The hour of Sherlock is finally near at hand.
Thanks to a just plain crazy idea by CBS television, America is about to be presented with an hour of that fellow I like to call "Mr. Elementary" in the most visible time slot of the year. After Sunday night's Super Bowl, which starts at 6:30 Eastern time and lasts on-average three hours and thirty-five minutes, CBS will follow up with a new episode of their hit-like series Elementary. One might call it the network TV equivalent of someone mooning a crowd because they're overly proud of their butt.
Not that I would say such a thing, of course. After Shreffgate, I have found my heart has grown three sizes for the fans of Elementary. That doesn't make the show any better, but given the choice of joining Jonny Lee Miller's fan club and becoming one of the Sherlockian Master Race, I guess I'm gonna have to go with Miller. (Until I actually see another episode, I suspect.)
So anyway, a new episode of Elementary called "The Deductionist" will be shown at sometime between 8:00 PM and midnight this Sunday, depending upon how long the game lasts, and what should be the show's biggest audience ever will be treated to seeing Jonny Lee Miller called "Sherlock Holmes," Lucy Liu called "Watson," and maybe even somebody called "Moriarty." Sure, that audience will probably be pretty drunk, as TV audiences go, and woozy with bellies full of chips, pizza, and queso dip . . . that just means they're going to be very suggestible. Not only perfect for CBS, but also perfect for the Sherlockian world.
A goodly number of those suggestible post-Super Bowl folks are probably going to wander on to internet social media sites like Twitter to see what insights their fellow humanoids have on this show called Elementary. Now, whatever your opinion of CBS's dropping its drawers at America, that hour will be a great time for putting one's Sherlock thoughts out on the web. Whether they're about Conan Doyle, Benedict Cumberbath, Irene Adler, or the novel Hellbirds, this is the opportunity to hold a Sherlock Holmes Twitter-party like you wouldn't believe, just by adding the hashtag "#Elementary" to your tweets.
One could even talk about the episode of Elementary that's showing on CBS during that time, and those rare moments when it might relate to any of the above, or something else from the original Sherlock Holmes stories. But no matter what you tweet, the moment is coming, for just that one fleeting hour, and we have to tone up our typing fingers, whip up our wits, maybe prepare a few lines in advance, and even possibly practice on Thursday night's new episode of Elementary.
Super Sherlock Sunday and the hour of Sherlock is finally at hand. I'll be there. Will you?
The ongoing investigation of Sherlock Holmes, reported from the Peoria, Illinois outpost of Baker Street's dirtiest half a dozen.
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Monday, January 28, 2013
Validation.
For some reason, once a Sherlockian takes their first steps into the larger world of Sherlock Holmes fandom, a little bit of insecurity often sets in. Where once it was just enjoyment of the Master Detective and having fun with one's friends, the fact that there's a larger community out there means we suddenly have a measuring stick to compare our own love of Sherlock to. It's a vague and nasty thing, playing on one's insecurities and giving narcissistic jerks just the tool they need to manipulate the more easily conned among us.
I've seen some remarkable and enthusiastic Sherlockians fall prey to the need to validate their status as a real Sherlockian over the years. I've also seen one or two minor league whackos try to set up their own mini-cults of Sherlock, with rules and ranks doled out to the true believer. We all set little goals for ourselves, whether it's getting an article or book published, travelling to some great Sherlockian site or event, or accomplishing some goal of Holmes fandom that no one has even thought of yet. But there's a big difference in goals one sets for one's self and those hoops arbitrarily lined up by some clown who's been in the hobby a few years longer than you.
As much as one hates to see a cranky old Sherlockian making blanket condemnations of the latest generation of Holmes fans, the thing I really hate to see is the newcomers falling prey to the thought, even unspoken, that there are set benchmarks they must attain to be a real Sherlock Holmes fan. Getting invited to the BSI dinner. Getting published in The Baker Street Journal. One needen't give the power to those particular institutions, or any other, if it doesn't fit your version of Holmes fan fun.
The great irony of the recent old-versus-new is that the Baker Street Babes probably have more followers worldwide than the Baker Street Irregulars. One could argue that the Babes have yet to stand the test of time, but there was a day when any other institution had yet to do the same. At this moment in time, I don't feel like it's the Babes that need to be validated by getting invited to some dinner in New York. From my point of view, the Baker Street Irregulars could show their modern relevance by getting featured on a Babes podcast. Validation is a two-way street.
