Posts Tagged With: facebook

The Name of the Doctor

This turned up on my Facebook feed.



What’s my issue with this? Well –

1. It comes across as directly confrontational, which doesn’t help any sort of discussion, not that we need to have it (see below).

2. That Batman thing was only funny for five minutes – it’s been milked to saturation point and beyond, and in any case it doesn’t work here. (If you’re going to have Batman saying ‘Oh really?’ while slapping Robin he needs to be yelling it, otherwise the point is lost.)

I hadn’t even got round to posting this remark when the shouting started. “OK, PEEPS,” came the response from one young lady. “HE IS NOT CALLED DR WHO HE IS CALLED THE DOCTOR. TRUE WHOVIANS KNOW THIS. END OF.”

I’ve cleaned up the spelling and grammar and shortened it by about five hundred words. You get the idea, right?

“Please,” I said, “stop writing in capitals. It gives people headaches.”
“It’s called shouting. It’s bad nettiquette. Trust me.”
“Do you use tumblr?”
“No, I’m not fourteen.”
“That explains it. Whole other universe.”

Really, the point she was making was that it was unacceptable to call him ‘Dr. Who’, even if ‘Doctor Who’ was OK. I explained, as patiently as I could considering the extent to which my teeth were grinding, that ‘Doctor Who’ was in-universe, and ‘Dr. Who’ was frequently used elsewhere, and that it wasn’t a big deal. It’s not worth making a ridiculous meme over, it’s not worth getting angry about in any capacity, and it’s certainly not worth the raised blood pressure.

Meanwhile, someone else –


“Lesson one,” I said when she objected. “Never argue with professional pedants.”
“It’s still not OK to call him Dr. Who. That was my argument.”
“You don’t have an argument.”

Anyway. You know those knowledge / wisdom things all over the internet? Like this.


I don’t want to step all over the legacy of the wonderful Miles Kington, but you probably can stick tomatoes in a fruit salad if you’re able to offset their natural tangy flavour with something appropriately bland, like tinned peaches or something.

Here’s another example:


“I saw that for the first time recently,” says Gareth, “and thought it a bit naff, because it was clearly someone trying to be deep and clever, like someone trying too hard to impress their GCSE English Literature teacher.  It read like we were supposed to go ‘Oooooh’, like the green aliens in Toy Story.”

He’s right, but I did my own.


I don’t know. Maybe you could pass that on.

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For every reaction, there’s an equal and opposite inaction

I mean, I looked at the new Facebook reactions. But there’s no button for ‘Meh’, and that’s the one I was really hoping for.

Well, along with these.


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This is Bill

I’ll just leave this here.


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Look to your right


Folks! New thing.

If you’re a regular at Brian of Morbius, you can’t have failed to notice a shiny new widget on the sidebar (and, if you’re particularly eagle-eyed, on the menu at the top). For some time now I’ve been keeping a Facebook page designed to promote my YouTube stuff (and, I rather hoped, encourage submitted content from others). It has been a dismal failure. I think it’s largely because the videos usually go on my own timeline as well, and get shared in groups etc. in much the same way. Self-promotion was never my great love (there’s nothing that irritates me more than reading an article and finding the first comment is “Great piece! Check out my own semi-related thoughts below”) and when it comes to actually doing it, partly out of the necessity to network, I’m simply not very good at it.

It occurred to me yesterday that perhaps the best way to consolidate web traffic to and from Facebook was to have one page that does for everything: Metro / Kasterborous articles, videos and blog entries, as well as random other things that come along. Thus, The Smallerpictures of Reverend Brian of Morbius was born. (As a title it’s not strictly accurate. It implies a certain eponymity, and as I point out on the About Page, my name is neither Brian, nor Morbius. But some people seem to think that anyway, and it works rather well, and it was suggested by a friend of mine, and she does have a tendency to be right about these things.)

So I’m asking a favour. If you read this blog on a regular or semi-regular basis – or even if you’re just popping in and like what you see – and could find it in your heart of two hearts to like the page, it would be a fantastic way for a struggling freelancer to slowly and painfully increase what little publicity he manages to claw from a blog that hardly anyone reads and YouTube videos that tend to flounder like minnows in the three hundred hours of footage uploaded to the site every minute (and yes, I had to look that up). It may seem like a pointless thing to do, if you already get email notifications, but it would mean a lot to me personally, and I would be very grateful. I thank you in advance.

Of course, doing this does mean I’ll know your real name, but I won’t necessarily match that with your WordPress ID – and even if I do, we’ll keep that between us, eh?


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The Frenemy of my Frenemy is my Frenemy

Not to put too fine a point on it, but the Doctor’s Facebook dinner party was basically a train wreck.

