THE BACHELOR: LET THE GAMES BEGIN

I really wanted to title this blog, 'Bitches Be Crazy', but I thought that might be too harsh, especially coming from another female. So, I went with 'Let the Games Begin' and by games I mean all sorts of crazy tricks and gimmicks that women pull! Including but not limited to: blindfolded candy tasting, line dancing, grandma's on crutches, and Bacon-themed 'taste me' nickname invitations...and this is just Episode 1. Lord help Bachelor Ben.

HOMELAND'S ON ITS FEET

I’ve been dreading this blog ever since around episode five (Blind Spot) when Homeland suddenly got really, really good. I knew then that this show was going to take off and my in-flight meal would be crow, lots of it.You see in a previous blog I called the first two episodes of the show lukewarm and predictable; now after the show’s inaugural season finale I should make good on my promise to allow Donald Rumsfeld to waterboard me if it turned itself around...

DEXTER'S SHOCKING FINALE

I love it when art and life intermingle. Plays within plays and films within films are, if well-done, ubiquitous mirrors reflecting the farcical lives of the artists involved. But when the drama of real life is juxtaposed with entertainment, like Richard Pryor making light of setting himself on fire, a more uncomfortably palpable tension is created. This was the case for the season six finale of Dexter.

BOARDWALK SEASON TWO IS HISTORY

HBO has a history of, well, reinterpreting history. In Rome a Roman soldier rather than Julius Caesar supposedly impregnated Cleopatra. Deadwood revisited the murder of Wild Bill Hickok along with the annexation of the camp. The Wire was a bit subtler, introducing the idea of drug legalization just as former Baltimore Mayor Kurt L. Schmoke actually did. The Season 2 finale of Boardwalk Empire continues this trend, though sacrifices must be made.

THE WALKING DEAD, MID-SEASON WRAP-UP

Shut up. You enemies of character development, pathos, and simmering tension, just shut up. For weeks now I have been listening to your whiny bloodlust over a ‘slower’ Walking Dead season, lamenting the loss of showrunner Frank Darabont as the reason for this. Then came the mid-season finale, and the blessed silence of the doubters.