On Torchwood and Other Deep Thoughts
A good friend recommended the BBC Dr. Who spin-off series "Torchwood" to me a few days ago, and I've been enjoying it whilst in the midst of my fever-induced stupor.
It's hard to say exactly what I like about Torchwood, but suffice to say that it's a pretty unique sci-fi television show revolving around a covert-ops team and their latest run-in with aliens. The acting, while nothing spectacular, is pretty solid all around, and the storylines, while again nothing spectacular, are really very interesting. I'm surprised at how Torchwood manages to put together such an interesting episode without all the Hollywood sparkle, actually, and it's definitely been my high point these past few days.
Today's episode happened to be "Out of Time", wherein the Torchwood team intercepts a trio of humans from the 1950s. It was a pretty mediocre episode all around, but there were flashes of genius interspersed with the ultimate cliche of time travel episodes. A scene in particular stood out to me: One of the time travelers was confronted with his son who was now senile and much older than he, and was saddened to discover that he had no more existing family. His son had failed to produce heirs, and as such was wasting away old and alone in an old folk's home because he had had no children to take care of him.
Ironically, this made me think about human mortality and our responsibility to propagate our race. If the only point to marriage, coupledom, partnership (or whatever else they're calling it nowadays), is to have children who will take care of us when we're old, then the person we're in the relationship with is fairly irrelevant, isn't it?
All things considered, it's hard enough to find someone that you can stand for long periods of time, (not to mention someone who can likewise stand /you/), but now we have to figure out how best to keep our asses out of the old folk's home?
I haven't given much thought about what to do with my own parents in their old age (considering the fact that they're still strong and are bigger workaholics than both my brother and myself), but hopefully the solution will present itself when the time comes. After all, they'd put in the requisite years together, and the labor of spawning not one, but two annoying little bastards-- the least I can do is make sure they don't end up in some sad little retirement home.
Now I just have to figure out how to make a few hundred mill so I can buy them their own retirement country. ;)
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