The wife and I finished season one of Homeland last night. If you’ve been foolishly or triumphantly avoiding the show, just stop. Give in. It’s glorious:


Don’t worry I won’t spoil anything and PLEASE don’t spoil the other seasons for me.

That’s the trouble with watching shows behind the power curve. Even the posters advertising subsequent seasons can be huge spoilers. For example, I know the main characters of my new obsession are alive because seasons 2 and 3 exist. That does kill the tension a bit.
But I’m willing to risk it.

There is a certain kind of pleasure in devouring a show multiple episodes at a time. Really settling in to the story line. Feeling like you know the characters. Acutely experiencing their stress and their joy. That’s how we caught up to Mad Men and Breaking Bad. It’s how I immersed myself in The Walking Dead. Close the blinds and order a pizza – there’s no chance I could stop after just one.

Maybe this inclination reveals a weakness of my character, a true lack of patience. I don’t want to wait a week to find out who survived or what’s around that dark corner. Perhaps this joy places me right in the middle of that modern condition I so love to mock. The generation of cell phone checkers and facebook addicts. Then again, maybe I’m just overanalyzing a TV show.

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