Archive for February, 2010

BBSee I Told You It Was Awesome

February 23, 2010

The Olympics has really ruined tv, I’ll tell you what. Apart from Nip/Tuck, Big Love, SLAT and One Tree Hill everything else is on a break. I realize that four hour-long shows comprises many a person’s whole tv schedule (or even more!) but I am no ordinary tv blogger.

At such lulls I tend to make it up by consuming whole seasons of shows, and nothing goes down easier than British half-hour comedies. At only six or eight episodes per series they’re only a slightly longer commitment than a movie, which is a double-edged sword, since I often end up wanting more. As is the case with The Inbetweeners and (I can already tell, though I’m only 3 episodes in) The Beautiful People. Both are shows about teenagers (my favorite kind of show), misfits in particular (my favorite kind of teenager). The Inbetweeners has the distinction of being the show that made pedophilia surprisingly hilarious.

Even though the characters would be supremely irritating in real life, I find that I’m really rooting for them to procure booze and get laid– they’re much better at the first.

The Beautiful People is, in some ways, a much broader comedy, but a) teen gays, can you argue with that? and b) who couldn’t love a character who won a lifetime’s supply of generic gin by composing the following poem:

Gin gin, where do I begin.
Having you inside me
is like an old friend popping in.

Brilliant.

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The Mother-Daughter Dance

February 19, 2010

The “action” of this week’s SLAT was the Mother-Daughter dance. Even the show knew it was a failure… the only person dancing was Blossom (who is like, seconds from toppling her boobs out of that sad Rodarte for Target looking dress)!

The rest of the tunage was Taylor Swift’s “Love Story” on repeat until Blossom both rips off Mean Girls and compares high school to Holocaust. It’s basically the most offensive thing I’ve ever seen on tv. Apparently the lesson of the Holocaust is that girls should be nicer to each other and that women have the power to end all wars.

Godwin's Law! Godwin's Law!

Then everyone does the hora. Hey, it’s like dances at my high school!

The condom drama continues. Riddle me this: Amy is a huuuuuuuge slattern who is obviously open for business all over town for having one condom (and, hello! She’s already been teen pregnant once, that shit’s just prudent) but Ashley has a whole dedicated condom cozy but no one blinks twice at that shit. I carried a condom in my purse and had one in the car for 3 years before I ever had sex. Sometimes girls who worry over prepare!

I thought we were going to have a revelation that Madison’s mother isn’t really dead based on this conversation:

Lauren’s Mom: That dead parents club, has given her a really great place to vent. She and Jack started a club for kids whose parents are… dead who need a place to vent. They meet all the time!
Madison’s Step-mom: That’s not true, that can’t be. They might be meeting but it’s probably not about dead parents, it’s probably about sex. Oh I don’t think there’s a real club called that.
Lauren’s Mom: The dead. Parents. Club. Yeah.
Madison’s Step-mom: No, I don’t think Madison would be in anything like that.
Lauren’s Mom: Madison is having sex?
Madison’s Step-mom: Well… kind of?

Doesn’t it sound like Madison’s mom isn’t really dead? If that happens, YOU HEARD IT HERE FIRST. (I don’t know how that would square with last week’s heart to heart, but if Madison’s step-mom thinks having sex means you aren’t still grieving, then how does she explain the popularity of funeral sex?)

Grace is mooning over Ben, and S.S. Officer Adrian disregards this and pledges to fuck Ben to spite Amy because Amy *might* be having sex. I am annoyed, because Adrian is right to be suspicious of Ricky, but I’m kind of surprised that she’s dicking over her best friend like this, but I’m team Gradrian for life.

Amy: Nothing’s wrong with me. Something’s wrong with Jimmy. And with Ben. And with any other guy that doesn’t like me.

I couldn't have said it better myself.

You hear that, doostyn? Something is wrong with you. Amy is just ludicrously unself-aware. Everyone hates you and your only redeeming quality is your shiny hair.

