what’s frustrating.  all right, so I’m going to attempt to be a
bit more articulate now that it’s morning afternoon (I really
need to do something about my sleep habits).  This is about
Sherlock.  I’ve tried twice now to start and stop explaining why
I get so bothered by things that Mssr. Moffat has occasionally
said. Both attempts have degenerated into very long, rambling
paragraphs about learning what a lesbian was in sixth grade
through playground jeers, about awkward forced coming-out-
stories that should never have been necessary, about my mother
blaming Xena for my sexuality and once telling me Benedict
Cumberbatch would probably not be interested in me anyway
because I was bisexual.  All of that is getting a bit distracted
from the point, and yet not.  Within the construct of the
Sherlock universe, Sherlock’s sexuality is a non-issue. Isn’t
that wonderful, Mssrs. Moffat and Gatiss have said, that people
look at two blokes living together nowadays and think that
they’re gay, isn’t it great that we’ve com