It's back! This is, of course, the last season. Cuse, Lindeloff and Abrams better do right by the audience that has stuck by the show up to this point. I'm not the most die-hard fan girl out there, but I know that the last thing anyone wants to see after all of this amazing storytelling and character development is some lame, cop-out ending (*yes - I'm looking at you BSG!).
Awesome LOST-themed artwork from Mattson Creative
**Unfinished sentences happen when you try to Blog at work...
6 comments:
what are you expecting? it won't ruin it for me cause I'm lost about Lost.
I dunno if I'm necessarily *expecting* anything, per say. It's the journey, more than anything. I just know that this has been, in my warped little sense of the rightness of the universe, almost the quintessential show. It has had almost all of the elements that I'd try to write into a story, if I had that kind of ability. Of course, as I said elsewhere, they could always cop out thusly: the Smoke Monster is made up of thetans (as opposed to nanotech, as I'd like to think...) - and Tom Cruise is the mysterious, eponymous Jacob. And the Losties are not dead, or in purgatory. They're just lower-level Scientologists in need of auditing. The whole show has taken place in L. Ron Hubbard's mind. Something like that would make me put my fist through my tv. Sort of how I felt about BSG at the end of that show's run...
BTW, I'm a little tipsy, and getting drunker by the minute. I am going to try to participate in a Live-Tweet of tonight's episode, but I have serious doubts I'll be able to type at that point...
I liked the unfinished-ness.
tipsy? NO FISTS THRU TV!!!! its bad for the knuckles.
well enjoy your tweeting. I flipped past it earlier, and thought of you.
yes, Palin never left middle school. quick, write it while you still can!!! when shes prz, we'll have to move to the Yukon, where she'll hunt us from the white house helicopter like wolves.
She goes rogue. I go native. She pulls a semi-automatic outfitted with laser scope and night vision - I pull a finely honed knife whittled with reverence from the bone of my spirit-brother the Elk.
That is the American way...
ilike.
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