Everyone in this town needs to stop saying “I love you” in pizza. Unless they’re going to send me a pizza too. Don’t bring pizza unless you’re going to share with the whole class. And stop ruining cribbage for me, Ben.

One Tree Hell

February 19, 2010

So One Tree Hill‘s been having an odd season. Some of it has been fun– like the John Hughes episode, or the fact that Jodie Sawyer of the fine film Center Stage is someone’s dead wife’s ghost/secret tennis star doppelganger and some of it has been terribly dull, like anything involving the nine trillion extras for whom we are suddenly meant to care. (Miranda and the new bartender, Brooke’s menswear designer, teacher Lauren). When it seems like fucking Mouth and Millie are main characters, well that’s a far cry from two brothers in a basketball rivalry, especially since one of the brothers is gone.

But mostly the show is really uneven. These are the two promos for next week’s episode:

Sad!

Wacky!

So basically I think next week slutty actress Alex will have sex with Haley’s dead mother and then Brooke will stalk off set while Julian broods.

America ___ Me

February 13, 2010

I was watching Models of the Runway last week (which, long sidebar: I find it incredibly boring, and yet for some reason I keep watching it: it’s not like I don’t have enough stuff watch– what’s that about? Basically I think they need to just devote five minutes of Project Runway to the model eliminations and any intrigues that might crop up because it’s sad but true– those girls cannot be interesting for a full twenty minutes.)

Anyway, one of the models, Alexis, took on the role of devious conniver this episode, talking shit about other contestants and telling the other models they should fear elimination, while she herself will never be dropped. It’s obnoxious in a way that reminds me of something said about academia– that the politics are so bitter because the stakes are so small. Seriously, what does winning Models of the Runway get you? It’s an even shitter America’s Next Top Model, winners of which are not even working regularly, much less “top” modelling. In a confessional, after behaving like a mean girl, Alexis is all: “Don’t hate me. I’m trying to play a game here!”

Ah. So you’re that contestant. The “Just Playing the Game” contestant. Closely related (indeed sometimes concurrent with), but not identical to “I’m not here to make friends” contestant. I am always surprised by the popularity of “I’m not here to make friends.” Surely they know that this tv appearence will top the google searches any future employers do. Do these manipulators think it reflects well on them for their real life that they’re demonstrably vicious backstabbers who have a proven inability to work in harmony with others? (This, btw, is the biggest reason I was annoyed that Michael Voltaggio won Top Chef. He was a total doucheface to other contestants whenever there was teamwork. Part of being Top Chef entails being a good restauranteur, which involves good management skills which are counterindicated by alienating your staff if they happen to be gasp! women or older.)

One of the other models, Kasey, interviews about Alexis’s attempts to shit-stir during pedicures (Alexis basically tries to get everyone to say they think Sarah, a friend of Kasey’s should be worried and will be sent home). Kasey is indignant: “Even if you think you know who’s going home, you just never say it!”

Time’s tv critic notes that The Real World first came to our tvs in February, 1992, meaning that today’s 18 year olds (for instance, the Jersey Shorians) “have never known a world in which hooking up drunk in a house paid for by a Viacom network was not an option.” That kind of thing makes me feel ancient.

As Kasey’s comments indicate, we also now have rules of ettiquette that everyone is supposed to know about how you behave toward fellow reality tv contestants, even though most of us will never find ourselves on tv. In fact, I feel like most people I know have an idea of which reality show they’d like to be on(for me it’s RuPaul’s Drag Race as the secret lady contestant) and which contestant they’d be (I have no illusions, American would love to hate me, though not because I was taking a nap in the corner Tyra, you ingrate).

Some of these rules are just tweaks of real world ettiquette– be a good loser and a gracious winner, but it’s complicated by the fact that when cameras are trained on you 24/7 there’s nowhere to retreat to to lick your wounds. Even in leisure time (like say, getting pedicures at the salon) you have to behave professionally and refrain from gossip if you want to avoid a shunning.

