Yeah, so I am maybe ready for Sherlock filming to go back indoors for a little while.
You all know barachiki is amazing with Photoshop, but that’s not the end of it! Check out her sweet crafting skills, which I was lucky enough to benefit from.
YES, that’s a recreation of the Pinkerton skull painting.
YES, that’s a sock monkey Sherlock Holmes.
AND YES, THAT IS A SCULPTED VERSION OF MY USER ICON, OMG.
I’m so behind on posts, I haven’t even shown you what My Watson gave me for Christmas.
It’s nice when someone gets you. (But then, that’s what Watsons do best.)
So this is the rest of my life on Tumblr, then.
People have these theories about what year Sherlock was born.
And I don’t really care at all.
I would like to know how old he was when Muppet Treasure Island came out.
Some days you go to blog about Sherlock while you’re waiting for a load of sweaters to come out of the wash… and then you end up crying because you’re accidentally John Watson.
(I was interrupted before I could post this for #canonfodderfriday last night, but here it is anyway.)
Many of the canon stories have what I consider a “twin.” The Adventure of the Yellow Face, though, is more like The Adventure of the Dancing Men and The Adventure of the Noble Bachelor got together and had a baby story. (And hid it in a well-furnished attic.)
The most notable aspect of The Yellow Face as far as Holmes’ character is concerned is that he hears the facts of the case and comes up with an entirely wrong answer.
The funny thing about it is that his wrong answer would’ve been right if the story had been The Dancing Men or The Noble Bachelor. A woman starts acting strange and secretive? Yep, it’s ‘cause the ex is lurking around. Getting it wrong in The Yellow Face is a bit of a sucker punch. If Arthur Conan Doyle had been in a different mood, Holmes’ answer could easily have been the solution.
And that’s what I think is funny when I see people go on about how smart Sherlock Holmes is. Or worse, put themselves down by saying they’re “no Sherlock” or that they’ll never be as smart as him.
(It occurs to me that some people I know probably think I have a boring life, and maybe they’re right most of the time. But today I invited 15,000 people to a party—what the hell did those other people do?)
ha ha ha my new laser pointer arrived on the same day we’re watching the great game
It’s taking a lot of willpower not to Photoshop Sherlock’s face onto the flyer a religious group stuck in my door.
I enjoy the annotated ones, but they can be so distracting for me.
For example, this week’s #canonfodderfriday story. I was reading The Five Orange Pips and trying to pick out something to say about Holmes or the actual plot or anything anyone might care about, but I fell in love with an annotation and I don’t think I can let it go.
So I give up, that’s what I’m posting this week.
First, the relevant bit of the story:
“Well, to come to an end of the matter, Mr. Holmes, and not to abuse your patience, there came a night when he made one of those drunken sallies from which he never came back. We found him, when we went to search for him, face downward in a little green-scummed pool, which lay at the foot of the garden. There was no sign of any violence, and the water was but two feet deep, so that the jury, having regard to his known eccentricity, brought in a verdict of ‘suicide.’”
And the annotation, via Klinger:
“[This is] surely an extraordinary verdict, under the circumstances,” observes Benjamin Clark in “The Horsham Fiasco,” “for who, drunk or sober, would ever attempt to end his life by lying face down in a two-feet-deep puddle?”
The Sherlock Holmes stories: Over a century of not entirely making sense but having people spend an incredible amount of time thinking about why that is.™
I’ll do better next week. Maybe.