At the beginning of the episode, we are shown that Sherlock is very much glued to his phone, and in my opinion, a bit more than usual. Yes, he has always been very fond of using his phone, but I feel like they made a big deal at the beginning of the episode about Sherlock being on his phone. (ie now he as a twitter, texting behind his back during the baptism, etc) These can just be brushed off as very “Sherlock” behavior, but I think these scenes are more important than we are making them out to be. (Will come back to this in a moment) More under the cut as this may get a bit lengthy.
Say what you want about Scarecrow’s New52 origin story, but you can’t deny that this scene was absolutely heart wrenching. This little girl befriends Scarecrow, despite all of the experiments he had done on her up to that point… and he doesn’t know how to cope with that kind of compassion.
All comics posted are scanned by myself at 300dpi or higher
I just realized that Amethyst is not only incredibly happy about meeting other Amethysts but other Amethysts and other Gems FROM EARTH and they are all similar in attitude like her.
the only gems she has known in her life has been Pearl (Homeworld and studious), Garnet (Homeworld and stoic) and Rose Quartz (Homeworld/Earth [?] and loving but secretive) and so she feels in the dark most of the time when Garnet and Pearl talk about Homeworld stuff, like there’s a secret language that she (Amethyst) is unable to learn. Then enter her Famethyst and her life just lit up and suddenly she wasn’t alone anymore.
Listen to Amethyst’s lines in the song “On the Run” (her feelings about the Kindergarten is also very important)
and then rewatch the Famethyst scene in the episode “That Will Be All”
This actually did happen to a real person, and the real person was me. I had gone to catch a train. This was April 1976, in Cambridge, U.K. I was a bit early for the train. I’d gotten the time of the train wrong. I went to get myself a newspaper to do the crossword, and a cup of coffee and a packet of cookies. I went and sat at a table.
I want you to picture the scene. It’s very important that you get this very clear in your mind. Here’s the table, newspaper, cup of coffee, packet of cookies. There’s a guy sitting opposite me, perfectly ordinary-looking guy wearing a business suit, carrying a briefcase. It didn’t look like he was going to do anything weird. What he did was this: he suddenly leaned across, picked up the packet of cookies, tore it open, took one out, and ate it.
Now this, I have to say, is the sort of thing the British are very bad at dealing with. There’s nothing in our background, upbringing, or education that teaches you how to deal with someone who in broad daylight has just stolen your cookies.
You know what would happen if this had been South Central Los Angeles. There would have very quickly been gunfire, helicopters coming in, CNN, you know… But in the end, I did what any red-blooded Englishman would do: I ignored it. And I stared at the newspaper, took a sip of coffee, tried to do a clue in the newspaper, couldn’t do anything, and thought, what am I going to do?
In the end I thought, Nothing for it, I’ll just have to go for it, and I tried very hard not to notice the fact that the packet was already mysteriously opened. I took out a cookie for myself. I thought, That settled him. But it hadn’t because a moment or two later he did it again. He took another cookie. Having not mentioned it the first time, it was somehow even harder to raise the subject the second time around. “Excuse me, I couldn’t help but notice …” I mean, it doesn’t really work.
We went through the whole packet like this. When I say the whole packet, I mean there were only about eight cookies, but it felt like a lifetime. He took one, I took one, he took one, I took one. Finally, when we got to the end, he stood up and walked away. Well, we exchanged meaningful looks, then he walked away, and I breathed a sigh of relief and sat back.
A moment or two later the train was coming in, so I tossed back the rest of my coffee, stood up, picked up the newspaper, and underneath the newspaper were my cookies.
The thing I like particularly about this story is the sensation that somewhere in England there has been wandering around for the last quarter-century a perfectly ordinary guy who’s had the same exact story, only he doesn’t have the punch line.
Douglas Adams, well known for writing The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy shares a very British story