Ramblings from the Desert

The man who trades freedom for security does not deserve nor will he ever receive either. ~Benjamin Franklin

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Location: New Mexico

Author of the urban fantasy novel, The Music of Chaos, and the paranormal romance, The Canvas Thief.

Tuesday, May 04, 2010

I Dream of Dexter

Dexter, how I love thee.

Edge-of-your-seat plotting, great characters, snappy dialogue. Dexter is the husband and I's new favorite show.

Dexter is a serial killer who preys on other serial killers. His choice of victim, amusingly, being what elevates him from psycho to admirable vigilante. Even though he really, really, likes killing people. He clearly relishes jabbing a knife into his helpless victim and then meticulously carving them into pieces.

Not sure what this says about most of the show's fans. Me, I'm a misanthrope. That's my excuse. As long as he's killing bad people, and not cute little animals (anymore), I'm good.

The real strength of the show, however, lies in the female characters. I have a hard time understanding my own gender. And many fictional (and real) women annoy the crap out of me. Take the women on my husband's favourite show Chuck. Especially, Chuck's sister, Ellie. Maybe it's the fault of the actress, who has about as much charisma as a bag of hammers, but the character is insipid on a good day. Her role is to be "supportive." Sorry, but support is for bras, not a human beings.

The women on Dexter are flawed and, therefore, fabulous.

Lieutenant Maria LaGuerta is, at first glance, somewhat unlikable, obviously driven by what is politically expedient. But she's also a woman and a minority navigating the treacherous waters of a male dominated field.

And Debra Morgan, Dexter's sister? She's strong-willed, crass and foul mouthed. I can sooo relate. She somehow manages to also be shatteringly vulnerable. That's a hard one to pull off, since vulnerable and female seems to equal either perpetual victim or a Pollyanna.

Speaking of Pollyannas, Dexter's girlfriend Rita, could have easily gone that route. As the single mom who was abused by her former husband, and now unwittingly in love with a serial killer, she has sweet, long-suffering, victim tattooed on her forehead. OTOH, she's often shown surprising chutzpah. She is not only willing to do what is right by her children (big deal, most moms would), but she often drops the saintly crap and does what is right by her.

Since we don't have cable, we get our Dexter through Netflix. (Love the show, but no way am I paying $100 or more a month for TV.) It's gotten to where I'm sort of disappointed when the next thing in the Netflix queue is a ... movie.

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