As a group, these lonely fascinated investigators of the Doctor come up with the need for a name. With the caveat that it should be good and strong, like for a team, Elton supplies the name: "London Investigation 'N Detective Agency. LINDA for short." (It's like Torchwood divided by UNIT times the Double Deckers, these kids.) Bridget likes the jaunty, not solemn nature of the name; Bliss like the 'N joke. "We're the men from LINDA!" shouts Skinner. "And the women!" shouts Bridget. "LINDA United!" shouts Skinner. Ursula asks Elton if he thought it up on the spot, and he shakes his head: "No, I've been wanting to use it for years." We raise a toast to LINDA. I really like that movie Trekkies. I like those people, honestly. I would like to be friends with them. I like Gabriel Köerner more than most of the people I've ever dated. I like that Tasha Yar still gets a paycheck. I like that lady with the ears who won't take off her uniform for anything. I even like that dentist who likes to dress up like Counselor Troi and knock boots with his wife. So when I say that LINDA makes me sad, I don't mean they suck; I mean I have no personal experience with any of this. If I had known that other people liked Power Pack and Pern and Phillip Jose Farmer, I would have been a vastly different eight-year-old. I didn't know. My life would have gone very differently indeed. But I was alone, so I changed, and I put that stuff aside, and I got shallow and I got hard, and that's what I am. There was no internet as such. I only like episodes with Beverly Crusher (drink) or Hugh of the Borg -- that's how out of it I am. So I'm looking at LINDA bifocally, because on the one hand, they're no more acceptable than Mensa, and I want to give them swirlies and black eyes, and take their milk money. But on the other hand: I like that they're all different ages and they still get along, and they have this thing they love soo much, and the rest of the world can fuck off, because they just don't get it. I like that. It's fierce. I like seeing some white-haired nerd lady turn to Gabriel Köerner and treat him like a Starfleet Captain. I cried, a little bit, watching a bootlegged copy of this year's Christmas Special teaser: the entire theatre took in breath as one, this sound of wonder, maybe two hundred people at once, all of them in love with exactly the same thing. It's big. But. I am firstly a bully, at heart; this is why I like Season 2 (and why I love Torchwood). I like it when people get knocked off their happiness, because that's how you grow. Nobody who loved you ever gave you anything: they just shined what was already there until it gleamed. But the people who hurt you, now, those are the people to be grateful for. Watch.