Thwack and kapow! Smokey this week laid down the meanest of pimp hands I had seen in a long god damn time. It was honed to a perfection that only living for hundreds of years can give you. I mean, I’m sure we’ve all imagined giving a pimp hand at some point in our lives. For some reason, the idea of slapping someone across the face just seems enjoyable. It’s probably all the television and violent cartoons we were raised on.

Smokey has officially begun to freak me the fuck out. While I’ve never been on the “This Guy is Sweet, Jacob Is Dick” train, if I had been, I would calmly requested that I be let off at the next stop after this week. I mean, I know that Claire is insane, and she has shitty hair, and she builds baby cribs out of animal skeletons and shit, but if you missed the foreshadow that pimp hand wrought, yeah I don’t know what to tell you.

You want to bring that Jacob is a deceiver heat? Get the fuck out of here. Smokey is just as grand a manipulator as Jacob, and how! I mean, seriously. Jacob presents people with choices, offers them destinations. Smokey gives you the illusion of choice. What MiB spits is tantamount to “I’m not here to tell you what to do. But if you don’t come with me, I’m going to smash you into paste as a billowing cloud of crackling smoke.”

Yeah dude, freedom of choice right there.

Stop! Sawyer time!

Smokey spent this entire episode using the oldest trick in the book: divide and conquer. If you wanted insight into how he’s able to manipulate people with impressive effectiveness, just check out what went down. Smokey takes everyone aside and beguiles them with sugary promises and rhetoric. He’s good man, he’s like, real good. In a revealing conversation with Kate, the dude even lays out how he bent Claire to his will. He gave her someone to hate, and by hating them, she really worked out his objective of throwing down those dickheads who lived in the Temple of Doom.

His methods are awesome, and I say that with no sarcasm.

It’s continuing to all be so Locke versus Hobbes that if you’ve missed it by this point, I don’t know what to tell you. The appeal of MiB versus Smokey at this point isn’t really deciphering their motives, but watching them play out. We get it, yo. Free Will and the belief that humanity will do a solid versus the whole Humanity is a Dung Heap and needs to be controlled. Yep, got it. I got it a season ago. But you know what? I don’t give a fuck, I’m a philosophy geek.

There’s something so alluring about Smokey; but there’s always something so alluring about the darkness. The promises of what ever you want. I’ve seen Star Wars though, I know how this fucking shit ends. You fight Mace Windu in some shitty office apartment, and then you sire a son who kills your crippled ass. I mean, do we really think that Smokey wants to get them off the Island? That he really cares about them? I sure don’t. But I also think there’s really some uncomfortable side to Jacob, the God that Failed.

Insert Clever Sawyer Witticism Here

Poor Sawyer. Even in LAX, he’s haunted by the demons of Anthony Cooper. Sawyer’s a tricky cat to peg on LOST. He always seems one step away from either redemption or full blown moral collapse. As the episode unfolded in the main reality, we saw Sawyer once again walk this tight-rope over the precipice. And as usual, there really was no denouement. I really have no idea which way Sawyer is going to go on the Island, other than apparently back with Freckly McHussy. Oh god dammit, Kate.

I dug how Sawyer is a undercover detective, which means that even in LAX he’s a con man who gets to sleep with tons of women. His monologue explaining the thin line between criminal and cop was interesting, even if it smacked of a thousand cliches.

As a brief aside, last night I realized something. Sawyer has to be a genuinely hunky dude. Why? ‘Cause if he wasn’t, we would totally fixate on his hair. I mean, it’s fucking dumb. It’s all like, flinging around and awkward, and I can’t tell if maybe it’s a mullet, or maybe it’s just oddly coiffed. But it ain’t usual. No sir. I was watching him clunk about the detectives’ offices and I was like, what the fuck? How did I not notice that hair before?

But yeah dude, what are you going to do? I need to know. The world holds its breath. Maybe there will never be any resolution for him, maybe he’ll always be torn by those demons. If LAX a reflection of the consequences of one’s behavior on the Island, it would seem fitting that Sawyer is once again pigeonholed between happiness and totally byronic brooding. You go ahead and seethe, Sawyer. It’s what makes us swoon for you.


