Argh. I have a meeting at 1 that I forgot about and don't want to go to. At least I'm wearing a dress.
Natter 68: Bork Bork Bork
Off-topic discussion. Wanna talk about corsets, duct tape, or physics? This is the place. Detailed discussion of any current-season TV must be whitefonted.
Plei, talk to me about Sally! Where did she come from, is she in the books, what's her deal?
The halftime "show" was a beeramid-building contest. For reals. (Only using plastic cups instead of beer cans.)
Wait, don't the plastic cups defeat the purpose?
Plei, talk to me about Sally! Where did she come from, is she in the books, what's her deal?
Sally's deal is clearly that she's my favorite of the NSYers. CLEARLY.
Signed, Vinette Robinson + Alex Kingston = I own the Hope Springs DVDs and once spent several hours just trying to get the perfect screen cap.
The halftime "show" was a beeramid-building contest. For reals. (Only using plastic cups instead of beer cans.)
Wait, don't the plastic cups defeat the purpose?
Since the contest was in the middle of the track, I think they didn't want to get any beer on the track. That could probably wreak merry hell on skate wheels.
Amy, your poor SIL is in the running for the all time worst year ever. I hope something good turns up for her.
I don't pretend to keep up with all the variations and adaptions of Sherlock Holmes, but I have reread the originals many times and own obsessive things like the annotated volumes. I don't see any evidence that Holmes is sexually attracted to anything. His admiration of Irene Adler strikes me as purely intellectual. The relationship with Watson is that of a friendless man who finds one person he can depend on and who understands him as much as anyone can. I think Holmes sometimes holds onto Watson like a drowning man, but it's not love in any traditional sense.
The relationship with Watson is that of a friendless man who finds one person he can depend on and who understands him as much as anyone can. I think Holmes sometimes holds onto Watson like a drowning man, but it's not love in any traditional sense.
Arguably, it is in at least some sense.
"You're not hurt, Watson? For God's sake, say that you are not hurt!"
It was worth a wound -- it was worth many wounds -- to know the depth of loyalty and love which lay behind that cold mask. The clear, hard eyes were dimmed for a moment, and the firm lips were shaking. For the one and only time I caught a glimpse of a great heart as well as of a great brain. All my years of humble but single-minded service culminated in that moment of revelation.
(Oh, Watson, you romantic goof, you.)
Sally's deal is clearly that she's my favorite of the NSYers. CLEARLY.
New Sherlock Years?
Wait, I didn't mean Sally. What's Watson's girlfriend's name? Her. Although, seriously, what's Sally's deal and why does she hate Sherlock so much.
New Scotland Yarders.
You mean Sarah. Who is not in the books. Watson in the books falls disgustingly head-over-heels for Mary in SIGN. Holmes* and I both make gagging noises at it, and then he goes and gets REALLY REALLY HIGH** as a response.
*"I fear that it may be the last investigation in which I shall have the chance of studying your methods. Miss Morstan has done me the honor to accept me as a husband in prospective."
He gave a most dismal groan. "I feared as much," said he. "I really cannot congratulate you."
I was a little hurt. "Have you any reason to be dissatisfied with my choice?" I asked.
"Not at all. I think she is one of the most charming young ladies I ever met, and might have been most useful in such work as we have been doing. She had a decided genius that way: witness the way in which she preserved that Agra plan from all the other papers of her father. But love is an emotional thing, and whatever is emotional is opposed to that true cold reason which I place above all things. I should never marry myself, lest I bias my judgment."
**"The division seems rather unfair," I remarked. "You have done all the work in this business. I get a wife out of it, Jones gets the credit, pray what remains for you?"
"For me," said Sherlock Holmes, "there still remains the cocaine-bottle." And he stretched his long white hand up for it.