"Have You Got Good Religion?"

Dog was looking for some no-account scofflaw and as usual he arrived too late to deal with anybody but the usual: some bumbling, halfwit, crooked uncle or father or stepfather or "gramps" (or "a sort of family friend"). The uncle (father) (gramps), naturally, swore that he didn't know where his nephew (or son) (or grandson) was. Dog respectfully called him a liar to his face and blustered deeper into the building. He hollered imperiously those immortal words, "Leland–– check the crawlspaces and under the bed."

By the way, these meth addicts always keep such messy places. You'd think they had no gumption! They should do a show about it. "Flip This Crack Den."

So Nuncy Grampy was playing his apportioned role (i.e., "too stupid to dissemble") ("too stupid even to fool Dog"), and he said, "I swear I don't know where he is. We don't even talk. Bring me a Bible and I'll swear on it."
Dog turned quickly and retorted tartly, "A meaningless remark! Who here can vouch for your good ties with your diocese? Who here can speak for your personal commitment to the Shavvat? Who shall attest to thy Christianly reception of Election and Grace? Who among ye can tell me if ye bathed in the blood of the Lamb? Have you got good religion?"
He then began to croon "Dem Golden Slippers."

No, none of that happened. The man made the remark about the Bible but Dog didn't even bother to respond.

They found the nephew/grandson/son in due course. I'd like to say they did so by canny sleuthmanship and excellent deduction but would you even believe me if I did?

Perp he had a fat estranged wife (of course) and while she sat blubbing to Dog and Beth hubbins was in the building next door frolicking and doing heroin with some nubile young drug addict a quarter his age. Strange how people live. He had his wife in the palm of his hand! He had his cake and he ate it too! I looked at this drug addict in his crack den with naked envy. As Joe Fagin sagely says, "That's Living Alright!"

When Dog burst into his secret crack-den love-nest, the guy was swooning on his feet. Half-dead on his feet he was withal full of junkie bravado. He rolled his eyes and bragged to Dog, "If you hadn't of surprised me like that I was gonna commit suicide by cop!"

Dog gave that all the credibility it deserved. He said, "I'd been knocking on your door for half an hour you nincompoop."

No –– he didn't. But she should of.

He should of said, "Suicide by cop? Brah, you ain't suicidal and I sure ain't no cop!"

I really ought to write some scripts out for this show. It'd be much better if I did.

Just a suggestion to the good people at Country Music Television.

At the end they had the usual Asterix-like banquet scene where they all dress up with the local bounty-hunter dynasties and they go to  Denny's or a Red Lobster or an Olive Garden and they prate platitudes at each other. Cacofonix in a corner tied up. This time somebody remarked plaintively, "What are our grandchildren's future?"

Never mind the essence and substance of the question, I stared at the TV for a few minutes trying to parse the sentence, see if it could conceivably have made sense.

Never mind I missed the answer to the riddle: that our grandchildrens' future "are" bounty-hunting.

This conclusion was almost as chilling as that episode of Parking Wars where the guy who tows illegally parked cars away in his truck went to his infant son's kindergarten and weirdly talked to his pre-school son through the wire fence. At the end of it he turned with a gruesome leer and said to the cameraman, "When he grows up he's gonna be like his old Dad –– a tow-truck car-remover!"

The child visibly blanched.

"The New Dog (and Pony) Show." Or, "Dogz is Not a Put-On."

Beth and Dog have a new show on the Country Music channel, called Dog and Beth On The Hunt. That's inspired. I only wonder why they didn't call it Dog and Beth Are Bounty Hunters Who Are Married to Each Other and This Is Their Programme in Which They Chase Petty Criminals.

It is sandwiched between episodes of a show called Guntucky. 

I used to say to my wife, "If you ever come in the apartment and I am sitting watching an episode of Psychic Kids, you are hereby granted absolute license to kill me roughly." Seasons passed and I updated this joke to include Sand Masters when that fine show blew onto our screens like a scirocco through the Gobi.

I now say, "If you ever come into the apartment and I am watching Guntucky, please kill me with violent prejudice."

In the "wake of Newtown," I wonder if the Country Music channel will come up with a spin-off called Gunnecticut. It seems like about as good an idea frankly.

