Salon has a whet-your-whistle preview of David Milch's follow-up to Deadwood, John from Cincinnati, which from the looks of things seems to have abandoned the "surf noir" motif in favor of "surf apocalypticism," something I'm much more excited about.

No matter what, however, we still need those last four episodes of Deadwood eventually. For me the entire point of that series—as, indeed, of The Sopranos itself—has been (surprise!) apocalypticism: the bitter irony that no matter what these characters do or say, no matter what they manage to build for themselves in the Black Hills, it will all of it burn to the ground on September 26, 1879.

UPDATE: On the other hand, the critics don't seem to care for it, which can't be a good sign—they like everything on HBO.