So, LOST ended. I know! LOST! I thought I was totally over it, you guys. I was like, “this is a show about attractive gentlemen who take their shirts off on a tropical island; also, there’s some sort of sci-fi thing going on; also, Daniel Faraday’s dead, so there’s no reason to care any more, especially not about the sci-fi thing; still, folks not wearin’ shirts! That seems fine!” Granted, they still had Daniel Dae Kim’s freaky/perfect face (dude is constructed of angles! NOTHING BUT ANGLES) and Josh Holloway’s similarly freaky/perfect torso (WHY ARE HIS SHOULDERS THAT WAY) to maintain some intrigue, but ultimately, we all gave up on LOST a long time ago, yeah? And then all was revealed, and what was revealed was the dumbest plot twist ever predicted by a LOST discussion board, and/or me, as a joke, because it was such a stupid plot twist (“IS EVERYBODY DEAD?” Uh… yes. Apparently) and in this light, my REVELATIONS about what I have been up to lately cannot help but be less disappointing than the television series LOST. As long as I tell you that you have not dreamed this entire blog, I am ahead of the game, really!
So, here are my revelations: I’ve been writing about LOST. For example, on the DoubleX!
Of the many bad decisions on display in last night’s Lost finale— that weird Sixth Sense ending, the lack of resolution for the show’s mysteries, Dominic Monaghan wandering around in skin-tight vinyl—perhaps the most telling was its opening: Five straight minutes of melancholy white people. We start with Jack, a white man; we pass it off to Ben, a white man; from Ben we go to Locke, a white man who is also occasionally a smoke monster; we visit Sawyer, a white man, before going to Kate, a white woman—hey, a woman!—sitting in a car, shortly to be joined by Desmond. For those who haven’t seen Lost, a spoiler: Desmond is a white man.
Lost didn’t always look like this. When it first aired, in 2004—trigger your inner airplane noise, we’re going on a flashback—it seemed like one of the more progressive shows on TV.
Every time I thought Jack was dead — like when Locke beaned him with that rock — I got so happy. And then I learned they were going to drag it out for the entire episode. Jack gets to die AND process the fact that he’s dead AND he gets a special So You’re Dead Now party with all his friends AND he makes a cryface about it. EVEN DEATH will not stop Jack from whining!
And then, excitingly, I wrote something that was NOT ABOUT LOST AT ALL. Yes, it’s true! I wrote about why I am such a dick, and get in fights with people. On The Awl!
Oh, the shouting! Oh, the insults! Oh, the many and various accusations, most of which, in recollection, make no sense whatsoever! I said she had internalized misogyny and cared more about protecting liberal party lines than about human decency; she said I had internalized classism and behaved “like a character from the movie Mean Girls;” I made fun of her for the Mean Girls reference, which didn’t help, and at some point, long after the conversation had transcended the bounds of sense-making, she said that she wanted to talk about how terrible I was with my boyfriend, at which point I got out my phone and started yelling, “Let’s call him! Let’s call everyone I’ve ever fucked! Let’s ask them how much I hate poor people!” And I would have called them, too (“So, we dated from December of 2007 to February of 2010. During that time, to the best of your recollection, how many hobos did I set on fire for kicks? WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT’S FOUR IN THE MORNING. THIS IS EXACTLY WHY WE DID NOT WORK OUT”) but then I started crying, and the whole thing just went completely off the rails.
As I stood up and walked outside for a cigarette, at this point visibly sobbing, she called out, “I look forward to reading about this on wherever it is you blog.”
Yayyyy, The Awl. Yayyyyyyy, DoubleX. Yayyyyy, no more LOST. Yay for fighting! Yay for revelations! YAY, for everyone. Except for you, because you have to click on all these links to see what I’ve been up to! CLICK ON THEM ANYWAY. Click on them right now!