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By Nick Gorini
 
We can’t all be “Candidates”. We can’t all be heroes. Not all of us get to be special, or chosen. Many of us grow up and live entire lives believing, whether the evidence supports or not, that something big, something important, awaits.
 
Watching "Lost", we want to be that strong-jawed, determined hero, like Jack. Or the too-cool-for-school loverboy hero, like Sawyer. Maybe we want to be the scary, not-to-be-messed-with baddass hero, like Sayid. Maybe we even want to be the universally loved and gentle hero, like Hurley.
 
As much as I wish I was like these guys, I’m not. If I was on "Lost", I’d probably be unassuming Bernard, on a good day. On a bad day, I’d probably be more like the whiny, petty Frogurt. You remember - the guy that ended up with a fiery arrow in his mouth?
 
Unlike Jack, we can’t all have that smug satisfaction, being nominated to replace a nearly immortal, time traveling, all-knowing martyr.
 
And when we unchosen ones aspire to heroism, and try to do something big, or expect something important in our lives, it doesn’t always end up so well. Some of us who try get blowed up real good, or die for something a little smaller, like love.
 
The advice that I would’ve given to Sayid, Sun, Jin and even Lapidus: Save yourselves, and embrace your own mediocrity, like I do! Sure, you won’t be special, important, or even cool. But you may be able to sit on a tropical beach, feet in the warm water, nursing a delicious Dharma beer. Let the heroes figure it out, man.
 
Quick Sideways Recap:
 
So we begin with Jack telling Locke he’s a candidate for experimental back surgery. Locke steadfastly refuses, but at this stage, we don’t know why. We later find out, after Jack does some highly unethical, inappropriate detective work and Jack-style pushiness, that Locke was paralyzed trying to fly a small plane that crashed hard, making his dad, Anthony Cooper (Hey Coop! You must still be a bastard!)  a vegetable. The guilt and self-loathing that we’ve seen spilling out of both Smokey and sideways Locke is now clear.
 
This is what Terry O’Quinn has been showing us these past few episodes. His line readings as both characters have been tricky – this anger that Locke feels towards himself? It’s affecting Smokey, for sure.
 
Throughout the course of this, Jack meets Bernard, who shares the Oceanic flight experience, and steers Jack towards Cooper. Obviously, Bernard knows a LOT more than he’s letting on. I wonder: Bernard and Rose are married. Did they have their own Desmond moment together? Their love, and their serving as each other’s “Constants”, gave them full awareness of the island without any intervention on Desmond’s behalf?  What do you think about that?
 
On a side note, do you think Cooper is an actual vegetable? Could he be faking it? We know that Cooper, even in this sideways timeline, is still being hunted down by Sherriff Sawyer as a suspected con man. How will this storyline be resolved?
 
Later, we see that the timelines continue to converge, as Locke dreams about pushing buttons and other nonsense. Claire shows up, and after she and Jack share a reflection in a mirrored box willed to her by Christian Shepherd, she gets invited to crash at her bro’s pad. They also share their Oceanic flight moment. Oh, and most important, Jack doesn’t need Jacob’s help getting a candy bar out of the vending machine. Uh, that’s some real growth there, I guess. In this newer, better universe, even snack machines get a second chance to right their wrongs. Does this snack machine haunt the island like Michael, struggling to move on, consumed with the guilt of endless quarters taken with no candy given?
 
As we get to what is one of the best scenes of the evening, we see Jin behind Locke bringing flowers to Sun’s hospital room. See folks! They’re alright! Anyhow, I really liked the dialogue between Jack and Locke, and nearly all of those lines came from previous episodes, only now, they’re tinged with all this sad wisdom, and battered hope.
 

Your island recap, and way more, on the alt-entry after the jump. . .

Don't leave the island without it!

As the end of "Lost" approaches every previously-accepted point of the show's fact, history and fancy seem to pirouette, somersault and get blown to smithereens.

