It is no secret that the attribute I most admired in people was their wits. When I was young I loved all the detective stories, where through wits, perception and deduction, the improbable became probable. I therefore spent a chunk of my youth wanting to be a detective.
In recent years, my brain has been better tuned, and I pride myself on understanding social situations and people far better than I used to. However, when it comes to my own self, these observations can be damned, I just turn a blind eye to them.
(Why would I turn a blind eye? It is blind. What difference would it make if it is turned this or that way?)
To the point!
The BBC success series SHERLOCK, is amazing. The fourth episode of the series of one and a half long hours episodes, "A scandal in Belgravia", was recently broadcast. In honor to the brilliance of Sherlock I will present one of my own little investigations.
A Nail in Red!
It was a cold day before Christmas, when luck, destiny, fate or happenstance brought me at the metro station of Agios Dimitrios. I was to meet up with a-not-so-old friend of mine.
The station was packed, and I was about to resume reading a book on my android, when a female voice called my name. Now this does not happen quite often when you come back as a stranger from exile. Yet there she was. Marianthi. The girl I had obsessed over during high-school.
After some pleasantries we boarded the metro, along with her brother and his girlfriend. From the fact we were speaking with her in English, I knew she was foreign. From the fact that they said they had met in Denmark, where Thanos had been studying, I knew they had met in Denmark, where Thanos had been studying. Bolstered by the reminiscence of my obligation to try and impress the girl I used to fancy, I went into deep thought mode, scanning my interlocutors for clues to use. I was being Sherlock. The nails. I saw the nails in red. But they were not of a pure red color. Her digitus annularis, or fourth finger, of the left hand featured a painted blue cross with thinner lines protruding diagonally. I recalled from my studies of geography and Vexillology that that was the flag of the United Kingdom of Great Britan (and Northen Ireland). I proceeded to present my deductions...
Yeah. I almost had a Sherlock moment.
In recent years, my brain has been better tuned, and I pride myself on understanding social situations and people far better than I used to. However, when it comes to my own self, these observations can be damned, I just turn a blind eye to them.
(Why would I turn a blind eye? It is blind. What difference would it make if it is turned this or that way?)
To the point!
The BBC success series SHERLOCK, is amazing. The fourth episode of the series of one and a half long hours episodes, "A scandal in Belgravia", was recently broadcast. In honor to the brilliance of Sherlock I will present one of my own little investigations.
A Nail in Red!
It was a cold day before Christmas, when luck, destiny, fate or happenstance brought me at the metro station of Agios Dimitrios. I was to meet up with a-not-so-old friend of mine.
The station was packed, and I was about to resume reading a book on my android, when a female voice called my name. Now this does not happen quite often when you come back as a stranger from exile. Yet there she was. Marianthi. The girl I had obsessed over during high-school.
After some pleasantries we boarded the metro, along with her brother and his girlfriend. From the fact we were speaking with her in English, I knew she was foreign. From the fact that they said they had met in Denmark, where Thanos had been studying, I knew they had met in Denmark, where Thanos had been studying. Bolstered by the reminiscence of my obligation to try and impress the girl I used to fancy, I went into deep thought mode, scanning my interlocutors for clues to use. I was being Sherlock. The nails. I saw the nails in red. But they were not of a pure red color. Her digitus annularis, or fourth finger, of the left hand featured a painted blue cross with thinner lines protruding diagonally. I recalled from my studies of geography and Vexillology that that was the flag of the United Kingdom of Great Britan (and Northen Ireland). I proceeded to present my deductions...
It turned out that the nail looked more like this:
Yeah. I almost had a Sherlock moment.
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