An example of Whovian leaking into popular culture:
My Coldplay wristband has a life force of its own.
The writer is obviously thinking of something like Cybus Industries Earpods, or the Adipose, or indeed The Plastic Daffodils Of Death, as he discusses the glowing souvenir wristband reactivating of its own accord nine days after the gig.
“It’s not as if I didn’t think there was a perfectly rational explanation: more that the perfectly rational explanation might involve every person whose Xyloband had lit up marching like dead-eyed supplicants back to the Emirates, whereupon Chris Martin and our new reptile overlords would command us to shed our earthly containers. So, it was with some relief on Monday that I: (a) woke up to a world that seemed unchanged; and (b) happened upon a quote from Clive Banks, co-founder of RB Concepts, which makes Xylobands. “There’s no mind-control or tracking,” he said...” “... they are just for fun.”
“But while all this may help explain the psychology of the rock wristband as artefact, it doesn’t completely assuage the nagging fear that the next time my Xyloband flashes up, everything’s about to go a bit, well... a bit Doctor Who.”