Peace in Our Time

"That DEFEATIST RESPONSE 

has become part of a new 

System of Political CONTROL -- 

and to understand 

HOW this is happening : 

You Have to Look to Russia.

And to a man called 

Vladislav Serkov, 

who is a 

Hero of Our Time.

Serkov is one of President Putin's advisors, 

and has helped him maintain his Power for 15 YEARS -- 

but he has done it in a very new way.

He came originally from the avant-garde art world -- 

and those who have studied his career say 

that what Serkov has DONE 

is to import ideas from The World of Conceptual Art 

into the very heart of Politics.

His aim is to undermine 

People's PERCEPTION of The World, 

so they never know 

What is REALLY Happening.

Serkov turned Russian Politics 

into a bewildering, constantly changing piece of Theatre -- 

he sponsored all kinds of organisations, 

from Neo-Nazi Skinheads, 

to Liberal Human Rights Groups..... 

He even backed parties 

that were OPPOSED to President Putin.

But The Key Thing IS 

that Serkov then 

let it be KNOWN 

that this is 

What He Was Doing -- 

which meant that 

no-one was SURE 

what was Real, 

and what was Fake.

As one journalist put it : 

"It's a Strategy of Power 

that keeps ANY opposition 

CONSTANTLY CONFUSED -- 

a ceaseless shape-shifting,

that is UNSTOPPABLE 

because it is INDEFINABLE."

RAGNAROK

Wise men have regarded 

The Earth as A Tragedy, 

A Farce, even An Illusionist's Trick; 

but all, if they are truly wise and not 

merely intellectual rapists, recognise that 

it is certainly some kind of stage 

in which we all play roles, most of us being 

very poorly coached and totally unrehearsed 

before The Curtain rises.

Is it too much if I ask, tentatively, that 

we agree to look upon it as A Circus, 

a touring carnival wandering about The Sun 

for a record season of four billion years 

and producing new monsters and miracles, 

hoaxes and bloody mishaps, wonders and blunders, 

but never quite entertaining The Customers 

well enough to prevent them from leaving, 

one by one, and returning to their homes 

for a long and bored Winter's 

sleep under The Dust?

Then, say, for a while at least, that 

I have found an identity as Ringmaster; 

but that crown sits uneasily 

on my head (if I have a head) and 

I must warn you that the troupe is small 

for a universe this size and 

many of us have to double or triple 

our stints, so you can expect me 

back in many other guises. 

Indeed do many things come to pass.

Time’s Champion : 

The Climax of My Act, Gods of Ragnarok, 

requires something you do not 

possess in great abundance. 

That is, Imagination. 

And it starts, with 

A Piece of Metal. 

This Piece of Metal once belonged, to A Sword, 

and that sword, belonged to A Gladiator. 

(The Doctor throws the piece of metal into the air, 

where it transforms into A Gladius, and then 

A Broadsword drops into His Hand.) 

And that gladiator fought and died 

in this ring to entertain you.

I have fed you enough, Gods of Ragnarok; and 

You found what I have to offer indigestible. 

So, I have taken myself 

off The Menu. 

La comedia e finita. 

DAD: 

We command you. 

MUM: 

You cannot stop. 

Time’s Champion : 

I already have. 

DAD: 

Then you will die. 

Time’s Champion : 

Probably not. 

It's all a matter of Timing, 

don't you know --

(The Doctor points the sword to the ground.)

[Stone chamber]

ACE: 

Oi, sarcophagus face! 

(The Captain turns and Mags kicks the medallion out of his hand and into the well. 

It lands on the sword and the Doctor uses it to reflect the Gods' laser bolts back at them. 

The Eye in the well grows.)