That's the thing any new Sherlock Holmes fan needs to consider as they enter the larger world of Holmes fandom: The previous generations need you as much as you need them. Because one day, you're going to be the surviving face of Sherlock Holmes fandom. None of the best parts of this hobby happened because someone waited for their predecessors to grant approval. And the great Sherlockians are only great now because someone in the generation after them decided they were worth honoring. Think about that for a moment . . . .
Look around at the older Sherlockians you know. Who do you think gets to say whether or not they were important to Holmes culture once their day is done? Certainly no one of their generation. At some point, if you stay in this hobby long enough, you may not just be deciding the benchmarks for your own Sherlockian accomplishments, you could be deciding for those of us long past.
So if you're a relative newbie to the hobby and get a moment of insecurity when someone a little older starts to rant (like this guy right here), take the long view. And then remember to be nice to that generation behind you as well . . . .
I've seen some remarkable and enthusiastic Sherlockians fall prey to the need to validate their status as a real Sherlockian over the years. I've also seen one or two minor league whackos try to set up their own mini-cults of Sherlock, with rules and ranks doled out to the true believer. We all set little goals for ourselves, whether it's getting an article or book published, travelling to some great Sherlockian site or event, or accomplishing some goal of Holmes fandom that no one has even thought of yet. But there's a big difference in goals one sets for one's self and those hoops arbitrarily lined up by some clown who's been in the hobby a few years longer than you.
As much as one hates to see a cranky old Sherlockian making blanket condemnations of the latest generation of Holmes fans, the thing I really hate to see is the newcomers falling prey to the thought, even unspoken, that there are set benchmarks they must attain to be a real Sherlock Holmes fan. Getting invited to the BSI dinner. Getting published in The Baker Street Journal. One needen't give the power to those particular institutions, or any other, if it doesn't fit your version of Holmes fan fun.
The great irony of the recent old-versus-new is that the Baker Street Babes probably have more followers worldwide than the Baker Street Irregulars. One could argue that the Babes have yet to stand the test of time, but there was a day when any other institution had yet to do the same. At this moment in time, I don't feel like it's the Babes that need to be validated by getting invited to some dinner in New York. From my point of view, the Baker Street Irregulars could show their modern relevance by getting featured on a Babes podcast. Validation is a two-way street.
That's the thing any new Sherlock Holmes fan needs to consider as they enter the larger world of Holmes fandom: The previous generations need you as much as you need them. Because one day, you're going to be the surviving face of Sherlock Holmes fandom. None of the best parts of this hobby happened because someone waited for their predecessors to grant approval. And the great Sherlockians are only great now because someone in the generation after them decided they were worth honoring. Think about that for a moment . . . .
Look around at the older Sherlockians you know. Who do you think gets to say whether or not they were important to Holmes culture once their day is done? Certainly no one of their generation. At some point, if you stay in this hobby long enough, you may not just be deciding the benchmarks for your own Sherlockian accomplishments, you could be deciding for those of us long past.
So if you're a relative newbie to the hobby and get a moment of insecurity when someone a little older starts to rant (like this guy right here), take the long view. And then remember to be nice to that generation behind you as well . . . .
Sunday, January 27, 2013
BSJ Peoria arrival dates, 1992 to 2003
Since the pageviews here at Sherlock Peoria have been up this week, let me cool things down with an entirely dull spreadsheet blog of the arrival dates of The Baker Street Journal here in Peoria from the years 1992 to 2003. Why am I doing such a thing, you ask?
Well, my late friend Bob Burr had a habit of stamping his issues of the Journal with the date they arrived in his mailbox.
"No big deal," you would tend to think, but here's the thing. Since Bob was keeping close track of when each issue arrived, he would also pick on the current editor when said issue arrived late. Unlike newsstand magazines, who put future cover dates so they can be on the stands longer, The Baker Street Journal was usually dated with the month it came out. Only sometimes, as you will see, it came out much later than the month on the cover.
After many years, and Bob's harping at two or three editors, the cover date on the BSJ became seasonal, rather than monthly. You'll note this change happened after a pretty good run of issues a month or two late, so Bob may have not been the only one. (And I'm sure that uproar was nothing compared to the single issue of the BSJ with a mailing label affixed to its cover! Collectors everywhere probably went nuclear on that dark day.)
And so, with no further ado, the boring part . . .
Well, my late friend Bob Burr had a habit of stamping his issues of the Journal with the date they arrived in his mailbox.
