The first episode of the new series of BBC’s Sherlock is the greatest thing I’ve ever seen. I suppose that’s hyperbole, but I keep finding reasons to stop it and take a break because I’m completely overwhelmed by how excellent it is and I don’t want it to end. The sly takes on the source material are great, the way Moffat adapts the source material and twists it is great (“THE Woman”), the modern text-y laptop-y thing in lieu of the gaslight-y horse-y drawn-y carriage-y thing… Oh SWOON. Strange how taking Holmes OUT of the quaint cliches of his era ended up being the most fitting rendering of him thus far. Taking his singular character and plunking him down with us in our information age, stripping away the Victorian trappings and letting loose the genius in a post-Twitter world so that the intellect outshines the costumes OH HOORAY. I’ve got 30 minutes to go on this episode. I haven’t even finished it yet. Excuse me, but I was so full of quivering paroxysms that I had to tell SOMEONE. I’m marginally tipsy, having the time of my life watching A Scandal in Belgravia and I’m in love love LOVE with Sherlock Holmes.