Idea for a reality show on the Country Music channel: Kill Your Teacher (Praise Your Preacher) (Sing the Family Hymnal). 

The new Dog show, to return happily to my familiar subject, is rendered conspicuous by the absences of Duane Lee and Baby Lisa, both of whom strayed far from the reservation at the end of the old A&E season. Also Bobby Brown "peeled off" and went wildly AWOL and sued Dog and Beth and A&E. This was off-camera. There's a confusing testimony by him on Youtube though if you're at all interested by this. They should do a reality show about that reality show so we can find out what's actually going on. The Chapman clan do love their Bible-family circle-jerks, their praise-Chrast ring-a-round-a-Rosies, but these people clearly despise each other "off-camera."

That said, I was quite surprised that the spat with Duane Lee was genuine. I had been convinced it was a put-on, a narrative "arc" inserted artificially to drum up some viewership, to try and get some Ryan Seacrest Kardashian points. Apparently it wasn't.

Leland is still on the show, but it's like he's been lobotomized.
(In the voice of GARRY SHANDLING:) Yes, I know what you're saying: "Could you ever even tell if Leland Chapman had been lobotomized?"

This incarnation of the Dog and Beth traveling circus and farmer's museum has the vapid illusion of serving some didactic, pedagogic purpose. They are ostensibly going from state to state advising ailing bailbondsmen on how to pep up their lifestyles and also redeem themselves in the blood of the Lamb. They offer sagacious nuggets of brilliance, like: "You need pepper spray cause what you gonna do if your mace and your tazer fail you?"

Leland said that. He also advised the wearing of gloves because, "You don't want somebody's tooth embedded in your knuckle when you go to punch them in the face."
They went out on a shooting range and Leland basically told them to point their guns at the targets and pull the trigger. "That's correct. Very good."

The sadness and loss felt by Leland was palpable. He told the two trainee bounty-hunter troglodytes, "You go round the back."

The back, the going round of it, that was Duane Lee's old spot, his old routine, and you could see in Leland's sad, wounded eyes the personal pain of losing his brother. He chose the Yankee dollar over loyalty to his brotherman.

He tediously explained the philosophy of sending the man round the back of the house thusly: "We wanna surround the house. So: this is the house..." [Here he traced with his finger a square shape. Then, pointing to the sides of the square...] "We go there, there, there."   

Beth was teaching the new generation of dumb fucking working stiffs too. She said to the stereotypical white-trash/trailer-park glam-rock/cyber-gonk secretary, "You got the bounty-hunter spread-sheet?"
"Nope."
"Gotta get it sistah. Gotta get that spreadsheet brah."

Another time to protractedly demonstrate their resourcefulness they had an interface with a fat bearded guy in spectacles over their computer and he looked up a name and address from his computer database. The trainee bounty-hunters looked on in awe, like the first cavemen to behold a fist hatchet, and Beth simpered smugly and said, "You too can be an ace sleuth like us if you sign up to this guy's list."

The idea is like "Chef Ramsay" coming to a restaurant and pillaging the staff, finding gunk in the freezer and acting like it's still shocking to his superior sensibility. Then the coming up with fatuous solutions.

It's good to see then that the old repartee is still there:

BETH: I'm gonna slap yer.
DOG: Whatever.
BETH: Duane I like. Dog me no likey.

All the old hits, they're back, lovingly revisited for a new "new country" audience.

Incidentally, is the Country Music channel known to be a shit-kicker glue-sniffer redneck ultra-rightist channel? I'm only asking because the tone of this first episode was not in the past tradition of eggshell-walking and fence-building, like when Dog would daub on face-paints to protest the many sufferings of the gay/lesbian/bi/curious/transvestite/transexual community, or when he gingerly went among the African-Americans and blunderingly, urgently attempted to make social reparations for his past gaffes.

In this episode they went fiercely and unrelentingly after the Native Americans with some considerable savagery. I didn't know if I was watching Dog or Hell On Wheels. Is it okay to go after the red man? You naturally wonder if their old A&E editors silently, and wisely, edited out all the awkward and costly Prince Philip-style political blunders the Chapmans made, while the new editors are such corn-pone neo-Nazis they don't bother about it.

