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.”

As I mentioned in my engagement recap, I was unable to watch Lost on Thursday due to unforeseen reveling.  In fact I wasn’t able to get to it until Monday night - hence the lateness of this dry-humping.

About a year ago, Lost’s producers announced that the show would only run for seven total seasons.  I believe I’ve mentioned it before, but this was genius.  When a show like this continually throws weird shit at you, one starts to suspect that they don’t really know what they’re doing; they’re just including the weirdest thing they can think of, and they’ll figure it out later.  “What about a polar bear?”  “Sure, why not.”  “Wait - a polar bear on a tropical island???” “Hell yeah - I like it.  Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out later.  Or we’ll go on strike.”

By slapping an expiration date on the show, the producers let everyone know that they would not just be coming up with increasingly outlandish shit for as long as the public was stupid enough to watch it (cough, cough - 24 - cough cough).  Whether or not they actually have a plan, I believe that they do, so once again I’ll buy whatever it is they’re selling. It’s like I found myself at the end of a two-hour marathon dry-humping (I don’t even real hump for two-hours - THAT’S HOW GOOD THE SHOW IS!), and just as I’m rubbing Cortaid on all my chafed parts and texting my friends “no, not this time either,” the supermodel patted me on the head and said, “Don’t worry.  I know we’ve been doing this for three years, but I’ll make it up to you at some point in the next four.” Keep in mind she hasn’t said WHAT she’s going to do to me anymore than the producers have said “don’t worry, we know exactly what’s going on, and once you do too, you’ll realize that it makes complete sense.  In fact, you too will be able to raise polar bears and smoke monsters in your own backyard, using nothing but everyday cleaning products!”  In other worse, I could be waiting four years for the metaphorical equivalent of a wool-mitten handjob.  The things I do for my Underpants readers…

This week’s supermodel: new people

Even before the producers announced the seven year timeline, the show had already established a countdown clock: there were 48 survivors, and they just kept dying.  If they’d continued on a linear path, by now the show would be nothing but Kate, Sawyer, and Jack, sitting on a beach with Jack muttering, “Sexual tension, sexual tension, sexual - y’know what??? Screw it - I’m gonna go hotrail that slutty looking coconut!  How about ‘dem apples, Kate! You had your chance, and now this ship has sailed!!!!”

So how do you introduce new characters? Okay, first there was the crazy French chick, and while it was plausible that she could have learned to survive in the jungle commando-style, I had a tough time believing that after all those years she had yet to befriend a lovable lazy bear or a gorilla and worked out some kind of musical number.

Then there were The Others. Being the mysterious jungle ninjas that they were, there really was no way to tell how many there were, so that was a good source of new blood (particularly Ben, who is tied up and bloody and is still running the show.  When I say he’s the poor man’s Kevin Spacey, I actually mean it as a compliment.) After that, things started to get a bit silly.  First there was Desmond, the Scot who can see the future who was holed up in the hatch.  (I’ve decided to call him Groundskeeper Willie.) Then there were the Tailies, the biggest bunch of unintended pregnancies I’ve ever seen. 

The overarching dilemma was that as far as solutions go Desmond, the Others and the Tailies were a lot like condoms: you need them for a short time and you never, ever try and reuse them.  I couldn’t see how they could keep bringing in new characters, even though the answer was staring me right in the face: CONTINUE TO CRASH AIRCRAFT ON THE ISLAND. The sky is a bottomless well of new people!

After that long-ass intro, let’s talk about what’s actually going on, and find out just what kind of supermodel we’ll try to get to second base with.

Towards the end of last season, a woman named Naomi parachuted onto the island, crashing onto the trees.  She said she was part of a rescue mission sent by Groundskeeper Willie’s supremely rich long-lost love, Pehneh.  (People keep telling me her real name is Penny, but I know what I hear.)  But Naomi’s not working for Pehneh. (Don’t worry how we know that - it’s a long story involving an underwater radio jamming station, a man who doesn’t die and a Hobbit, and I’ll just sound like a lunatic if I try and sum it up. Just take my word for it.)

