Oh shit! And away, we, go! You know that shit means fucking business on a show when they kill off like thirty-percent of the main cast in one episode. They call it “Last Season-itis”, and it’s typically something I enjoy. There are certain restrictions relaxed for mainstream television during a final season. You can do all sorts of bonkers crazy shit like kill people, or uh, introduce Flash-Sideways, or have Billy Adama puke all over himself in a gutter. Maybe that’s what is so exciting about the final season of LOST, or any other television show: you have no idea what the fuck they’ll do.

At all!

Sure, you can say that every show should do whatever they want whenever they want, but c’mon! Let’s be practical.

Okay, I’m not going to stunt. The death of Jin and Sun got me a little emotional. I was transfixed, yo! My friend Tommy was staring at me as I watched the scene, because apparently I was making retarded faces and had bulging eyes. I can’t help it, I’m a romantic, yo!

Even though I don’t care about the two characters: it got to me.

Even though it was overwrought: it got to me.

Even though once they started speaking the dialogue was terrible as usual: it got to me.

I think it resonated on a certain level because I felt the dilemma of watching the person you love the most in the world drown to death. Like, what do you do when you’re watching your husband or wife drown to death? Can you leave them? Would you leave them?!

Who fucking knows!

Man, it sort of bummed me out. After the episode I was sitting there with Tommy and his Better Half and I was like “OH man! What the fuck would you do! I mean, I know that they had a kid, and it was probably smart for Jin to have left, but can you leave your drowning wife?! Can you! Can you?! I mean, I don’t know what I would do!”

I really don’t.

So it worked. Fuck you LOST writers, you got to me. All I wanted to do after the episode was go over my girlfriend’s house, and creepily whisper in her ear as she slept “never put yourself in the position to drown to death as I watch.”

I wonder what sort of dreams that would give her.

Anyways.

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I fucking love Party Down. I fucking love Snow Crash. If you don’t know what Snow Crash is, I deplore you! I dance in your blood. It’s only like, the dopest cyberpunk book ever. I love Snow Crash so much that I keep it next to my toilet. This way, when I’m rocketing one of my fifteen daily shits, I can flip it open and gander through a random chapter.

So this week, when Party Down referenced the book, I seriously geeked the fuck out. I shook my girlfriend Sam with glee! In the episode, douchey stud Kyle is trying out for the character of Vitaly Chernobyl in some sort of big screen adaptation. Which, of course, sends Nerd Lord Roman into a sort of apoplexy.

It’s a little tugjob to nerds, but it’s worth mentioning, since it’s one of the little things that makes the show so fucking radical, dood.

I can’t tell if I love Damon Lindelof, or if I find him incredibly smug and self-satisfied. I think it’s probably a little of both. So when he drops shit like:

via slashfilm:

If you’re expecting Lost to end with definitive answers think again. The Hollywood Reporter conducted an interview with Lost co-creator-showrunner Damon Lindelof, who revealed that the series finale will “end lost in a way that feels ‘Lost’-ian and fair and will generate a tremendous amount of theorizing.

I can’t tell if I love it, or if I’m annoyed. Lindelof, listen brother. I love you, I love LOST. But this season has been a Shit Hill with diamonds scattered amongst the partially digested corn kernels. So cut the shit, stop acting like you’re the man, and so help me, please don’t blow it. You have five episodes left.

I’m find with theorizing. I’m find with mysteries and unexplained phenomenology. See: Final Fantasy VII [prior to the movie], Battlestar Galactica, and The Beginning of The Cosmos.

What I’m not cool with is Transdimensional Love-Based Denouements, Sappy Heavy-Handed Exposition, and Kate, Sun, Jin, and Claire.

And David Shephard.

I was relieved that there wasn’t any LOST this week. All of my friends, from the Rocking Tommy to Patrick Mars expressed the same relief and satisfaction that I felt. It was nice. So I’m going to kick it to you guys, what’d you do on your night off from LOST this week?

Me? I hung out with my lady. Got home from school, macked on some delicious dinner she cooked (she’s far too good for me, don’t tell her), hung out and watched some sports, zoning out. I returned home, and hit the scholarly articles with a vengenance. I didn’t seethe or grasp my skull in agony or despair.

