“Like any town you’ve ever seen. And unlike any place you’ve ever been”
Hey guise. We just thought of a thing. LET’S ALL DO A THING.
All week we’ve been highlighting dozens of brand new videos being shared for Doctor Who Week. But this doesn’t acknowledge the thousands of fan videos that Whovians have made since the beginning of time (and YouTube).
Go to YouTube. Search ‘Doctor Who’ or ‘Doctor Who Week’ and spread a TON of love to your fellow Whovians. We all know Doctor Who fans are the friendliest people in the world, but let’s be extra friendly and loving today.
Also, if you find a video that you think needs a little extra love, post it to your Tumblr with the tag “doctor who fanvids are the best”.
And here’s the trick. Don’t let anyone know why you’re doing this. When you’re commenting, don’t say that we sent you.
YOU’RE DOING SO GOOD AT THE THING:
Here are some of the comments you left on It’s Aimee’s video:
Let’s keep going! Find more Doctor Who videos on YouTube to like and comment on.
And remember…don’t say we sent you. Let’s just keep spreading the Whovian love.
The walking man in Blois is the worst. Odense’s is inspired, but If you make this kind of thing and you leave out the former-GDR’s Ampelmännchen, you’re doing it wrong.
(I’m reading “Traffic” by Tom Vanderbilt right now. It’s pretty cool.)
Nice to see some walking ladies in there too.
1910’s-era movie theater etiquette Public Service Announcements
Most early movie theaters had only one projector so “etiquette slides” were used to divert the audience while reels were being changed. These glass slides often featured lighthearted instructions for proper behavior while viewing a film.
A gallery of ceramic sculpture. It’s rare to feel as if an animal can possess you — inhabit your body, mind and spirit as if it were a new lover exploring all your real and artificial selves. Dress your dogs and cats with as many sweater vests, booties and hats as you want; they’ll never come close to the hybrid human qualities that seductively inhabit the work of Beth Cavener Stichter. This might be, in part, because she views her stone sculptures as portraits — of people she has met briefly in passing or good friends or family. She doubles the uncanny moment by acknowledging that these creatures are self-portraits as well, since the very act of interpreting another’s actions, facial expressions, and intentions says — and betrays — much more about our own fears and desires than the other person. We rarely acknowledge or intellectually wrestle with this flash-fiction judgment that we impose onto friends and strangers alike.