[Editor’s note: Fuck.  I just realized I’m about five hours from the next episode and I’m only a paragraph into the setup for last week’s episode after over a page of navel gazing.  Time for a power boost! {reaches into desk; pops three Adderalls} YEAH, BABY! LET’S GO DRY HUMP LIKE WE’RE TRYING TO START A FIRE!!!!!  CHAAAAARGE!!!]

After landing on the island, Naomi revealed a satellite phone, with which she could phone her boat nearby.  I don’t know much about the nautical rescue business, but I’m pretty sure that the standard procedure is not to get real close with a boat, then launch parachuters into an area with lots of tree cover.  I think they just pull the boat even closer, then send a smaller boat in to pick everybody up. 

The same moment when Naomi got a signal through to her “boat”, Batshit Crazy Locke threw a knife into her back - because the island told him too.  (Oh, did I not mention that?  The island talks to people, though it generally gets chatty with the crazy ones. Intriguing? I think so too.  I think the supermodel has a bare spot of thigh, if you want to get in on some of this action, or lack thereof.) Undaunted, Jack picked up the phone and told the guy on the other end to come pick them up, and if Jack saw fit to do it, it pretty much guarantees that it’s a bad idea. 

ADDigression: I know I always talk about how Jack is an incompetent leader. I believe this largely stems from the fact that Matthew Fox is really chewing the leafy scenery these days. Jack believes so adamantly in everything he says that when it invariably goes wrong he looks all the more stupid for being so gung-ho in the first place.  In fact, (or based on no evidence whatsoever) I’m pretty sure he’s been doing it ever since the Tailies came ‘round. Yes: I’m now saying that Michelle Rodriguez manages to fuck Lost up from BEYOND THE GRAVE!!! (Wait, she’s not dead? Oh. Whoops.)  

But the Naomi stabbing incident really illustrates the incompetence of Jack.  A woman has been stabbed and a homicidal psychopath and/or weirdo is among his people; as both a doctor and a leader, this is really Jack’s moment to shine.  Yet while he’s on the phone with the boat, both Locke and a woman WITH A KNIFE IN HER BACK manage to disappear!!!! Jack sets out to find Naomi following a trail of blood, yet when Kate finds another trail, suggesting one might be a decoy, Jack assures her that it’s probably someone else’s blood… I mean, who ISN’T bleeding, right? He also assures her that he has a foolproof plan to catch Naomi: he’s going to paint the image of a tunnel on the side of a rock.  If that doesn’t work, he’ll place a dish of bird seed under an anvil. Thankfully the ACME company ships to Lost Island.

I’m not surprised in the least when Jack is outfoxed by a woman who’s bleeding to death.  Because it’s not like I’m dry-humping a supermodel for her mind.

Later that night, Jack and Kate see a helicopter spinning out of control above them.  (See what I mean?  New characters, falling from the sky like angels…) Enter “Dan”, who parachuted from the helicopter and tells Jack he’s there to rescue them.  

And that’s just the setup for last week’s episode.  At the time that I’m writing this, there are three hours ‘til the next episode.  Oh boy.

Dan wasn’t alone in his helicopter, and last week’s episode focuses on his companions.  They are:

Dan: the only back story we get on Dan is that the day the plane crashed, he started sobbing uncontrollably while watching the news footage.  When his wife asks him why he’s crying, he replies that he doesn’t know.  You know what sucks?  Dry-humping.  You know what’s worse? Trying to enjoy the dry-humping while the supermodel won’t stop crying. I speak from experience.

Lawnmower Man (I didn’t catch the character’s real name, but he’s played by the guy who played the Lawnmower Man): In the very first sequence of last week’s episode, underwater scientists discover the wreckage of Oceanic flight 815.  I mean the entire wreckage, even though that makes no sense: we know that the middle of the plane landed on the beach, the cockpit landed in the jungle, and a tail full of douchebags landed close enough to a beach for the douchiest dozen to swim to safety.  But we’re the only ones who know this wreckage is a fake…until Lawnmower man shows up.  He sees news coverage of the wreckage and notices that photos of the pilot show no wedding ring on his finger.  Lawnmower calls Oceanic and tells them that he knows that’s not the real flight 815, and when they ask him how he knows, he says “because I was supposed to pilot the plane that day.”  DUNH-DUN-DUHHHHH.  Wait, you’re telling me I’m supposed to be dry-humping someone else?  Oh man… This is awkward…

Miles: [Editor’s Note: It is now Friday, and I have been lapped by Lost.  Dang it. Things might get a bit abbreviated.]  Miles talks to ghosts.  And he seems like kind of a prick.  Insert tired supermodel dry-humping joke here. 

