Now that you mention it, have you noticed how the tardis appears to be larger on the inside than it is on the outside? Can’t believe they screwed up the continuity so badly
What about the aliens who were on the planet before it was quarantined? As you said, nobody would be allowed in or out during the quarantine.
If Two Streams is intended only for Appalappuchians (does anyone actually know how to spell that?) then why would you need to program the medical facilities for any other lifeform?
It’s like asking why a human hospital doesn’t accomodate ill iguanas.
First, the visitor facility maintains quarantine - why shouldn’t ill people and their loved ones be able to talk to each other?
As for the button choosing - maybe Appalappuchians are more honest about that than we are. Or something. They are aliens, after all.
Yeah, OK, that didn’t make a lot of sense to me, either, but here’s my theory. You see - OH LOOK SHINY!!!
You mean… nothing like the scene in “Let’s Kill Hitler” where she uses the sonic screwdriver to revoke the privileges of everyone on board the Tesslecta, triggering a homicidal rampage by the on-board anti-bodies?
She did have access to sophisticated computer/library from a technologically advanced society during her 36 years at Two Streams. “Books” and “schematics” were probably easily obtained from the Appalappuchian equivalent of the internet. Parts might be a bit more difficult to acquire, but there were a lot of advanced robots wandering around, maybe she used parts from them?
The Interface is there to provide information and entertainment. The place isn’t a prison in the punitive sense, why restrict information for the patients? The handbots, though are there to provide medical and maintain quarantine. You don’t want that system hacked, do you?
Maybe she asked the interface why the handbots kept wanting to touch her?
I thought she got it when two handbots touched each other, prompting both to shut down…
I generally found the episode to be watchable, but older Amy just seemed like she was making needless trouble with her insistence on refusing to help. I know, being wiped from existence is normally something to avoid. But if a time traveler came to me and said that I could help out my younger self and have things unfold in a more desirable fashion, I think I’d go ahead and do it. My life hasn’t exactly been hellish, but not so fantastic that I wouldn’t try another roll of the dice.
Anglicans in space. There’s a WORLD of difference. 
I should have realized that - sorry.
No problem. Don’t worry about it.
In retrospect, it would make more sense if it were the healthy people that went into the accelerated time stream, where they can live out their lives in comfort and safety from the virus, while the infected person can in the last day of their life get to live out a lifetime with them (in condensed form).
And, it occurs…perhaps the two streams aren’t ‘red waterfall’ and ‘green anchor’, but ‘patient’ and ‘virus’ - the patient gets an accelerated timestream, while the virus only gets to progress at normal speed.
Is it just me or does Appulapachia sound like something you’d order in Starbucks?
I thought it sounded like a mountain range with banjos echoing in the distance…
-Joe
Unless you arrive at a hospital in an ambulance, you go in through the same door whether you are a patient or a visitor. There’s gotta be some point where the patients and visitors are together, before the patients get separated. Maybe you stick a mask over their/your face till you get to the facility to get separated?
Arguably they need better instructions prior to the button zone. Something that tells you “Greetings, Apulapucian, this is the Two-Streams facility. If you are bringing your loved one to this quarantine facility, please press the Green Anchor button for the visitor timeline. If you are a patient at the Two-Streams facility, please press the Red Waterfall button.” Or something like that. Maybe that occurs before the hallway where the buttons are actually located. After all, The TARDIS snuck in through the quarantine itself, surely it can sneak past the front door instruction zone.
I had to think about that, but notice how the Doctor asked Amy what she ate in that week she’d been waiting between one flicker on the screen and the next, and she said “nothing”. I think the idea is that somehow certain metabolic functions are not accelerated, i.e. hunger and disease progression. Of course, seems weird to separate those metabolic functions from other metabolic functions of aging. Yeah, it’s a plot gimmick that is hard to hold up.
Maybe the Two-Streams facility is for Apulapucians, and there’s another hospital for aliens?
But that’s the point. Old Amy would essentially be committing suicide to help the younger self. She would be terminating her stream of existence, and the next time young Amy aged elsewhere, she’d be a completely different existence. Not just different experiences, but a different entity. It’s rather like making a clone of yourself. That clone might grow up in a very similar environment and have similar behaviors and interests, but it won’t be you. That is the essential thought point of the episode. It’s very similar to the transporter incident that happened to Riker on Next Gen, and
ended up making Thomas. Thomas Riker was Will Riker right up until that transporter incident, then had a separate existence. He was a completely different entity after that point.
Or another parallel would be Tuvix from Voyager (stupid transporter).
