Dexter blog revived

After a long hiatus from blogging about anything Dexter-related, I am resuming.

To be honest, I had been more or less disappointed with Season 3 thus far. I should know by now that the whole structure of a Dexter season is about 66% plot set up and about 33% pay off. The problem is, with the previous seasons, the writers tossed us a bone or two much earlier in the season, rather than waiting until practically the last minute.

What I like most about this season, is that the past couple of episodes have been quite relevatory of Miguel Prado's true nature, forcing us, the viewers to shed whatever preconceptions or assumptions we had about Miguel. Now, we're forced to look back in hindsight and look at Miguel through a new set of lenses. I haven't wanted to go back and totally dissect and analyze an entire character arc since President Logan in Season 5 of 24. I want to see how the development of the character Prado has contributed to the plot set-up..

The season has gotten much more interesting as we delve further and further into the character of Miguel Prado. Up until this point, we've been led to believe that Miguel was a bit of an overzealous, self-proclaimed member of the Justice League, irked by the depravity of the system and justifiably ridding Miami of the scum of the earth. Now we realize more than ever how dark and twisted Miguel's true nature is.

One of the most interesting things about this season has been the disruption and apparent reinvention of Harry's code. Season 2 left us with the impression that Dexter, jaded by Harry's inability to handle the "monster he had created," would abandon the code in new ways.

1) He abandoned the code first--albeit inadvertently--in the first killing of Oscar Prado, the main impetus for Season 3's plot arc. He killed someone spontaneously without any assurance of guilt.
2) He intentionally abandoned his code yet again with the whole key lime pie incident with Camilla. Again, the ethical lines are blurred as the show tangles with question of euthanasia. Also, the episode turned me off to key lime entirely. And I wasn't a huge fan to begin with.
3) He breaks the code yet again by tag teaming with Miguel Prado.
4) Dexter seems to be ignoring the Skinner completely, which would seem to be the most natural choice of prey for Dexter.

I mentioned this in a previous Season 2 blog, but it seems that any time someone who comes along and at least partially recognizes Dexter for who he is: Brian, Lila and now Miguel, they are always at odds with Dexter's code in some way and Dexter inevitably ends up killing them. I see no other path for Miguel, other than this ending him in being Dextered.

Interestingly enough, I think this season more than any other season has explored--not so much the darkness (or Dark Passenger) within Dexter himself, but rather in those around him. Season 1 focused on Dexter the Monster and how he came to be. Season 2 focused on Dexter--still a Monster--but struggling for survival and learning to deal with the Dark Passenger. Season 3 has focused primarily on the corruption of the system, and how that begins in the monsters in the people around him, most obviously Miguel Prado. This season, more than any other season, I believe, has raised serious ethical questions on justification of murder, motive of the murderer and how the cause of justice becomes twisted to serve the Monster's own inner appetites.

Some interesting plot points/questions to consider:

1) At what point did Miguel become aware of Dexter's true nature? Was this immediately after Oscar Prado was killed? Or was it after he stumbled upon Dexter killing Freebo?
2) Has Miguel figured out that Dexter is the Bay Harbor Butcher? This seems reasonable to assume. His close relationship with LaGuerta may bring about some hidden connection Miguel may have with Doakes. Miguel may have known all along that Doakes was not the Bay Harbor Butcher.
3) Is there a deeper connection between the Skinner and Miguel? We are assuming at this juncture that the Skinner wants nothing more than to settle the score with Freebo. His chosen victims all have a link to Freebo. If Skinner finds out that Freebo is already dead, how would that change his motivation to kill?
4) Since it appears that Miguel has been manipulating Dexter all along, what is his end goal with Dexter? Of course, we are assuming that he wanted all along to learn the ropes from Dexter, but something tells me there is more to it than that.
5) What is the true line that separates Miguel from Dexter? Most obviously, the code separates them, but they seem to now be motivated by an insatiable need to kill. Miguel seems enthralled with the power trip it brings, while Dexter, it's an appetite that needs to be sated every now and then. Miguel is hotheaded, driven by personal agenda--seen best in his crusade against Ellen Wolf. Dexter never makes things personal. His victims are carefully, coolly chosen.
6) Why has Dexter not gone after the Skinner at all? He's been so distracted with Miguel this season, it never crossed his mind to hunt the Skinner down. Very odd. I wonder if that will change.
7) What did Miguel do when he was along with King? I wouldn't put it past him if he let King escape somehow so he could kill him himself.
8) LaGuerta is obviously going to become more important to the climax. How and to what end will Miguel manipulate her? I think it's safe to say he already has...
9) Where's my favorite crucial plot point music? Come on, writers...:(

So, although this season may not be the most quotable or thrilling, I have to give the writers major props for making it the most complex and interesting season in terms of ethical questions raised. The constant scenes with Harry, the juxtaposition of Dexter's nightly extracurricular activities with a wedding and baby on the way. Miguel and the Skinner playing the foil to Dexter. So many plot intricacies to consider...

