And similarly, if you're working from the other angle, those people seem insane, because you get to be arrogant about how you would never have watched that bullshit with the rubber suits, and that this season seems to have been born as bullshit with rubber suits, and all the other benefits that come from living the neurotypical lifestyle. Missing the point -- and I say this as one of them -- entirely. How crude it must seem for those of us in Group B to barge into a sandbox that has been sitting there for sixty years, True Fans playing quietly among themselves, and we start throwing around Gay Agendas and Companion Worship and making the Doctor action figures kiss each other and demanding bathos and pathos and emotions and religion, when all Group A wanted were imaginative playtimes with complex intellectual toys and a little science and a little history and a lot of running around and a consistent episode-grading scheme that could be endlessly discussed.
Either way, it says a lot about us, and most of all about where our particular personal pride and self-image comes from, w/r/t to this particular thing at this particular time. "I am a Real Fan," says the apologist, and "This show is going down the tubes" says the newborn fan who feels burnt by the show returning to its sexist, heartless, meaningless roots. Neither of them are right, neither of them particularly behaving in a flattering way, but definitely -- I think you can see -- embroiled in an unhaveable conversation, in which stances are taken and defended to the death that have little merit and even less consequence. And if I had figured this out sometime over the past five years, maybe I could have gotten onboard with that, because gentle teasing about a silly fun thing is not something I'm terrible at, but the hateful futility of waiting for Godot with this particular iteration of the show has, at points, turned me completely terrible.)
Stonehenge! The Doctor and Song run around analyzing the rocks looking for ghosts and explaining shit to Amy, like how Song's not been to the Byzantium yet in her personal history, and eventually coming around to reexplaining the Pandorica once more, given their analysis: "If the Pandorica is here, it contains the mightiest warrior in history. Now, half the galaxy would want a piece of that. Maybe even fight over it." He puts a shapely ear to one big rock, and realizes they need to go down.
Science, and then a rock moves aside, leading them down old, old steps into Underhenge, which is under Stonehenge, which hence the name. Spooky ongoing times, and a Cybusman head nobody noticed, back up above, sparking and wiggling and being scary, and then they reach the central chamber, wherein is found among much musical grandeur the Pandorica. It's lovely, sort of Lament-Configurationy, and from off its door and stepping over more Cyberparts, the Doctor reads his story: