Obviously, I started this blog to get attention. I thought pairing Doctor Who with Futurama quotes would be hilarious, and the more people I could reach with that idea the better. I’m the kind of egomaniac who loves keeping an eye on how many notes individual posts get, and then basing my entire self-worth on that fickle number. It’s how I roll.
But. There is no way in earth, in THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE, I could have predicted how many notes a Kamelion shitpost would get. A friend I was sharing the cake with was like, “yeah, it’s kind of aesthetic, I can see that side of tumblr latching on to it” and I was like “hwaah?” because when making the post all I saw was the shittiest, least loved, most obscure televised Doctor Who companion ever making dumb robot jokes in Bender’s voice. I laughed for a while, posted it, it got a pleasant number of notes, and after a few months it died. End of story. And then, AN ENTIRE YEAR after originally posted, it picked up again. Out of nowhere. Out of the (TARDIS) blue. And then it picked up a lot.
I really don’t deserve this. Like. At all.I can’t stress how much none of this was under any of my control, and yet I’m the one buying a tumblr post anniversary cake like it’s my fucking birthday. This blog is for my small tumblr fandom, because Classic Who is where I’ve found my friends and family, its where I feel most accepted. I’m so glad two (TWO!) tumblr celebrities deemed it worthy of a reblog, skyrocketing the notes up by 20k overnight multiple times. I’m so glad more people got to see it, that in the future what might identify Classic Who as Classic Who, what might become a signature mascot, is this prop robot that doesn’t fuckingwork and in my very educated opinion is legitimately cursed. I’m so glad this post did so well, partially because of my egomania and partially because I’m glad I inadvertently made something that so many people have enjoyed, even for half a second.
But what’s super important, and what I’m most glad about, is that Doctor Who fans (seemingly) enjoy the blog, and continue to follow the blog, even though I update once every millennia. Thank you. Thank you so much. This cake is, symbolically, for all of you.
But, not symbolically, it’s all mine, and it’s really freakin’ delicious.
Ralph Richardson and Gerald Flood in “Early Days” at the National Theatre. David Storey wrote the play especially for Ralph, and he had considerable trouble learning the dialogue. One notable moment of forgetfulness happened in a sequence with actress Rosemary Martin, playing his daughter, when the script has him refer to Gerald Flood, who plays his promiscuous son-in-law, as a “fetish.” David Storey stood in the wings and watched Ralph trying to remember the line:
“And he began quivering, I thought he was going to have a heart attack, his neck got redder and redder, with his whole shoulder blade shaking, and he was towering above her as he struggled … ‘THE MAN IS LIKE A CROISSANT!’ And she had to repeat the line. I went down afterwards and said, ‘That was a wonderful invention there, Ralph, fetish becoming a croissant.’ ‘Well, I think Gerald Flood’s face does look like a croissant. I’ve always thought so.’” (From John Miller’s bio of RR)