Duckie, Hillary, Kenny, and I finally saw The Prestige the other night. If you haven't seen this movie, stop reading right now. You're not going to understand any of this, you're going to get upset with me for spoiling things, and you're going to have an even harder time following the discussion than those of us who actually have seen it. So do yourself a favour, see the movie, and then come back and join us for a discussion of one of the many ponderable aspects of the film.
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Now that absolutely everyone is gone, it's time to get down to the tangled ball of confusion and cleverness that was The Prestige. I've only seen it once, and there are many, many highly complex things that deserve to be discussed, but I have a DMC review to work on and a book to finish for class, so we're just going to deal with one question:
Was the Angier that Sarah-loving Borden shot at the end the first copy or the hundred-and-first?
The key to this rather complicated question that, when given due thought, will pretty much flip your brain inside out before whipping it into a fine chiffon lies in a simpler question left unanswered by the movie (I think... it's possible that I just missed it):
Did Tesla's machine teleport the original object, or the copy it created?
Regardless of the answer to this question, it's not possible that the Angier at the end was the original. The first Angier to die was the one that appeared outside the machine, while the subsequent dead Angiers were the ones who were in the machine after the teleportation/duplication process.
Oh, I suppose it _could_ have been the original, if for some reason the copy teleported the first time but the original did the next hundred, or if, as Duckie suggests, he made another copy between the first time he used it and the first time he used it on stage, the first copy was shot, the second through 101st were drowned, the 102nd (who was created in the last performance and got away, and the original came out of hiding having never performed the trick on stage. Presumably, this would leave a spare Angier roaming around, which I suppose would leave the movie open for a really bad sequel. But I don't buy into this theory for two reasons: 1) it's very convoluted and hard to explain, and 2) Angier couldn't bear to not be The Prestige, and I highly doubt that he would be able to bear not being on stage at all.
So that brings us back to the original question:
Was the Angier that Sarah-loving Borden shot at the end the first copy or the hundred-and-first?
Let's say, as Hillary and Kenny did, that the man who walks into the machine is the same man who is standing in the machine after the process is completed. The support for this argument is that the Angier in the machine knew where the gun was the first time, so that must have been the original. Thus, the first copy was shot by the original, the hundred-and-first copy was shot by Sarah-loving Borden, and all the others were drowned.
But that would mean that the original Angier stepped into the machine knowing full well that he would not only not be the Prestige, but he would in fact drown. So here's what I think
Tesla's purpose was to build a teleportation machine, and the clones were merely a side-effect. It seems to me, then, that the original would be transported while the copy would appear in the machine. As the copies are exact and have all of the original's knowledge, abilities, and memories, the first copy knew where the gun was. The original was killed, and the first copy went on to live his life, be teleported during 100 performances, drown all of the extra copies, frame Olivia-loving Borden, and eventually be shot by Sarah-loving Borden.
Of course, being that they're all exactly the same in every way, it really doesn't matter in the slightest when the original died because they're all the original. Sort of. In a way.
Or something.
My goodness, that was a good movie.
I wrote the original draft of this pondering way back in February and intended to post it for Towel Day. That passed me by, but it was okay because there are actually three different days that different factions of HHG fans consider Towel Day – Feb 11 (the 42nd day of the year), March 11 (DNA's birthday), and May 11 (the anniversary of his death) – so I would just post it then. Unfortunately, this year has turned out to be very much not to my liking and absolutely nothing has gone right, and I just kept forgetting until I decided to post the bloody thing on the first 11th that I remembered to do it. So here we are, July 11th, and here is the pondering.
The fact that this pondering about British aliens comes so soon after American Independence Day is an ironic little accident.
While Americans seem to have a very negative view of extraterrestrials - abductions, cattle mutilations, vast government conspiracies - there appears to be a British tradition (and by "British tradition," I mean a handful of instances in two popular British science fiction sagas) of aliens very politely inviting humans along for a ride and then protecting them...to varying degrees. This is the topic of this month's pondering:
Would I go?
