How much do you need to know about LOST to feel fulfilled? I ask you this question. Tomorrow night we’re getting an episode tots dedicated to Jacob and MiB, and I’m worried. Why? I’m worried because I don’t need to know their entire backstory. I really don’t. In fact, I think I would prefer if they left parts of it in the dark. Seriously.

I don’t need to know about the midichlorians.

Do you?

Listen, I’m totally cool if we’re given an episode where we see Jacob and Smokey’s intellectual duel throughout the decades. Centuries even. They’ve shown in the teasers what appears to be little Jacob and MiB running around all snotty-nosed and covered in grime. And that’s cool.

But there’s a difference between demystifying a character and showing character interactions, you know? I don’t need to know specifically how long MiB and Jacob have been on the Island. I don’t even need to know literally what Smokey is, or how he got there. I don’t know, am I the only one?

I don’t need to know about the midichlorians.

I’ll give the writers some credit. They’ve pulled off two enormous reveals to my satisfaction. They’ve told me what Smokey was, and what the purpose of the Island is, and I’ve loved both of those reveals. So why am I being so pessimistic? Perhaps I’d love the backstory between the two of them.

I could!

I really could.

But I don’t know, something about having to put the pieces together myself seems more interesting. LOST has always straddled the line, or uh, is it lines between a) telling us nothing b) telling us too much c) telling us enough to figure it out ourselves. It’s like the television equivalent of the Four Corners or some shit.

But I don’t need to know how Smokey got to the Island, I don’t even need to know how many bodies he’s taken the form of, or if he was ever truly human. I say let that shit sulk in the dark, away complete exposition.

I don’t need to know about the midichlorians.

Where do you stand?

Ohhh shit! How do you feel about the LOST finale getting another half an hour? I feel fucking fantastic!

via slashfilm:

Tonight it was revealed that ABC has agreed to extend Lost’s series finale by an extra half hour. The final episode will air on Sunday, May 23rd 2010, from 9:00pm to 11:30pm. The overrun will push back the local news, and the previously announced “Jimmy Kimmel Live: Aloha to Lost” post-finale special will now air at 12:05 a.m. ABC will also be airing a two-hour retrospective on the series titled “Lost: The Final Journey” before the finale.

I’ve accused the LOST writers of dragging their feet this season. And yet, I’m happy they’ve been granted this extra half an hour to tell their story. Sure maybe they fucked up, wasted too many episodes. Or maybe they’re painfully deliberate and I don’t enjoy it. What I do know is that I’m glad they’re being given this extra time to tell the story they want to.

Also —-

I can’t believe this shit is really over soon. Sad face. Tears in eyes.

A couple of people have mentioned that I didn’t talk about Lapidus in this week’s LOST recap. It’s honestly my bad. When you’re shitting out 1,400 words, sometimes you get a little LOST in the woods. LAWL.

Seriously though, he’s the fucking man. And forget Sayid’s death, if Lapidus died last night, the dude was done a serious disservice. One moment he’s kicking ass, the next moment he’s getting blasted with a door and then there’s no mention of him. He’s a sexy old bastard, and I while I liked him most with shit-stains on his wife-beater, I appreciated his skeevy 1970’s flight attendant look just as much.

If you think Lapidus can’t survive a sinking ship, you’re short-changing him! He’s alive. Probably straight chillin’ in the Foot. Mackin’ on mackerel.

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.

Read the rest of this entry »

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?

Read the rest of this entry »

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.

Read the rest of this entry »