Confessions of a Blacklist Junkie

Wolf and I started watching Blacklist this fall.

Yes, we were late to the show, but that’s pretty typical for us. In fact, it’s somewhat amazing that we manage to catch a show before it’s been off the air for years. If it wasn’t for the ability to PVR, we’d be totally screwed, because where we live, we’re caught between time zones for when it’s being aired. It’s either on at 8pm, which doesn’t do us a dang bit of good, since that’s when the Middle Minions are going to bed, and impossible to actually watch anything at that time, or it’s on at 11pm, which means Wolf is usually crashed out. Granted, he tends to be drooling, slumped over on the couch more than actually in bed, but asleep is asleep.

So, for Christmas, I bought him Season One of the Blacklist. And yes, it was also because I wanted to watch it too. (Don’t lie to me, I know other married couples do stuff like that. I’ve been around, I’ve heard about it.)

I love the humour of the writing, the way James Spader delivers his lines. Frankly, I’m more into the scenes with his character than I am any chasing and catching of the folks on the Blacklist. Gimme more Red! More Lizzie! (Actually, I’ll be honest here, she can be irritating. More Red! More Red!)

We’re only on disc two, but that’s because Wolf refuses to watch entire discs in an evening. Me, I think that’s totally doable. Given enough caffeine, not bothering to sleep, I’m sure we could manage a disc a night. But noooo, he’s doing the grown up, responsblble adult thing.

Gah! Responsible adult behaviour!

Gah! Responsible adult behaviour!

Me? Given the opportunity, I’d totally watch the entire season, beginning to end, until my eyeballs fell out. Moderation is not one of my strong suits.

One thing has become clear to me, as I watch this show.

Like John Cusack’s character in Grosse Pointe Blank, I have ‘a certain moral flexibility’ when it comes to Raymond Reddington.

I’d like him to be my Dad. Or a favourite niece of his.

Now, hang on, I know what you’re thinking.

Yes, I know he’s a criminal, a murderer, basically a sociopath with no regard for anything but what suits him.

But hey, we all have our downfalls, right? Nobody’s perfect.

But…oh, BUT…those he is loyal to? Those he DOES care for? He will do anything to protect. Including kill for.

What is it like, I wonder, to have that sort of loyalty, devotion? To know that there is one person on the Earth who would do anything to protect you?

Even Reddington’s ex-wife is still under his protection, and considering that most folks would rather that their exes fell off the face of the planet, that’s pretty dang cool.

Yes, I know that I’m talking about a fictional character, in a tv series. I haven’t completely lost all of my mind, after all.

I do kinda wonder about myself though. I mean, growing up, I wanted Pa, from Little House On The Prairie to be my Dad. Seriously, the tv show Michael Landon version of Pa was majorly awesome (reading the books as an adult, I think Pa was a jerkface, dragging his family all over Hell’s half-acre). He was my epitome of what a good dad should be. Loving, kind, patient, funny, strong, caring…yeah, I wanted him for my Dad.

Now as an adult, Reddington?

Geeze. If I don’t watch it, I’m going to hope to get adopted by Dracula next.

Maybe I should just try wearing a fedora.

confessions of a blacklist junkie

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Confessions of a Blacklist Junkie — 5 Comments

  1. On disc two myself. Totally hooked! Loving Spader! Just watched 7 or 8 episodes since last night…. Dyin’ for more 🙂

  2. Pingback: Dear Blacklist... - Not A Stepford Life

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