Holmes clapped his hands together. “Now, Professor, I think you’d better tell us what prompted you to perform your ‘dashed silly prank.’” Holmes smiled genially, but his dark eyes glittered. “I shouldn’t think such actions fall within the purview of the Patent Office.”
“Indeed not.” Moriarty scratched a spot behind his ear, feeling like a schoolboy caught stealing answers to exams. “The truth is there’s been a sort of sophomoric rivalry between myself and Lord Nettlefield, going back a few years. It started with a paper I gave at the Royal Society concerning the dynamics of an asteroid, an interesting mathematical problem I’d been tinkering with. During the discussion afterward, I made some sharpish remarks about amateur scientists, with reference to a pamphlet put out by his lordship. He took offense and did me a similar disservice in return later on. When I realized the spherical engine advertised in the Exhibition catalog lacked the proper complement of indicators, I saw an opportunity to supply a small corrective. I meant no harm to any person or thing other than his lordship’s self-regard.”
Holmes asked, “At what time did you perform your act of sabotage?”
Moriarty frowned at the harsh term. “I entered the Exhibition Galleries at about eight thirty. I had the indicator and tools in my coat pockets. It took me about twenty minutes to attach the device, after which, I left.”
“How did you gain entrance at that hour?” Holmes asked.
“I told the guard I was from the Patent Office.” Moriarty chuckled. “It’s extraordinary how effective that is. I signed a false name in the book.”
“Yes,” Holmes said, not sharing his amusement. “I recognized the handwriting, when I revisited the logbook. I had pages of your notes to acquaint me with your style.”
“You have a remarkable eye for detail,” Moriarty said. “I’m impressed.”
Holmes accepted the accolade with a slow blink, like a cat.
Moriarty Meets His Match by Anna Castle
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EXPOSITION | Pastiches de presse ➽ https://bit.ly/Exposition-Pastiches-Presse La BnF consacre une exposition aux détournements comiques de journaux qui réunit pour la première fois une large sélection de pastiches et parodies de presse écrite. Peu étudiée, cette pratique aujourd’hui très présente sur le web est régulière et ininterrompue depuis près de deux siècles
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Who wants to read some Sherlock Holmes self insert fanfic written by a 7th grader in 1903?
She even won an honorable mention for it!
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I'm writing a paper on Goncharov right now and I can sooth your nerves that the difference between Gonch and whatever's happening on tiktok is not the fake media. Fake media and fake people and fake history will always and has always existed. Neither is the collective storytelling.
The difference is that we made Goncharov real by imitating a fandom for it. Like yes mass hallucinating a movie was fun and an incredible feat of collective creativity. But the *way* we created Goncharov is what will always make it special.
We, as a website, spontaneously created a perfect pastiche of fandom, one that was so identical to any other fandom behaviour it made the movie seem real.
As I quote thetwistyoucantresist in my paper, “maybe the real Goncharov was the Fandom we made along the way”.
Goncharov isnt the fake movie its the fake fandom, that's what special and unique and one of a kind
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Inadvisable tabletop RPG premise #137: Fantasy setting where wizard towers have approximately the same role and cultural significance as Cold War nuclear missile silos. It’s impossible to really hide the fact that you’re casting a high-level spell, and extremely difficult to defend against one, so all of the world’s greatest wizards are locked in a mutually assured destruction scenario; the moment any one of them tries to perform a world-shaping act of magic, all of the other great wizards will smell it and immediately respond by casting Fuck That Guy In Particular.
The setting otherwise superficially resembles a perfectly standard Generic Fantasy Setting, though any close examination will rapidly reveal how deeply its culture is informed by the looming knowledge that the world is perpetually one wizardly temper tantrum away from total annihilation, and the extent to which the conspicuous Generic Fantasy atmosphere is a deliberately constructed facade of business-as-usual over a howling void of nihilistic uncertainty.
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Why do I have to spend time working a job when I should be spending time jerking my nob
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White Chappell, Scarlet Tracings by Iain Sinclair
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From Sheerluck Jones, or Why D'Gillette Him Off, a 1901 parody of Gillette's Sherlock Holmes - Source
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*opens a sherlock holmes pastiche*
the pastiche: the death of my friend, sherlock holmes...
*closes the pastiche and locks it in the deepest darkest corner of my attic to rot for all eternity forever and ever*
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LOVE the millennial bertie (and mx. bobbie wickham) adventures! this is probably a long shot but would you ever write millennial psmith??
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