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♫Heee's a lumberjack (or not) and he's okay (or not)....♫ - Blather. Rants. Repeat.
A Møøse once bit my sister ...
♫Heee's a lumberjack (or not) and he's okay (or not)....♫

Either Showtime's messin' with us, or there's something up here.

It's been over two years since Dexter sailed off into the old-growth forest, with Our Hero witnessing the brain-death of his beloved sister, his dispatching of her into the sea, just before turning his boat into the full force of a Big Ass Hurricane and convincing everyone, including us, of his death,....

only to see him turn up, alone and surly. as a lumberjack somewhere in the Great Northwest.

Few loved it. Most, including me, accepted it. Most critics, well, haaaaated it. And the network has gone on to do little in the two years since to rival even that unsatisfactory ending.

So what are we to think when this graphic greeted us two mornings ago:

Yes, there are rumors- and rumors of rumors- that somehow, the network wants its Excitable Boy back. Terms like "reboot" and "limited series" have been tossed around, and there's one killer quote (sorry) from SHO head honcho David Nevins that both limits and intrigues:

Nevins had previously commented that any future Dexter would require the participation of Michael C. Hall (and likely Jennifer Carpenter, who seemed ready to leave Dexter behind during her appearance at the Limitless panel).

"It would have to involve Michael. I would only do it with Michael… It remains to be seen if they’re going to want to do it, if I’m going to want to do it. They never felt like killing Dexter is the right end… If we were to do it, I would want to do Dexter in a new concept and configuration.”


Obviously, MCH is key in any scenario.  There can be nobody else.  But is his ex-costar (and, #awkward!, his ex-wife) either up to another go, or even able to, given where the finale ended?

Why the fuck not?

Our brains were already left at the door, dropped in the water, and airmailed across the country to accept the premise of the final scene.  And no coroner ever pronounced Deb dead, nor did she get her brother's usual signature means of disposal.  So maybe the cold Atlantic waters rebooted her brain-dead system; she swam to shore in a tide of Holy Fucking Shitballs; and she then called Bro at his Private Idaho Love Shack to set up the infinitely improbable System Restart.

At least they won't have to take down a bench put up in honor of her demise.

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