another deadwood marathon has come to an end. approximately 20 minutes per night since october. i think this was the 9th time that i've watched series and i can confidently say that it won't be the last. it usually starts the same way with me thinking, do i really want to watch this again? then i briefly become unstuck in time and the gorgeous montana wildhack whispers in my ear that it has already happened and that i have no say in the matter. who am i to tinker with the space time continuum?
but on the other hand that rascal kilgore trout is always whispering in my ear; "you were sick, but now you're well again, and there's work to do." of course kilgore is and was speaking of freewill. which begs the question, do any of us truly have freewill, or are we hardwired to propagate the species? maybe homosexuals are the only people with freewill.
for the first few seasons my favorite character was e.b. farnum, then it was jane cannery for a few years and this year i was entranced by jack langrishe. i would almost start laughing before jack began one of his soliloquies.
but rather than including a clip of jack langrishe waxing poetic, i chose a clip of my own death to pacify all those sensitive people in the cyber world whom i offended by offering my candid opinion of david bowie. i for one, saw through the emperors new clothes and was able to asses his talents on their own merits. so if you are a true fan of david bowie, sit back and enjoy my death. if you were not a true fan of david bowie, weep for me.
exchange forgiveness with me, noble bowie:
mine and my father’s death come not upon thee,
nor thine on me.
now sit back and prepare to WEEP FOR THE PILGRIM
i apologize to those of you who were brought to tears and i forgive those bowie fans who applauded my death.
so it goes.