True Blood

She insists she’s not into anything having to do with vampires. Yet, we’ve just gotten her all caught up on “Battlestacked Galactica” up through season 4.0, which has rebroadcast on HD channels, and there’s an hour to SNL. Fine, she says. Let’s try your damned vampire show.

After the first episode, well, she says, we have to see if Sookie Stackhouse gets rescued. Let’s watch another. I warn her that they’re all like that, they each and every single solitary episode will end with a cliffhanger. I’m trying to warn her that she is on the slippery slope to actually enjoying this vampire show.

Soon, it’s 3 a.m., and she resigns herself to continuing our marathon the next morning.

I am warning you. HBO’s “True Blood” is more addictive than V-Juice itself.

It is an interesting show to watch, too, in the shadow of having just been steeped in BSG. There are similarities, the otherworldly natures of the protagonists, do they sleep, do they dream, do they breathe, do they eat? An entire netherworld exists within each narrative filled with characters we instinctively fear and loathe and yet find ourselves sympathetic, that, perhaps, the similarities outweigh the eerie differences. So watch this fine program at your own risk. You will not be able to turn it off.

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“103,” The Whispertown 2000, Swim