My First 10K

Back from a long hiatus of uninspired blogging, I finally found something I believe is blog worthy...

I finished my first ever 10K on Sunday. Jeanne, Dana and I ran in the Florida Hospital 10K in Celebration. I had often attended these running events as a supporting friend or family member when my dad has run his marathons or Paige has run her half marathons.

This time, I attended as a runner, which was a huge accomplishment to me. If you told me 4 months ago I would be running a 10K, I would have laughed in your face. (And if you know me, you know that's true...;)

In preparation for this 10K, Jeanne and I had been following Hal Higdon's Novice 10K training program, although we modified it to suit our needs. For instance, I was not cool with following a training schedule that didn't even have me run 6 miles at ALL prior to the race, so we definitely incorporated that into the schedule. Also, the second to last week--supposedly the most rigorous week in which you're supposed to push yourself--I ran 6 miles on Sunday, 5 on Tuesday, then approximately 6 miles again in Seattle. Also, I know averaging 11 minute miles is really slow, but my main goal in running this was to simply run from start to finish without stopping. I think now that I've finished a 10K, if I ever do one again, I would work harder at improving my time.

I discovered a few things while training that last week.

-First of all, I LOVE running in the cold. When we had that cold snap in central Florida on Tuesday morning, I feel like I could run forever. That theory was further confirmed when we went running in Seattle. I don't know why, but I feel much better running in 50 degrees, or even upper 40s as opposed to upper 70s or lower 80s. That Sunday I ran with Jeanne, I had a ROUGH time, mostly because a) I'm not used to running around lots of cars and traffic b)The sun was beating down and there was no shade c) I was not familiar with the route. It's so interesting how so many factors play into whether or not you have a good run.

Running Seattle was by far the best experience for me. Jeanne and I ran a trail that runs next to the University of Washington campus. The first couple of miles were lovely, running on a trail with a canopy of yellow and red autumn leaves over us. Then the trail took us by the river and under some cool footbridges. The route was incredibly scenic and I had Death Cab for a Cutie's "Plans" to keep me pumping for nearly an hour. Good memories of running in Seattle:)

-Also, I discovered DURING the race that I actually can run and talk at the same time. Whenever Jeanne and I have run together, we both put on our iPod headphones and barely talk to each other, except for pointing out something funny every now and then. Also, Jeanne likes to run like Dwight from the Office occasionally, which always makes for good entertainment.

Dana joined us for the 10K, and she is a huge proponent of talking. I found that although it was difficult to sustain talking toward the end of the race, it made the first 3-4 miles incredibly enjoyable. I didn't need to use my headphones for the entire race. And now I have a new friend:)

-I was intrigued by the competitive speed walking which sounds as legit as Olympic curling, but I was further shamed when a few overzealous competitive speed walkers actually PASSED us, we who were running. So I stand corrected.

-I had hoped somebody would have shot a gun into the sky to start the race. That was my wish. Sadly, that did not happen.

-Also, I wore my lucky pants. They haven't failed me yet. See below:)

The Lure

How quickly I throw in the towel.

I confidently (arrogantly?)
cast my line
The lure lands lightly
Breaking up the placid water
Stirring the pool

But only ever so slightly.

Jerking the line around
I strive to anticipate your desire
The lure dances and glitters
Bobbing up and down
Flashing in the sunlight
So swift, so easy

So noncommital.

I keep my soul safely on shore
While this lure
This disembodied self
Swirls, leaps and tangos
Skimming across the surface
Drunk with my own beguiling

But, you,
Having none of it,
You plunge
and dart away in quite a hurry.

Cordially, though.
but too cordially.

So swiftly
So frenetically
That it can hardly be called a retreat.

Love, let me see you.

I'll show you me
If you show me you.

Last night, I dreamt
We dove into the river headlong
Plunging, delving
Dying
into the beautiful deep

you watched me heal you
And I watched you heal me.

