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20 Years on, ‘The Christmas Invasion’ Is Still the Best ‘Doctor Who’ Christmas Special

20 Years on, ‘The Christmas Invasion’ Is Still the Best ‘Doctor Who’ Christmas Special

Although it’s not the first time a Doctor Who episode hasn’t aired on Christmas Day itself, Christmas 2025 will mark the first time in two decades that there’s not a special broadcast at all over the festive period—a final lump of coal in the stocking for what has been a very weird year for the Whoniverse. But maybe we should use the opportunity to revisit the episode that started the tradition off two decades ago because, really, it remains Doctor Who‘s actual best attempt at a Christmas story.

Twenty years ago tomorrow, “The Christmas Invasion”—technically the second Doctor Who Christmas broadcast after 1965’s “The Feast of Steven,” a bizarre story that is both not really a Christmas special and is now lost to time as one of Who‘s many remaining missing episodes—hit screens as the first full-episode debut of David Tennant’s 10th Doctor. Seeing the Doctor bedbound in a post-regenerative coma amid an invasion of Earth by the Sycorax, the episode is perhaps most fondly remembered now for Tennant’s immediate charm in taking on the Doctor, the modern era’s first chance to overcome the dramatic hurdle of a new actor taking on the mantle (and how easily he did it despite spending most of the runtime asleep in bed), setting the stage for a cultural dominance and interpretation of the Time Lord that neither the mainstream audience nor the show itself has ever really moved on from.

But beside that broader importance in the show’s legacy, “The Christmas Invasion” still charms because it is the first time that Doctor Who itself actually engaged with the idea of doing a Christmas story—and it went all the way in, in a manner that the show never really did again after it established this new tradition of the TARDIS showing up every holiday season. It’s an episode that is unabashedly “a Christmas episode of Doctor Who,” mashing together the show’s finest tropes with festive flair. Robots dressed as Santa marching through London streets playing carols before revealing their brass instruments as explosive weapons evoke the Autons (a fitting parallel, considering Doctor Who returned to screens with the plastic automatons) and a killer Christmas tree that is ripped right out of Doctor Who‘s playbook of turning the everyday into something ludicrous and yet still chilling: this is not Doctor Who with a tinselled set dressing, but one that unequivocally and gleefully roots itself in the spirit of the season.

And it’s not just the visual festivity, either. Thematically, “The Christmas Invasion” is similarly a wholehearted embrace of values and ideas we cherish during the holidays: the importance of family and community (even if, as was the case with the Doctor and Jackie Tyler, you don’t really have a history of getting along too well) and a faith in the hope that we can welcome others with open arms. It’s an episode about big emotions, from the Doctor grappling with his new sense of identity to Rose having to shoulder his recovery and the impending threat of the Sycorax—the kind of unwariness for the future we often find ourselves reflecting on amid the more joyous elements of Christmas—things that get to a cathartic climax not really with the aliens’ defeat, but in the embrace of the new Doctor and the Tyler residence’s Christmas dinner.

© BBC

There are grander Doctor Who festive specials. There are stories that are arguably stronger, episodes that are great Doctor Who first and festive specials second. There are stories that go about connecting to the holidays in more interesting ways than the admittedly cheesy track that “Christmas Invasion” takes (but then again, isn’t a little cheese part of both the festive season and Doctor Who‘s charm?). But for the past 20 years, and arguably for more years to come after the show returns next Christmas, it’s still the Doctor Who seasonal special to live up to. It set the gold standard of what Who could do with the trappings and themes of the period, wholeheartedly embracing them instead of treating them as an afterthought demanded by a broadcast slot.

“The Christmas Invasion” is a story that could only be told on Christmas and one that would be lessened if it was transposed to any other time of the year—and in the process of marrying Doctor Who with the holidays for whole generations of fans, it created a wonderful tradition that has strived to endure all these years later, even as the broader show itself has its own setbacks.

