I love the written word. How’d I get so enamored? Pretty sure it was mysteries. I could soak up two or three of those cheap little mystery books a day when I was a kid.
There’s two types of mysteries, in general. There’s the kind that you can figure out or predict, and those that are freaking impossible. A typical mystery/thriller nowadays is something you might be able to figure out, or at least get somewhere near the potential target.
On the other side we have stuff like Sherlock Holmes. Things are so muddled and confusing, there’s no way to get there. That’s the point—Sherlock is the vehicle we have to have in order to get to the result.
The point is that this guy is bloody brilliant, more brilliant than you can be or ever will.
Nowadays I look forward to Endeavour. Great show. It follows a pattern. The intro throws fifty things at you that you’ve never seen and asks you to become a master of memory and life in three seconds. Same principle as Sherlock, maybe not as flashy but so solid. Then again, I maybe too dumb to follow it.
Check it out if you have time. See you after.