The answer to this one depends on which alien is doing the asking:
There is nothing on earth or otherwise that would get me to go with Zaphod Beeblebrox. I love the guy, I do, but cheesy pickup lines and stolen spaceships are not my thing. I like stability, I like feeling safe, I do NOT like alcohol or narcissism. If it comes down to Zaphod or the Vogons (not that it ever would, because Zaph wouldn't be anywhere near a planet that was about to explode), I'm going with my gut and the intense, seething IBS, and I'm staying here where I'm assured a quick - if messy - death. So, No. No Heart of Gold for me.
Ford Prefect is a somewhat different story. I would definitely have to think about it before I hitchhiked across the galaxy with him, but he'd have a much higher chance of success than his cousin. He's still a bit more...spontaneous than I would like, and I would really prefer seeing the cultures of the galaxy rather than just the pubs and expensive restaurants, but Ford reminds me more of one of my best friends than some sleezeball at the kind of party I do NOT go to. I guess I really am Arthur - I'd probably go, but I'd complain the whole way and find a nice, quiet planet to eventually settle down on. So, definitely Maybe on Ford.
And then there's The Doctor. I'm the kind of underprivileged loser who grew up in America in the nineties, so despite continued efforts to the contrary, my entire perception of The Doctor has been shaped by Christopher Eccleston, David Tennant, William Hartnell, and, to a lesser extent, Paul McGann. I've been very slowly working my way through the original series (I'm currently stuck in the midst of the lost third season episodes - it's neat that they were able to reconstruct them, but they are rather difficult to watch...), so don't be too disappointed in me - I'm a victim of circumstance ("...as are we all"...apologies to Kurt Vonnegut mayherestinpeace)
The First Doctor didn't really ask anyone to join him; they were all either kidnapped, rescued, or they stowed away. And I somehow suspect that he would have had a hard time convincing anyone to tag along. It's not that he's not a nice guy, and it's not that he's not loveable, in a crazy grandpa sort of way, it's just that he's a bit off-putting at first. His first impressions leave a bit to be desired, I guess is what I'm saying. Assuming I had no prior knowledge of The Doctor, I seriously doubt I would go with One. Although, he does kind of remind me of my grandfather... I suppose if I were able to share an adventure with him _before_ being asked, I would possibly go. Of course, his companions - with two exceptions that I know of - never got to return to their planet/time of origin, and that's an option I _definitely_ want, assuming the Earth is still here. One gets a slightly less enthusiastic Maybe.
I have not read any of the books or heard any of the radio adventures, so I only know The Eighth Doctor from The Enemy Within...which is a shame, because he spends the entire first half trying to figure out who he is, and then spends the second half with Dr. wassername, who annoys me to no end. So I don't really know Eight. But I'm gonna try this anyhow. The fact that he is a bit flighty and amnesic (um...is there a real adjective form for that word? Because I'm pretty sure that's not it) doesn't give me a lot of confidence in him. That having been said, he is still very capable and has just the right combination of sobriety and random joviality for me to come to the conclusion that we would get along well right from the start. I probably wouldn't blindly follow him into the TARDIS, but a nice chat over tea would probably convince me to go. Eight gets a Probably.
The Ninth Doctor is amazing and I love him absolutely to death, but I doubt I would have gone with him by the end of "Rose." If I'd have gotten to know him better first, sure; he's the older brother I never had. But the problem is that he's just a little too...he comes across initially as being kind of scary. Not in an "I'm going to eat your FACE!" sort of way, just...he's too much. He's too intense, too adventurous. He's very forward oriented (well, as forward oriented as you can be when you're traveling freely through four dimensions), and I couldn't keep up with him. Would I want to be friends with him after only one meeting? Definitely. Would I trust him implicitly with my life after only spending a few hours with him? Nah. So I suppose in this analogy, I'm Mickey. Nine is a Probably Not.