But on this sundrenched day
we are disembodied selves
only acting out our fear and shame
In charms and lures and games

From opposite shorelines.

Fusion

The story: This poem was born out of thoughts and conversation from atop the Space Needle on a beautiful Seattle evening.

I was hoping this would be a song, but for now the thoughts are a poem.

The idea for this started when I stepped out on the observation deck of the Space Needle and was greeted by a trio of musicians, playing violin and guitar, with no one around to listen but me. Their audience was the merely the city below.

Other conversations inspired this poem, but the image of those musicians silhouetted against the night sky, instruments in hand, with no one to hear them but the city below was just a beautiful picture to me.

We sat atop the world.

Glittering like a jewel in the evening
Full of possibilities of pain and pleasure
The stars found themselves mirrored
In the glimmer below

Or was it the other way around?

I heard violins and guitars
Strummed and plucked
For pleasure none but their own
And their gypsy tunes drift
Carefree and lustily
Like a fine, sweet smoke.

Despite their warmth, I shivered
And retreated inside behind glass doors
Where the view is less brilliant
But far more manageable.

A lone, fragile thread
Starting to unravel
As words unconsciously
Eased through the cracks
Of a contemplative heart
Belying the calm, pleasant facade.

A lovely contradiction, to be sure
In which notes resonated
with only the slightest discord

I heard your counterpoint
Rising and falling
In a broken double helix
Straining toward tension
Longing for release
Meeting in brief, rare moments of
Synchronicity

Yet the harmony and beauty
Become enmeshed in the discord
In the disconnect
In the contradiction.

This rebellious fugue haunts me
And while it reverberates indoors
Upon these glass walls
There is no chance of dissipation

For I hear it gently ricochet
Against my spirit
Again and again

And I hear its source
And I become it
While it becomes me

And through the glass window
I hear strains of that gypsy melody
Play on and on outside
To serenade the shining city below
With its unfettered bohemian spirit

And I think to myself

Maybe I should invent a new genre.

another video. I'm a lazy blogger lately.

please watch this: even and especially if you hate politics

If you're like anybody else, you're probably sick of all the political talk lately and you've probably made up your mind on who you're voting for. I tend to bow in and out of politics talk at my own whim, but this is an important video to watch.

This is the first video of six segments. If you watch the first one, you'll find links to the remaining five on YouTube.



Thoughts?

My Songs: A Tribute to My Friends

Over the years, I've had a lot of humorous, heartbreaking, poignant and lovely encounters with beautiful people. And over the course of these friendships, I've often been inspired to write songs, some serious, some not so serious. I've often said that although I am not easily impressed, experiences and people often do make a deep impressions on me. And musician that I am, these stories and impressions often find their way into songs.

It suddenly occurred to me that I really have been blessed over the years to have crossed paths with some truly amazing people. And I know that these are just simple songs, but looking back on them, I hope they do these inspirers justice...
I decided to post the stories behind several of my songs.

Although I am not posting the lyrics in their entirety, I will include choice lyrics for your reading pleasure;)

P.S. For future reference, if you are really good friends with or date a songwriter, chances are you will likely end up in one or more of their songs. Or a dozen. It's inevitable.

You've been warned.

Enjoy.

Spoon Guy: Kate Lundberg

I wrote this song as a high schooler at a Christ in Youth Conference at Milligan College in Johnson City, Tennessee. Kate and I had both been eyeing this really cute guy all week. (You know how those Christian camps/conferences are breeding grounds for such ogling). Anyway, one morning at breakfast in the cafeteria, Kate and I were getting Apple Jacks from the cereal section and both found ourselves stunned to be eye to eye with this guy over the stacks of silverware. So we dubbed him Spoon Guy. Which birthed the famous song in all its naive, cheesy glory. The heart of the story and the week at the conference and my concept of theology as a 16 year old is best summed up in this line: "Spoon Guy/I'm all alone/Spoon Guy/I like your cheekbones/And If I never ever see you again/ There's always heaven."