There are other areas, though, where I feel like reality tv contestants are puzzlingly naive. Why do so many contestants show up to Project Runway with poor construction skills? It it were me, as soon as I learned I’d been cast I would be learning how to use a professional sewing machine and make men’s wear and plus sized patterns. Why doesn’t anyone ever think to do this?

Or: why do people lie to their signicant others when they cheat on camera? On The Real World: Las Vegas Alton and Irulan began a full-on relationship even though Irulan had her boyfriend, Gabe, back home. She was seen making phone calls to him assuring him that everything was fine. Why bother lying? Did you think MTV wasn’t going to use that juicy footage? More recently on Top Chef Hosea and Leah made out despite having significant others and they inexplicably lied to the camera and said they had simply flirted. Why bother? Is everyone just a lot drunker than they seem to be?

Taking it! Personally!

February 12, 2010

May I offer you wine and a cigarette like they do in Fraaaaaaahnz? Red wine has all those cardiovascular benefits, that’s why I drink to much of it! That and needing a little something to wash down the inconsistencies and inaccuracies of Secret Life. This week’s episode is titled “Let’s Try That Again,” but I’m serious, absolutely nothing is tried again.

Amy has the worst friends, but really, no worse than she deserves. They taunt her at her locker about how her dad won’t go to counseling with her mom so the Juergens will tater totes get divorced, plus Amy’s probably a bad kisser, which is why she can’t get a man (even though Amy has at least three dudes chasing her at a time). Why is Amy friends with these people? Instead of telling them what they can shove and where Amy is all: “If I were a bad kisser we [Amy and grocery lad] wouldn’t have made out for two hours!” Okay, I remember being a teenager, but now that I’m a wizened old crone I feel like, “Who has the time for multiple hours of making out?”

As I typed to Doostyn in medias res, what is with this show and its relentless attempt to improve America’s sexual self esteem with straight up LIES like “Everyone’s a good kisser” from this episode or “There’s no such thing as bad sex.” It’s not true, and hoes like Ricky and Adrian should know this, but they’re the ones peddling these lies! (Though it’s worth nothing that whorishness is a matter of attitidue, not of fact, as shown in this handy chart of who’s had sex with whom on SLAT. Note that Ricky and Jack have the same number as do Adrian and Grace’s moms. Also, Grace has dated all the male leads now, so she’ kind of ho-ier than Adrian.)

Ricky disappoints me by offering to makeout with Amy for practice. RICKY. No. Do not offer to practice kissing with Amy when you are going out with Adrian. It’s both hurtful to my favorite character and too good a thing by half to happen to Amy (who fucking sucks, in case my opinion isn’t clear. And Anne’s not much better, she’s like, Amy’s elder indecisive whiny clone).

Now, marvel as the writers of this piece of trash can’t remember what happens in this very episode, never mind from week to week. Grace arrives at school and sees Blossom the guidance counselor putting up posters.

Grace:What is that
Blossom: It’s a poster. [LOL duh.] I made it myself. [How nice for you!] It’s for the mother daughter dance. It’s sort of a ritual I like to do in the springtime. [Jesus Brenda Hampton, she’s Jewish not Wiccan.]
Grace: We always have a father daughter dance.
Blossom: I know there’s usually a father daughter dance, but mother daughter dances are always interesting and usually fun. I started switching our dads with moms, oh years ago… Something going on with your mom? The new boyfriend?
Grace: He’s not a boyfriend, just some younger man she’s seeing to embarrass me. Her husband, my father, hasn’t even been dead for a year.
Blossom: It’s a year of mourning with the protestants? [Oh don’t try to lure me in with Protestant bashing, I’m wise to your baits and switches.]
Grace: I don’t think there’s any rule.
Blossom making sad face: Oh so, it just hurts? [Abrupt switch to happy face.] Life is for the living.
Grace: Not without respect for the dead.
Blossom: That’s kind of what this is about, the mother daughter dance.

