What Are We Gonna Do With All This Trash?: Making Up For Lost Time (Updated)

August 06, 2010

Making Up For Lost Time (Updated)

This almost makes up for the entire last season of "Lost."

Almost.

Update

If you were too late -- if, say, you did not read this post within 45 minutes of its posting -- then you missed out, son. What the link above was supposed to show you was the leaked 12-minute "Lost" epilogue from the season 6 DVD, showing you a bit of how Hurley and Ben are gonna run things now. It doesn't answer anything you didn't already know or suspect, but it has Michael Emerson being awesome, and it is exactly what the "sideways" story of the last season should have been. It's sugary sweetness is the perfect after dinner mint to get rid of the nasty, bitter, religious aftertaste of the finale. Ah, closure.

I will now never speak or think of "Lost" again. It is dead to me.

P.S. Have you seen "Breaking Bad"? Holy fuck, that shit is awwwwwwwesome.

1 comment:

Scrap Heap Pete said...: I'm pretty peeved that they are going to be releasing all 6 seasons as a super deluxe, full of extras, platinum-plated, box set--while us normal people with fixed and limited salaries are going to be stuck with the no frills individual seasons on DVD.

But the finale still doesn't annoy me that much (as I watched it when it aired and to this day)--mainly because I try keep spirituality and religiosity as separate entities and because 'Lost' is a product of American television, of which I have very low expectations.; 11:46 AM

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A History Of Trash

Trash, at first, was a pretty cool guy. You know, he’d come over with some beers, and you’d hang out and have a couple of laughs. Maybe Trash brought some weed with him, and you guys tried to sync up Dark Side Of The Moon with The Wizard Of Oz until you remembered you lost your VHS copy of that movie sometime in college and that you fucking hate Pink Floyd. Good times were had, nonetheless.

But then, you don’t know what changed, but Trash started to overstay his welcome. He’d just linger for hours, never taking the hint you wanted him to leave, no matter how many times you yawned obnoxiously or mentioned how early you had to get up tomorrow. Trash just didn’t get it. You were getting older. You didn’t have the time anymore to stay up until 3 a.m. to talk about the Port season of “The Wire” or how much you miss Jawbox. Eventually, you just stopped taking Trash’s phone calls and no longer replied to his group e-mails about sneaking into abandoned mental hospitals.

Last time you saw Trash, he was smoking alone outside a local dive bar, looking down at his decaying and mismatched shoes. You hoped he had been doing well. You hoped he had not been hurt by the disintegration of your friendship. And if he had, you wanted to comfort him. You wanted to tell him that even though people move on with their lives, it doesn’t mean they stop caring. You wanted him to see in your eyes a sincere appreciation for the time you shared, because all the relationships in our lives help make us who we are, and even if you weren’t the best of friends anymore, you wanted him to know that there would always be a piece of Trash in your heart.

But instead, you looked away and crossed the street. You were with your new girlfriend, and you really didn’t want to have to explain Trash to her. She’d never understand.