Definitely digging Dexter

This is the way to watch a continuing TV series—all at once. Over the course of the past two days, I’ve watched the first seven (of 12) episodes of season two of Dexter. The second season is all about Dexter spinning plates to make sure the wheels don’t fall off his secrets, to mix some metaphors. He’s in serious cover-up mode, while at the same time he’s opening himself up more and more to the new lady on the scene, the mysterious Lila. I like the fact that she has a British accent, but no one makes anything of that. She mentions London once, but otherwise her background (thus far) is something of a mystery. Her lips move in fascinating ways when she talks, too. I also really like Keith Carradine as the FBI serial killer expert. He’s a cross between Grissom of C.S.I. and Forrest Gump (a comparison I first conceived when he was sitting on the pier eating a cucumber sandwich and dipping his feet in the water, reinforced by a later scene when he’s sitting on a park bench eating his lunch).

Best line so far: “Excuse my tits,” uttered by Lila. I wonder how they’re going to tame that scene down for CBS. Also: “I hope they kill the bastard when they catch him. Have a nice day,” says Rita. “Make up your mind,” Dexter thinks in response.

I wonder how Jeff Lindsay feels about the divergence between his notion of Dexter and his past and what’s happening on the TV show. Many people are going to come to his books through the series, but the whole story of Harry and his rules takes a twist this year, and that’s not part of the books. As the written and filmed versions continue, the divergence can only grow. I wonder if Lindsay is at all influenced by what he sees on the screen.

This afternoon I have to get an old filling and a not-so-old crown replaced. Oh, joy.