Dog's mind seems to be drifting. Never mind that his skin is bright red and his hair bright yellow. I shall say nothing of that except he looks like a traffic light without the green lamp. His mind is almost visibly dwindling, almost as deleteriously as his golden ("bright yellow") locks of hair. Several times he'd be knocking on the door of the perp, gun in hand, banging and hollering and then he'd turn and say, "What's his name again?"
("Who am I? Where am I?")

He was at the door, rocket launcher in hand (I should note that this gigantic Rob Liefeld-esque bazooka only pumps out hot air as far as I'm aware– that or wiffle balls) and a four-year-old child answered the door. Dog bellowed at the child, "Where's MAURICE, you black-skinned crook?"

The perp's actual name was "Marquise Cooper," but Dog would insist on calling him Maurice. "Come out bruddah. Come on Cooper. Come on Maurice."

Later there was a trainee working stiff called LUMUMBA (he actually solved the crime single-handed despite the Chapmans' "help") and Dog insisted on calling him "LUBUMBA" which became "La Bamba."

They were sent to another address and then doubled back to where they were and Dog got confused and hare-brained ("hair-brained") again. "Can you see the house we were just at, Leland?"
("Where am I? Who am I?")

They caught "Maurice" and he wept on Dog's breast and Dog cradled his head and kissed him tenderly above his ear.
"What did  I do, sir?"
"You failed to appear in court."
"NO! IT CAN'T BE TRUE!"
Not having been on television before, Maurice was hellbent on chewing up the scenery with a "bravura debut." His seemed to be a hysterical over-reaction to the bald fact and Dog, always professional, coolly parried it:
"Don't get crazy son. You just missed your court date."

Soon the perp was on the back seat, becalmed and kittenish and on the phone to his fat trash ex-girlfriend. Still chewing scenery but focussed now. When she picked up the phone the camera was there,  and she wanted to be seen on-camera to be taking the initiative and so she shot in first, "I'm done with y'all." Because "Maurice" was on the backseat of Dog and Beth's SUV, he of course was more interested in peaceable solutions and so he crooned some blues about loving her and Chrast and family and flag and the great state of Guntucky too.

They went after another perp on the same show. Quite honestly at any moment I wasn't sure who they were after or why. But they were talking about the aunt of a perp and Dog said, "She's straight, the Auntie?"
His trainee stuffed-shirt goes, "Straightish."
Nice definition of the people on this show.

For this new perp, Dog got all sneaky. He noted, "He's very fast, he's smart, very paranoid so to get close enough to capture him without him noticing us first is going to be the difficult."
So what they did was they all piled into Dog's gigantic black tourbus with his name and a blow-up of his badge on the front, and they "snuck up" on him in that.

Dog refers to the senior bailbondsman, the scatterbrained honcho they're there to assist, as "The Old Man," 'cause he's all red in the face and can't remember shit by now.

These bumbling amateur bounty-hunters they are assisting have to provide on-camera testimonials about how Dog, Beth and Leland are all helping them in finding crime-solving solutions to knotty problems. It's exposition, it's propaganda, it's boring viewing.

I query the point of this episode. So these stiffs had to call in Dog and Beth for this "knotty konundrum"? All they did was ask the perp's "Auntie" and then his fat ex-girlfriend and they sang like canaries and gave him up trussed up like a Christmas goose. Come to that, the guy was driving up and down the one strip in town in a bright red truck with a pair of silver bollocks affixed to the back bumper! Hardly a case for Holmes!

Then again, "The Old Man" (one HANK BAYLESS -- Hank CLUELESS I said) was about as useless as tits on a warthog. He'd say about every stiff, "This guy is a pain in the ass and I have haemorrhoids bunched up like grapes in my asshole." He whined, "He don't wanna get caught." Well who does, bounty man?

Boba Fett you ain't.

Hank Bayless is retiring though. Depressing thought. I paused the DVR and looked at the old defeated codger and thought, "What are you going to do with the rest of your life I wonder, you man?"
Death is depressing. it clearly casts a dreary pall even over life.

Leland broke into the house and said, "We're comin' right for ya now ese brah."
Dog said that the fugitive was "hanging on his coattails."

Dog on the informant: "We don't know his name?"
The trainee-stiff replied, "No, I can't remember his name."
There was a pause and Dog coughed awkwardly and went, "Mmmmm. Okay. Look, next time write his name okay?"

