As a substantial proportion of you will already know (but I shouldn’t assume, so will do this quick explanatory paragraph), Torchwood was originally a spin-off from (and indeed an anagram of) Dr Who, set in Cardiff. Now it has mutated into Torchwood: Miracle Day and is set in America. This post won’t contain any specific spoilers: what I want to talk about is the overall premise of this new series.

Woody Allen, whom I am legally obliged to quote at this point, said “I don’t want to achieve immortality through my work. I want to achieve it through not dying”. He should do a guest spot on Torchwood, his quote made flesh. As the show starts, death stops. It’s Miracle Day: everyone lives. The only mortal left is the main character, Captain Jack (John Barrowman), who until then has been the only immortal.

My problem is, I think the show should have been called Torchwood: In Hell. I find immortality terrifying. By the end of the first episode I was just sitting there curled into a childlike ball, thinking “Why are people still going to work and talking about stuff and developing interpersonal relationships? Why isn’t everyone just hiding in a small room, gibbering?” From talking to other people, though, I’m in a minority – maybe even a minority of one, though it seems unlikely – because other people are coping fine with this premise.

But how? This isn’t just immortality. When Captain Jack had it, he also had eternal youth and limitless healing powers. This new ‘miracle’ just means you can’t die. You get hurt (often a lot), you get older (presumably – it’s too soon to know), but you stay alive. And conscious, apparently, although I assume people are managing to sleep (which is a bit of a plot hole then, but never mind).

In other words, this is a nightmare, specifically my nightmare but also, surely, everyone’s. Eternal suffering, without relief. Oh, and babies are still being born, so soon there will be no resources and everyone will be hungry and homeless except the very rich and callous. Suffering and starving and on the streets. If there’s even room on the streets. Within a year people will be stacked on top of one another like very thin, softly moaning Jenga.*

It’s not just Torchwood, though. It is a mystery to me why anyone thinks eternal life is desirable in any way. The only vaguely bearable version is the kind where you can choose to die. If you don’t have that option, it’s just horrific no matter what you’re doing with your time.

The Christian version sounds all right at first glance. From what I can gather you don’t exactly experience time passing in heaven; you just… stop, or something, and enjoy eternal bliss. Fine. I’ll assume you never get bored or irritable or want to eat a pie, and I’m sure the presence of the Almighty is very soothing. But I still don’t want it. I want to die and be gone – living a long and happy life, yes, living on in my children and whatever I’ve written, cool, but that’s my hard limit.**

Because there’s absolutely nothing that’s fun to do a billion billion times over (and that definitely includes singing Hallelujahs to the god who gave you eternity in the first place). And also: endings are what gives everything shape.

Like this.

*What will actually happen, I assume, is that the Torchwood team resolve the problem and people start dying again. Though what should really happen is that the Doctor turns up to resolve everything, because this is still his universe. But never mind.

**And while you’re at it, give me a quick stab or something just to make sure I’m dead, because my other big phobia is being buried alive. Thank you.

I can't believe I found this in Microsoft Clip Art. What kind of Powerpoint presentation requires a homicidal cherub?