Let me ask you something. WHERE THE FUCK IS FARADAY!?

Everyone has fucking shown up in LAX save for my boyfriend. I need to see him. We’ve seen fucking Artz, Charlie’s dumb brother, Boone. What the fuck is this dog shit. Last night we got Charlotte. But no mullet-rocking fucking physicist? Who is so adorable in his quirkiness? Kiss my ass, LAX. I want to put up some fucking Scorpions, sit around with Faraday, and have temporal abnormalities affect my perceptions of reality and give me nosebleeds and crap. It’s hogwash.

Also, I can’t help but feel that it’s almost too convenient that everyone is showing up. They’re all concentrated in Los Angeles? It really makes me wonder if this isn’t some bubble reality that all of the people involved on the Island are somehow transported to.

Everyone, save for my boy.


I had a huge nerd moment when I saw them constructing new pylons outside of Widmore’s submarine last night. I think I’m some dumb ass character in a deities’ play. You know how when you read a play, and there’s this character that is super expository and just yells the obvious shit out? I think I’m becoming that guy. ‘Cause last night when they flashed to Widmore’s guys, who look like the dorky staff from an Intel commercial, I had to exclaim “They’re raising up pylons! To keep Smokey out!”

I’m fucking useless.

But seriously, what’s up with Widmore bringing a bag of dickheads to protect him? Where are the fucking ninjas? Why didn’t he bring like, Keamy 2.0? Seriously, a bunch of nerds with shitty plaid t-shirts trying to wield guns? Is anyone besides Smokey playing for keeps? I was unimpressed with Ilana and her posse, and I am doubly unimpressed with Widmore’s. There’s no robot mechs, there’s no green berets. Just dorks. Fuck.

It’s going to end poorly for him. Do you remember Locke’s posse from a couple of weeks ago? They walked in slow-motion. With torches. That shit is fucking legit.


The man himself though? Widmore? This dude is fucking legit. His glare can reduce a man into a quivering ball of liquefied man-meat. I don’t know if I fear this man, or if I would willingly give up my butt to his calm demeanor. It’s probably a synthesis of the two. His interaction with Sawyer brings about puzzles though. I was confused when he brought a bunch of accountants to to be his bodyguards, but he can’t actually be duped by Sawyer, can he? I mean, c’mon dude. You should know better than that.

What’s Widmore up to? I’ve posited that his rightful place as head of the Others was ganked by Dr. Linus, the dweeb to end all dweebs, but besides that? Who is this dude rolling out with? Is he straight chillin’ with Jacob? Or is he some third-party, looking to gank the Island for himself. He’s interesting.

There’s a storm comin‘, Ani!

Huggy Hug

Kate and Claire hug. Literally no one watching cares. I commented to my brother and friends I was watching it with that I was hoping Claire had C4 strapped to her. It would have solved a lot of problems. Forget Smokey, you know what? Kate’s vagina is the Grand Deceiver. Seriously. Her whispering eye is a force that cannot be avoided. It’s like the One-Ring. No seriously, there’s probably something insanely Freudian about that. Sawyer’s already been tricked into being drawn into her vaginal orbit. That may be because its’ been blown out and what is left is a dark vacuum-based ravaged meat.

I don’t know what that even means.


Miles is awesome.

So Cute

Zoe is ridiculously arousing as the sun-kissed librarian with gratuitous cleavage.

The Terrible Twosome

That’s pretty much the episode. Kate is still a slutbag who cries too much. Sawyer is still a brooding conman who can’t get over his demons. And there’s still some epic clash that is unfolding before our eyes. Jacob versus Smokey, Grudge Match Stylee. Oh yes, there will be folding chairs and tacks used. This shit is going to be vicious!

One more thing before I let you leave this prison of prose-based nonsense. Was anyone else confused by the final conversation between Sawyer and Kate last night?

Kate: Who is going to fly the plane?

Sawyer: Freckles Freckle Face, we ain’t taking no plane.

*Cue dramatic stare*

Kate: Can I suck your cock…I mean, huh?

Sawyer: Chief Freckles Freckle Sugah Freckles, we be taking the submarine

Huh? Is Sawyer secretly trained in the art of submarine riding? Aiiiiight, okay? Sounds good!