No, wait. We have one last matter to attend to here, and that is the discussion of "Deadwood" itself (Sundays at 9 p.m. EDT on HBO). Despite Al Swearengen's assertions to the contrary, things don't always sort out fast in Deadwood. However, as the pace slows, it affords a more thorough study of the town as a living organism, a metaphor that creator David Milch charitably offered us previously. Viewing the town through such a lens, each ripple caused by Wolcott (George Hearst's henchman) or the Lawrence County commissioner sets into motion a chain of reactions by those who'd like to keep control of the town out of the hands of greedy outsiders. The pleasure of "Deadwood" lies in witnessing a vast array of responses from the denizens: Cy Tolliver schemes and wangles and then overplays his hand, Joanie Stubbs casts a blind eye and pays the consequences, and Swearengen coaxes, seethes, plays all sides, and ultimately enlists the still-suspicious Bullock to further his cause. Taken as individuals, not much is happening in Deadwood; taken as a whole, enormous changes are afoot, and the citizenry is shifting and maneuvering and triangulating in order to limit the damage to their personal affairs. Or, as E.B. so nicely put it, "One hopes for the best. One perseveres. One reevaluates constantly. One is an asshole if one doesn't."

Even the simplest exchange can belie a strategic realignment, signal a power play, or just give way to a groundswell of unspoken resentment. When Martha Bullock pays a visit to Alma, her husband's ex-lover, the tension is palpable, yet the two seem determined to proceed as if there were no bad blood between them -- that is, until Alma, feeling like the ineffectual, pampered aristocrat that she is, stammers that tea would be more easily fetched for Martha if she were properly prepared.

Alma: On a second opportunity with adequate notification, we will meet you in order and readiness.

Martha: I seem always to come upon you with inadequate notice.

Alma: As you remarked, simple courtesy would forestall that.

Martha: I'm trying to imagine what courtesy of mine would have forestalled the last awkwardness between us.

Oooh, snap! And the like! Martha is referring, of course, to rolling into town only to find her husband pickling his prick in the cunt brine of another. Thus rebuked, Alma soon regretted playing the class card and the damn-you-for-being-my-lover's-wife card, and our sympathies shifted ever so fucking slightly closer to Martha, despite her having interrupted some seriously provocative prick pickling.

And indeed, the shifting of sympathies never ends in Deadwood, what with Swearengen passing swiftly from violent demon to pitiable dying man to charismatic schemer all in a matter of weeks. Meanwhile, Trixie, that loopy cunt, has progressed from bloodied victim to overachiever, bettering herself at the hardware store while keeping a finger in Swearengen's pie and most graciously looking out for Alma. In truth, the amiable in Deadwood outnumber the repugnant by a cunt hair or two, what with Ellsworth and Charlie Utter and Doc and Trixie and even Jane all giving of themselves for the sake of those under duress or out of their depth.

All in all, the charms of "Deadwood" are impossible to describe to those who haven't abandoned themselves to this daring and delightfully odd narrative. Those that doubt me suck cock by choice!

Concluding remarks and the like
That's all for today, you conniving, heavy-thumbed motherfuckers. I may be quite an object lesson in the career-advancing powers of obstinacy and a hostile disposition, but my sensibilities do not need coddling. "Advance the subject or pick up a broom" is my motto, and I hope to avoid picking up a broom indefinitely. Still, I know when to pocket my notebook. Whatever lurks ahead, grievous abominations and disorder, you and me walk into it together as always.

I'm off, you're on. Go fuck yourself!

Next week: I said go fuck yourself! Why do you linger? The stages are frequent, and you're past your stated purpose.

Recent Stories