Excitement, Minutiae, and Deadwood

I. shwoo!

II. I sat the other day and noticed that for the duration of the inhale, my heart rate increases slightly. I notice also that after recognizing the increase in rate, it is possible to bring awareness to the lack of balance and smooth the inconsistencies of the heart over both inhale and exhale.

Possible understanding for this most interesting phenomenon: the act of being creates a sensation of anxiety, excitement, anticipation, trepidation... while the act of expiration brings calm. A recommended course of action may be to find a little bit of death in life, a smattering of life in death, in order to encounter each new moment from solid ground with expansive perspective, emptied of fear.

III. Al Swearengen is a king, EB a coward, Bullock a principled hothead, and Saul an even Jew. Alma is beshrewed and Tricksy, an unyielding whore. Natural that the theater comes to town, we needed a jester to fill out the Shakesperean cast, especially given that the dullard got his skull kicked in. The monologues and asides, speaking to ghosts and heads, playing politics that spiral out of control into moral whirlwinds of catastrophic proportion... all grand theater. All curiously sustained in this televised medium, where violence and shock rush in to fill the empathetic gap left in the absence of kinesthetics and physical immediacy. Oh, inverted clauses! We are stimulated despite ourselves. The trickling of language, crystal-clear and refined, sprayed over the dirtiest of man-making, world-building settings.