Charlotte: Charlotte is an archaeologist.  Our introduction to her is when she goes to a dig someplace where there’s a lot of sand.  They probably mentioned the location, but I forgot it.  The dig has uncovered the skeleton of what Charlotte identifies as… you betcha - A POLAR BEAR.  She also finds the remains of a collar, branded with the same “Dharma Initiative” logo that’s all over the island.  The Dharma Group is an industry leader in the field of all-weather polar bears. I wish I was on their marketing team.  I  think my slogan submission would be, “Dharma all-weather polar bears - why should Inuits get all the fun!” Except we would lose the prized Eskimo demographic…

These are our four new islanders, and they’ve just discovered why the island isn’t called “Runway Key” - it’s pretty friggin hard to land there.  When they bailed out, Crybaby Dan landed near Jack and Kate, Charlotte risked perforation by being captured by Locke, and Miles is found unconscious on a rock.  OR IS HE??? No, of course not, and instead he puts a gun in Jack’s face.  Congratulations, Miles - you captured a nitwit.  Maybe after a few more months of training you’ll be ready to invade a day care center.  Ostensibly Miles is upset because in her last moments, Naomi radioed the boat and told them to tell her sister she loves her, which was code for “some asshole threw a knife into my back.” But he’s also a prick, so it’s tough to tell.

As Miles is leading Jack, Kate, and Crybaby Dan to go pick up the Lawnmower Man, Jack suddenly stops.  He says that Miles has guns pointed at his head.  Miles doesn’t believe him. I don’t believe him either. But we’re both wrong, because Sayeed and someone else I don’t care to discuss come out of the jungle with rifles.  I mention it because Jack got this smug smile on his face as he took Miles’s gun from him - did he not realize he was the bait??? It’s not like you’ll ever find a worm yelling, “What’s up now, you bitch-ass sea bass?!?”

At the end of the episode, they find the pilot.  Astoundingly, he did not actually crash the helicopter - it’s sitting in a clearing. 

This may seem like a huge development, and it might actually turn out to be one.  But I’ve already seen a submarine get blown up, and I can’t help but feel that these new four are a bunch of fuckwits.  Something’s bound to go wrong, especially with Jack hanging around, so I’m not getting my hopes up.

Supermodel to be Dry-Humped: I know that I said I’m in for the long haul, but not because of this episode. These new four just feel like next-generation Tailies, and I bet they’re dead within a year. That’s why I’m going with Kate Hudson.  First of all, she isn’t a supermodel.  Second of all, I don’t even think she’s that hot, and it has nothing to do with the time when she was a real dickhead to me when I was working as a cashier in a Blockbuster Music. 

Dry-Humping Scenario:   Me and Kate meet in a bar. She asks me if I know who she is.  I say, “Sure I do, but I won’t lie to you:  I haven’t seen any of your movies, and I don’t expect I ever will. Besides, you were an asshole to me when I was fifteen.” After I relay the story to her, she feels guilty over her immaturity. She offers to make it up to me over drinks. She’s intrigued by my indifference to her celebrity, and as the night proceeds, she invites me back to her house. I go. (I’m not engaged to be married in metaphors.) But as we make out, she begins to miss the adoration of most of her sycophantic lovers. Sure, I’d hump her, but would I ever love her? (Answer: nope.) She stops me before anything serious happens. But I’m not surprised.  I saw this coming a mile away, and I was just going through the motions.  On my way out, I steal her CD collection.

Reading that again, I realize it has NOTHING to do with an episode of Lost that happened over a week ago. But it would be really awesome.