Ramblings from the Desert

The man who trades freedom for security does not deserve nor will he ever receive either. ~Benjamin Franklin

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Location: New Mexico

Author of the urban fantasy novel, The Music of Chaos, and the paranormal romance, The Canvas Thief.

Thursday, October 20, 2005

Lost And Found

Three weeks? Three frickin weeks until the next new "Lost?" Argh.

Once upon a time there was a lovely young woman named Sun. Her hair was black as a beetle's carapace and just as shiny. Her almond-shaped eyes were the deepest brown, because that's the cliché manner in which Asian eyes must be described.

But fair Sun had a problem. In Korea marriageable women were like Olympic metals--gold, silver and bronze. The youngest and least educated earned the coveted gold. Well-educated Sun was a silver and in danger of degrading to the dreaded bronze. Soon, the only men who'd marry her would be...unemployed doormen.

A matchmaker was called in. And lo, she found herself in the presence of the Korean Lex Luthor. Lex was suave, sexy and oh-so bald. In the tradition of all criminal masterminds, Lex had a fine liberal arts education--Russian literature from Harvard. Mesmerized by the brilliance of his shiny skull, Sun soon (heh) was dreaming of a bright future running a worldwide empire of evil with young Lex. (Sun's papa was a crime lord; the apple didn't fall far from the tree.)

Meanwhile, the Korean Superman, son of a farmer, er, I mean a fisherman, was making his way in the big city. Superman was humble, hardworking and kind to puppies and incontinent children. He was, however, the sort of fellow who bought expensive clothing, wore it once and took it back. In lieu of a gig at the Daily Planet, he took a job as doorman at a posh hotel.

On a fine spring day, Sun and the magnificent shiny one, Lex, were having lunch. Alas, Lex was an insensitive male. With nary a twinge in his cold, cold heart, he leaned toward our heroine and announced he would like to marry...an American woman he met at Harvard.

Crystalline tears welled in her almond-shaped eyes and heartbroken, Sun staggered out of the hotel and made her way to the river walk. Foolish but ripped Superman (seriously, look at him--Wow!), fired for letting riff-raff in the hotel, also sulked by the water. Thanks to blessed serendipity, the two beautiful young people collided, spilling the contents of Sun's purse.

Ever the gentleman, Superman apologized and started to help her collect her scattered belongings. Seeing Superman reaching for her Little Rocket vibrator, Sun scrambled to collect her things. Their eyes met and...


That's it. That's where the story ends. Somehow this all ties into Sun's current quest for her wedding ring. Yeah, I get it; it's all she has left of Jin. But this has to rate as the weakest parallel back-story in the history of "Lost." Very little happened--trend, much?

Michael runs off into the jungle in search of Walt. Jin learns a few new words in English: "you," "find," and "Walt." Yoda-Locke dispenses sage advise to Sun. (I'm waiting for him to spit out the old chestnut--"If you love something, set it free. If it doesn't return, hunt it down and kill it.") Shut-Up Jack manages to squeeze in angst in a story arc that has nothing to do with him. In a particularly delicious scene, Jin makes uber-bitch Ana look like uber-twat when he calmly out fishes her. Burn baby, burn!

Random whinging and observations:

*Mr. Echo is the Bizarro Locke. He's black, he has a full head of hair and yet he's the BackEnders' Yoda and learned man of the jungle.

*Will Ana and Kate play nice? My husband's hoping for a girl fight and lost clothing.

*Is teddy bear-carrying Other actually Walt? Will the teddy bear be an exploding teddy bear? Exploding toys are cool.

*WTF is up with Kate and the messages in the bottle? She mutters something about not saying goodbye--to Sawyer?--and paws through the messages. Eh?

*Was that Michael sucking face with new blond woman in the previews?

*Who will join Boone in the big Island in the sky?

Three weeks, sheesh.


Graphics and Content Copyright © Patricia Kirby 2005