Sayid - dead. Sun and Jin - dead. Lapidus - vanished and presumed....well, your guess is as good as mine. Hurley - weeping uncontrollably. Alt-Locke - revealed as the loving son of a vegged-out Anthony Cooper, wracked by guilt because he crashed the plane that not only shattered his own spine, but destroyed the life of his beloved old man. Leaving the bald boy so wrought by guilt he won't even consider Alt-Jack's offer of a near-surefire cure for his paralysis.

Did I mention that this post might include some spoilers from last night's episode? Maybe I should have noted that earlier.

Questions are answered, stories resolved. Satisfying or not, an ending always means the foreclosing of options. The collapse of some possibilities in favor of others. Which leads just as inevitably to disappointment and outrage. It's like the show's creators have pillaged your imagination, kicking apart your dreams and contradicting your own sense of logic and reality.

No surprise then to turn on the Twitter this morning and see some of my favorite tweeters (James Poniewozik; Tim Carvell) already engaged in a what-if-the-ending sucks-does-it-wreck-the-whole-series exchange.

Which reminds me of why I think series conclusions, particularly in long serialized shows full of myth and mystery, will always be roundly loathed. And why the final answers to "Lost" shouldn't matter that much to anyone, anyway. . . .

Some girls are so pure, some girls so corrupt....

(Updated to include the afore-forgotten "Before They Make Me Run.") 

If you love the Stones -- and you really should, if you're listening to the right albums -- this is what you're thinking about. The wicked songs. The unreptentant portraits of killers, rogues and devils. Scarred old slavers who know they're doin' alright. (Hear 'im whip the wimmin, just around midnight!) Which isn't to say that Mick, Keith and co. are personally misogynistic, let alone racist. But they do know a thing about sin, and about sinners. And they know where power comes from. And also who killed the Kennedys. That would be you and me, friends. And you haven't figured that out yet, well, in 1978 the Stones had another portrait of laughter, joy and loneliness and sex and sex and sex and sex to offer. And 32 years later it still rocks: A testament to the whole idea of moral and artistic transgression.

Start with the album cover: the front is a faux-wig display, only the products are extremely cheap and ugly, and the models are mostly the Stones in drag, (e.g., classic headshots tarted up with lurid red lipstick and other creep-showtinting), with famous female sex symbols (Farrah F. Majors; Lucille Ball, Liz Taylor) tossed in, mostly to piss off FFM, LB, LT and their assorted handlers, legal reps, etc. etc. If not for the wigs, then for the even-more-lurid bra ads on the back, or (jeezus!) the pocket profiles of the bandmembers, whose bios are actually old fan mag profiles of mid-century film stars, only with the relevant Stone's name subbed in. To wit: 

CHARLIE WATTS: This beautiful and talented showgirl, model and actress hasn't found a man who fits her rigorous specifications for a husband. Says the cautious Watts: "I have no regrets...I would rather be lonely than sorry...."

Get the idea that Miss Watts may not be all that into guys in the first place? Hmm. The point being (I think), that lies, hype, beauty and shame have always existed near the surface of glam showbiz. So take a deep breath, turn on the hi-fi and lay the needle into the groove. And Oh. My. God.

