I woke up at 4am with my cat under the covers with me due to the cold. I went downstairs and turned the heat up from 55 to 65. I came back upstairs and put on a bathrobe and slippers and wrapped my Faux Suede Down Throw around me (a Down Throw is so much better than an Up Chuck!), settled down to watch Dark Shadows, and was confronted with wide expanses of cold, rugless floors. Now that is horror!
I like the idea of two incarnations of the same person meeting up face to face. "In saving you, I save myself." A neat subject for contemplation. But today I thought to myself: Imagine discovering that your previous incarnation was a tiresomely hysterical slut! And then I thought: If you have actual proof that reincarnation is a fact, then it doesn't matter what happens. You'll always come back. You can be take a dive off of Widows Hill, you can be hanged as a witch, you can die in every possible way and a few impossible ways - you'll always come back. I'm not sure how it works if we have global thermonuclear war and the earth becomes uninhabitable - but never mind, you'll come back. But I suppose the details could be a problem. Certain terms and conditions may apply.
I like Sheriff Patterson. His accent sounds fake, but I like it anyway. He can sit in his office all day smoking and doing nothing, and I'll still like him. It was sort of fun in 1790 when Joshua said he didn't want to bring any outside people into the Collins family's latest problem, and the camera turned to André Dupres, Patterson's 1790 alter ego.
But why does Joshua want to keep everybody else out of it? As far as he knew at that point, Barnabas was attacked by a wild animal and died. Why is that so shameful?