An essay written by my wonderful friend Matt.

If you are a fan of Game of Thrones or character analysis, you should check it out.

I am probably going to get some hate for this, but I can’t be bovvered.

I didn’t start watching Doctor Who until right before the series 4 premiere.

So I blew through the first three seasons pretty quickly and then started checking out the fandom.

I was a little dismayed to find that people full-on despised Martha. Personally, I liked Martha as a character more than I liked Rose, which isn’t to say that I hate Rose (she’s definitely not my favorite, but I don’t hate her). I mean, I get that Rose was there first, and some people like her more because she’d been there, but the arguments against Martha just didn’t make a lot of sense to me.

I never got the feeling that she was trying to replace Rose.

I never thought that she was useless. She did what she could in generally unfamiliar circumstances.

I never thought that she reacted particularly unreasonably in any situation. If I were stuck in a small escape pod that was hurtling towards a sun, I would probably call my mum and cry.

The only reason that I ever disliked Martha Jones was that she was head-over-heels in love with The Doctor. I don’t mean that like, “OMG DOCTOR AND ROSE. OTP. DIAF, MARTHA.” That’s not what I’m saying at all. And I’m certainly not going to blame her for falling in love with The Doctor because, really, who wouldn’t fall in love with The Doctor?

What I am saying is that Martha fell for The Doctor. She fell hard, and she wore her emotions on her sleeve. She was visibly jealous of the constant mentions of Rose. She got upset when she found him kissing Nurse Redfern. She exchanged subtle glances with Chantho, who understood what it was like to love someone who hasn’t got a single clue.

And I didn’t like watching that because it reminded me of myself. Martha is the girl who loved with everything she had, only to find that the object of her affection didn’t reciprocate. I’ve been there, and I’m sure that plenty of people have been there. It made me uncomfortable to see Martha pining for The Doctor because it reminded me of my own awkwardness. For want of a pop-culture parallel, Martha is the Britta Perry of Doctor Who. I think that people hate on Martha because her characterization is so honest and real.

I’ve only seen the first two seasons, and I really love the show. I really, really do.

But I do have some problems with it.

I could write on about these things that bother me about the show, but for the most part that would be whiny and poorly constructed, and in all honesty Jason Mittell does a better job of examining the show’s flaws than I could ever hope to do because 1.) he’s articulate, whereas when I talk about television shows, I tend to descend into fits of, “ASKJGLKDASDKJDFKJLHKLSJDFFGSFDS” and 2.) as I previously stated, I actually enjoy the show, and I disagree with Mittell on several points in his critique, “On Disliking Mad Men.” But he makes a valid argument, and if you haven’t read the article and have opinions about Mad Men, it is well worth a read.

All of that being said, I have a huge problem with Don Draper.

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1.) Because I am aware of my surroundings and my own weaknesses. I fit the “comic relief” and “token minority” roles, but I know this and can use it to my advantage. The comic relief is never the first death, so I just have to be aware of the people around me. If the group’s skank goes missing, you best believe I am getting the hell out of where ever I am/barricading myself with food, water, and a loaded shot-gun/salt/whatever exorcism I might need. I know that I can survive if I avoid survivors/descendants of people who have survived massacres and surround myself with people that are dumber/more morally corrupt than me.

2.) Because I am a horrible, horrible person. This can work against me because for some reason the killer always goes for the horrible person (maybe it’s karma, or some weird fourth-wall-breaching sense of katharsis?), but if you are a certain kind of terrible, you can totally make it out okay.

Don’t: Trip someone else in your group as you’re making a run for it.

Do: Destroy any creepy children/possessed dolls/sweet-looking old lady that come within striking range.

3.) Because I make a point to avoid abandoned camp grounds, homes built on Indian burial grounds, places adjacent to cemeteries, remote cabins surrounded by wilderness, streets named “Elm,” towns where large massacres have occurred in the past, towns that appear to have been hastily abandoned, places near research facilities that specialize in foreign viruses that may cause zombie-like behavior or genetic experiments, and ridiculously large shopping malls.

4.) Because I know better than to trifle with potentially demonic forces. Cast a spell to open the Ninth Gate so that I can make myself rich? I think not. Bring someone back from the dead? No, thanks. Also, if someone in the group is being possessed, I will not hesitate to neutralize them. That goes double for anyone who is possessed but then acts all normal again. You don’t fool me, trifle friend. And if you actually are normal again, I apologize, but I cannot jeopardize the safety of the entire group (and more importantly myself) by allowing you to live. It’s not personal.

5.) Because if I hear a noise, I am NOT going to go investigate it. Nor will I ever say anything like, “I’ll be right back!” or “Did you guys hear something?” or “Let’s split up!” Most of all, I will never ask, “Who’s there?” I know who’s there. It’s the killer, and I don’t need to talk to him.

6.) Because I am kind of a prude. I am holding onto my v-card for forever, and while that no longer guarantees survival, it never hurts.

7.) Because I know my lore. If anything wants to try and kill me, it’s welcome to try. Seriously. Freddie Krueger? I’ve seen Inception. COME AT ME, BRO. Some kind of demon? GET THE SALT. Michael Myers? HE IS NO MAN. But I will still stop him because I listen to Donald Pleasence. I don’t really have a game plan for Jason Voorhees, but I’ve never done him wrong, and I’m not overtly immoral, and that will buy me enough time to get away, I think.

8.) Because I am careful with my car. I am not gonna be one of those dumb bitches that gets killed because I didn’t have a gas or a good battery or a spare tire. Also, if the windows are fogged up, I am NOT going near the car. Period.

9.) Because I know better than to piss off a gypsy or shy, nerdy kid or town outcast. I am also smart enough to heed any advice from these types of people, and I know that animals always know when something is up. If the animals are fleeing, so am I.

10.) Because I know that “out the door” is a better escape route than “up the stairs.”

OR How I learned to stop worrying and trust in The Winger Guarantee

Community pretty much had me from the jump because I’m shallow, and Joel McHale is wildly attractive. I actually didn’t watch the show at first because of a scheduling conflict (Late night Bio labs. What can you do?), but I got my hands on the first season and plowed through it in, seriously, a day.

And I loved it. Not just because of Joel McHale, and not just because it’s full-on hilarious.

I love it because it caught me off guard and made me actually care.

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OR

How the Supernatural finale motivated me to write more than any assignment I’ve had for school.

OR

I don’t know what I was expecting, but my feelings got bent over the table by that finale.

So, basically, this finale bitchslapped me right in the frontal lobe.

There were a lot of things that I loved about it, and there were quite a few things that I found most displeasing.

I just have a lot of feelings. Let’s dive in, shall we? [SPOILERS. Just saying.]

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An essay I wrote for my World Cinema class.

In a male-dominant society, it is no surprise that most popular culture presents itself from a male point of view. From books to television shows to movies, people constantly absorb storylines from a man’s perspective. Though some instances of the male gaze are more obvious, like the numerous female companions in the James Bond franchise, some films manage to sneak the perspective in amongst relatively innocuous content.

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OR

How I learned to stop worrying and love Team Leather.

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