Transgression the first: "Miss You" is a freakin' disco song, maaaaan. The album's lead single dropped at the height of the "Saturday Night Fever" craze, and your serious rock fans were beside themselves: The Stones were praying at the altar of Andy Gibb! And Lipps, Inc.! They had, in other words,gone disco! (e.g., black; slick; possibly gay) The outrage was as palpable as it was stupid. And not just because all that death-to-disco jive was such thinly-veiled racism/homophobia, but also because no song with Charlie Watts playing drums could fail to swing, even if it's straight foot dance music. And then you've got Keith and Ron Wood goosing the guitars, and the afore-unknown street musician Sugar Blue  on harmonica, all of them working from a five-note riff that feels as old and angry as the blues itself,well, it ain't exactly "Blame it On the Boogie." Particularly considering that the whole affair brows around another classic tale of Jagger-centric  heartbreak and urban decadence. Here he is, a grown man (with a necktie to pull on) sulking in his CPW apartment over love gone wrong, only to be interrupted by a call from drunk friends promising to come round with a case of wine, a handful of super-friendly Puerto Rican girls, and a promse to "make some fool-around, you know, like we used to!" What could that entail? I don't think we want to know, considering what we've already learned about those girls who are "just dyyyyyin' to meeetchoo!") . Instead, focus on how raw the groove feels, and how desperate Mick's yelps and wails sound: "Ooh, baby why'd you wait so long/Won't you....COME HOME! COME HOME!" Does he really feel that sad without about-to-be-ex-wife Bianca? Umm, well, no. As we're soon to discover...

Dave's not here!

By Nick Gorini
 
In a break from form, I feel the need to start off this post by issuing this week’s Stupid Award to yours truly. Why? Well, I spent last week telling everyone and their brother that ‘The Last Recruit,’ this week’s episode of ‘Lost’, was going to possible be an absolute bloodbath of Eli Roth-like proportions.
 
My Intel and my Spidey Sense were WAY off.
 
Consider this my formal mea culpa: For getting caught up in being the first with the gossip scoop, for paying more attention to what the internets were saying (I mean, they never lie, right?) and less to the pulse of the story, for not being diligent in my fact-checking, and for being gullible, I have won this week’s Stupid Award!
 
Was I confused, living in an alternate timeline? Was I manipulated and swayed by the Smoke Monster? Did Jacob steer me in this misguided direction to teach me a larger lesson? Was it because the episode cryptically appeared on the date of 4/20, Man?
 
I bring up 4/20 for a couple of reasons: The Losties crashed on a tropical island, looking much like Hawaii. Tropical islands (like Hawaii) are typically known for growing certain types of plants that have a known, enthusiastic following. Let’s put it this way - I imagine Woody Harrelson and Willie Nelson might even have vacation homes near Hydra Station (hydroponics is a popular topic of discussion with this subculture).
 
With this information in mind, I ask you, why the hell didn’t Jacob try having a toke with Smokey? His name is Smokey, after all. Why didn’t Smokey try growing some weed in a quiet, fern-covered patch of his back yard, next to the chicken coop? While I don’t believe in any chemical cure-all (this is Lost – resolution has to come from within), can you imagine how different our storyline would be if Smokey had the occasional, well, smoke?
 
For all his troubles and eternal enslavement, all Jacob offered Smokey was half a carafe of table wine (back in Alpert’s episode). I’d be pissed, too. Give me something a little stronger. Of course, you don’t have to be Catholic to know that what Jacob offered Smokey wasn’t really wine; it was something much stronger. Smokey knew that, too, which is why he smashed that sacrament and faith into shards littering the hallowed ground.
 
Perhaps that’s what Jacob wanted for Smokey. To not ply himself with narcotic, to not be complacent and trapped. After all, ‘It only ends once. Everything before that is progress.’ Maybe Jacob wants this escalation, maybe Jacob needs this chaos to help save Smokey. To help save his soul. To help Smokey embrace his destiny. Wonder what that could be?...
 
By the way, have I mentioned that I still haven’t stopped thinking about ‘Ab Aeterno’?
 
This week’s Aye, Caramba! moments...and more....after the jump:

They got the same greeting at David Geffen's place...

So many stories, so many characters, multiple realities, intertwining crises. And maybe the one thing they all have in common is that no one is telling the truth, exactly. Particularly when they look you in the eye and swear to creation that everything they say is real.

And while it's true that some people can, and do, tell a lie in pursuit of a moral end, the creation (or perpetuating) of a reality that is nothing but a hall of mirrors serves mostly to throw dirt in the air and turn everyone, good or bad, blind.

