I have to hand it to the writers. I don’t know about anyone else, but I’ve found the past two episodes in a fucking row! to be engrossing like woah. Ignore the fact that the side stories continue to underwhelm aside from Robocop trying to bring down Dexter and Lumen. The Dexter/Lumen/Jordan chase story has grabbed me by my impressively miniscule genitalia and refused to let go. A certain sadness pangs around my empty gut as I realize that nothing gold can stay, especially a cute relationship between a serial killer vigilante and the woman he saved from a trip to a swamp.

Catharsis. Underpinning this entire episode, and perhaps the remainder of this season’s arc is Dexter’s chase of the impossible. Relief from the murder of his mother. Relief from the murder of his wife. The double-smash of the two female figures he’s cared for the most. As we’ve watched our boy throughout the seasons, he’s struggled with an inability to cope with what’s been done to him. His murder serves, at best, as a mitigation. He never feels completely fulfillment, or complete release from his demons. His dark passenger. His demonic b-boy. Whateevr.

If anything, the show has underlined his hobby’s his continuing fading effectiveness. As seasons have marched, each kill seemed to bring him less and less satisfaction. Cut to this season, and they’re empty loads being blown. No gratification. A rote behavior done with the hope for gratification, only to be filled with Jordan Chase’s accurately diagnosed hole. His killing relief has flat lined.

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