Ms. Kizlet is using the wi-fi signal to control people in the coffee 
shop.
 “I do love showing off,” she says through a waitress she has made
 her puppet.  “Just let me show you what control of the wi-fi can do for 
you,” she adds through  the mouth of a young girl.
It’s a tech demo. 
Here’s what this latest version of the operating system can  do. Upgrade
 now. The iconography is all ruthlessly current. Particularly  fitting: 
Kizlet and her crew are playing around on iPads as they do their little 
 Steve Jobs routine. You almost expect her to reveal that they’ve 
captured Clara  with an “oh, and one more thing.”
Kizlet explains that 
they’ve “released thousands” of base stations into the  world, 
blanketing the whole of humanity in their Worldwide Web of Fear.
Meanwhile, Clara’s on her laptop. She recognizes the vulnerability 
in every  grand system: people. With just a bit of clicking around she’s
 figured out where  Kizlet is transmitting from. The most obvious spot 
in London, really. Kizlet's client  loves using grand projects for his own 
purposes. It’s what he did in the  Underground, and it’s what he’s doing
 now. But it’s 2013 now, and London’s grand  projects aren’t for the 
little people anymore. Now they’re for the elite.
So it's the perfect 
place for Kizlet’s operation. The prestigious tallest  building in 
London, to be filled with high-paying businesses. The metaphor is  
straightforward: the grand prestige project, like the Olympics and the 
Jubilee  from the same year, is literally eating people alive. 
Construction is  consumption. It even consumes and annexes the protests 
against it. Its name  comes from the complaints about its design - the 
fear that it would be “a shard  of glass through the heart of historic 
London.” Of course, the objection, like  the vision itself, is concerned
 with the abstract form of London, as opposed to  with the lives of 
those within it. Heritage London or the modern corporate  state. It’s 
all the same: an aesthetic to show off. A system for control.
And yet, 
architecturally, the building is designed to be invisible - to blend  
into the clouds around it. Control is always supposed to be invisible, 
after  all. Just something in the air, like the wi-fi signal itself. The
 spectacle is  always showing off and remaining invisible at the same 
time. As with any demo,  it’s not just technology being shown off. It’s 
ideology. Dressed up, inevitably,  in the rhetoric of upper middle class
 consumption. The Great Intelligence wants  “healthy, free-range, human 
minds.”
 “The farmer tends his flock like a loving parent,” Kizlet 
says.
“The abbatoir is not a contradiction,” she insists.
“No one 
loves cattle more than Burger King.”
So the Doctor smashes into the 
side of the building and tears it all down.
 
 
 
I think this one's particularly well-written. My favorite so far. :)
ReplyDeletehmmm something not quite right here
ReplyDeleteJack Graham at the top of stairs, his head slowly turns an unnatural 180 degrees to reveal....
No but seriously very good
This episode compared to most Moffat episodes was basically glossy and harmless. It might've have helped if Kizlet worked for a real business, a company. Whereas she just seemed to run some kind of shadowy operation with lots of computers like in a thousand other cult programmes. At least she had a clear motive unlike that Madame eye-patch nonsense in 2011.
The stuff with the Doctor putting Clara to bed with some biscuits was...problematic, Despite the music telling me how sweet this was
The worst part for me though was the smug cynical throwaway "gag" that the London riots were caused by the aliens. And that is probably the most Moffat has directly engaged with contemporary Britain since he became show-runner. Summed up his point of view for me
Yes, I hated the riots gag. And the woman gag earlier in the episode.
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