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#Tovala #Oven #Meal #Kit #Robot #Chef #Futurekitchen,food and drink,cooking,review,meal kits,shopping">The Tovala Oven and Meal Kit Is Like a Robot Chef of Future PastA garlic-herb salmon with risotto was probably the best among the family meals I tried. The chopped asparagus was less than visually appealing when drizzled in garlic butter, but still tasty and a bit crisp. The salmon was tender and flaky. And the sweet pea risotto had no choice but to be delicious. There was so much cheese, butter, and lemon it was pretty much a concert of fats and acid.That chicken parm was likewise a mountain of cheese and salt. It reminded me, pleasantly, of countless family meals I had as a child in the 1980s: cheese-topped chicken, garlic bread, shells stuffed with ricotta and topped with even more cheese. The big difference is that there is simply no way my mother would have cooked this meal without a vegetable.Toval app via Matthew KorfhageAnd nutrition is where Toval runs aground a little. The nutritional notes on that chicken parm meal betray 2,300 milligrams of sodium per serving, pretty much the entire daily allowance for an adult human. This is also on par with comparable servings of Stouffer’s meat lasagna. The Tovala meal also carried about 10 times the cholesterol as Stouffer’s.Many other meals followed a similar pattern, loading up on fats and salt in order to make meals tasty. The net effect is that it’s a lot more like rich restaurant food than what most people prepare at home. Whether this is a good or a bad quality is up to you.Only one meal of the seven I tried failed utterly: I flagged a teriyaki chicken dinner to my editor as a possible cultural crime against Japan. The meal was sweet soy drenching pale and steaming chicken, with an implausible side of thick egg rolls and some loose, unseasoned broccoli. It felt like the “Japanese” food you’d get at a mall food court in the ’90s. But again, this was a rare major misstep.A more pernicious issue, in meals designed for the whole family, is the near-universal high-fat, cholesterol, and sodium content. Many with the income and inclination to eat hearty, low-effort meals like the ones from Tovala are either parents with children, or people in the retirement bracket. Each has their own reason to desire a little more nutrition, and less fat and salt.By the end of a couple of weeks of testing recipes, I’ll admit I felt a little relieved. I was grateful to feel my arteries slowly reopen. Tovala’s culinary model makes a lot of sense to me, as a smart way of splitting the difference between prepared meals and fresh food. And the company has proven it can cook well. It might be nice if they’d also cook a diet that felt more sustainable.Power up with unlimited access to WIRED. Get best-in-class reporting that’s too important to ignore. Includes unlimited digital access and exclusive subscriber-only content. Subscribe Today.#Tovala #Oven #Meal #Kit #Robot #Chef #Futurekitchen,food and drink,cooking,review,meal kits,shopping


Power up with unlimited access to WIRED. Get best-in-class reporting that’s too important to ignore. Includes unlimited digital access and exclusive subscriber-only content. Subscribe Today.

#Tovala #Oven #Meal #Kit #Robot #Chef #Futurekitchen,food and drink,cooking,review,meal kits,shopping">The Tovala Oven and Meal Kit Is Like a Robot Chef of Future Past

A garlic-herb salmon with risotto was probably the best among the family meals I tried. The chopped asparagus was less than visually appealing when drizzled in garlic butter, but still tasty and a bit crisp. The salmon was tender and flaky. And the sweet pea risotto had no choice but to be delicious. There was so much cheese, butter, and lemon it was pretty much a concert of fats and acid.

That chicken parm was likewise a mountain of cheese and salt. It reminded me, pleasantly, of countless family meals I had as a child in the 1980s: cheese-topped chicken, garlic bread, shells stuffed with ricotta and topped with even more cheese. The big difference is that there is simply no way my mother would have cooked this meal without a vegetable.

Image may contain Page Text Electronics Mobile Phone and Phone

Toval app via Matthew Korfhage

And nutrition is where Toval runs aground a little. The nutritional notes on that chicken parm meal betray 2,300 milligrams of sodium per serving, pretty much the entire daily allowance for an adult human. This is also on par with comparable servings of Stouffer’s meat lasagna. The Tovala meal also carried about 10 times the cholesterol as Stouffer’s.

Many other meals followed a similar pattern, loading up on fats and salt in order to make meals tasty. The net effect is that it’s a lot more like rich restaurant food than what most people prepare at home. Whether this is a good or a bad quality is up to you.

