Postscript to the previous post ...
Yes! Nailed it!
"And so slowness is
interesting and the dust, in cracks between
... Fluff, grit, various
discarded bits & pieces: these are the
genetic patrons of our so-called condition."
Not dialogue from Sherlock ("dust is eloquent" said with characteristic scorn to an over zealous Mrs Hudson) but lines from 'A Gold Ring Called Reluctance'.
It's been nagging me what Sherlock keeps reminding me of & the penny finally dropped - that oh so terribly English intellectual archness & superiority that is so at home in places such as Cambridge (Oxford, too). It's High Table talk, Cumberbatch like that disturbingly young & charismatic tutor who makes you (the little what's up fresher Watson) feel so terribly callow & uncouth. & there's more than a little frisson of buggery & gentleman's club privilege about it all (with espionage in the wings). For God's sake ... shut up & pass the port.
J.H. Prynne as Mycroft, then? That shadowy brother, Guardian of the Logos, the Keys To? Or has Iain Sinclair got there first?