I saw Deep Breath on Saturday night, and I thought that it was good. I saw it again tonight, and I liked it even better. I got a better feel for why Clara acted as she did (and the true and quite logical reason was right in front of me, and had nothing to do with her being young and shallow) and I saw once again that Moffat has tweaked us yet again: this Doctor is as tuned in to humans and as tied to them as ever his younger selves were. Silly of me to have thought that would be different and glad I am that I was mistaken.
This is a very good Doctor.
I don't, however, have any more brain to talk about it. I got up early and traveled 45 miles each way to an absolutely wonderful wedding at the Bristol Renaissance Faire, wandered around in the heat after the wedding, drove back, then cleaned up and set up an evening of light munchies for the folks who came to watch Deep Breath with us, and I have to get up early tomorrow to give testimony to an attorney, and it's deadline day, and I'm covered in dried sweat and ... well, I'm not at my best right now.
Oh, and ...
Totally the Master, amirite?
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