The time has come around once again, fellows. Our beloved Matt Smith will soon explode into a blazing, triumphant lightshow to be replaced with a shiny new model, and Whovians the world over will shun him immediately and say he will "never be as good as Matt Smith" and promptly denounce the show altogether, until of course it comes back on TV again and they have nothing better to do on a Saturday night. The passing of the Time Lord torch is almost ritualistic now, especially in Britain, where tabloids will often be plastered with various suppositions and speculations as to who the new Doctor may be. Personally, I hate it. I recall when Mr Eccleston regenerated into Mr Tennant, and I had no idea it was coming and promptly spilled my apple juice all over the upholstery in a fit of confusion. I didn't know he was going to regenerate. I didn't even know what regeneration was. I'd like to have that raw surprise this time around. Sadly, I frequent the internet and have friends (albeit in limited capacity), so I can't escape the knowledge that Mr Smith is on his way out. So be it. At least it allows me to fantasize about my perfect doctor.