Almost every day my eye goes first to Britt in the background, whom we know killed her poor lover, the agent Riggs (the ghostly shadow in a fedora haunting the curtains behind her), with the help of her horse Thumper off Bogie’s left shoulder. Clear cut case. I never liked her. Frivolous and self-obsessed. Then a couple of weeks ago, when her eye appeared, enviously eyeing Gloria, she seemed harder, perhaps even malevolent, yet self-possessed. Almost impressive. But now I wonder if Britt might be a reincarnation of the Buddha, eternally calm, without cravings or aversions. So I thought of her today while flipping through some Nietzsche to this: “The snake which cannot cast its skin has to die. As well the minds which are prevented from changing their opinions; they cease to be mind.”⠀