It is? What? Huh? But… how? Time for shameful admissions, this episode actually touched a nerve with me. My Mom died a couple years ago and my Dad is dating again, so I really feel for Grace this episode, since I am constantly forced to bite my tongue from bitching him out about not showing proper respect for the dead, so I might be projecting here but YOU SUCK JANE MANCINI YOUR HUSBAND DIED LIKE FOUR MONTHS AGO WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!?

That’s probably enough of the Kanye caps. Grace storms off the main office without getting Blossom’s signature who twoshadows (like foreshadowing for a scene that’s too close to create any tension) that Grace will be back. Madison is waiting in Blossom’s office to bitterly vent, and for a moment I find her sympathetic too, which is generally a sign to ask me if I’m feeling all right.

Madison: We need to talk about this mother daughter dance. you know, some of us don’t have mothers. It’s wrong, it’s just wrong and it’s awkward for me and for anyone else like me who’s lost a mother to death or divorce or career or whatever.

You had me and then you lost me Madison. When your parents are divorced or your mom has a job (!!!!) your mom is still around. It’s really NOT AT ALL like she’s dead, Jesus.

Blossom: Your mom passed away?
Madison: Five years ago.
Blossom: Did your dad remarry?
Madison: What does that have to do with anything she’s not my mother.
Blossom: What’s her name?
Madison: I call her my wicked stepmother, he calls her Emily. I don’t want to dance with her.
….
Blossom: How long has your dad been married to her?
Madison: Three years. And they dated a year before that. Just a year after my mom died. At least I think it was a year. They could have been going out longer.

Oh jeez. Girl I feel you on all of this shiz, except that my Dad has yet to marry the Wicked Queen. Expect petulant internet rantings if that does come to pass though.

Blossom: Might be time for the two of you to get to know each other. [WHATEVER BLOSSOM I’LL GET TO KNOW HER IN HELL!]
Madison: Well, my father and I have an agreement. I don’t have to get to know her as long as I ‘m not rude to her.
Blossom: Tell me about her.
Madison: She flirted with my dad, and she conned him into marrying her and then she took over everything in the house and she ruined my life.

Did she make your father take down pictures of your mom? That may or may not have happened in SOME OF OUR childhood homes.

Grace, Lauren, and Amy all show up to the office for reasons of contrivance. Amy’s shitty friends pressure her to have her parents go to counseling with Lauren’s dad. Grace is cranky. She snaps at them all to butt out (frickin’ finally) and storms out, where she runs into Adrian all: “Leave me alone. I’m late, I have to get to class. I don’t have time to talk to you, I wish I had never talked to you.”

Turns out she’s mad because Jane Mancini is talking about marrying the young guy. Now, when did Grace learn this in relation to the earlier scene which also took place in school when Grace denied he was even a real boyfriend? Did Jane Mancini come to the school and take Grace aside in the hallway? Who knows! Not the writers, certainly. And like, Jane Mancini sucks here, but I don’t know why Grace is taking it out on Adrian who can’t possibly have done anything. (Although later it seems she has psychically divined this info.)

Now the Mancinis are at home and Jane is trying to justify her extreme faithlessness and disrespect for the dead by being all: “People who are happy in marriage get married right away after their spouse dies!” Grace bitches that no one asked whether the children were happier. Jane is all: “Grace you’re hardly a child, and Tom is hardly a child either.” For once, truth! Tom is like 30.

We finally meet Jack’s mom, and it’s Vampire Pam! The greatest vampire in recorded history! She summarizes Jack’s situation with all her awesome: “He’s choosing between oral sex with a fun redhead and a chance to go all the way with a mixed up blonde.”

The weekly telephone montaging begins. Why doesn’t this show understand that watching people talk on the phone is increeeeeedibly dull. Apparently even Adrian and Ashley talk on the phone now. Doostyn points out “It’s like they, too, watch the show, and are like ‘oh we’re on the same show, maybe we should talk some time?'”

