When you’ve eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable is the truth.
In lieu of my longingness of the third season of BBC’s Sherlock, I watched the two preceding, brilliant seasons. A man as critical and intriguing as Sherlock Holmes is one so famous we hardly ever know why. Yet I guess, it speaks of our humanity. We love and worship Holmes because he’s a drug addict, friendless, lonely and imperfect. We know of his brilliance but what struck us the most is his flaws, that for such a genius, the most primal emotions is inaccessible to him. When Sherlock praised Watson, he used the same words John praised him with. It shows us that though smart, one must learn things.
Life is elementary, my dear Watson. (and no Sherlock never said that, I’ve never read that once) Life is a train ride that randomly drops you off at unknown stations. Life makes you incapable of things, of silly things that other grew up doing. But life, life will give you a man to cry for you when you die.