Only one meal of the seven I tried failed utterly: I flagged a teriyaki chicken dinner to my editor as a possible cultural crime against Japan. The meal was sweet soy drenching pale and steaming chicken, with an implausible side of thick egg rolls and some loose, unseasoned broccoli. It felt like the “Japanese” food you’d get at a mall food court in the ’90s. But again, this was a rare major misstep.

A more pernicious issue, in meals designed for the whole family, is the near-universal high-fat, cholesterol, and sodium content. Many with the income and inclination to eat hearty, low-effort meals like the ones from Tovala are either parents with children, or people in the retirement bracket. Each has their own reason to desire a little more nutrition, and less fat and salt.

By the end of a couple of weeks of testing recipes, I’ll admit I felt a little relieved. I was grateful to feel my arteries slowly reopen. Tovala’s culinary model makes a lot of sense to me, as a smart way of splitting the difference between prepared meals and fresh food. And the company has proven it can cook well. It might be nice if they’d also cook a diet that felt more sustainable.


Power up with unlimited access to WIRED. Get best-in-class reporting that’s too important to ignore. Includes unlimited digital access and exclusive subscriber-only content. Subscribe Today.

#Tovala #Oven #Meal #Kit #Robot #Chef #Futurekitchen,food and drink,cooking,review,meal kits,shopping

Ask.com, originally founded as the Y2K stalwart Ask Jeeves, is officially dead.

“As IAC continues to sharpen its focus, we have made the decision to discontinue our search business, which includes Ask.com. After 25 years of answering the world’s questions, Ask.com officially closed on May 1, 2026,” the homepage now reads.

Ask Jeeves was launched in 1997 by the Berkeley-based duo Garrett Gruener and David Warthen, a year before Google’s now-dominant search engine debuted to the masses. At the time, Ask Jeeves’ natural language processing, combined with its personality-filled voice and branding, made it the go-to web search and answer engine for early internet adopters. The website’s butler mascot, Jeeves, modeled after the P.G. Wodehouse character, made appearances at the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, holding its own against other iconic corporate logos of the early 2000s.

“Can one man have all the answers?” If he has access to the entire internet, absolutely.

But while many still refer to the site by its 1990s name, Ask.com hasn’t been “Ask Jeeves” for nearly 20 years, with the brand dropping the latter word and its valet logo in 2006. The shift came after a change in ownership, when the brand was transferred to American holding company IAC. In 2009, Ask.com was dubbed the official search engine of NASCAR.

“We are deeply grateful to the brilliant engineers, designers, and teams who built and supported Ask over the decades. And to you — the millions of users who turned to us for answers in a rapidly changing world — thank you for your endless curiosity, your loyalty, and your trust,” Ask.com reads. “Jeeves’ spirit endures.”

Amid an overwhelming shift toward generative AI-powered search engines and a repositioning of AI agents as the future of web browsing, the loss of Ask.com feels like a true end of the early dot-com era. So long Jeeves, hello AI.

#Jeeves #Ask.com #officially #shuttered">No more Jeeves: Ask.com officially shuttered
                                                            Ask.com, originally founded as the Y2K stalwart Ask Jeeves, is officially dead.  “As IAC continues to sharpen its focus, we have made the decision to discontinue our search business, which includes Ask.com. After 25 years of answering the world’s questions, Ask.com officially closed on May 1, 2026,” the homepage now reads. 
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Ask Jeeves was launched in 1997 by the Berkeley-based duo Garrett Gruener and David Warthen, a year before Google’s now-dominant search engine debuted to the masses. At the time, Ask Jeeves’ natural language processing, combined with its personality-filled voice and branding, made it the go-to web search and answer engine for early internet adopters. The website’s butler mascot, Jeeves, modeled after the P.G. Wodehouse character, made appearances at the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, holding its own against other iconic corporate logos of the early 2000s. 
        