And like Mickey, I'd have far fewer trepidations about going with the Tenth Doctor...though in my case it wouldn't be because I had gotten to know him better. Given the fact that I do know him, if the TARDIS showed up and the Tenth Doctor stepped out, I wouldn't even go back for my bag...and I suspect that would still be the case even if I had never heard of him before. The Dead Ringers sketch, though not terribly complimentary to my current favourite Doctor, pegged it exactly - Nine was intense, too intense for me to trust him immediately. But Ten seems more...naïve. Maybe even more daft. We know he's not either of those things, but he IS trustworthy, and the fact that he seems daftly naïve helps that impression come across almost immediately. I am a highly suspicious person, but I don't think I would doubt his motives (and it seems as though the only people who have trouble trusting Ten initially are those who knew Nine). He is unpredictable, maybe a little unstable - he is The Doctor, after all - but there's something very...disarming about him. And as far as being able to keep up with him goes...it is true that Ten has just as much (and possibly more) energy as Nine, but he doesn't have as much forward momentum because he burns a lot of that energy on tangents. I'd have to be in slightly better shape than I am now to physically keep up with him every step of the way, but it would be far more manageable than with Nine. I'm just fed up enough with school to be willing to throw it all away, and with the Doctor's plan, you can visit home as often as you like (or rather, as often as he will let you). So, assuming I knew nothing at all about The Doctor, it would probably take a brief explanation of what he was offering and a quick reassurance that I could come home sometimes, and I would be off. Because, more than any of the others - though only the tinest bit more than Nine - I completely and utterly trust the Tenth Doctor, who can fix absolutely anything. Ten is an Almost Certainly.
I know the obvious trend has already been spotted by the more analytical of you - I'm giving more consideration to going with the more attractive aliens... It looks bad, it does. But I promise I'm not being shallow or anything - it just so happens that Ford, Eight, and Ten are the kind of people I am more likely to tag along with.
August, 2007
This seems to be the Year of The Doctor, as far as my obsessions go, and it should therefore come as no surprise that August's pondering also deals with Doctorly things. To be a bit more specific, I will be discussing one of the minor, not terribly spoilery aspects of Torchwood – one of Jack's more bizarre personal items (and that's really saying something). If you've seen the show you almost certainly know which one I'm talking about; if you haven't already discovered it's significance, you may not want to read this pondering. That having been said, it's not become a major plot point at this point in Torchwood (through the end of Series/Season 1) or at the point where all of us underprivileged American whovians/wholigans are in Doctor Who (just past "Evolution of the Daleks"*), so reading this probably won't really affect your viewing of the show except possibly to clue you in to an aspect of Jack's personality earlier than you might have otherwise seen it. Also, if you are a viewer of Doctor Who but have no interest in seeing Torchwood, you may want to read up on what Jack has been doing in his spare time.
* I hope you lucky Brits realize how difficult you've made it to look up ANYTHING Who-related without seeing spoilers... I guess you're just giving us a taste of our own medicine, which is well within your prerogative. Still, by the time I'm able to venture on to fan pages, you'll all be chattering about the Christmas special and then the new series of Torchwood and then new Who...
Standard Spoiler Space™:
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What the HECK is Jack doing with The Doctor's hand?!
I am apparently so slow that, even after the final scene of "End of Days," I still didn't catch on to whose hand was in the jar until it suddenly dawned on me while rewatching "Everything Changes" for the first time. Before my realization, I just thought of it as a somewhat eccentric collector's item, despite the fact that Jack was obviously far more attached to it than anything else at HQ. But the instant I identified it as The Doctor's third hand (the one he lost while dueling the Sycorax commander), I was extraordinarily creeped out. I mean, Jack has The Doctor's hand in a jar. Let me say that again, just in case there's anyone out there who doesn't see the creepiness yet.
Captain Jack Harkness (that's this guy: Okay. So, it's not hard to accept that Jack might do something weird or unsettling – he's Captain Jack, for goodness sake. BUT, how the heck did he find The Doctor's hand? It fell from a Sycorax ship hovering miles over the Earth. Was he just in the right place at the right time, or did he hunt it down? And how did he figure out it was The Doctor's? Who sees a random hand on the ground and thinks, "Oh, it's The Doctor's! I should put it in a jar and carry it around with me!" The only people who know that he lost a hand are Rose, Mickey, Harriet Jones, and a bunch of Sycorax who are dead now, anyway. Does Jack have some sort of litmus test that identifies Time Lord DNA? Is that why the hand started dancing? Because it was in some sort of solution that was dancing?
Hmm...
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) has The Doctor (this guy: 
)'s hand (
) in a jar (
).
