A small cottage near Poldhu Bay

 In the many decades of Sherlockian life, our writers have often referred to this hobby and the world its stories conjure as a sweet place to escape the grim realities of everyday life. But this morning, after listening to my favorite Sherlockian podcast inserting commercials and a clip from another podcast on their network -- in which British folks comment on an American political event -- I don't know that the escape hatch is completely closing.

Friday night, during our long, long Dangling Prussian zoom of Sherlockian rambles, I even had to shut down what quickly was turning into a debate on a certain point of political dispute in the one uncomfortable moment of the night. "He Who Shall Not Be Named," as some called him the first time out, was not named or even a part of the discussion, but the influence of that 800-pound gorilla in the room was surely what turned the conversation in the direction it went.

I've had to do the 30-day mute on some Sherlockian folks on Facebook, who tend to be more political in their talking points as well. Some of us have enough other stressers in our lives right now without adding politics into the mix, and the aforementioned gorilla's constant need for showboating is going to be adding politics in the mix wherever possible . . . so how does even Sherlockiana remain a respite from the cares of the day?

And we do need that respite. There is a time for fighting battles, and there is a time for resting from that fight. To take our grim humours to a small cottage near Poldhu Bay at the furthest extremity of the Cornish peninsula, so to speak, as Holmes and Watson did at the start of "The Adventure of the Devil's Foot." Perhaps that's not the right metaphor, for as well-intentioned as that break began, anything that ends up being called "the Cornish horror" is probably not something that was a great vacation.

So here we are, with "the advent of some unspeakable dweller upon the threshold whose very shadow would blast my soul." Too much? I love that line too much not to use it here, but it does describe the vision that so many are seeing right now in America. We're not yet sure how much is puffed up showboating and how much real damage is about to be done . . . and now I've gone and done it, started talking about the whole thing that I pretty much wanted to avoid for those who want to just stick with the topic we all came to this hobby to bond over: Sherlock Holmes. John Watson. And all that swirls around them.

Sherlock Holmes. John Watson. Just typing those names felt good right now. Solid. Dependable. Adding just a sprinkle of seasoning of order to the universe just by typing those names. They are the best of us, and we need to remember the best of us right now. And that even Reichenbach Falls didn't claim Sherlock Holmes forever.

Sherlock Holmes. John Watson. Sherlock Holmes. John Watson.

Off to work . . .