[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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I have to briefly apologize for the oddity of this week’s LOST recap. I’m boarding a bus Wednesday for the New City of York, and I have to pound this out tonight. That’s what she said. I generally write this at the apex of a caffeine rocket, filled up with an energy drink and three or four Diet Mountain Dews. As well, I take screen caps as I go along flipping through the episode to gather my thoughts. So I’m without the episode at hand, I’m tired and generally content, and I feel rather blase.

Like LAX, this is the LOST recap you’ve come to know and love. Just a little different. Next week will be back to the usual.

I dug the fuck out of this week’s episode. I really did. By the end of it, I wasn’t really certain what was going on, but it seems like the veil of LAX is beginning to crumble down around the alternate reality, courtesy of some gorgeous Scottish hands. Shit is getting more and more complicated, and I’m going to get a priapism from all the romantic ideals and science-fiction bonery. I’m sold man, sold man like woah.

I knew shit was poppin’ off when Charles “I’ve Got a Powerful Chin” Widmore stuck Desmond into that hut with all the crazy fucking coils and shit. The whole scene smacked of Dr. Manhattan and Watchmen, and I couldn’t help but think homage as Desmond stood in the middle of the room and began to glow like a motherfucker.

You have to admire such a pack of nerds and their ability to stuff their television show with a zillion references.

We find Desmond in LAX, and we all know that it’s merely a matter of time before he begins to ask himself what the fuck is going on. Note the first shot of Desmond in LAX is courtesy of a reflective surface. If you took a shot of whiskey every time the show uses a mirror or a puddle of water or something equally reflective to transition between the real Island and LAX, you’d be drinking at least once an episode. That drinking game wasn’t the best thing I’ve ever thought of, okay?

Much like on the Island, Desmond spends his time in this episode trying to save Charlie’s drug-addled ass. And once Charlie plunges The Constant’s sexy car into the ocean, it triggers the OMFG Moment you knew was coming but were secretly excited for anyways.

Desmond flashes back to the Island, and then snaps back into LAX, after witnessing the superimposition of Charlie’s hand on the glass underwater with his death on the actual Island. This coincides with Charlie’s earlier commentary on having witnessed the “truth” after nearly dying.

So wait, LAX is a construction? An intentional fabrication? Awesome.

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Kudos to Pepsibones for bringing this to my attention.