Ashley bitches about how no one wants to know how her date with the creepiest pizza delivery man on earth went. (Yeah, I skipped a week and so we didn’t talk about that, but it was UBER creepy with creepy pizza guy being all “Let’s go to your dark isolated back yard yes….. You’re all alone you say?”) Adrian hilariously comforts her: “You’re young and you’re strong Ashley.”

Jeez, is this Lifetime? Ashley snaps back: “I’m what, a year younger than Amy and two years younger than you.”

Madison has apparently gotten over her stepmother issues, as she makes an excuse (algebra) to hang out with her and talk about oral. Wish I were kidding. I don’t think I’ll ever get there with the Wicked Queen, nor frankly, do I want to.

We learn from Jane Mancini that Tom and Betty stay in touch and Jane is all snobby about Betty. Whatever, Jane Mancini, Betty is the best thing about this show.

All the dudes come over to “talk to” Grace. Ben and Jack sort out who owns the little woman in the hallway.

Ben: This is a stupid idea. When I couldn’t get Grace I texted—
Jack: You texted me and when you didn’t get me you thought I’d be over here so you came over been there. And you did call Adrian and she told you that Ricky was over at Amy’s– she called Grace. they really are friends, they fight but they’re friends.
Ben: Yeah I did talk to Adrian. And then I talked to Ashley because Adrian wanted me to talk to Ashley. I really wish I hadn’t talked to Ashley.

Jesus Christ. If there’s one thing more boring to watch than telephone conversations it’s a discussion about telephone conversations. (Perhaps I’ve compounded the boring by blogging about it. Oops.) Anyway, Ben wishes he hadn’t talked to Ashley because she presumably told him that she saw Ricky and Amy making out.

Now for the most random thing of the night, Tom busts in on Grace and Jane’s heart to heart, all: “I love Tammi and asked her to marry me. Just kidding! I am not getting married to Tammi, I’m going to wait for Adrian.”

That thought makes me ill.

Ashley closes us out with some sage words to Anne about wanting her to come back. “You know how it with babies, they either push you together like Amy and Ricky or pull you apart like you and dad.”

Fucking Babies. If there’s one thing they are, it’s conniving.

The Biggest Love of All

February 10, 2010

Big Love get in my double vagina.  You is lookin’ somethin’ fierce and I want you inside me.

You are the best show on television.  Oh it’s a bold statement I know but just try to make me take it back. It’s out there now.  It’s on the table.  Deal with it.

All I wanna do is make love to you (by which I mean of course pick you up on the side of the road on a rainy night, have you shoot jets of your virile juices all up in the biznatch, write you a cheesy poem about flowers and seeds and gardens and trees before leaving you in the middle of the night, meet up with you years later, have you recognize the face of YOUR OWN CHILD and then explain how I actually love some other dude but other dude’s sperm count was really low and I needed a baby really badly.  My own little pregnancy pact.  Is that too much to ask?).

[Confused?  Pay very close attention to the lyrics, and all around awesomeness, of this seminal, or perhaps semenal, zing!, anthem]:

I want all of you to be my collective lover.  That’s right, multiple lovers, polygamy, polyamory, sluttiness, call it what you will, it’s my choice and I choose my choice.

Margene you have such bang-fusing-with-side-of-hair-into-frightening-ball-of-crazy-on-side-of-head issues, but you know who you are and you make no apologies. You’re all (to your fellow sister wives): “So what, I need lots of sex because I have a giant sex drive, soooooorryyy if I want to fuck one of our sons.” Not exactly word for word, and yeah, there’s some ick factor (lots actually) but sometimes you gotta just tell it like it is.

Nicki, you have a teenage daughter and you rock so hard at the having of one.  Remember when you brought her to D.C. and were calling random passers-by sluts, but also trying to broaden your daughter’s horizons a bit, let her bun down a little, and then she told the security guards you had a gun in your purse and things got a little nutty?  I do.  I have it on video.