If the subject is "Lost," which it is, I could be talking about anything now. About Sawyer reneging on his deal with MIB/Locke. About alt-Desmond tailing, and steering, alt-Claire to the meeting with the alt-Ilana, alt-Jack. About alt-Desmond's bumper car exploits with altLocke. And on and on. About alt-Sayid's murders of Keamey & friends; about Sayid's non-murder of Desmond (if you don't see the body....), and more.

But what's really got me shaken up, after several weeks of thinking it was coming, is the news that the post-death Christian Shepard, seen so often in various stations and moods on the island, was always Smokey, animating yet another dead person's body. Which implies that Smokey was the guy in "Jacob"'s moveable jungle cabin; and the guy helping Locke push the wheel that sent the island spiraling back and forth in time; that Smokey was the one appearing to Jack in various places during his first L.A. sojourn....except, wait a minute. That COULDN'T have been Smokey, because that was in L.A., and guess who can't travel over water?

So does that mean all those Smokey-seeming Christians weren't Smokey after all? 

At this pace "Lost" begins to resemble a kind of sci-fi version of Whack-A-Mole, where each successfully whacked plot twist only sends a dozen other rodents leaping out of the dirt.

"The first thing we do when we finally show up/Is get shit-faced drunk and try to sober up..."

They were the American Clash. The Rolling Stones of the 1980's. Somewhere between the greatest American punk band ever and the greatest rock band in the post-everything era.

And virtually every sweet, angry, blistering, tender, wonderful note the Replacements played burst from the same impulse that made damn sure they would never amount to anything.

"Can you stand me on my feet?" 

Even in 1983, before they even had a chance to hate themselves for even beginning to seem successful, the Replacements -- original line-up: songwriter/singer/guitarist Paul Westerberg, lead guitar Bob Stinson, bassist Tommy Stinson and drummer Chris Mars, all from Minneapolis/St. Paul Minnesota  -- stage-dove eagerly onto their own lovingly built petard. They were drunks, screw-ups, addicts, sketchy musicians who got even worse when they were drunk (often) or traded instruments, which they loved to do nearly as much as they loved to get drunk, even (especially?)  when the tape was rolling. Because just as the Clash, their UK counterparts who flamed out just as the 'Mats were building steam, truly believed in their own political and moral vision, the Replacements believed fiercely in their own personal failings.

To the extent they actually had the talent and drive to turn loserhood into creative (and commercial) transcendence simply underscored how pathetic their own needs were. To say nothing of how even MORE pathetic their growing legion of fans had to be.

"The label wants a hit/And we don't give a shit...."

“Oh Hurley; you’re such a Dahl, but Desmond’s a Peach”

By Nick Gorini
 
Wasn’t this week great? Just like old times, it reminded me of a typical episode from the first two seasons. A little death, a little love, a little action, a little science fiction, a little religion, and a few key ‘WTF’ moments (Listed with thoughts below). And to top it off, the promo for next week’s episode took the great Gene Wilder/Willy Wonka creepfest boat song and turned it into Black Flag B-Side (see here). Awesome.
 
Here are just a few of the “Wowza” moments this week:

Just when I got to liking Ilana, she blows up, Doc-Arzt style. That was quick and unceremonious, especially for all the work she had done. Will we ever know why she was in such rough condition when Jacob visited in the hospital? MAN, I hope they blow up Zoe next.

Hurley finds Ilana’s copy of Dostoevsky’s Notes from the Underground, chalk full of existential angst. Man, I feel bad for Ilana. Training for Jacob her whole life, carrying around Russian Downer-Lit for light reading, and then getting Blowed Up Real Good! For more good Blowed Up, see here.

Know what else Hurley found in Ilana’s tent? Jacob’s ashes! Hey, have I asked this yet? What the hell is the ash all about?

Hurley blowing up the Black Rock! Yeah!! Honestly, I was getting sick of dynamite. It’s time to move past firecrackers and guns. We’re playing a game for souls here.

