What Are We Gonna Do With All This Trash?: Questions Brought Up By The New “Lost” Promotional Photos That Will Most Likely Also Go Unanswered

January 07, 2010

Questions Brought Up By The New “Lost” Promotional Photos That Will Most Likely Also Go Unanswered

Where’s Desmond?
Will the character of Desmond face the same fate as Walt, Mr. Eko, Libby, Matthew Abadon, and that lady who was the Others’ “sheriff” in exactly one episode (interesting characters who we’re led to believe are important to the story arc but that are abandoned haphazardly)?

What’s Claire Doing Here?
Isn’t she dead? I mean, she is, right? I guess this leads into the whole “what happened when the bomb goes off” conversation: will the series reboot to the beginning, meaning everyone who we’ve seen die will be alive again? I hope not. I may finally have to call bullshit on this show.

The Last Supper? Really?
I know this show is rife with religious iconography and subtext, but this seems like overkill. Interesting to see that Locke is Jesus in this scenario and not Jack, but not very interesting.

God, Are We There Yet?
Honestly, I love “Lost” without reservation, but there are many lingering, bothersome questions I have that I doubt will be answered by these final 17 episodes.

Get ready to be befuddled, people.

1 comment:

Scrap Heap Pete said...: Hmmm... I sense a very cautious, if not pessimistic, tone from you about Lost that I don't think I've ever seen at this magnitude.

I mean, this season is gonna be the best ~17 hours of television, ever. No future tv show will ever even approach its level of greatness. Am I right?

But yeah, this picture sucks.; 5:44 PM

Post a Comment

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.