Barb, precious, sweet, “the sugar has hit the fan!” Barb.  What can I not say?  Your tears are my fears, because gurrrl when the water works are on I get weak.  Tearing up because daughter Sarah is running away (in a different dress than your admittedly plain and boring but SPECIAL wedding gown that you wore to your own wedding back when it was just 1 + 1 = still Mormon weird but not 3 wives weird) to get married at the Justice of the Peace, which is so not celestial.  Yeah, that worked on my heart strings.  Sweat it out in that lodge honey, and snatch yourself some hot Native American ass when Mormon Jesus isn’t looking.

Oh Bill.  Misogynist.  Polygamist.  Sexing with the nurse while your wife has cancer then pretty much forcing her to sign on to this “principle” of yours that means lots of B.J.s from different mouths for you and lots of B.S. from all directions for your ladies.  You’re invited too.  I felt for you this last episode, having hotheadly exiled your son, realizing your mistake too late, revealing a law-breaking past, speechifying about tolerance for those with different beliefs than ourselves for the sake of humanity.  You have my sympathy.  Quick get in on this love before I find you skin-crawling again.

Okay now that we’re all comfortably in my double vagina, tell me: We get a fucking planet to rule over when we die?  Awesome, tater totes in on that shit!

Bye Bye, Betty

February 7, 2010

So! Ugly Betty is canceled after this season, I can’t say I’m sorry. The show started out so well, it was one of my favorite shows in its first season. I think it was honestly one of the most progressive shows on tv, with a sympathetic trans character, such a glorious gay teen, and obviously a very diverse cast. (“Did you look at me when you said Kwanzaa??”) But it was pretty clear in the second season that the writers hadn’t made much of a plan beyond the first season, because it got really, really bad and basically turned in “What boy does no longer so ugly Betty want to kiiiiiiiiss?”

That said! This week’s episode was surprisingly awesome, and that’s all at the feet of Varla Jean Merman. I’ve mentioned before that a boozetube favorite film is 2003’s Girls Will Be Girls, a dragtacular piece of awesomeness about how hard it is for a gal to make it in Hollywood. (“Us busy girls have it hard hard hard hard hard hard hard hard hard enough!”)

Varla has graced the small screen before in the Project Runway drag challenge which she won! (Yes, technically her designer won, but he was kind of a douchebag and a ‘phobe, so we’ll give her the win.) Her part, actually, was small (though large in my mind!). She’s a drag queen pal of Claire’s who watches Wilhelldiva Hater’s final drag performance, which is, actually, performed by real Wilhelmina, who is having a ball, er blast! Something non-testicular.

I love drag, it’s a surprise to no one (and if you’re not watching RuPaul’s Drag Race, well, shame on you, it’s awesome. “This is RuPual’s Drag Race not RuPaul’s school for girls!”), and I extra love drag that’s inclusive of women, who, after all, are also performing gender. Maybe sometimes we want to pile on the false lashes, push our tits up, and lip synch to Man Eater. Maybe some of us want people at the club to look at us and say: “That’s one foxy dude!” The other thing that’s awesome is that Wilhelmina ends up having a change of heart, but not one that makes her less bitchy, just one that helps her use her bitchiness for good and couture. And that’s the kind of resolution I can really get behind.

No More Trains to Baghdad, Please

February 2, 2010

Last Train to Baghdad 2 6×20

The second installment was actually much more boring than the set-up.

Sam foolishly consults with Jennifer about her crush on Jeff Baylor. Jennifer advises her to indulge her crush, since it will probably pass, but obviously Jennifer has an ulterior motive. We see a Jo-esque photo shoot involving Jeff throwing shoes in the air. Why? Who knows! So they go on a date to Jeff’s favorite pizza place where everyone fawns all over him, since apparently he made a park for the little leaguers. Sam gets a wettie, and I crave pizza.

