Well, overnight, I've lost all faith in Vincent Starrett.
You remember Vince, that classic Sherlockian writer and poet who gave us "221B," the Sherlockian Pledge of Allegiance to many generations of Holmes fans. He penned the words:
"England is England yet, for all our fears --
"Only those things the heart believes are true."
Those words used to be a comforting nod to how we'll always have the Sherlock Holmes stories and the atmosphere Watson/Doyle's pen evokes. But now?
"All our fears" has become a voting block that can do some really stupid things.
And "Only those things the heart believes are true?"
OH MY GOD, the bullshit that ideology is bringing down on our heads.
Fear and fantasy are turning the democratic process into a destructive force with the potential to set us on a course back to the dark ages, living in little feudal keeps stocked with weapons and no vaccines.
It was always such a joy to pick up a book and wander off to a place where "it is always eighteen ninety-five" when readers actually understood that it was not really eighteen ninety-five. But now?
Having watched the line between fantasy and reality blur itself into non-existence for so many folks that would rather believe a fiction than face a reality that disagrees with their childhood view of the world . . . .
I think we pretty much know for sure that no wise Mycroft Holmes is secretly steering the once Great Britain these days. And his brother Sherlock?
Well, he's always been a wish. And may become a stronger wish if current trends continue. A clear-eyed hero who can call out the truth of a situation will be just what we need.
Oh, and someone to write us a new poem. Sorry Vincent.