I may be at the point where I’m ready to call this season a disappointment. Now listen. I think that the show can ultimately rock. The next five episodes can blow my fucking mind. But when 50% of the season has been blegh.com, isn’t that ultimately considered a disappointment? Or do you consider an amazing conclusion a salve for all the chapped-asses that have arisen from Transdimensional Lovecore and other bullshit? I’m actually not sure where I stand on that one.

The week off is probably good for my tolerance of the show as a whole. I actually miss it at this point, despite the last episode pushing my blood pressure to precarious levels. I’m ready to give it a pass if next week brings the heat.

What’d you guys do this Tuesday night? Are you ready for next week’s episode? Does disappointment come from the majority of the episodes being ass, or does it come from it concluding in an unsatisfying manner.

Just because there wasn’t any LOST don’t mean we can’t get some conversation going.

[p.s: watch flashfoward]

Alright, I really think that Flashforward is LOST for mouth-breathers. It’s as subtle as one of my classroom farts, and it has some awful acting.

That said?

That said.

It’s pretty fucking enjoyable. And not only does it have the requisite half-baked mushy science to back up its sci-fi, it’s got some amusing literary references too. Last week saw a reference to The Garden of Forking Paths, a well known short story. And it’s also Pepsibones’ manifesto. No, seriously. Ask him. It’s like, the progenitor of all the hypertextuality Pepsibones will babble about, and to see it referenced in Flashforward made my balls tingle a little bit.

It also doesn’t hurt that the guy who dropped the phrase, Dyson Frost, went under the alias of D. Gibbons, a nod to the penciler of Watchmen.

Flashforward is junk food, but it’s satisfying, and has references for nerds like me. Plus? No Kate. Or Sun. Or Jin. Or Transdimensional Love.

Just saying.

[click for entire screencap]

This is completely and utterly from my friend Tommy Rock. He’s awesome, and this is interesting to me. I also hope it’s proof that I continue to love this show with an unflagging passion, despite it continuing to storm into the house during dinner, slap my face, and then flip the plate of mashed potatoes onto the floor screaming they’re cold and need more milk:

via the rocking tommy:

Remember that shit I said about Jack’s neck being cut in “LA X” and used that as evidence that whatever happened to split the timelines hasn’t actually happened yet? Well, check out this homoerotic screencap I took after Jack and MiB almost got smoked (HAR HAR HAR) by one of Widmore’s explosions. Cut neck, just like in… “LA X”.

For the record, I’m not any less pissed or bitter.

I’ve been so blind with rage lately, I really haven’t stopped to consider the mysteries or puzzles. Maybe I need to rewatch these shitbombs after the rage dies down and actually look for stuff. Or maybe they could just not suck and stop sending me into insanity.

Oh no.

Oh nooooooo.

What the fuck is this giggly shitfest that has besmirched one of my favorite shows of all time? Or uh, what could have been one of my favorite shows of all time. There was a silly, dastardly period of my life when I was concerned that LOST could usurp my previous binky for favorite show of all time. I’d have to do deep soul-searching and come to the recognition that LOST was simply superior, and therefore I would have to accept it as my number one viewing experience.

Thankfully, Damon Lindelof, Carlton Cuse, and whatever sort of sugary assholes they’ve holed up in the conference room while barfing out these last few episodes have taken that worry away from me.

I’ll always love you, Billy Adama. I’m sorry I ever thought I’d have to leave you.

Do you guys know how fucking powerful love is? Yeah, well guess what, you’re about to find out! Christ, it has all sorts of magical powers. Maybe the Island is just a big consummation of Zeus’ love for Hera or some shit. Fuck the Island man, love is totally going to save the day. I mean, check it out, it solves aphasia!

Oh, no. I hope those of you who thought that Sun’s inability to speak the English language was some sort of awesome plot-point could settle for her reunion with Jin.

I was actually feeling Sun and Jin’s reunion. Don’t mistake me for some scabby, jaded asshole. I’m actually a weepy mess. I cry every time I hear Aeris’ theme, every time I watch the Lion King, and sometimes while marveling at the ineffable complexity and beauty of the universe.

Do you know what I do when Jin and Sun embrace? I get a little tingle. Do you know what I do when Lapidus comments after Sun talks that it “Looks like someone got their voice back”? I puke all over myself while clutching my skull with both hands and hope I’m in some Transdimensional Universe where the writers from LOST have been replaced by Lifetime Movie Special assholes.