Meanwhile, “Christine” makes a toast to Kyle and Amanda at their rehearsal dinner at Taylor’s bitchy behest, but she ends up running off in tears, mid-speech. Kyle inspires that in me too, “Christine.” In other failing relationships, Lexi hears the incriminating tape and ends up leaving Peter, putting a crimp in Megan and Coop’s relationship.

Kevin Federline makes a deal with Michael that he will take care of his “legally challenged” friends in exchange for a few hundred dollars and some referrals. Later on K. Fed comes in with a friend named Paulie with a gunshot wound. Michael tries to call the paramedics to take Paulie to the ER, but K. Fed pulls a gun on him to get him to deal with it personally. Michael tries to back out of their deal but K. Fed assures him that he will “learn to appreciate” him. Having seen the rest of the season, I can assure K Fed, it isn’t so.

Megan comes to meet Michael because she’s lonely, I think, and some random people hold them at gunpoint, but K. Fed intervenes. Michael thinks he set it up, whether or not that’s true is unclear.

Wedding time! Amanda’s wedding dress is INSAAAAANE. It has a plunging neckline and fur collar. I long for PETA to splash her with paint at the altar. Taylor gives Amanda a picture of her and Kyle on their wedding day for her something old. Something borrowed is her husband. On the way out the door: “By the way—your dress is hideous.” Love their feud. Also, Taylor’s a little bit right.

Kyle is running late to his wedding because he found “Christine’s” suicide note, that she’s going to “catch that train” and end everyone’s suffering. He calls Amanda to ask her to stall, but she is not having it, which I love. She’s just like, “Call the cops or something.” “Christine” is sitting in her car on the tracks. Again, why? This seems like a huge risk for a con. Kyle pulls her out of the car and she tells him she loves him.

Jennifer, proving the adage that you can’t scheme schemer, tells Sam that the suicide has ploy written all over it. Sam shares that she and Billy haven’t boned (excuse me, made love) in weeks. Hurrah! Jennifer advises she restrict her Jeff actions to flirting.

Nick shows up to “Christine’s” hospital room and they bone in the hospital bed. Comfy! “Christine” also bitches that it was a close call. Yes… again, seemingly too risky, but what do I know. Also, I would soooo rather hook up with Nick than Kyle, but I’d probably take secret option three: neither.

The LOST finale is upon us!

February 1, 2010

I’m not going to lie, I’m pretty stoked about that. In part it’s anticipation of amazingness, but in part it’s relief that I can retire this series that has, yes, brought me joy, but has also irritated the FUCK out of me over the years. (Also… a three hour broadcast? Are you kidding me? I feel like things are expanding beyond my comprehension. Will our grandchildren be sitting through 6 day premieres?)

I won’t miss the constant cliffhangers (just write a good show and I’ll keep watching it, GOD) nor the enormous cast of characters, nor the way to on the nose character naming.

But I will miss thinking about time travel paradoxes, free will and predestination, and men of faith vs. men of science. And I’ll REALLY miss Demond and Penny and Sun and Jin. I don’t know what I want to happen to conclude the series but if these couples don’t end up together and happy I’ll feel pretty crappy.

Everyone else deserves what’s coming to them.

In anticipation, a few losty links!

First, LOST Characters Explain How to Make a Sandwich:

Locke
1. Sit idly by, believing that the ingredients will find a way to make a sandwich out of themselves
2. Lose faith and make the sandwich anyway
3. Realize that you were the instrument by which the ingredients chose to make a sandwich after all
4. Run around the room and grab everyone’s knives, insisting that their sandwiches will do the same in time

But it’s ALL brilliant.

Then, a musical review of our questions, via.

Why didn’t the Dharma initiative automate that button pushing? What a terrible system!

And, most awesomely, LOST, recapped by someone’s extended Italian family.

“All right, he lives ovah in that foot ovah theyah.”

Happy LOST Eve!