Because he is fucking amazing and he deserves to know how great we think he is
So here’s the plan: you guys, write letters. Handwrite them, type them, record yourself reading them, whatever. Include anything you want- drawings, photos, covers of his (solo) songs, or just the letter.
Send digital submissions to me at email@example.com, send physical submissions to me at the following addres:
Devin Magee 525 S. State Street, unit #1816D Chicago, IL 60605
I will print out the digital submissions and bind them into a book with the physical submissions. I’ll burn the videos to disk and include the disk(s) in the book. And then I will personally ensure the book gets to Patrick.
I’m going to set a tentative deadline for April 10. That should give you guys plenty of time to get your thoughts down.
PLEASE reblog this, guys.
…I am not sorry for the spam of Patrick Stump love. He deserves every bit of it. I am totally doing this.
And no, this isn’t hatred, nor is this BBC-Sherlock-is-superior babbling. Up until now I’ve been willing to give it a chance, and when it does air, I’m still going to give it one last shot to impress me with its first episode. But I now know that unless they pull off some crazy switcheroo, I’m going to be disappointed. (I’m not even going to mention the NYC setting, either.)
I do like Lucy Liu playing such a fantastic character, don’t get me wrong. But there are only two ways this can go now and neither of them are remotely palatable.
If CBS chooses to have a romance develop between Sherlock Holmes and Joan Watson (or whatever her name is), then their goal is fairly clear: let’s make the Holmes/Watson relationship more palatable to audiences by making it heterosexual.
Do they even realize how erasing that is? Now, if you swapped both Sherlock and John’s sexes, maybe then it’d be bearable. Quasi-lesbian detective and doctor/medical/cop whatever in NYC? I could deal. That’d be fairly cool. But to change one character, and only one character, means you’re doing the single-gender for one of only two reasons:
Either you’re intending to build a relationship, or you’re throwing in a beautiful woman to attract the male viewers. Normally, these motives are fine, but when you’re dealing with characters who are both already known to the viewers and are consistently noted for their unique relationship as two male characters, even in Victorian London? No. Neither is acceptable, even remotely. To do so insults the memory and bond between those characters. Where we once had an incredibly close pair of men, so close that reading between the lines of Dr. Watson’s prose might suggest a relationship carried out behind the scenes, we now have your typical woman falling for a very smart man. Whoop. De. Doo.
But maybe you’re gonna make John Watson a trans man and emphasize that it’s a queer relationship despite his perceived gend - oh wait, that would be one of those things that only happens in my fantasy worlds; my apologies.
If you go the platonic route, then yes, you avoid my queer-erasing rage. No gay-ignoring for you! Good job!
But the problem is, then you probably still won’t hit upon the relationship between Holmes and Watson. Whatever else can be said about their relationship, romantic in the very much gay sense or not, they do have a deep, profound love for each other. To deny that would be very wrong.
In our society, on our televisions, those bonds don’t exist. We’d like them to, maybe, but they don’t. Males and females can’t have that deep a bond without being romantic, television tells us. So if you come even close to the reality of Watson and Holmes’ bond, it’s still going to be perceived as romantic despite platonic intentions, and we loop around to the first problem all over.
The only other option is to deeply tone down their partnership in the midst of the show, and suddenly what you’ve got is no longer that fascinating show about two intensely interesting characters and the mysteries they solve. It’s just another cops and robbers type show, one in a million, and in no way identifiable with the timeless beauty of ACD’s tales.
And either way:
Additionally, making Watson the female character has some potentially painful sexist implications. Watson is generally - and in my mind, falsely - attributed as the “sidekick” character to Holmes. He is a doctor and a soldier at once.
(I read somewhere that she’s going to be a former NYPD medical examiner? Could play either way, but I’m inclined to give it a thumbs-down. Watson is a man who takes orders and gets shot for it, not a woman who failed on the job once and got kicked out. Um. But I don’t have the source for this, I lost it somewhere, so if somebody could confirm that’d be great.)
EDIT: She’s a “former surgeon who lost her license after a patient died.” [x] Again - major difference between GETTING SHOT and MESSING UP, and assigning those differences to a man and a woman respectively, um.
So, somebody decided somewhere that between the risk-taking, caustic, determined detective and the kind-hearted, steadfast, background character doctor, that the female role should go to the latter. Really? If they make her character powerful and solid enough, there’s a chance that it could fly, but it’s unlikely. Gender stereotyping has itself stamped all over this.
If they’re very clever, they’ll make Joan Watson the main character of the show rather than Holmes - that’ll put a kick in the expectations, while remaining true to ACD, won’t it just? But I highly doubt it. And that’s sad.
Congrats on the multiracial casting, CBS, but negative points just about everywhere else.
So, is that what you call a getaway? Tell me what you got away with. Cause I’ve seen more spine in jellyfish. I’ve seen more guts in eleven-year-old kids. Have another drink and drive yourself home. I hope there’s ice on all the roads. And you can think of me when you forget your seatbelt, and again when your head goes through the windshield.
And is that what you call tact? You’re as subtle as a brick in the small of my back. So let’s end this call, and end this conversation. And is that what you call a getaway? Well tell me what you got away with. Cause you left the frays from the ties you severed when you say “best friends means friends forever.”
“There’s been an accident,” the policeman says as you push through the door to take a look at it, and it’s grisly and gory like a B movie and you know the driver’s face.
It’s the letdown after the supposed end when no one has died and the lights come in, and you’re on the floor cause you can’t get up. It’s hell. It’s hell. It’s hell.
You can’t tell a soul what you see in your head. Or bring on the chaos, bring on the chaos. You can’t tell a soul what you see in your head. Just scream, scream, scream.
So you dance in the dark like you know the beat and the dust starts to scatter underneath your feet. And it’s bones on the floor but no one seems to care. They don’t notice you leave.
A boy grabs your hand and asks if you’re okay. You’ve got blood in your mouth all choked back to say that you’re perfectly fine, and he says you lie. You stand right up and go.
You can’t tell a soul what you see in your head, erratic and crazy, erratic and crazy. You can’t tell a soul what you see in your head. You can’t ever, ever speak.
Reblogging my poetry blog because I still love this piece, I want everyone to see it because I’m actually really proud of it, and it’s a prime example of taking your worst experiences and creating something sort of beautiful.