"No big deal," you would tend to think, but here's the thing. Since Bob was keeping close track of when each issue arrived, he would also pick on the current editor when said issue arrived late. Unlike newsstand magazines, who put future cover dates so they can be on the stands longer, The Baker Street Journal was usually dated with the month it came out. Only sometimes, as you will see, it came out much later than the month on the cover.
After many years, and Bob's harping at two or three editors, the cover date on the BSJ became seasonal, rather than monthly. You'll note this change happened after a pretty good run of issues a month or two late, so Bob may have not been the only one. (And I'm sure that uproar was nothing compared to the single issue of the BSJ with a mailing label affixed to its cover! Collectors everywhere probably went nuclear on that dark day.)
And so, with no further ado, the boring part . . .
Saturday, January 26, 2013
Women kicking cranky old ass.
I am happy.
I am soooo happy.
Could it be Frida Frag's charming "A Love Letter to *All* Sherlockians?"
Well, that was the icing on the cake. There's a lady who definitely knows how to channel her energy in a positive direction, and I have to admire her for it.
But the cake, and the capital "B" Babe who baked it (being a Baker Street Babe, of course), was the ever amazing Kristina Manente, who kicked some cranky old man ass all over the internet tonight. Now, most folks will look at the cause of her righteous beatdown and raise up some anger of their own at the cause. But me?
Well, I could, if I went back in my files for full documentation, tell you a story of a St. Louis fangirl back in the 1980 who ran afoul of the same Sherlockian arrogance that made a run at Kristina thirty-three years later. It was a different time back then, women weren't allowed to be Baker Street Irregulars and pompous male assery was a lot more common, due to the lack of some female civilizing influence, I suspect. My friend the fangirl broke off from the established Sherlockian groups of her hometown and started a lively journal called The Baker Street Chronicle, which had a healthy bi-monthly run for five years and was always a treat to see arrive in the mailbox. But that bitter taste cause by one unpleasant Sherlockian was a hard one to get rid of, and undoubtedly changed the entire course of her Sherlockian life. I've seen that tale played out far too many times over the years.
So to see a flight of internet valkyries rising up on their winged steeds against that career offender and his snooty Sherlockianery is something like a miraculous vision of vindication. I love the world we're living in these days. Seeing current intolerance for something that bugged me in 1988 when the offending article first came out is a very lovely thing.
So in honor of Kristina Manente's whupping of an ancient evil, as well as Frida Frag's admirable response, I am just gonna hand out the blog-hugs on the net tonight, because I am certainly feeling the love. (And I'll sing a song from Lion King if I have to!)
Yes, and that means you Elementary fans, too . . . big hug!
I am soooo happy.
Could it be Frida Frag's charming "A Love Letter to *All* Sherlockians?"
Well, that was the icing on the cake. There's a lady who definitely knows how to channel her energy in a positive direction, and I have to admire her for it.
But the cake, and the capital "B" Babe who baked it (being a Baker Street Babe, of course), was the ever amazing Kristina Manente, who kicked some cranky old man ass all over the internet tonight. Now, most folks will look at the cause of her righteous beatdown and raise up some anger of their own at the cause. But me?
Well, I could, if I went back in my files for full documentation, tell you a story of a St. Louis fangirl back in the 1980 who ran afoul of the same Sherlockian arrogance that made a run at Kristina thirty-three years later. It was a different time back then, women weren't allowed to be Baker Street Irregulars and pompous male assery was a lot more common, due to the lack of some female civilizing influence, I suspect. My friend the fangirl broke off from the established Sherlockian groups of her hometown and started a lively journal called The Baker Street Chronicle, which had a healthy bi-monthly run for five years and was always a treat to see arrive in the mailbox. But that bitter taste cause by one unpleasant Sherlockian was a hard one to get rid of, and undoubtedly changed the entire course of her Sherlockian life. I've seen that tale played out far too many times over the years.
So to see a flight of internet valkyries rising up on their winged steeds against that career offender and his snooty Sherlockianery is something like a miraculous vision of vindication. I love the world we're living in these days. Seeing current intolerance for something that bugged me in 1988 when the offending article first came out is a very lovely thing.
So in honor of Kristina Manente's whupping of an ancient evil, as well as Frida Frag's admirable response, I am just gonna hand out the blog-hugs on the net tonight, because I am certainly feeling the love. (And I'll sing a song from Lion King if I have to!)
Yes, and that means you Elementary fans, too . . . big hug!