[...]

Then he goes,  "Who we after again?"

I answered the TV at this point, thusly: "I have no idea."

"The House Always Wins."

Sometimes in your day, in your life, in your soul's reeling arc betwixt the vault and the precipice, you have to simply listen to some good old kkkountry gold on the stereo of your shitkicker flatbed truck. And when you stop, as stop ye must, you have to stroll over to your foeman's front porch, where your foeman lounges in a hammock, and you got to spit a plug of tobacco in your foeman's face and smile as the juice drips down your foeman's chin.

Other times you have to watch an episode of Dog the Bounty Hunter that you know that you have seen before, even with the knowing that thy term of natural life on this firmament is perishing by the second.

Why because it's good and it's righteous and it's right and it's goodly and it's kindly and it's not ungood.

This lunchtime I watched an episode where Dog was going after an inveterate gambler, one Kristine Lau, and this provided the premise and the impetus for round after round of gambling metaphors from Dog.

"She's a gambler. So are we. We're gamblers. It's gonna be like chasing ourselves. Because bounty-hunters are gamblers. Every time we take on a bond we make a gamble. Right?"

The camera then shows Leland with his lips parted. You can almost read his mind:

"...? Whaddid he just say? We're gamblers now?"

Nothing daunted, Dog kept the thematic zingers coming. "We're The House. She's the gambler. She's bet she can outrun me. A-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha."

Now Dog had narrowed his focus. He wasn't going to keep making broad gambling metaphors. He was going to refer to himself and the team henceforth as "The House".

This is not to say he didn't experiment with other, equally confusing figures of speech. At one point, to punctuate a lull in the narrative, he growled "We're here. We're live. This isn't Memorex."

Bad metaphor for the digital age, Duane. You're making yourself look old - obsolete.

Then he resorted to that classic trope of American folk rhetoric, willful exaggeration. Speaking of his quarry's dwindling options, he asked facetiously, "Where they gonna go, the ocean? They gonna rent a submarine to get away from us?"

He was on rare form in this episode. It was, I should note, from maybe six or seven years ago, when the world looked young and hopeful and a bard was inspired to heights inconceivable today.

Dog's methodology had been typically bewildering. In pursuit of Kristine Lau they had decided to be as blatant and cumbersome as possible, effected by blundering raucously into all the illegal gambling dens and asking the staff bluntly "Ya seen her?" while brandishing her mugshot. Amazingly, when this didn't turn up any results, Dog seemed genuinely surprised. He was at a loss as to how it could've not've worked.

As time ran out the bounty-hunting team would go to the car parks of these strip malls where the gambling dens were and saunter around like Union Square protesters, ostensibly scaring off custom. I think the quaint idea was to embarrass her into submission. This didn't seem to be working either, especially because come about ten o'clock at night, when most gamblers are still eating breakfast, the Chapmans got tired and went home.

They were knocking on a gambling den door one evening when they received a call from their own office that Kristine Lau was there and had given herself up. Not one to underplay the moment, Dog still got right flustered and acted like they were in a race against death itself to get back to the office before Kristine Lau changed her mind. He was all animated in the SUV, bouncing up and down on the back seat, one second chiding Beth for her driving then chuckling with glee "The House is gonna win!"

As usual when they got to the office the arrest was totally mundane and everybody calmed down immediately.

Nevertheless, Dog had room for one more gambling metaphor in his summing-up segment: "In a gambling perspective you win, lose or draw. This was a draw."

Here he paused, and I thought he had finally laid his flirtation with the device of The House to rest. No such thing. He grinned his pure kkkountry gold smile and resumed:

"A draw in favour of The House."

"Charlie Manson Eyes"

"God loves everybody, including these guys." - Duane Chapman

"Lord thank-you for this day, bless us as we go full blast." - Duane Chapman

On Dog the Bounty Hunter, Dog pursued this perpetrator in Colorado who Dog eloquently and insightfully said looked like "Wild Bill Hickock!" Then, squinting at his mugshot, Dog covered up the lower part of the perp's face and chuckled "Manson eyes!"