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Oh sweet Jesus. Just today I was thinking about how fucking aggravated I was about the prequels.

And today, I find out that a sequel to Return of the Jedi was coming:

via slashfilm:

After a fan commented that he “would really love to see new adventures after Jedi with our favorite characters Luke, Han and Leia,” Sansweet replied, “And you will, in the new animation.

BestOfLuckProductions.com (via: AICN) reports that the animated television series would revisit the original cast of characters from Star Wars in post Return of the Jedi adventures, and that “not everyone who dies in sci-fi stays dead.” Apparently we’ll find out what he means in three to four years, but I’m guessing it means that some of the Sith survived. Sounds like a bad idea, but consider the fact that fans are saying that the current animated series, the Clone Wars, is better than all of the prequels combined.

We assume that this series is the same show that was announced a couple weeks back – an animated television situational comedy series written by The Daily Show/Frank TV scribe Brendan Hay and developed by Robot Chicken creators/producers Seth Green and Matthew Seinreich. If so, I seriously doubt any of the new storylines will be considered “in canon.” If we learn anything new, we’ll update the story.

Sometimes I hate existence.

I can’t remember where I found this, but I can’t stop watching it. It’s like a nightmare done stupidly absurd. I like the stupid, and the absurd.

Everybody may love Hugo, but sweet fucking Christ did I hate 75% of this episode. What happened in this episode? Set-up. More set-up. Has anything happened in this season yet? Sure, like, some stuff. But we’re a ridiculous amount of episodes in, and everything is tied around the same dull shit. Really awkward conversations about love and destiny, sitting on tree stumps while trying to figure out what to do, the Devil trying to trick people, and my sitting on my futon trying so hard to love a show that’s really letting me down half the time.

And then there’s these little moments of awesomeness sprinkled throughout the episode that keep me interested. Just enough. It’s like season one all over again. I still have faith that the ending of the show is going to rock my socks off. I promise. But at this point, the terrible fucking turbulence I’m enduring to get there is fatiguing me.

I’m tired of all this speculation, of even dissecting everything, when every episode just comes at us with more set-up. More set-up. Over and again.

Let’s do something different this week, to make recapping what I found to be an abysmal episode more bearable. Bullet points!

Yeah, just smash down the bag of dynamite. Idiot! Savage!
So, if Jacob has a plan for everyone, he planned for Ilana to gather up all the Candidates, and then kill herself by accident? Dude is sort of a dick. I like his swagger. Either that, or Ilana is one of thirty-nine thousand characters the writers have introduced under a certain amount of gravitas and then been like “Uh, never mind.”

The Devil’s Advocate in me tells me she served her purpose, and that her death will ultimately result in them having to govern themselves. Which Jacob probably sort of knew, which makes him a dickbag like I said. With immaculate swagga.

Desmond Drives The Fuck over John Locke!
Alright, this part is awesome, I’ll give the writers that. And yeah, I can’t help but speculate why he would crush Mr. Bentham with his sweet ride. My first thought was the idle hope that running over Locke in LAX would push the departed Locke back into his body on the Island. Then I quickly dismissed this.

There’s also the obvious notion that running Locke over will reunite him with Jack, and they’ll form some sort of tag-team and begin uh…crushing heads…no…no, uh…You know what, I don’t really know what Desmond’s end-game is on LAX. He obviously wants to make everyone aware of their existence outside of The Matrix, but what then? This show isn’t beyond something ludicrous(ly awesome) as some sort of Collective Conscious willing them out of the day-dream.

The Power of Love!
Oh sweet Jesus. The power of love is bringing back memories of the Island. Are you barfing, or do you dig it? My brother Pepsibones really likes it, but he’s also been sick with the Flu, sweating through his clothes every evening. I’m happy he digs it, since he’s a secret romantic, and I feared he had become fully ensconced in his Jaded Shell.

Me? I dig the concept, but probably not the execution. Half of my problem with a lot of this season has been how the writers have handled their themes. Everything seems so heavy handed, and they’ve relied on disgusting, nauseating expository dialogue to get there.

Furthermore, what do you make of it it being dead people from the Island who have had these premonitions of the Island first? Charlie, Libby, and Faraday all seem to have a tighter connection the Island, via love, and they’re all fucking rigor mortis?

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