So, we know that in order for people to reconnect with their island selves, they need to experience chaos, whether it be the good kind of chaos (intense love and passion) or the bad (extreme pain, physical emergency).

Oh my man, Desmond! You were great in every scene this week! And you and Smokey at the well? Best interplay of characters yet. “Why aren’t you afraid?” Smokey can’t figure it out, can he. He tried to get Desmond focused on the petty little mysteries of the island, but Desmond’s stuck in his little love shack.

The Whispers! The whispers are the souls that cannot move on spiritually, the souls still so consumed with guilt and self-loathing. Poor, poor Michael. This raises a few questions:

So the show creators say the island isn’t Purgatory, but souls being stuck on an island between Heaven and Hell? Sounds kinda like Purgatory to me.

During the first few seasons, the voices always appeared right before Smokey showed up, or right before the Others came trudging along the trail. Are these ghosts forces for good, or bad?

Does Smokey know about these ghosts?

Souls stuck on the island. Guess what? Isabella’s ghost appeared to Hurley, and so does…. JACOB!! Does this make Jacob a lost soul?! Hmmm…

And on that note, why is Alpert so, so bloodthirsty now? To be honest, I think it’s a plot device: the writers wanted to create tension and conflict for Hurley, and they needed a reason to split off a few characters (Miles, Ben and Alpert) who will show up again in a few episodes, ostensibly to save the day at a moment when all hope seems lost. Rang just a hair hollow for me.

Smokey whittling away at his stick while Sawyer fumes was an important scene, for a few key reasons. Much like all the characters, they run around, leading busy but meaningless lives. Working at something, doing some sort of activity, until that moment of clarity comes. It was almost as if Smokey was taunting Sawyer.

Desmond getting thrown down the well! Wow! The instant I saw the well, I knew Desmond would be back in The Hatch. A great scene, anyway.

Biggest. Shocker. Of the night: Sideways Desmond turning wheelchair-bound Locke into a hood ornament. I always feel terrible for Desmond (he’s been put through so much), but Holy Cow! Can Locke’s spirit take any more of a beating? So why did Desmond do this? There really are only three possibilities to consider:

1.  He knows Smokey takes over Locke’s body and that the only way to prevent Smokey from destroying everything is to kill Sideways Locke.

2. He knows that the only way to re-awaken Jack is to have him meet his polar opposite, Locke. And that most of our characters need to converge in one spot.

3.  He knows that Locke can be re-awakened in his possessed body, but that it takes some sort of cataclysmic event to re-adjoin Locke’s soul. Time will tell.

Wowzas, predictions and more follow this here jump....
 

Emotional eating, and proud of it, yo.

A very short analysis this time out, and late besides, due in part to ravenous wire-chewing squirrels (no, really, they totally cut off the Internet last night, the bastards) and the usual time/work constraints. Poor, poor, pitiful me, etc.

Ah, but "Lost." Everybody Loves Hugo, which means a journey into the alternate life, and ever-deepening psyche of one Hugo 'Hurley' Reyes, whose happy-go-extremely-lucky alt-version in L.A. still has a bit of the spook in him, particularly when Libby shows up.

He's puzzled at first, but intrigued, and then when she leans in for a smooch it all comes back. As Dr. Nick put it last week: Love is all you need.

But there's a real yin-yang thing taking place between the alt-characters and their island-bound counterparts. For Hurley the consummation of his Libby fantasy seems to elevate his growing confidence a notch or three. He's completely comfortable wielding power over Jack, for instance. And Jack is comfortable being wielded....though that look he gives not-Locke when they finally come face-to-face implies another set of feelings: the ones telling him that ultimately it's all going to boil down to him going mano-a-mano with Smoke Boy, and whoever wins goes home with all the marbles.

