By Kelly Rausch

My husband (and loyal reader) once asked me why I choose to write so often about crummy television. More often than not, I’m usually writing about low-brow fare, guilty pleasure reality shows and unintentionally hilarious nighttime soaps (ah, “Melrose Place” remake, we hardly knew ye).

Honestly, I’m lazy, and it’s a heck of a lot easier to take cheap, easy shots at the bad stuff than to try to find something thought-provoking and intelligent to say about the really good shows. So while I may not bring anything new to the praise chorus surrounding HBO’s “True Blood,” I sure can sing along.

Like so many cable series, seasons of “True Blood” are shorter. Each of the first two seasons was only 12 episodes compared to the 20-plus of most network shows. The wait time between seasons is therefore longer. It’s been nine months since the last new episode, and while the short “minisodes” HBO put on their website recently were a fun appetizer, it was time to get on with the main course already.

Last season ended with the destruction of Maryann, the evil maenad who turns the citizens of Bon Temps, La. into black-eyed, hedonistic animals. You’d think saving the townspeople and getting everything back to normal would be enough action for an entire lifetime. Au contraire, mon ami. Before last year’s season finale could roll credits, heroine Sookie Stackhouse discovered her vampire boyfriend/would-be fiancé had been kidnapped.

Sunday’s episode picked up right where we left off, with Sookie running around like a crazy person, trying to find her beau. Shapeshifter Sam continues to search for his family. Eric, the area’s vampire sheriff, is still menacingly attractive. Tara’s mom is still a terrible mother, hitting on the preacher she brought in to minister to her traumatized daughter. Some things don’t change.

Even though Louisiana consistently ranks as one of the most obese states in the union, nearly every single person on this show is incredibly toned, ripped, cut, jacked and whatever other aggressive adjectives men’s fitness magazines use on their covers. I suspect very few carbs are consumed at the craft services table.

But aside from being so pretty to look at, these characters face conflicts within themselves and with those around them. The appearance of werewolves at the end of the season premiere introduces a new enemy to replace last year’s nemesis, Maryann. New vampire Jessica kills her first human in a feeding attempt gone wrong. She doesn’t know what’s worse: taking a life, or eventually having to answer to her vampire father-figure about it.

Even seemingly unflappable Eric is caught between selling V for the vampire queen (who needs the cash to keep the IRS at bay, of all reasons) and the moral implications of selling out his own kind, not to mention the punishment he’d face if caught by the vampire government.

Where other vampire franchises use the attraction of a mortal to a vampire as a metaphor for the emotional turmoil of first love and burgeoning sexual awareness, the inhabitants of Bon Temps are already very much in touch with their sexuality. I doubt there’s a single virgin in the entire parish. “True Blood” takes the familiar vampire/human lust conflict a step further to represent the limits of social acceptance. The envelope is pushed in all directions.

These are men and women, not boys and girls. These are people who have been there, done that. That’s why it’s especially thrilling for them to find something they haven’t experienced before. (This is where I remind you that this airs on premium cable – vampires are passionate, violent creatures and viewers get to see all of that. And when those scenes involve Eric and a lack of clothing, I say a heartfelt thank you to HBO.)

All that being said, don’t let your children watch this. Plant yourself in front of the TV Sundays at 9 p.m. this summer, but make sure your kids are tucked into bed first.