Fear and Loathing...and Delirium.

Here's the scene. I finally sat down to watch Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, a movie I had seen bits and pieces of, but never the full thing. I had food and drink, and I was ready to give the movie my full attention.

I got through a good chunk of the movie before my exhaustion began to catch up with me. I had been running on two-and-a-half hours of sleep, not the good kind, and my body was ready to call it quits. Sometime around the scene where Raoul and Dr. Gonzo hit ether and stumble into the casino, I started to experience my own type of trip. The most natural, and most likely the first kind, of trip mankind had ever encountered: Sleep deprivation.

Maybe the first caveman to experience this had a tough few days of hunting woolly mammoth, and finally gave out. Who knows what myths and legends were born of this process of the brain; stringing together random facts and images into horrifying journeys. I'm sure there are a good number of people who will eventually read this that have never partaken in illicit substances, but I highly recommend at least one run of sleep deprivation tripping. It's free, it's legal, and all it costs you is a couple of sleepless nights. One of the only ways, I think, to understand the power of the human mind is to see the batshit-crazy things it does when it betrays your senses. 

So, while watching this movie where hallucinogenic drugs are key plot points, I began to lose my own sense of reality to my exhaustion. I remember popping in and out of recovery sleep, the kind of sleep where your body and mind basically force you unconscious. My mind began to use the movie to fill in holes. Between waking and sleep, I saw parts of the movie; a hotel room filled with water, Dr. Gonzo with a gun, the waitress, an increasingly-wrecked convertible, lizards in a club. I woke up, fully woke up, at the scene where Raoul is tearing through the Nevada desert, trying to get Gonzo to the airport in time. My brain saw panic, and gave me panic in return. I woke up not rested, partially because 30 minutes or so of sleep isn't very restful, but with adrenaline in me. I couldn't miss my plane.

Gradually, my mind started to separate fact from reality once again; movie from real life. By the time the end credits rolled, I seemed more worn out that when I first started. Sometimes, it's amazing how much control over your body your mind has. Perhaps I'll fall asleep better tonight, but not to Hunter S. Thompson.

Doctor What?

So in the course of the last month or so, I've continually plopped down in front of the TV to catch up on this "Doctor Who" thing people are raving about. I've read up on the subject, perused Wikipedia entries for hours, and put all other TV shows on the back burner.

Suffice to say, I'm on board.

Now, being a Doctor Who rookie, I had to start from a good jumping-on point. The beginning of the 2005 series is perfect for this. My first Doctor was Christopher Eccleston. While he was only there for one season, he did a great job of pulling me in and getting me attached to the character. He was strange and quirky, and absolutely believable when he threw down the gauntlet and pulled the bad-ass card. I had heard great things about David Tennant, but I wanted to reserve judgement until I saw him. After all, Eccleston was my Doctor! My doubts instantly faded as soon as Tennant's season started. He was a brilliant Doctor. One thing he did well was portray this great sadness behind most of his actions. There was a long history of tragedy in his eyes, and every time he had to make a hard decision, his pain was believable. I knew Tennant would end up leaving, but I put it out of my mind and enjoyed his time as The Doctor. So when Tennant regenerated into Matt Smith, I was legitimately bummed. Smith had a lot to live up to. Thankfully, he fit in well and ended up being a great Doctor in his own right.

The series has a great crew of writers, and I've found plenty of favorite moments across all of the new seasons. Some may criticize the show for its use of techno-babble and deus ex machina, but in the setting of Doctor Who, it feels fine to me. The series is so fantastical, I don't waste time commenting on how "that could never happen," or "that made no sense." It just somehow works.

Another thing I love is the writer's attention to continuity. Things that are done and said matter for many episodes to come. I like it when a show makes you pay attention, because usually, the payoff for it is pretty ingenious.

I've just finished with Season 5, and I'm about to try and catch up with the current episodes. Overall, I love the show. It's entertaining, funny, and has some genuine heart. The characterization is far above most on television. It just makes me feel like a kid again, and that is never bad.

ABIDE

-Dru