Just a little nasty driveby; just a little reminder of what the Doctor does. Maybe it's meaningful, maybe not. Still don't know about all these little recycled moments. I mean, if asked, I would say that this is an indictment of the idea of the Doctor himself, by the strong hands of those armies and congregations that labor in his service: That the difference between gods and men is that gods don't die, and they can leave whenever they want, so fucking leave already: What if we had ideas that could think for themselves? What if one day our dreams no longer needed us? Then you're in a Gnostic nightmare, from which the only escape is smashing every statue in the maze.
"Angel Bob, which Angel am I talking to? The one from the ship?" Yeah, the only one that's working. The one that is behind them, that used to be above them. Well, good: Better to escape along the route they were already rocking. But what's this? Amy's having a huge problem? Why yes, it's about that time by the clock on the wall. And what is this problem? I hope she doesn't have sand coming out of her eyeball! No, that's over: Now her hand is made of stone, she's gone hard, stuck to part of the passage. Worrisome. She's sort of freaking out about it, honestly. "You looked into the eyes of an Angel, didn't you?" She apologizes, and he explains several times that the thing is messing with her head, from inside her head. Another thing they can do, apparently.
So she shivers and dithers and he tells her it's all in her mind, and that goes on for awhile, and he's like, "The Angel is gonna come and it's gonna turn this light off, and then there's nothing I can do to stop it," which is really not helping, and "We're both going to die," which is really not helping, and she's like, "Go on without me!" Because she is a brave soul and because she knows, per River's diary, that he's got a lot of things left to deal with, and he explains yet again that time can be rewritten, and it's like we're watching the last three episodes in slow succession, and he goes, "Keep your eyes on it. Don't blink." Which, just say that fifty more times please, even when it doesn't make sense.
Amy's like, "You can't die for me! I'm not that clingy! Go save the people!" and the whole time he's like, "You are not turning to stone!" I mean, they yell about this for a seriously long time, and the music is like CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS SHIT, and he tells her she's "magnificent" and they have a tearful goodbye sort of scene, and then he bites her on the hand, which causes her to jerk back, because... She is not turning to stone, there is no sand in her itchy eyeball, and the whole last scene was just a fantasy, which the Doctor cured by the power of wishing, much like when Amy went into that instant coma and he yelled at her to remember the Alamo or whatever. That maybe faith is the thing that helps you ignore what you think is reality in order to make the jump to something better, perhaps. That good faith is the ability to jump out of bad faith, to keep moving just long enough to save yourself from turning to stone.