This is a guest post by author Zak MT Standridge
|Zak MT Standridge is the Author of 'Spiker's Spiral', 'Rigorous Mort', and 'Smuggle Barista'. His time travel works include the 'Tales of the Chron-Arch' Series (Traveller Chronicles, Traveller: Mr. Blue, Traveller: the man in red).|
When I was 5, I didn’t like television. Not much different than today, actually. Everything seemed peculiarly boring. And except for the cartoons of the time (he-man, she-rah, thundercats, voltron), I couldn’t care less.
However on Sunday mornings (one in particular strikes my memory), I saw this bizarre BBC program with a camera style completely different than anything I’d ever seen. The star of this show was an alien, but not the alien you might think. He was 8 feet tall (remember I was 5) with a huge mop of curly hair, crazy teeth (I’d never seen an alien that smiled so much) a scarf that was 20 feet long (that part is accurate), and he gave out candy. To everyone.
This crazy alien that felt oddly like the uncle that would let you get away with anything possessed a box. Bigger on the inside.
Here’s the thing about the box: for me it represents imagination. Dreams. Why? BECAUSE it’s bigger on the inside. Isn’t it obvious? No?
Allow me to elaborate: I’m fascinated by the human psyche. Particularly the dream state as it’s been irrevocable proven elusive to understand. Our heads are pretty small. But our dreams…our dreams are huge. Dynamic. (At least mine are…)
Imagination, something so very enormous, the very thing that has driven our evolution forward: harnessing electricity, creating locomotion and the automobile, flight, communications and entertainment, the advancement of medical science (it’s true)…
ALL because of IMAGINATION.
Things so vast as to be overwhelming…all of it has fit into something so small. Our tiny little head. Our tiny little brains.
WE are bigger on the inside.
Cut to later in the show, guess what? The awesome alien is called the Doctor and he’s here to help. Oh no! A NEMESIS! An exact opposite to the Doctor!
A Moriarty for my Holmes and oh, the battles they fight! The Doctor, so very much like me, such a little kid yet at the drop of a hat he’s figured out alien technology and is barking orders at an army to stop an invasion!
Alas, atop a gigantic communication satellite, The Doctor and the Master lock in a life and death struggle. The Doctor loses. Badly.
Oh, God, No! Not my alien uncle buddy with the candy! And the smiles.
I watched my hero fall hundreds of stories to the cold ground below…and my heart was CRUSHED…
…then, then something strange happened. Wiping away small tears I began to see his body glowing as his friends surrounded him. I witnessed a magnificent and beautiful and strange alien metamorphosis occur.
My Doctor sat up, a young, vibrant, handsome action hero type. He looked around. Smiled.
And I smiled too…when it comes to the Doctor, I have never stopped.
My hero DOES NOT DIE.
My hero is simply REBORN.
He lives on in an infinity kept in a tiny box.
The Doctor stands by the hero that I created, Traveller, in his honor and they both occupy a space much, much more magnificently bigger on the inside…