Thursday, January 24, 2013
Me, not hating the playa.
Cum dilectione hominum et odio vitiorum. ("With love for mankind and hatred of sins.")
Hate the sin and not the sinner.
Don't hate the player, hate the game.
In the comments following my most recent blog, the question was raised by frequent commenter James O'Reilly as to how I could be fully convincing in calling out those who judge others as "not serious Sherlockians," due to my ongoing insults toward viewers of that CBS TV phenomenon, Elementary.
Indeed, I have called them "wretched," "mindless," and a few other things. Earlier this week, I also intimated that the Mystery Writers of America were sad opium smokers who had fallen far from the Master Detective's pinnacle. But do I hate the fans of Elementary? Do I indeed see them as lesser beings, devoid of the divine spark that raised man from monkey? Do I spend my nights cursing the network gods that spawned such a generation of beings whose lemming-like ratings numbers keep Elementary on the air?
Nawwww . . . .
I just think they're wrong is all. So very, very wrong. My friend Bill Mason is waiting for the day and venue when we can debate that little issue in a public forum, as he actually likes the show. Would I question his Sherlockian mojo over one little lapse in good taste?
Nawwww . . . .
But let's be honest. Elementary is a very hate-able Sherlock Holmes related television show. How can I say that? Well, if you count the amount of blog material that I've gotten from loathing its very bones, that kinda speaks for itself. And you can't hate something that much without a little collateral damage. So, yes, I am sorry, lemming-zombie-monkeys, if you've felt like you've gotten hit with some of the watermelon spatter from this Gallagher act of blogging. I really don't hate any of you individually. And I don't think you're lesser Sherlockians or unable to fill out a healthy resume in the world of Sherlock Holmes fandom. I hope you do, if you haven't already. We need more great Sherlock fans.
But seriously, Elementary? Really?
Nawwww . . . . .
-- St. Augustine
Hate the sin and not the sinner.
-- Mohandas Gandhi
Don't hate the player, hate the game.
-- Ice T
In the comments following my most recent blog, the question was raised by frequent commenter James O'Reilly as to how I could be fully convincing in calling out those who judge others as "not serious Sherlockians," due to my ongoing insults toward viewers of that CBS TV phenomenon, Elementary.
Indeed, I have called them "wretched," "mindless," and a few other things. Earlier this week, I also intimated that the Mystery Writers of America were sad opium smokers who had fallen far from the Master Detective's pinnacle. But do I hate the fans of Elementary? Do I indeed see them as lesser beings, devoid of the divine spark that raised man from monkey? Do I spend my nights cursing the network gods that spawned such a generation of beings whose lemming-like ratings numbers keep Elementary on the air?
Nawwww . . . .
I just think they're wrong is all. So very, very wrong. My friend Bill Mason is waiting for the day and venue when we can debate that little issue in a public forum, as he actually likes the show. Would I question his Sherlockian mojo over one little lapse in good taste?
Nawwww . . . .
But let's be honest. Elementary is a very hate-able Sherlock Holmes related television show. How can I say that? Well, if you count the amount of blog material that I've gotten from loathing its very bones, that kinda speaks for itself. And you can't hate something that much without a little collateral damage. So, yes, I am sorry, lemming-zombie-monkeys, if you've felt like you've gotten hit with some of the watermelon spatter from this Gallagher act of blogging. I really don't hate any of you individually. And I don't think you're lesser Sherlockians or unable to fill out a healthy resume in the world of Sherlock Holmes fandom. I hope you do, if you haven't already. We need more great Sherlock fans.
But seriously, Elementary? Really?
Nawwww . . . . .
Serious Sherlockian bullshit.
"You know what's bullshit? Being told, because you're a young girl, that you can't be a 'serious Sherlockian.'"
This went out on Twitter, Tumblr, and, very soon after, Facebook from the Baker Street Babes today.
If you have yet to run into the "serious Sherlockian" bullshit, which you will if you are even partially actively pursuing the fandom of Holmes, let me tell you this: it's been there as long as I've been a Holmes fan, well over thirty years, and I'll bet it's been there from a long time before that.
What's more is that you'll find it in most fandoms of any duration. There were Classic Trekkies who disdained the Next Generation Noobs. There are Harley riders who pooh-pooh motorcyclists who prefer more modern manufacturers of bikes. There are even people in various kink communities who claim the younger generation just isn't doing it right. It doesn't matter what you're a fan of, there will always be some old fart (not necessarily chronological old) who wants to say you just don't measure up.
