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: Where do I begin? Two hours of supermodels, leaving me as turned on and ultimately frustrated as the first time I laid hands on a Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue.

Ultimately though, I’m just one man who can only really dry-hump one supermodel at a time. So let’s go with the mystery of what brought down the plane. After all, our heroes were never supposed to be on this island. They were flying aboard an otherwise perfectly good airplane from Australia to Los Angeles when all of a sudden the plane lurched and the tail was ripped off. I’m writing this as I wait to board a flight from New York to San Francisco, so I’m thrilled to discuss this at length.

To be honest, the plane mystery hasn’t itched me too much over these past two seasons. I mean, I wondered about it, but this was not a supermodel; more like a decent looking stewardess. She and I flirted on a flight, I gave her my number, but then I kinda forgot about her.

Well, it’s been almost two years, but the stewardess finally came into town for some action. Still, I don’t feel all that satisfied. Certainly not sex-level satisfied. More like handjob-and-dirty-talk satisfied; it felt good at the time, but I have a sinking suspicion my friends are going to tease me for not getting more.

See, the plane was brought down by the island, which isn’t just an island, it’s a magnetic geographic anomaly that violates more laws of physics than Superman and the average Batarang flight pattern combined. This whole time that people have been down in the hatch pushing their button every 108 minutes, they’ve been discharging the growing magnetic force, and if they don’t push the button, well, some serious shit goes down.

This isn’t just some new supermodel. This particular mystery is about as about as intriguing as a supermodel whose vagina is rumored to taste like bacon. It’s not just a hot girl; it’s a hot girl who knows how to talk science, which is about as rare as a goldfish that can juggle.

Okay, but wait. A super-powerful magnetic anomaly? What about the recent evidence that this whole island is some huge psychological experiment? Don’t we already know that instead of a bacon-scented brainiac supermodel, we’re really dry-humping a dude?

Well, maybe that dude is really a chick dressed up as a dude dressed up as a chick. (It’s THAT confusing of a show.) See, during this episode, Locke decided that he wasn’t going to push the button anymore. Locke was the paraplegic healed by the island who believed it was his destiny to push the button. Now he thinks the island is nothing more than some experiment. (He tends to believe in whatever was the last thing he heard.) So he decides not to push the button, and when the timer gets to zero, the resulting shitstorm is on par with that time you called your girlfriend “what’s-her-face” in the middle of sex. (Best. Joke. Ever.) Appliances rip themselves out of the wall, silverware become flying projectiles of doom… cats and dogs, living together, the whole works.

Turns out that the day of the plane crash, Desmond, the guy who was living in the hatch for three years, had failed to push the button on time, and the magnetic burst brought the plane down. And Desmond was only a few seconds to late. When Locke doesn’t push the button, things get so bad that Desmond has to activate an underground “fail-safe” that made the sky go white, made a deafening vibrating sound, and may or may not have blown up the hatch. We don’t know. All I know is that there aren’t going to be any new episodes of Lost for six months, which means we’re gonna be dry-humping this one till November. I have to believe that’s some kind of record.

Anywho, we now know that the plane was brought down by magnetism. So when the stewardess asks you to please turn off your phones and portable listening devices, you’d better listen.

Now as far as the timeline goes, the plane going down was the first mystery of all. So it’s worth mentioning that it’s taken the Lost writing staff almost two years to solve a single mystery that I’ve already said was about as satisfying as a handjob, and as my friend Jeremy says, “Anytime you get a handjob, you know you’re settling.” In a related story, I once dated a girl who wouldn’t have sex with me after our first date. She wasn’t “that kind of girl”. Well, whatever kind of girl she was, she was just fine to bump uglies on date #2. She used to ask me how long I would have dated her without getting sex. Five dates, I think. Yet I’ve spent two years waiting for a metaphoric handjob.

I’m not sure, but I think I’ve just proved that I care more about TV than I do about women. Sorry, Wonder Woman.

Oh yeah, there’s one more mystery I want to mention before I sign off on Lost for a while. During the season finale, some of the castaways, exploring the island, discovered the ruins of a statue in the ocean a few hundred yards off the island. All that they could see was a sandal-clad foot WITH FOUR TOES. The statue would have been at least a hundred feet tall, and from the shape of the foot I suspect it was of a woman. As long as I’m dry-humping this many supermodels, dry-humping one with four toes will be a nice change of pace. Plus, after I dry-hump this one I know I won’t be the only one who’s hard. (Hah! Zing!)