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Go, Fourth, and Multiply

Here’s this week’s collection of random images from yours truly, all Tom Baker related.

I am making my first foray into the world of peripatetic music tuition, and teaching the piano to the boy round the corner. And, you know, one thing sort of led to another…


Teaching the piano is a welcome distraction from Facebook, because my news feed has been full of those irritating ‘bets’. You know. The one where you post a pregnancy test result and if anyone falls for it they then have to change their profile picture to a sloth. Or the breast cancer ones aimed at gender solidification, where you post ‘secret’ answers to questions that only women know about.


I should mention at this point that my sister-in-law gave birth to a healthy baby boy yesterday. They have called him Noah. In honour of the event I suggested that we all dress up in green bubble wrap and lurch around Southmead Hospital. This was vetoed. Some people just don’t understand culture.

Question: how far do you go to get a pun? Particularly when the target audience is someone who knows their Doctor Who and Metal Gear Solid into the bargain?

This far.

An hour of sourcing and chopping and filtering. Totally worth it.

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Can we fix it? No, it’s the chameleon circuit

When I’m doing freelance stuff, I have to immerse myself in the press to find out what everyone else is reading – what’s trending, what’s popular and what people are going to want to see. It means I have read rather more than I’d have liked about the iPhone6, the Ebola virus and the ISIS thing – all important issues (well, except for the first one, unless you happen to be Steven Fry) but media saturation about how crap the world is can get you down.

Metro – for whom I write regularly – have a spider fixation. Stories about the autumnal arachnid invasion are all over the newspapers at this time of year, but 2014 coverage seems more extensive than ever, presumably because some of the spiders appear to have evolved or at least been immersed in the sort of growth formula that mutated the Ninja Turtles. If you read my ‘Kill The Moon’ review, you will recall the particular hangup I have about certain eight-legged creatures of the hairy kind, and we will not dwell on that, except to say that I have still not quite forgiven Chris Woodson (not his real name) for repeatedly shoving page eight of the biology textbook in front of my face during those GCSE science lessons. Emily calls me a wuss, and she is right.

However, I did this. Obviously.


Meanwhile, Bob the Builder is in trouble, having been given a trendy new image in the wake of a new series, causing the sort of outcry on social media that makes headlines, at least when bored journalists have nothing else to write about (if we cared as much about terrorism as we seem to about TV remakes or The Great British Bake Off, there would be no wars). Facebook and Twitter ‘exploded’ with criticism, with various social media users saying that the BBC had ‘ruined their childhood’, which depresses me partly because it makes me feel very old, but mostly because it has nothing to do with the BBC at all. This is usually established outright in any news report or Wikipedia article, but it goes in one ear and out the other. It’s not really a big deal, I suppose, but it’s typical of the sort of casual misunderstanding that plagues the British public, who are, I’ve decided, largely quite stupid, or at least more stupid than I am, and that’s saying something.

If this is a little harsh, consider the Peppa Pig story that broke a few weeks ago when an obviously satirical video generated headlines, memes and general outrage, including extensive coverage in several national newspapers who frankly ought to have known better. (That’s non-negotiable. Either they fell for it, or they knew it was a spoof and played off the fears of the British public; either way it’s irresponsible journalism.) This sort of thing doesn’t stop people spreading images round the internet even after all the fuss has died down, because they’re incapable of reading or researching. Most of these folks – some of whom I would tentatively call friends – aren’t stupid, or even nasty. They’re just lazy, and they’ll hear what they expect and want to hear. You know the sort of person I mean; the sort that doesn’t realise that The X-Factor is rigged from day one, who finds it hard to distinguish between a soap opera villain and the actress who plays them, and who actually thinks that there has never been a better Doctor than David Tennant. I’m being harsh again, but I get tired of having to explain this shit over and over simply because social media is only good at spreading the wrong sort of news. I am a naturally forgiving person – perhaps too much so – but people who propagate rubbishlike this should have to shampoo my crotch.

And you’re probably going to see this sort of thing on a far-right Facebook page at some point:


Anyway. We were discussing the character’s new look yesterday, and one of us – I think it might have been Thomas – pointed out that it was a bit like regeneration. And, you know, one thing sort of led to another.

It’s the end, but the moment has been prepared for.

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She literally exploded

In my house, Facebook links to stories like this get ignored. I always consider them the equivalent of those emailed jokes you used to get that made you scroll down for ages, promising you that the punch line was worth it (of course, it never was). But I thought it might be fun to create one.



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The Doctor’s Facebook Film

Doctor Who turns fifty, Facebook turns ten. I feel old.

The Doctor probably doesn’t have a Facebook film. I don’t think he even has an account. But if he did, it might look a little bit like this.

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The Doctor changed his profile picture


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