Two seasons of the new Doctor Who down. Both far better than I could have dreamed. Season two proved contentious in fan circles, but more acclaimed by the general public, it would seem — judging from improved ratings and audience appreciation figures.

In Britain. Yes, I’m well aware no one gives two hoots in Australia. That’s just the kind of genre-scorning boring people we are. Except for Lost of course. I still don’t get why that does so well.

Anyhow, I thought I’d share three of my favourite moments of the past season, and my three top hopes for season three. Actually, let’s say four. I’ve got too many. I’d be very interested to know other peoples’ opinions too. The best moments:

• The Doctor proves what an over-curious psychopath he really is when he lets himself drop into the darkness in The Satan Pit.
• The Doctor rides a horse through a magic window in The Girl in the Fireplace. This moment stands in representation of all the awesome moments of that story.
• Rose kills the Devil in The Satan Pit. Girls are so hot when they’re annihilating evil forces from before time began.
• Sarah and the Doctor say goodbye in School Reunion. For a sad fan like me this was fantastic.

Oh, there’s heaps more, but I should get onto hopes before this becomes too soppy.

• More of the Army of Ghosts manipulative, quiet Doctor, and less of the Idiot’s Lantern shouty, bombastic Doctor. I didn’t find the shouting as off-putting as some, but it must be said, I really don’t think the “Nothing in the World” moment worked in that story.
• A story set on Earth in a country that is not Great Britain, in a location that is not an underground bunker. We kind of had this in The Girl in the Fireplace but I want more.
• The relationship between the new companion and the Doctor to be very different to Rose’s hero-worship. I liked Rose’s “I want to be the Doctor” arc this year, but I wouldn’t like to go there again. It got just a little too mushy by the end.
• An awesome, brand-new, monster/race/evil thing.

That’ll do. The gods of television seem to be doing their best to keep me occupied with TV. Who finished the week before Stargate returned, Stargate will run until Battlestar Galactica and Torchwood start, and there’s christmas specials and more Stargate to fill in the gaps between then and season three. What an age we live in.

The situation in Lebanon is truly horrific. I was shocked that after hearing the smooth-talking Israeli Foreign Minister outline their plan on The 7:30 Report I almost thought it was a completely legitimate policy to bomb a country into oblivion and then open negotiations. Everything’s so messy over there that I can barely form an opinion either way, but there’s one particular, far less controversial, aspect which befuddles me.

How do you spell Hezbollah?

All the Australian news (i.e. ABC Online) seems agreed on the above spelling. But then I was reading TIME.com and found that they prefer “Hizballah”. Well, I thought, I’m sure we can clear this up. I’ll just google it. There’s bound to be a simple answer.

Ahem. Potential spellings of Hezbollah include:

• Hezbollah
• Hizballah
• Hisballah
• Hizbollah
• Hezballah
• Hizbullah
• Hisbollah
• Hizb’ALLAH
• Hizb Allah

I eventually found my way to Wikipedia (I would have gotten there straight away but I, er, spelled Hezbollah incorrectly). Those last ones there give an insight into the word: turns out translating from Arabic is tricky sometimes. “Hizb” means “party”, and you may remember “Allah” (God) from some of his previous work. Apparently the Lebanese dialect gets Hizb closer to Hezb, hence some of the confusion. Wikipedia claimed that Al Jazeera used the final spelling but a quick check reveals them to conform with the very common “Hezbollah”.

I hope I’ve cleared that up for everyone. I expect I’ve missed some vital piece of the puzzle where all the confusion was started as a plan to vaguely irritate the party into surrendering.

It’s done. I’m a biker. I know because on the way to work this morning other bikers I saw were giving me the ever so slight ‘you are one of us’ nod of the head as we past. Or they were riding over pot holes.

I’ve got one of these. It’s a Honda CBR250RR. It’s got a small engine but it’s 4-stroke so it’s zippy and fuel efficient. The petrol tank is 14 litres so I can fill it up for less than $20

Riding isn’t all chocolates and fuel economy. I almost sneezed this morning while riding. Narrowly avoided that disaster. My visor fogs up when I’m sitting at the lights as there’s no wind flowing through the ventilation in the helmet and I have to breathe exhaust fumes – I’m not a fan of traffic lights. I haven’t mastered lane splitting yet. I don’t ride on congested freeways, just narrow two lane roads so there’s not much room to sneak through, especially with trucks and buses. I’ll have to observe other riders techniques. It’s legally dubious too, and if I die I want to at least have the moral high ground. Although this training CD from VicRoads suggested it was better to not die at all — a novel philosophy. It’s also made me paranoid. Car drivers are crazy. Who knows what those cagers (as us bikers call those poor saps) are about to do?

I had a little trouble getting the bike registered. Between Tom’s unholy electrical draining power and the 28 day limit on road worthy certificates, I only had one chance to get to VicRoads for registration which my bike refused to start for. Several hundred dollars later, everything’s fine. Spark plugs were replaced, carburetter balanced and the wallfor reoiled.

But that’s all over now. Vrooom!

In a joint statement earlier this morning, Thomas Charman and Andrew Cocker, speaking as representatives of the vast ATYPICALREVIEW staff, declared war on Italy and all its sundry bits and pieces, if indeed it has any of those.

“This is the last straw,” said Mr Cocker. “The straw that broke the camel’s back. The straw basket that fell apart dropping all your eggs. The straw kryptonite dagger stabbing you in your back. Do you know those conniving dogs have been playing games while we slept? We’re not going to take this lying down any longer. And their nickname ‘Les Azzurri’ — the translation is ‘les blue’. How stupid is that? Les blue. Doesn’t even make any sense. What else are they hiding from us?”

The announcement came hot on the heels of Italy’s defeat of home team Germany in extra time in the World Cup semi-finals. ATR betting funds already decimated by Italy’s defeat of Australia last month were further damaged by Germany’s loss.

“The Italians have grievously and maliciously sabotaged our monetary interests in the World Cup,” declared Mr Charman. “They have dashed our hopes and dreams of boodles galore. I hereby declare war on the country, and a boycott of all their products. No more will I wear Armani Suits. My Prada shoes — in the bin.”

“Life memberships of the We Love Puccini Opera Club have been burnt by our white hot rage,” interjected Mr Cocker.

“I’ve seen my last film at Cinema Europa,” continued Mr Charman. “What else?”

“No Italian foods. No Espressos, no Spaghetti,” added Mr Cocker.

“Er. Hah. Yes, alright, no Spaghetti.” proclaimed Mr Charman hesitantly.

“No more tasty Bolognese, creamy Alfredo or bacony Carbonara sauces,” suggested Mr Cocker, “And no Minestrone.”

“Hrmmmm. OK, no Minestrone. None of those creamy and bacony and tasty sauces.” declared Mr Charman with rapidly diminishing fervour.

“No Risotto, No Lasagne,” announced Mr Cocker as he counted items off on his fingers.

“Ack! I mean, yes. No risotto, and no … sob … lasagne.” said Mr Charman, fighting back tears.

“And no pizza,” Mr Cocker concluded.

“And no… no… ” Mr Charman paused, cast a shaken look at Mr Cocker, and collapsed to his knees, eyes skyward, fists raised in rage.

“Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!” howled Mr Charman. “I’ll get you next time Italy. NEXT TIME!!!“

NEWS FLASH — BREAKING UPDATE

This just in; a second, somewhat hurried statement was tearfully issued later in the day, cancelling the war and ordering a Spaghetti Bolognese Pizza from Lygon St.