Yup, I like it. And the reason I like it is because I know what it is. I know what to expect from it. I know what it's all about. Torchwood is, more than anything else, a bit of fluff to lose yourself in for an hour. It's not wonderful, heart-thumping drama, it's not laugh out loud comedy, it's not even all that good, usually. But it is something that could be described as "escapist rubbish" in a good way.
Torchwood: Miracle Day has been on for 6 weeks in the UK now. 7 weeks in the USA (are you still upset about that? Boo hoo!); it's only a ten-part series and it seems that, so far, nothing has really happened.
Episode 7 sheds a little more light on the whole situation regarding "The Miracle" or "The Blessing" as it was called in Italy in the 1990s, according to Winston Zedmore. But nothing really progresses. But still, it feels as though the plot is thundering along - it's not! If I was expecting high drama and a rip-roaringly exciting storyline I'd be sorely disappointed. As it is, expecting snappy if cheesy lines, a bit of bumming and enough action to keep my brain busy for an hour, I seem to have forgiven this unforgivable sin. And so what? If you don't like it, don't watch it. The sensible among you - knowing you don't like it - have already stopped tuning in and I respect that!
There are others out there, however, who are scouring the internet for NEXT WEEK'S episode (airing in the US this week) in order to sneer and criticise. And if that's what you want to do then, sure, do that. I'll do this: turn off my brain, enjoy the explosions, Oswald Danes, Kissinger and Gwen. I'll smile when there's a Doctor Who reference and save my "fanboy" worrying for next Saturday.
I like Torchwood. I always have, I think I always will. And I like it because it's a slice of rubbish that never takes itself too seriously. And I don't think there's anything wrong with that.