Other notions:

1. That awkward bit of exposition Michael provided about the whispers (they're the souls locked in island purgatory) worked on a narrative level, but still felt like a bit of a punt to me. I'd imagined they were, at least, the voices of time travelers, of the spirits who were simply visiting that time/place/realm but not really OF the t/p/r. That's what I thought, anyway. And what does the purgatory answer imply about where the rest of the story is headed? 

2. Not-Locke tossing Desmond into the well, and alt-Desmond running his sleek sedan right over an unsuspecting alt-Locke were obviously mirror actions, which I'd guess have something to do with the perp's desire to drag their victim closer to the yin of their yang (or vice versa), and give them the flash of insight/connection experienced by Charlie when he was choking to death, drowning to death or otherwise having some edge-of-existence revelation. The coming attractions flashes were extremely intent on making sure we knew they weren't dead, at any rate.

3. You know what this season lacks so far? The unexpected, yet absolutely perfect use of some obscure rock/pop oldie none of us have even thought of in decades. C'mon, dudes.

4. Here's a prediction, stemming in part from my bitching about the whispers revelation: Gird yourself for some serious Hate about the "Lost" finale, no matter where it goes. Particularly if it goes the way I want to, with an emphasis on the dream-reality-as-deeper-truth aspects of the series. Just a prediction.

I've been listening to this album consistently for the last week, 10 days, and there's no getting around it: "Band on the Run" is simply a great rock 'n' roll record, a serious contender for anyone's Greatest Ex-Beatles albums, and nothing short of a joy to listen to, repeatedly, on even the most grim and lifeless days. Because it's bursting with life, and inventiveness. To say nothing of sex, restlessness, seething ambition, and more. Let's take it song-by-song:

Band on the Run: LIsten and think hard about how inventive this 5 minute-plus rock suite really is. The modular structure; the abrupt shifts in tempo and sound; the way it's all constructed to fit a kind of impressionistic narrative about the joys, complications and endless opportunities for transcendence that go along with music and -- more than anything -- being in a rock 'n' roll band. Section by section, now: Stuck inside these four walls....lord, it's every dead-end room you've ever inhabited, at home, in school, at some crappy job you thought you'd never escape, and just when you least expect it, even at the height of fame. If I ever get out of here.... the guitars turn crunchy, the percussion cracks like a pistol shot as the dead-end becomes fame itself; e.g., straight-up memories of the Beatlemania days, the endless hours of being cooped up in dressing rooms while the world surged madly at their door. Then....that breathttaking symphonic leap up to the central verse and chorus of the song and the point where...The rain exploded with a mighty crash/as we fell into the sun.... and the band is back on the run, soaring above the clouds and far from the grasp of any number of antagonists: the sherrif, the county judge (who held a grudge), even the undertaker. The music soars. The voices call out ecstatically (Yeeeeah!) Four minutes in, and the album is way above the clouds.

Jet: Someone is clearly pissed off at an ex-girlfriend, and though he keeps the lyrical details pretty abstract (I thought the Major was a lady sufragette!) the wicked horns-and-guitar riff that kicks it off, the growling bari sax throughout and the hard edge to his voice makes it all extraordinarily clear. When I hear this song I always imagine he's having another go at Jane Asher (see also: "I"m Looking Through You"), recalling the middle-class gentility of the Asher family (Dr. Asher = the Major; Mrs. Asher = Mater, and so on) and cursing his own enchantment/intimidation in their presence. After all, it turned out he was the one who really had it going on, didn't it? Climb on my back and we'll go for a ride in the sky.... "Jet" rocks mercilessly.

Follow the jump to see who dies, what comes back and who is going to shake it, and yet not break it...

Photo: Beth Nakamura/The Oregonian

Turns out there's sex in Portland. Turns out there's lots of sex in Portland. The whole story, going back to the writing of the Oregon state constitution and the randy religious culters, the many, many strip joints and the fundamentalist, yet cheerfully Sexy Christians can be found right here. Parental guidance suggested.