Blue!

I had gotten down to the wire about how there were two categories of deduction: plainly, stupidly obvious, and factually impossible.

Obvious: On a few occasions, Sherlock will notice a clue that is so stupidly obvious you will question if there is lead in the local water supply. The show will act like Sherlock is superior for this deduction, but in a real investigation, it would make this case take an hour to solve. You will question: Does the show think you are stupid? Answer: Yes! It does.

Impossible: The more common flaw, in nearly every other major case in the show, Sherlock Holmes will make a deduction that is impossible with the given evidence. He will attribute something with many explanations to the least likely one, he will incorrectly state the purpose or functionality of a clue, or he will make assumptions off of body language that would make a psychologist bite you. You will once again ask: Does this show think I am stupid? And of course, the answer will once again be: Yes!

But of course, the complaints I have did not end there. The character assassination of Irene Adler, the fundamental misunderstanding of the role Watson plays in Holmes' life, the strange way Moffat writes women as if to scream at you "See, I don't hate women! I fetishize lesbians!" It's all there.

But, you may be wondering:

"Abbie, why the fuck are you posting about Sherlock in 2026?" Aha but you see my dear Watson, this was not a post about Sherlock at all. Because if you had the missing information this post did not provide to you or in any way imply (like the show) you would know this was about how someone reacted to me infodumping.

At the peak of my rambling, my dearest old friend Noel cut me off and said,

"Hey, Abbie? I hate to out you, but this is reminding me of how in middle school, every time a new episode of Sherlock came out, you would come to school the next day PISSED OFF. Just glad to know you still deeply relate to Sherlock from the books hard enough that this STILL upsets you like this."

And that, my dear assistant, is how I, for the first time in many years, after having my special interest be human nature my entire life, was read to filth by the original subject of my bizarre studies.

The real mystery?

And Simon, who values his own name. Who values the identity it gives him. Who hates being called by some moniker, to be dismissed as just some convict, just another meaningless body to be used and discarded.