            Mashable Trend Report
        
        
    

“Can one man have all the answers?” If he has access to the entire internet, absolutely. But while many still refer to the site by its 1990s name, Ask.com hasn’t been “Ask Jeeves” for nearly 20 years, with the brand dropping the latter word and its valet logo in 2006. The shift came after a change in ownership, when the brand was transferred to American holding company IAC. In 2009, Ask.com was dubbed the official search engine of NASCAR.  
“We are deeply grateful to the brilliant engineers, designers, and teams who built and supported Ask over the decades. And to you — the millions of users who turned to us for answers in a rapidly changing world — thank you for your endless curiosity, your loyalty, and your trust,” Ask.com reads. “Jeeves’ spirit endures.”Amid an overwhelming shift toward generative AI-powered search engines and a repositioning of AI agents as the future of web browsing, the loss of Ask.com feels like a true end of the early dot-com era. So long Jeeves, hello AI. 

                    
                                    #Jeeves #Ask.com #officially #shuttered

Ask.com, originally founded as the Y2K stalwart Ask Jeeves, is officially dead.

“As IAC continues to sharpen its focus, we have made the decision to discontinue our search business, which includes Ask.com. After 25 years of answering the world’s questions, Ask.com officially closed on May 1, 2026,” the homepage now reads.

Ask Jeeves was launched in 1997 by the Berkeley-based duo Garrett Gruener and David Warthen, a year before Google’s now-dominant search engine debuted to the masses. At the time, Ask Jeeves’ natural language processing, combined with its personality-filled voice and branding, made it the go-to web search and answer engine for early internet adopters. The website’s butler mascot, Jeeves, modeled after the P.G. Wodehouse character, made appearances at the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, holding its own against other iconic corporate logos of the early 2000s.

“Can one man have all the answers?” If he has access to the entire internet, absolutely.

But while many still refer to the site by its 1990s name, Ask.com hasn’t been “Ask Jeeves” for nearly 20 years, with the brand dropping the latter word and its valet logo in 2006. The shift came after a change in ownership, when the brand was transferred to American holding company IAC. In 2009, Ask.com was dubbed the official search engine of NASCAR.

“We are deeply grateful to the brilliant engineers, designers, and teams who built and supported Ask over the decades. And to you — the millions of users who turned to us for answers in a rapidly changing world — thank you for your endless curiosity, your loyalty, and your trust,” Ask.com reads. “Jeeves’ spirit endures.”

Amid an overwhelming shift toward generative AI-powered search engines and a repositioning of AI agents as the future of web browsing, the loss of Ask.com feels like a true end of the early dot-com era. So long Jeeves, hello AI.

#Jeeves #Ask.com #officially #shuttered">No more Jeeves: Ask.com officially shuttered

Ask.com, originally founded as the Y2K stalwart Ask Jeeves, is officially dead.

“As IAC continues to sharpen its focus, we have made the decision to discontinue our search business, which includes Ask.com. After 25 years of answering the world’s questions, Ask.com officially closed on May 1, 2026,” the homepage now reads.

Ask Jeeves was launched in 1997 by the Berkeley-based duo Garrett Gruener and David Warthen, a year before Google’s now-dominant search engine debuted to the masses. At the time, Ask Jeeves’ natural language processing, combined with its personality-filled voice and branding, made it the go-to web search and answer engine for early internet adopters. The website’s butler mascot, Jeeves, modeled after the P.G. Wodehouse character, made appearances at the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, holding its own against other iconic corporate logos of the early 2000s.

“Can one man have all the answers?” If he has access to the entire internet, absolutely.

But while many still refer to the site by its 1990s name, Ask.com hasn’t been “Ask Jeeves” for nearly 20 years, with the brand dropping the latter word and its valet logo in 2006. The shift came after a change in ownership, when the brand was transferred to American holding company IAC. In 2009, Ask.com was dubbed the official search engine of NASCAR.

“We are deeply grateful to the brilliant engineers, designers, and teams who built and supported Ask over the decades. And to you — the millions of users who turned to us for answers in a rapidly changing world — thank you for your endless curiosity, your loyalty, and your trust,” Ask.com reads. “Jeeves’ spirit endures.”

Amid an overwhelming shift toward generative AI-powered search engines and a repositioning of AI agents as the future of web browsing, the loss of Ask.com feels like a true end of the early dot-com era. So long Jeeves, hello AI.

#Jeeves #Ask.com #officially #shuttered

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