Sacred Story: Bethany Miller-Winfield

I wrote this as a graduation present for Bethany, my small group leader/mentor/friend who kind of took wide-eyed-freshman-me under her wing during my spring semester at UF. I remember sitting next to her on a train from Birmingham to London and we had some honest beautiful conversation about who knows what, but I just had this moment where I realized I was grateful to have her in my life. Since she was graduating this year, I wanted to write her a song for some reason. It wasn't until Christine and I took a random, spontaneous road trip to Jacksonville to the mall there to get a Build-A-Bear because Gainesville did not have a single Build-a-Bear store and I sat in the back seat with my guitar and finally penned this song. Props to Christine for helping me with some of the lyrics. "I captured this memory of you/put it in my pocket; but a picture can never tell a sacred story"

Intricate: Paulina Calle

I worked in the back section of the UF library, among stacks of dusty, yellowed newspapers. It was my job to microfilm them. One beautiful October Day, my co-worker Paulina came waltzing in, exuberant about the perfectly crisp, blue skied- weather we were having and gushed, "I'm in love with the day." I so loved that line, I spent the rest of the day in that dimly lit camera room writing a jazzy, chill song in my head. "Love is intricate like that/it pierces the hand that has chosen and woven the threads...I'm in love with the day/I don't want to move/but I know I can't stay/Let me be/in love with the day"

Silhouette: Amanda Cooley

Every November, Amanda and I had this ritual where we would go to downtown Gainesville for the annual Art Festival. We wandered around, drank Billy Bayou's cream soda (endless refills), checked out our favorite pottery section and just generally soaked in the weather, which never failed to be stunning the day of the art festival. Amanda had gone through a lot one particular year, in regard to health and heart problems, and I have all these memories of seeing her weak and sick one moment, then bursting with energy and life the next. I love the line from Anne Lamott's book Traveling Mercies that says (paraphrased) that God is in the business of doing "alchemy," of taking something common and unremarkable and making it golden. I loved the idea of alchemy, and I saw it expressed in Amanda's life. "Silhouette of beauty yet to be/This rumor of You making all things new/is coming true."

Autumn Rain: Max Lee and Chris Small

My piano studio buddy Max lost a friend of his in a car accident a few years ago, and I wrote Autumn Rain to kind of commisserate with him in the confusion and sense of loss he was experiencing. Even though I had never met the friend who had died, his story and watching him deal with the loss affected me deeply for some reason. A few months later, I lost my good friend Chris in a car accident. Even though I had written Autumn Rain prior to his death, I still felt like that song also belongs to Chris. We miss you, Smalls. "I'll be okay with unfair this time/'cuz you're dancing on air/and I'm wondering if I'll get to dance with you there/Where the world's like the rain/and the rain is right again"

Soni's Song: Chalis Stefani

My friend Chalis spent several months working for a missionary organization in Haiti. I remember she wrote this beautiful letter, describing her friendship with a young boy named Soni. Although the Creole-English language barrier was significant, they still connected through other ways. As Chalis was preparing to leave Haiti to return to the States, Soni spoke to her in Haitian Creole the words "Le ou prale msonje ou/domi pa kontan/domi pa kontan." In English, this means "When you leave I will remember you/And I will sleep and be sad/Sleep and be sad."

Nobody Needs to Know: Sydney Schaef

The very first time I met Sydney, we worked on writing a song. I guess you could say that first encounter set the tone of our friendship for the next few years. We were constantly sharing songs with each other, asking each other for feedback, bouncing ideas off of one another. I think, more than anyone, Sydney has affected my songwriting, in terms of lyrics. I learned a LOT from her. Oddly enough, I had never really written a song inspired by her until this one though. I wrote this after she shared with me a really hard truth about herself. I so appreciated her transparency and penned this song later that week. "Your laden heart darkened my door tonight/Poets can dream/prophets can sing/but I can only scream inside/I can hear you now/I can see you now."

My Favorite Things (the remix): Jeanne Cannon

Okay, so Rodgers and Hammerstein may have written the music. But I take pride in the fact that I was able to come up with so many alternate lyrics. So Jeanne was having a really rough day at work, and I thought of this past Sunday morning at First Watch, our favorite breakfasting joint, when we all pretty much broke our self-imposed "no sugar" rule and delved into sweet Tea and Coke like it was nobody's business. Leslie joked that we should re-write My Favorite Things to list all our favorite things via song. And we have many, many favorite things. Some might call them addictions. Anyway, I took it upon myself to do just that, and have forever immortalized a beautiful Sunday morning brunch in a song. "Dancing and shopping and buying new shoes/Scrabble and Scramble and games you can't lose/Aviator glasses and Bret and Jemaine/Just some of the good things that help keep you sane/When your job sucks/When boys are lame/when you're feeling sad/just simply remember your favorite things/and then you won't feel so bad"