("Suddenly discovering in the eyes of the Colorado small-time ex-con

The eyes of the very learned criminal mastermind." )

The bounty hunters like to mess around with the image of their quarries and make personal jokes about their faces, who they look like &c. On a Halloween episode there was some biker tattoo artist asshole who they said looked like a pumpkin. They cut out the photo of his head and made it a pumpkin shape.

This particular perp today had posed for the police mugshot with his head held back, staring down his nose, so the bounty hunters couldn't tell if he had hair or if he was bald. I coughed awkwardly, painfully recognising this tactic from my own life.

Anyway they caught the Hicock-Manson guy at a trailer park. Like most felons, he was arrested without his shirt on. The guy was rambunctious and scrambling and sliding all over the place. Jumped out of a window and dumped his stash of crank. Dog caught him, wrestled him to the ground and unnecessarily made fun of his bald head.

Dog has got some nerve making fun of anyone's hair loss - he's quite patently thinning on top himself. He scrapes what hair he has all over his head in an intricate four-dimensional pattern that cannot be described by conventional contemporary mathematics or mechanics. Dog's hairstyle is in fact like an M.C. Escher drawing.

The perp was embarrassed to have been arrested in front of his neighbours. He spontaneously went from scrabbling about half-naked in the dirt to being all Victorian and genteel. He groaned, "All the neighbours think this is some crazy beef. My God---"

Dog was not exactly sensitive; he chuckled, "Nooooo, it's all right, it's a trailer court, it's not the Taj Mahal."

The perpetrator duly got his cigarette and his opportunity to cool off and tell his sad story-- and here I became confused. The perp told how he had managed to get his life back in order after a phase of chronic heroin addiction and petty criminal bungling, and that his life since had been just "dynamite!" He went on, "I met a nice dame. Kids call me Dad. Everything's okay. I mean when I'm not loaded I'm a not unpleasant motherfucker. Then Nine-Eleven hits and I get kicked out of a job..."

Here I stopped listening and frowned. How exactly, I was wondering to myself, did the events of September 11th impact the job of this man living in a Colorado trailer park? The nefarious influence of the Reverend Bin Laden is notoriously evident in much mischief abroad, I concede, but can it really be discerned in this ex-con losing his job somewhere in Colorado?

The black fingernail of disgusting evil is long indeed and rather like a hydra!

"The Lion and The Lamb –– And That D___ Dog."

Sometimes Dog makes a big rollicking deal of an assignment when it could be done perfectly simply. He complicates things unnecessarily to create tension. Like on the episode "Father and Son." Leland called his father over to "the big island" to assist in what was supposedly a troublesome case. It was so difficult that Leland couldn't handle it alone.

Dog walked into Leland's office and phoned up the felon. The felon's name was "Paki," which in England at least is a racist slur but obviously this is not so in Waikiki. Dog asked Paki to come over to the office. Paki agreed to do so, and said "I'll be there in half an hour."

"He's probably so high he don't know what he's doing," Leland mumbled, piqued that it was all going so smoothly.

Dog laughed dramatically and said "I love an ambush!"

I was thinking, what ambush? You phoned the man up and he agreed to come in.

Because this was too easy, Dog decided to "stir the pot" and obfuscate matters for no reason. He bade Leland now phone Paki again and impress upon him that he must come by now because they were auditing and his father was mad at him. Then Dog walks out onto the veranda, saying "I hate to watch my son lie so I'll be out here."

Leland got on the speaker-phone, and just as he had begun talking to Paki, Dog walked back into the room and pulled Leland's pony-tail. It doesn't take much to confuse Leland and this was all it took. He was stammering on the phone and reeling.

Afterwards, Leland was sort of miffed, you could see, and Dog obviously knew in his heart of hearts that he had been an irresponsible pillock because now he was making up elaborate rationales for why he pulled his son's pony-tail. "I wanted to get Leland to sound good and mad on the phone to fool the felon," he said.

Then they went about setting a trap for Paki. Dog waited in the office while Leland sat in an undisclosed location outdoors ("the mosquito patch") and Tim Chapman was down the street. Dog then got his nephew "Justin" to dress up as an "ice-head" and coached him in how to act like the aforementioned "ice-head." This seemingly involved jogging on the spot and shaking about. Justin was meant to accost the felon on his way up to the bailbondsman office and so follow him to the office in case he suddenly tried to escape.

