All this time, whenever I happened to be in Gower street, I checked the doorknocker and not once it was straight, so I would straighten it and feel very proud, what would they do without me.
I was genuinely terrified when Sherlock looked at the 221B door in outrage and said “he straightened the knocker, it’s OCD”.
Oh god they noticed I always straighten the knocker. Logan told me, it’s how they want it, that’s why it’s always like that.
Who? Who noticed it? Arwel Wyn Jones? Moffat himself? Someone compusively straightening the knocker.
I sit here, in awe of Moffat’s genius.
How did he know it was me? How did he know about Danny the drug dealer?
Billy Wiggins is clearly Danny the drug dealer from Withnail&I. The coat, the flat, the addiction, the friendship. Now Danny. Is it a coincidence? Lazy universe? I don’t care.
I don’t care if it’s only me, I admire.
I admire how Moffat and Cumberbatch have instilled Withnail into the series somehow.
I admire how Moffat and Gatiss could not bear to kill Mary Morstan, who could bear to kill Mary Morstan with their own hands? Conan Doyle could not even tell how was it that she died, who could bear to see John lose Mary? So to spare all of us some of the pain, he waited for Mary to be dead already and made John marry someone else, the woman who took Mary’s identity, the woman we know nothing about, except that she’s different.
I admire how Gatiss is being seamlessly true both to Conan Doyle and to The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes, he always said he would. The drunk dialogue killed me. Was it just the incoherent babbling of two drunks? Or were they referring to John Watson’s international reputation?
In an experience of women which extends over many nations and three separate continents, I have never looked upon a face which gave a clearer promise of a refined and sensitive nature
The international reputation he can’t even remember now, and Sherlock can’t remember his own as a detective, is it a coincidence? Lazy universe? Anyway, it reminded me suddenly of a conversation I had with my awful ex boyfriend twenty years ago exactly. He asked me if I though that Withnail was gay and I said no, if he was gay it would have been explicit in the film and he said I think he is gay only they did not make it explicit because romance and sex are not the point of the film, friendship is the point of the film. Nasty piece of work my ex boyfriend, but very versed in text analysis.
I admire how terribly canon were the AGRA documents.
“The treasure is lost,” said Miss Morstan, calmly.
As I listened to the words and realized what they meant, a great shadow seemed to pass from my soul. I did not know how this Agra treasure had weighed me down, until now that it was finally removed. It was selfish, no doubt, disloyal, wrong, but I could realize nothing save that the golden barrier was gone from between us. “Thank God!” I ejaculated from my very heart.
She looked at me with a quick, questioning smile. “Why do you say that?” she asked.
“Because you are within my reach again,” I said, taking her hand. She did not withdraw it. “Because I love you, Mary, as truly as ever a man loved a woman. Because this treasure, these riches, sealed my lips. Now that they are gone I can tell you how I love you. That is why I said, ‘Thank God.'”
“Then I say, ‘Thank God,’ too,” she whispered, as I drew her to my side. Whoever had lost a treasure, I knew that night that I had gained one.
I admire that Redbeard, Shelock’s dead pirate brother, was an Irish terrier who still inhabits his mind palace.
I admire how Holmes’ “Victorian” approach to sex was updated. It’s hilarious, sweet and sad (the part were everyone uses sex in a manipulative way, which does not agree with Sherlock so better avoid it). It’s totally Private Life, but Irene still lingers. Janine was the perfect seduced maid from “The Adventure of Charles Augustus Milverton”, so innocent and so guilty at the same time, she’s going to get rid of the beehives in her new cottage in Sussex Downs! I wonder what’s going to happen when Sherlock retires there to be a beekeeper (canon).
“But the girl, Holmes?”
He shrugged his shoulders.
“You can’t help it, my dear Watson. You must play your cards as best you can when such a stake is on the table. However, I rejoice to say that I have a hated rival, who will certainly cut me out the instant that my back is turned. What a splendid night it is!”
I even like the greenhouses in Kew Gardens. Bit of an airline traffic overhead nowadays, but they have not lost their charm.
I fear what Mycroft may have done of Sherrinford, but I trust Moffat will find a way to save him somehow.
This is totally crazy.
To be honest, I was prepared for Mary to kill Magnussen in cold blood, as the canon blackmail victim who kills Milverton, but I was not ready for her to injure Sherlock and for Sherlock to kill Magnussen, in cold blood, just like Sally used to say he would, but for the exact opposite motives Sally had in mind, to save Mary, to save John’s daughter, to allow John to be free and not alone. It’s what House did for Wilson, gave his own life for Wilson to be free and not alone. That’s where the two characters end up to when you update them, apparently meaning is what we long for, in today’s society, it’s so boring without meaning.
I was shocked anyway. Sherlock Holmes is not supposed to kill people. John Watson is supposed to kill people, he was in the army, that’s what they do in the army all the time don’t they, and he actually killed someone in the very first episode, ok it was to save Sherlock’s very life, but then he had known Sherlock for what, 36 hours?
Nevertheless, I can’t deny it was also very satisfying. The Rupert Murdoch character shot dead, the white supremacist denied first aid, the papers lamenting that the show is now left biased. I even take some satisfaction from the general public whining that the show is no longer procedural. I’m only a bit sorry for the fandom, because the ending was cruel to them, unspoken (the fandom does not like unspoken), a handshake and a joke. But you know, the east wind is coming.
“There’s an east wind coming, Watson.”
“I think not, Holmes. It is very warm.”
“Good old Watson! You are the one fixed point in a changing age. There’s an east wind coming all the same, such a wind as never blew on England yet. It will be cold and bitter, Watson, and a good many of us may wither before its blast. But it’s God’s own wind none the less, and a cleaner, better, stronger land will lie in the sunshine when the storm has cleared. Start her up, Watson, for it’s time that we were on our way. I have a check for five hundred pounds which should be cashed early, for the drawer is quite capable of stopping it if he can.”
Of course I am different and I have many pressure points. You should visit my mind palace, it’s crowded. Only I don’t have an eidetic memory, my memory only cares about meaning, so it’s not a palace, it’s a postmodern city instead, like I heard once, cities are forests of meaning.