The Debate: To Watch or Not to Watch—It’s Not Even a Question

Last night was the first of the 2020 presidential debates between Joe Biden and the current occupant of the White House. Studly Doright asked if I wanted to watch the event and I thought about it for all of two seconds before saying, “No!”

This will be the first time in many years that I refuse to watch a presidential debate. In 2016 I watched Trump boorishly looming over Hillary Clinton while he lied through his teeth. While she handled the whole intimidation attempt beautifully, I did not. It made me sick to my stomach, and I didn’t sleep at all afterwards.

Trump represents the worst mankind has to offer. He is without honor, solely interested in enriching himself, and maybe his family if their interests happen to align with his own. And he will say anything, do anything, to screw over the little guy in his quest for the almighty dollar.

What did we do instead of watching the debate? We watched Dexter on Netflix. Yes, I’d rather watch a serial killer killing other serial killers than watch Trump bloviate ad nauseam.


Peace, people!

Your Friendly Neighborhood Serial Killer

Studly Doright and I have been watching “Dexter” on Netflix. We’re just finishing season 2. The show is gory and sexy and yes, darkly amusing. Dexter is a serial killer, but he only kills serial killers. And he’s killed a bunch of them.

Michael C. Hall plays Dexter. He’s also a forensics specialist for the Miami police department. That makes his “hobby” as a serial killer both easier and more difficult. He has access to the inner workings of the police department, but he also has to watch every move he makes lest his off duty habits raise suspicion amongst his highly observant peers.

The supporting cast is great: Jennifer Carpenter as Debra Morgan, Dexter’s sister, Luna Lauren Vélez, as Maria LaGuerta, a tough and loyal department captain, the gorgeous, yet troubled Erik King, as Sgt. Doakes. The lovable David Zayas, as Angel Batista, and sweet Julie Benz, as Rita Bennett, Dexter’s girlfriend.

One would think that a serial killer wouldn’t engender feelings of sympathy. Honestly, we should be hoping that Dexter gets caught, but episode after episode we root for him, hoping he’ll evade the authorities and live to kill another day.

Maybe we don’t want him to continue killing, but we don’t want him to be discovered either. If Dexter dies, there’s no more series, and the series is so blooming good.

I don’t recommend “Dexter” unless you have a strong stomach, and a perverse sense of humor. Apparently, I have both.

Peace, people.