But -- correct me if I'm wrong -- didn't the Doctor say that each of "the flesh" had been infected with all the diseases -- like about a thousand diseases each? In which case there'd have been nothing for the Doctor to guess, he'd just know that he'd end up exactly like every other test subject in the incubators, all covered in pustules and whatnot.
The more I think about it, the more completely unworkable the whole plot becomes. We saw two of the diseases that "the flesh" was being afflicted with, and one turned you to stone while another one turned you red and left you hanging in midair making odd blipping noises ("Marconi's Disease"). So how was it that "the flesh", in spite of being afflicted with these very same diseases, were still spry and mobile (and flesh-coloured)?
Not to mention that having even ten different serious diseases at once would leave you completely incapacitated, let alone the thousand that "the flesh" were supposed to be carrying. Oy.
If Russell T. Davies were a six-year-old, I'd be congratulating him on a great story. But otherwise... not so much.
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Date: 2006-04-18 12:05 am (UTC)But -- correct me if I'm wrong -- didn't the Doctor say that each of "the flesh" had been infected with all the diseases -- like about a thousand diseases each? In which case there'd have been nothing for the Doctor to guess, he'd just know that he'd end up exactly like every other test subject in the incubators, all covered in pustules and whatnot.
The more I think about it, the more completely unworkable the whole plot becomes. We saw two of the diseases that "the flesh" was being afflicted with, and one turned you to stone while another one turned you red and left you hanging in midair making odd blipping noises ("Marconi's Disease"). So how was it that "the flesh", in spite of being afflicted with these very same diseases, were still spry and mobile (and flesh-coloured)?
Not to mention that having even ten different serious diseases at once would leave you completely incapacitated, let alone the thousand that "the flesh" were supposed to be carrying. Oy.
If Russell T. Davies were a six-year-old, I'd be congratulating him on a great story. But otherwise... not so much.