I suppose it's because a fandom becomes so much a part of a person's ego that some folks just feel endangered by new ideas, or anyone who does things a little different from the way they did it when they were first in the hobby. And there are always those who feel you aren't doing something right if you aren't doing it exactly the way they enjoyed it their first time. Lovers of strict ritual will always shoot down anything that goes against their routines.
Clubs with any kind of membership barrier are the worst incarnation of this "serious Sherlockian" phenomenon, and the most bitter pill you'll find in this hobby of ours -- an institutionalization of the "serious Sherlockian" concept, locking it in for all eternity for those who don't feel their rituals are strong enough to handle openness and inclusive behaviours.
Never been a fan of it. Never will be. We all like what we like. (Unless it's Elementary, and then we might like to dislike what we dislike.) And that should remain a personal preference, not a statement of Sherlockian classification.
Monday, January 21, 2013
Edgar back on the opium.
Yes, over a hundred and fifty years after his death, it appears that Edgar Allen Poe is smoking Victorian crack again.
Or at least his namesake is.
While being a whole-hearted student of the Master Detective, I must admit that the mystery genre as a whole is usually disappointing to me. When you start with the top of the field, which Sherlock Holmes definitely is, it's hard to be thrilled about lesser lights who stumble through mysteries with a little personality and colorful details alone. And that being the case, I've never gotten too excited about the Edgar Awards, a sort of mystery Oscars handed out by the Mystery Writers of America. Their field of self-congratulations is so small that the nominee list always holds some clunkers, just to fill out the field. But this year . . . oh, this year . . .
Edgar is back on the opium, to be sure.
All you have to do is look at their nominees for "Best Television Episode Teleplay." And the nominees are:
"Pilot" -- Longmire
"Slaughterhouse" -- Justified
"New Car Smell" -- Homeland
"A Scandal in Belgravia" -- Sherlock
"Child Predator" -- Elementary
Seriously, Edgar? You're going to put Elementary up against the likes of Homeland and Sherlock, two TV shows that actually got nominated for Emmys . . . you know, the REAL television awards done by people who actually know television? All for having one cheesey "the kid is the killer and not the pervy old guy" twist that wasn't hard to see coming?
But it's more than that. The Mystery Writers of America have fallen so far from the flagship character of their genre that they think Mr. Elementary, the Sherlock-In-Name-Only, deserves an award for his exercise in identity theft? That's just sad.
No, wait. The fact that major mystery novel series are based around cats or alphabet titles. That's sad. And it kind of explains how faux Sherlock got on that nominees list.
Read the Canon, folks. There's a reason it's the only mystery series called "the Canon."
And, Mystery Writers of America? I know you like Edgar Allen Poe, but stay off the drugs!
Or at least his namesake is.
While being a whole-hearted student of the Master Detective, I must admit that the mystery genre as a whole is usually disappointing to me. When you start with the top of the field, which Sherlock Holmes definitely is, it's hard to be thrilled about lesser lights who stumble through mysteries with a little personality and colorful details alone. And that being the case, I've never gotten too excited about the Edgar Awards, a sort of mystery Oscars handed out by the Mystery Writers of America. Their field of self-congratulations is so small that the nominee list always holds some clunkers, just to fill out the field. But this year . . . oh, this year . . .
Edgar is back on the opium, to be sure.
All you have to do is look at their nominees for "Best Television Episode Teleplay." And the nominees are:
"Pilot" -- Longmire
"Slaughterhouse" -- Justified
"New Car Smell" -- Homeland
"A Scandal in Belgravia" -- Sherlock
"Child Predator" -- Elementary
Seriously, Edgar? You're going to put Elementary up against the likes of Homeland and Sherlock, two TV shows that actually got nominated for Emmys . . . you know, the REAL television awards done by people who actually know television? All for having one cheesey "the kid is the killer and not the pervy old guy" twist that wasn't hard to see coming?
But it's more than that. The Mystery Writers of America have fallen so far from the flagship character of their genre that they think Mr. Elementary, the Sherlock-In-Name-Only, deserves an award for his exercise in identity theft? That's just sad.
No, wait. The fact that major mystery novel series are based around cats or alphabet titles. That's sad. And it kind of explains how faux Sherlock got on that nominees list.
Read the Canon, folks. There's a reason it's the only mystery series called "the Canon."
And, Mystery Writers of America? I know you like Edgar Allen Poe, but stay off the drugs!
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