Ramblings from the Desert

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

My Photo
Location: New Mexico

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

Thursday, January 19, 2006

Lost, The Hunting Party

No one likes being told what to do.

That's the moral of this week's episode. The only people who get it, however, are Jin and Sun.

Early in the episode, Michael, driven mad by the Afro of Lunacy, beats up Locke, steals a rifle and runs off into the jungle for a clandestine meeting with his chat room buddy. Jin, hearing the news, packs up a travel kit. Sun tells him he isn't going. "He's my friend," whines Jin. "I'm your wife," she replies. You can see thoughts moving over his bony face. "Michael is a good guy, my friend. Sun is my wife, purveyor of horizontal entertainment. Friendship vs. Sex?"

He chooses sex, but later tells Sun that he doesn't like it when she tells him what to do. Sun snorts and reminds him she put up with his bossy shit for four years. Jin smiles sheepishly, they reconcile and cuddle on beach.

The rest of the Island, though, fuggetaboutit.

It's official. The writers of "Lost" think we are morons. They pulled out their big character stick and once again whacked us upside the head with the premise "Jack has a God complex."

Flashback, le sigh. (This time we are at least spared Jack's dead marmot wig.) Jack and his father are meeting with a patient, an elderly Italian man. The man is accompanied by his winsome, dark-haired daughter. They want Jack, the miracle man who made his wifey walk anew, to operate on the old man's inoperable spinal tumor.

"She's like a poor man's Catherine Zeta Jones," I observe.

"She's still hot," says the J-Man, tongue unrolling out of his mouth like a tiny, wet red carpet.

Jack agrees with J-Man's assessment and after looking into daughter's big brown eyes, agrees to operate on Papa. Jack's Dad and the audience roll their eyes.

Jack operates. The old man goes to the big spaghetti bowl in the sky. Jack is consumed by guilt. Jack tries a new form of bedside manner, sucking on the grieving daughter's lips. Jack is consumed by guilt. He goes home and confesses his transgression to wifey. Wifey tells him she's leaving. Wifey has been spending a lot of time on her miraculously healed back, and the guy on top of her wasn't Jack. Oops.

Back to the Island. Michael needs a haircut. He's starting to look like those fuzzy pencil toppers. You know, the ones with the big plume of hair; if you twirl the pencil, the hair gets all crazy? Anyway, Michael clobbers Locke. Jack shows up in the knick of time to get shoved in the weapons' vault with Locke.

Defeated by Locke's over-engineered security system--he screwed the ventilation grates closed--the boys sulk in the vault. In the green light, Locke's Yoda quality really stands out.

Ah, but Sawyer and Kate save the day. Sawyer needs his bandages changed and Kate doesn't want to play nurse, so they head for the yellow submarine. After the rescue, Jack, Sawyer and Locke head out to find Michael. And Jack starts telling people what to do. He tells Kate she will to stay home and baby-sit the button. Yelling happens.

Are there hazardous, brain cell-destroying chemicals in operating rooms? If so, I think Jack's been exposed to way too many. Kate gets all "You're not the boss of me," and sneaks after the three Mustysteers.

The three march up the mountain. Sawyer asks Jack why he yelled at Kate. The two exchange unwitty repartee and then Jack says, "I know you love her." "Huh?" says Sawyer. Locke, meanwhile, does a masterful job of ignoring their conversation. I wish I could do the same.

The essence of their journey: Locke repeatedly asks Jack why they are marching into Smoke Monster- and Other-infested jungle in search of Michael. Jack says it's because every time he saves someone, an angel gets its wings.

Funniest moment in the epi: Sawyer calls Locke "Mr. Clean." "All you need is the mop and the earring."

Then it's a dark and spooky night and in the midst of another argument, Zeke from the Others shows up. Wardrobe went all out on Zeke, using leftover lint from last week's corpses to fashion a fluffy beard. Jack blusters but Zeke's brought all his torch and pitchfork-waving kinfolk

Zeke's also captured Kate. See Jack, maybe if you'd asked her nicely, she would have stayed home and listened to "depressing" (nod to Sayid) music with Charlie and Hurley. But nooo, you pissed her off and now she's a hostage. Zeke draws a line in the sand and tells the boys that it's the border between OtherLand and You Don't Know Jackville. Cross it and die. (Another order, coupled with a threat.)

In exchange for Kate, Jack, Locke and Sawyer have to give the Others their weapons. No guns, no Michael, no balls, the four return home.

Jack's angry. Back on the beach, he finds Anna-Lucia and starts talking war. See the Others have weapons of mass-destruction. Of course, Jack and company gave them some of those weapons (the guns), but no matter. Because nobody tells Shut-up Jack what to do.


Charlie's hopping off the wagon next week. Yippee! If there's anything more annoying than an addict, it's a recovering addict. Next thing you know, Charlie will write a memoir, over-inflate his story and
still feel the Oprah love.

Do we really need to encourage Anna-Lucia's drill sergeant tendencies? As we learned today, people don't like taking orders. This will end...poorly.

With all the pending, impending and possible Island love, one wonders, is the Yellow Submarine well-stocked with condoms?

Where's Eko? Where's Sayid? Fuck Jack.

BTW, "Battlestar Galactica" is my new fave show. But I don't have cable, so I'm still a season behind, watching on DVD. Best aspect of BG? No Jack.

Happy Thursday.


Graphics and Content Copyright © Patricia Kirby 2005