Underpants On The Outside

Lost has a habit of setting up dozens of mind-boggling mysteries and solving NONE of them. My friend Jordan, whose use of imagery is nothing short of genius, describes the experience of watching the show as frustrating as “Dry Humping a Supermodel”.

This week’s supermodel:  The Hatches

Ah, the Hatches.  It’s taken me too long to get around to this particular hotty, who we’ve been dry-humping like dry-rabbits for some time now.   On a hotness/frustrated at dry-humping scale, the Hatches rank higher than the POLAR BEAR on a tropical island, but slightly lower than the fact that the tropical island heals people like E.T.   

The hatches are a series of underground bunkers complete with electrical power, food supplies and bizarre computer equipment.  Oh yeah, and a shitload of guns.    When the castaways found the first hatch, there was a mildly crazy-seeming man inside.   In a special room in the hatch was a bank of 70’s-era computer banks with spinning reels of magnetic tape, a computer terminal in the middle of the room and a timer on the wall.  When the timer got down to ten seconds, an alarm sounded and the crazy guy entered a series of numbers into the computer, hit enter, and the timer reset.  When they asked him what he was doing, he replied “oh, just saving the world.”   Here’s your supermodel; you know the drill.  (Don’t ask me which numbers he typed in.  I’m still working on that supermodel, but the next time we’re making out I’m going to tell her I love her.  Then she’s guaranteed to sleep with me.  There’s no way this could fail.) 
 
Then the crazy guy showed them an “orientation video”, where a guy dressed up like a doctor welcomed them to the “Dharma Initiative”.   The video says that it is of vital importance that the button be pushed every 108 minutes, but of course he doesn’t say why.  Thanks.  I feel much more oriented.  Don’t even bother learning this supermodel’s name.  Just dry hump her and move on to the next. 

Here’s why everyone I know would not be welcome on this island.  Immediately after the video, somebody would ask “wanna find out what happens when we don’t push it?”  Everyone would agree.  OG would then grab a rifle and designate himself High Arbiter of Button Protection, threatening violence (both Theoretical and Literal) on anyone who dared to touch the button, despite the fact that everyone already agreed not to touch the button.  Then everyone would start trying to take the computers apart, except me.  I’d go get a snack. 

I also understand why everyone’s kidnapping kids, which I will explain mathematically:

Kids + Buttons + Rules = Dad’s Broken Computer.

Even though the video mentioned nothing about “the world” and “saving it”, the crazy guy assures everyone that the world was depending on them to push the button.  Then he slings a rifle over his shoulder and takes off.  Where’s he going?  Why doesn’t he feel any more responsibility for saving the world?  Please, we have a lot of supermodels to dry-hump here; we’d appreciate it if you didn’t bring over any new ones.  In his defense, he’s spent the past few years sleeping no more than 108 minutes at a time.  I’d probably be a little twitchy too.

Well, the castaways, particularly Locke, immediately agree that it is their duty to push the button, which is a little odd.  Before he got to the island, Locke was conned by his father… out of a kidney.  You’d think he might have filled the empty kidney space with, y’know, some skepticism, but nope! He believes in the button more than anybody.  Hah, hah, he’s so gullible! 

We were introduced to the first hatch at the beginning of the second season, by which time we’d already dry-humped our fair share of supermodels.  The experience had left us bitter and faintly reeking of scotch.  When the hatch came along there was a distinct “oh great, here we go again,” feel to it, but we were powerless to resist.  It’s just like that time I bought Axe deodorant.  Intellectually, I KNEW it wasn’t going to get me laid, but…what if the commercials were telling the truth?

Oh, if only that were the only hatch.  A couple weeks ago, Locke was hanging out waiting to push the button when blast door suddenly dropped from the ceiling.  Black lights came on revealing a map on one of the doors.  On the map were several hatches, positioned around one central hatch, with a bunch of crazy notes in Latin all over the place.   Just as suddenly the blast doors retracted.   If I were dry humping a chick and she pulled up her skirt and flashed me a glimpse of her Hot Pocket, then covered it up and acted like nothing happened, I’d be pissed.  Just because it’s a TV show doesn’t make the behavior any more forgivable.  Not cool, Lost writers.  Not cool.

Well, a few episodes ago we saw one of these other hatches, a deserted, pseudo-medical, pseudo-creepy-nursery-for-detaining-kidnapped-children—facility, leading up to last night, when we got ourselves a look at the central hatch. 

It was also deserted, except for a wall of TV monitors, one showing a feed from a hidden surveillance camera inside the original hatch.  There was also another orientation video.  In this central hatch, operators were to monitor subjects in the other hatches as they performed tasks they BELIEVED to be vitally important.  This is why I wish I could have been a psychiatrist in the 1970’s.  As much fun as it is to put five beetles and a frog in a jar to see “who wins”, it’s a lot more fun when the beetles are people…same with the frog…and they’re not in a jar; it’s more like an island, or… a prison.  (Hypothetically speaking and all in the name of science, of course.)

The most frustrating part?  We’re still left with mysterious hatches.  It’s the same supermodel, we’re just playing dress up.  Ooh, look!  She’s dressed as a (not very) naught cheerleader!  And now a (not very) naughty schoolteacher!  And I’m supposed to get all excited?   Of course!  And I did!   DAMN YOU TO HELL, WOMAN! (Yes, I’ll call you tomorrow.)

Every Wednesday night at nine, I should just put on a pair of oven mitts and try and solve a Rubik’s cube.