None of this made any sense to me. If the felon was going to come into the office, why would he suddenly try to escape in the last hundred yards between his car and the office?

As it turned out, Paki walked into the office as meek as a lamb and Dog said "You're under arrest, hold out your hands," and Paki coolly complied and the arrest was mundane. Paki goes, "I want to work for you, Dog." The felons seldom put up a fight. All Dog's gilding and filligree was pointless.

"I like the arrest by appointment," Dog crowed regardless. "We tricked him real good."

Gotta fill thirty minutes somehow.

Another time Dog created unnecessary complications by phoning up the quarry's landlady and saying, unbidden, "This is Dog." He turned to the camera and goes "Ah she recognised my voice anyway." The egotism on this guy. The brass! So now the felon had full warning and then a chase was necessitated.

Later Dog had the temerity to go "Somebody told them we were after them."

They caught a felon and she told Dog about how her daughter had died. Dog goes, "That's one of the saddest fricking stories I ever heard."

He wanted to cry but he wasn't quite upset enough.

This episode was a special focus on Leland. It was like "Secret Origins" of Leland, which is good because Leland is the most cryptic and mysterious character on the show. He is the Snake Eyes of the Dog set. He is the one character who can actually hold his own in a fight so he is the one always sent up to the front door. Can you imagine Duane Lee in a brawl? Duane Lee is always told to go "round the back" of the house. Endless shots off him milling around in back yards across Hawaii. I don't know why Dog even bothers to tell him any more. Duane Lee must know by now that his place is round the back of the house.

My wife said "Leland's got such big ears... and a lot of air in between."

[...]

I hope you liked my latest notes on Dog the Bounty Hunter.

"Dog the Bounty Hunter: A Novel."

Since 1993 I have had the irresistible compulsion to write a novel, but when it comes down to it I only rouse idle trivial thoughts and bop them around dully like a kitten playing cup and ball - fetid leaves swept up from the flagstones which flare for a spell, flicker and duly settle again in a different corner.

Banana leaves -- sycamore leaves -- my leaves are autumnal and broke - - -

I am a truthful man from the land of the palm trees / And before dying, I want to share these poems of my soul / My poems are soft green / My poems are also flaming crimson /My poems are like a wounded fawn seeking refuge in the forest.

This is another clump of the self-same dry leaves. A pot-pourri for the maw of Tophet, if you will allow the flourish. (If you will not, disregard the last sentence.)

I thought: there is a Faulknerian dynastic novel lurking within the seemingly banal and berserk goings-on of the bounty-hunting Chapman family.

Dog the Bounty Hunter is aired on TV in a muddle of repeats from different years in which we are tumbled back and forth through the time-space continuum willy-nilly in the company of the Chapman family. It is an anti-chronological negative-zone whirlpool in which even an experienced time-traveller could get confused. Even so, the current season of Dog the Bounty Hunter is easily recognisable from among the others.

In the new episodes, Beth looks pronouncedly younger and Dog looks conspicuously older.

Dog has lost weight and his lower eyelids have accordingly sunk eight inches as a result and he now looks gaunt and noble -- thwarted and impotent, like a Biblical patriarch. When he stares dolefully into the mist (mistily into the dole queue), as his family skirmishes around him, mace cans in their hands, I get to idly daydreaming about writing a thinly-veiled novel about Dog the Bounty Hunter and his family. The inevitable ageing and the doomed onset of wisdom would be my subject. Arms and the man would be my subject. My conjectures would be followed to their logical endpoints for a rip-roaring legend for all the family.

(Here everything disintegrates into sketchy notes written in a fever.)

Dog: firstly he is older. Obviously so. You can see his mind is no longer on the job.

His vacant expression at inapt times.

Reinstating his nephew Justin was clearly a poor choice and a clear sign that Dog had lost his tactical edge. Justin was and always will be a lovable fuck-up. Everybody knows this but Dog doggedly insisted on giving this dog another day. They brought Justin back to the pack and this proves to have been a fatal right poor decision later on in the novel.