Tuvok and Neelix get caught in a transporter accident that merges them into one person, dubbed Tuvix. Tuvix, as a merged entity, has characteristics of both, but is a completely different entity than either of the original two.
Now maybe it’s noble to die to help someone else, especially if that someone else is a younger you, but the older Amy still ends up dead - gone - nonexistent. That’s a hard decision to make, when she could be the one saved instead. “Look, it’s 30 years, but I lived through it so you will too, and now I finally get away. Why should I let you go instead, and me end up dead?” Future Amy was saying “I’m not ready to die, even for you.”
For some odd reason, about ¾ of the time I thought they were saying, “This is a Communist.”
Are you a Buffy fan? Because this seems more like someone at the end of “The Wish” going up to Giles and saying, “You know what, this reality is a nightmare, pretty much all of my friends are dead and I’m probably going to be kidnapped by vampires and farmed for my blood any day now, but I’m not so sure I want you to change history. Maybe you could just leave well enough alone?” I’m a big fan of set-right-what-once-went-wrong storytelling, and most of the time, it doesn’t seem as though the people in the “wrong” storyline are all that broken up over having things go better, much less ready to prevent it.
I know when I was watching, I was thinking that if I was in that situation I’d jump at the chance to rewrite my own history.
But that’s the philosophical point. Those stories aren’t engaging the question of what happens to the alternate identity, and whether it is the same identity or not. They aren’t exploring that question, so the wish fulfillment of fixing what went wrong is a good thing. It’s assumed that the core person is the same, and that the events that happened don’t change the existence of that person. Note that in that story,
At the end, Gile’s smashing of the amulet in the alternate timeline means Anya doesn’t have her powers in the restored timeline.
But some people wish to explore just what existence is, and use alternate timelines/parallel universes/SF technology to explore that concept.
An alternate version is a story I heard described but don’t think I read. The story involved the use of a teleporter technology, where the person steps into a box at one end, is supposedly broken down into constituent parts or whatever, and reconstituted at the far end in the other box. And so there’s this guy who has gone through this process any number of times. One day he steps into the teleporter, activates it, and finds himself in a room full of identical copies of himself. He asks what happened. Apparently the teleporter doesn’t actually take you apart and send your components or whatever, it just scans you and then shuffles you off to a back room, then reconstitutes a new you at the far end. So this copy was the copy that had emerged at the far end for umpteen number of times, and then this time was the one who was shuffled aside, into a room full of previous copies that didn’t make it through prior transports.
Sure, there’s a major obstacle to that story, including the logistics of keeping a giant room full of duplicates alive, how the box sorts different people into different rooms, why etc. But it asks the philosophical question of what identity is.
I’m also reminded of The Prestige. This is a story about two competing magicians in the late 19th century, engaged in some sort of fued (over a woman and confusion that resulted in her death). One of the magicians creates this original and spectacular trick that involves instant teleportation across a room or stage. And he sets it up well. The other is desparately searching to a) find out exactly how he does it, and b) do the same trick, but better. In the end
The second magician has Nicola Tesla invent a teleportation device that actually works, but with a catch. It doesn’t teleport, it creates an exact duplicate at the far end, but leaves the original intact and in place. Tesla has to run off before fixing that, but the magician takes the technology anyway. He then institutes to use the technology as his newly amped up version of the trick. The catch - each night as he steps into the booth to be teleported, the original him drops through a trapdoor into a tank of water to drown to death while the teleported copy emerges from the far side of the room. Naturally, this creates an incident that frames the storytelling and is not revealed until the end.
The movie handles it slightly different than the book; that’s from the movie version.
Anyway, people have had a debate about the idea of teleportation, and whether the person emerging at the far end is really the person who entered the near end. Sometimes that conversation gets into metaphysical and religious concepts to make the point. If there is a non-material mystical “soul” that is more than just a manifestation of the matter that is your human body/brain, then there’s no guarantee a device that is designed to perfectly duplicate/replicate/resurrect the body will capture that special soul. You could in effect be creating look-alike zombies that don’t function, while perhaps murdering the person who steps in to be teleported as the technology rips that body apart.
That’s not to say every story has to explore that concept, or worry about it. But this story did.
No shit. The chance to not have spent 30 odd years running from touchy-feelie robots? Not a problem.
Kind of the whole point. When she refused to help she wasn’t acting rationally, she was acting out of bitterness.
-Joe
And self preservation.
But hell, I’d love to change the last 18 years of my life, and they haven’t been anywhere near as bad as Amy’s 36 years. So if that resulted in the “death” of the current me I’d have no problem with that.