xmlns:og='http://ogp.me/ns#' Yeah. Good Times.: Sweet, sweet relief

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Sweet, sweet relief

It's over. Lost is over. It feels like this enormous burden has been lifted from my shoulders and I'm now free to fly like a bird. A crazy bird made out of black smoke that makes strange popping sounds and you can see faces in it when you look at it closely and then it kills you. Yeah, that kind of frickin bird.

Never again will I hear "come with me if you want to know the secrets of the Island," because I know, now, that I will never know the secrets of the Island. Or will I? Or maybe I already know the secrets of the Island but just don't realize it? Something about a vagina cave that glows a yellow light full of water which keeps evil contained, but only if you keep the cervical plug constantly in place? Or maybe it's about a wheel that makes you travel through time, but only if you push a button every 108 minutes and then cases of food and beer will magically fall from the sky? No, wait! I know! It's actually all about the dog. Vincent is the key that holds the whole thing together, constantly barking in the background (you just can't see him and it sounds like whispering but trust me, it's actually the dog).

And what about all those unanswered questions, anyway? What killed all those French people? Was it the Man in Black, silently corrupting them into killing themselves? And why am I the only person who cares that the Man in Black WAS ACTUALLY WEARING BLUE???? 

That shirt is fucking BLUE, people. IT'S BLUE. CHRIST!  And remember in the early season when Locke and Ben go into the shack where Jacob is supposed to be and you hear a voice say "Help me" ? Who said that, exactly, because it wasn't Jacob and it wasn't his blue clad brother. But, do we care? No, we don't care anymore, because the stupid thing is over and we can get on with our lives with the freedom that whatever questions we still have will never be answered by anybody other than Fan Fiction writers who don't know any more than the rest of us do.

I am now free to live the rest of my life with my head held high, never again being forced to spend the day cursing the writers under my breath because they cut to a goddamn commercial instead of telling us the secret of the Island and then never got back to it (whoops!). Never again will I be frustrated when an arrow comes flying out of nowhere and lands in the neck of the guy promising to take me to the cave which holds all the answers. So, my friends, go off ... go, and live your lives. Your burden of frustration and lack of closure has been permanently lifted. Sleep well with the knowledge that in the end, Jack, in his christ-like wisdom, martyred himself to save the Island and therefore the world but ended up boning Kate in heaven for eternity as his reward. Hurley got to drive around a giant yellow penis car, which is totally necessary in LA, you know, and bright yellow is actually a much better camouflage than you would think. Sayid and Shannon ended up together in eternity because they boned that one time after knowing each other for a week, but not Sayid and his wife, the woman he spent years searching the world for and who died in his arms in the street, because she wasn't on the Island so she doesn't get to go to the church. Locke gets to walk and Claire gets to be sane while Ben has to sit outside on the benches because he's a fucking asshole and deserves to be left out. All we need to know, really, is that it's over. It's finally, fucking over.

UPDATE: Holy fucking shit I knew it! Didn't I tell you?? I FUCKING KNEW IT!!!!


Unknown said...

Let's just pretend it never happened and watch some goddamn Star Trek.

Didactic Pirate said...

Heh heh. I've been walking around with the same feeling you described. I've finally been released from the show. I no longer have to walk around being irritated. My wife says I'll be much more pleasant to be around on Wednesdays now.

Veronica said...

THREE comments now bitches! BWAHAHAHAHAHA!!

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