Important: Leland has an affair with Beth. This was my first spark of inspiration, I must admit. As Dog gets older and Beth seemingly gets younger, she starts to look at the son in a way she never used to. She is a tough woman with a hide like a rhinocerous and a heart like an elephant. She needs constant warming-up and upkeep.

They carry on outrageously to the disgust of everybody except Dog who doesn't (or doesn't seem to) notice it. If he does notice it, he doesn't apparently care. Also Baby-Lissa (nearly wrote Amy-Liisa there) is so stunned by TV fame that she follows Beth around uncritically, narcissistically.

We, the readers, will have the inside knowledge that Dog does know about it; and he freely lets Beth and Leland "run around" together because Dog feels a dreadful guilt - no, not guilt - regret that he can no longer sexually satisfy Beth in the way to which she is accustomed.

Important to insert a quote here from "Ruby, Don't Take Your Love to Town."

Duane Lee, however, knows of the disgusting incestuous affair and he at least shan't stand for the outrage of his father's good name and virtue. This is the set-up for the ancient mythological ur-tale of The Two Warring Brothers. Cain and Abel -- Duane Lee and Leland.

Duane Lee, in this season, has been filmed "working out in the gym" - assisting the one-legged Justin and helping him build his muscles up "so he can be tough like me." This is something of a strange character development for us viewers, who are used to seeing Duane Lee as a bit of a goof-off second-rater, a fat coward and a sneak. Dog always sends Duane Lee "round the back" of a perp's shack - where nothing ever happens. Dog places more responsibility in the lap of Baby-Lissa than the ample lap of Duane Lee for goodness' sake!

Anyway so there is this laughable idea that Duane Lee has been out in the wilderness building himself up into a Tough Guy, like Toshiro Mifune in Yojimbo - training, as I say, with that dependable misfit One-Legged Justin. Training for his bout with Leland.

Meanwhile Beth has had various surgical procedures to make herself thinner and younger-looking. She also spends more time - too much time it is whispered - with her personal assistants, who woo and wow her with ideas from New York and Los Angeles -- Paris, Milan and London. Even some ideas from Luxembourg.

Beth becomes more urban and "cool" just as Dog is become more rural and foggy and fazed-out. Beth is also ever more cruel and bloodthirsty on bounties. She is taking out her stress on the perps, just as Dog is becoming more humane and philosophical and magnanimous with them. Obvious rifts emerge, both in matters of bounty-hunting technique and in the vagueries of the boudoir.

Maybe it all comes to a head when Beth violently murders a perp who after all only has one measly misdemeanour for "alleged illegal custodianship of a propelled vehicle". Dog is shocked and wants Beth to turn herself in to the "County Sheriff" or the "Federal Marshall" [?] but she won't - worse, she makes Dog collude with her, forcing him at gunpoint and in tears to bury the corpse.

"Now you're implicated, Big Daddy!" she drawls through a curled lip - and sniggers.

Dog sobs, leaning on his spade. The scene resembles Millet's Angelus.

Dog becomes more and more abstracted as the novel goes on. Falls in love with a horse.

Duane Lee becomes crazier and crazier, under the absurd illusion that he is a tough guy.

Youngblood - you wonder about Youngblood. Where is he? I wonder this too. Youngblood, I decided, is craftily exiled from the gang by Beth's "Macchiavelian machinations"; she manipulates events so that Youngblood and Dog have a final falling-out over a seemingly trivial thing. (Cigarettes, say - - or the Samoan secretary.)

This could be connected cleverly to the real-life allegations that Youngblood was caught jerking off in his car a few years ago.

Anyway I'd have it end so that Youngblood comes through finally to redeem Dog's shame, his cuckolded humiliation, but at a horrific cost. Leland kills Justin and Duane Lee with consummate ease (he has, I should perhaps have mentioned, become a diabolical, monosyllabic ninja killer by this point; finds himself in the sinister, dazed, doomed thrall of Beth). Even so Youngblood kills Leland with nunchuks and then, in a heroic fury, Beth.

Dog enters the room hazy from an afternoon catnap to find Youngblood standing over the corpses and he goes, "Whu-- Tim-- bra! -- you killed Bethy!" He and Youngblood tazer eachother and that's how it ends - with the two men tragically locked in each other's tazers, electricity pulsing through them.

Incidentally, has a novel ever ended with a tazer duel before?