....being the smoke monster is, I'll wager, a responsibility/benefit of being in control of the island. Remember how Smokey of yore used to invest his violence with recaps from his target's own screwed-up lives? Or maybe (In RealLocke's case) previews of more appealing coming attractions. (you'll recall season 1 Locke emerging from his confab with the then-invisible Thing by proclaiming, "It's beautiful!" Which wasn't what seemed to be occurring to, say, Mr. Eko, as scenes of his youthful thuggery and thievery and murder-y prefaced his being bashed to Eko-bits)

The new Smokey - steered by NotLocke's new pilot, who everyone in Lost-land is wagering is Jacob's black-cloaked brother/rival - smashes and bashes without benefit of moral/spiritual guidance. It's just....die, bastards! And off they go, with an ugly kersmash.

Guess who's coming to dinner! Now, guess who else is coming!

"I'm sorry you had to see me like that."

Ah, it's Locke, with his Colonel Kurtz head, his crinkle-eyed smile, his jungle-stained summer-wear. And now, his unsettling ability to become a (THE) smoke monster, complete with deadly coal-black smoke legs that can blast everyone and anything in sight into smithereens.

Who isn't Locke at all, of course, but some other being entirely. Jacob's evil brother? His rival? His Esau? Something has subsumed Locke -- who is, to be fair, dead -- and now it's unclear who or why and who's on his side, and what his side (his goal?) IS, exactly.

Welcome to the new, and final, season of "Lost." And we'll get to that in a moment, but not before we admit that this is not an unfamiliar story. No, it's the essential story of mankind (womynkind, too), all of us splayed between the contradictary natures within our own divided souls. It's hard to get truly lost these days, what with Mapquest and handheld GPS devices. Until you look inside yourself, of course, at which point the (moral) compass spins crazily and true north vanishes altogether. Gaze within and you're thousands of miles away from any rescue party. No man is an island, John Donne said. If only because those internal islands are so full of monsters and spirits and unsettling memories and whispering voices that sometimes you want them to vanish altogether. Either that, or go back in time so you can un-do all the mistakes you made along the way.

For all you fans out there obsessing over the "Lost" mythology (including part of me, of course) let's just put that down for a moment and realize that it's THIS other story -- the internal one; the psychological one; the overgrown wilds of the psyche one -- that resides most closely to the heart of the series.

The rest of it, the wildly-imagined and crazy-baffling stuff, is the grooviest window dressing in the history of popular American entertainment. It's the submarine; the Oceanic flight; the portal in the desert. But where you're headed, really, is deep, deep inside.

Still, the storytelling/question-answering went on at warp speed, too. To wit:

Black and white. Get it? 

So maybe keeping track of the various/many/endless strains of the "Lost" mythology isn't my specialty. But I can analyze and deconstruct plot, character and images with the best of 'em, and so I'm extremely surprised to discover that one of our pre-eminent Lost-perts, Dr. Jensen of Entertainment Weekly, has only lately (in public anyway) hit on the significance of the backgammon soliloquy at the end of the "Lost" pilot:

Even then, when virtually everything about the Island and physics and time and the Others and the Other Others and Dharma and etc had yet to be established, it seemed obvious that this new adventure series was girding its plot with serious ideas about life, liberty and the pursuit of dualism, particularly in the hearts of highly imperfect people.

Good and bad, dark and light, science and reason, fate and self-determinism. All these things were visible in those first two hours. And more and more, as the weeks rocketed past: polar bears (white) and the smoke monster (black). That scene with Locke and Walt (white and black, though that  hardly reflected their relative characters at the time) hunched over the backgammon board while Locke spoke cryptically about this game that went back to the beginning of time, with the opposing colors, and the pieces carved from peoples' bones, for crying out loud. . . . and if memory serves that was the LAST scene in the first episode.

Wasn't its significance always kind of extremely obvious? Anyone?

Nick Gorini's official portrait

NICK'S LINKS # 1 - DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE by NICK GORINI

As my friends can attest, I am a know-it-all, or at least I am a wish-I-knew-it-all. I'm the guy who watches the film credits until the screen goes dark. I'm the guy who 'Googles' and 'Wiki's' any mundane subject that crosses my path. I still have most of my college textbooks (you never know when Non-Euclidian math will come up in conversation. I want to be prepared, man).

For someone like me, there is no better show than "Lost." EVER. Hooked from the beginning, I soon became firmly entrenched in the online universe that sprang from the ether sometime during the middle of Season One. An entire universe of theories, spoilers, filming updates, rumors, photos, speculations, bets, even volumes of fan-created fiction, has had me enthralled for more than five years now.

It's not too late to jump down the rabbit hole. Here is a list of my favorite Lost-related websites, and why should check them out. A disclaimer: These sites are often 'Jump-off' points to other smaller sites that sometimes reveal future plot points (i.e. "Spoilers") that you may or may not want to see. Here goes:
 
1. www.DarkUFO.Blogspot.Com: This site is the mother-load of all things Lost. It links to dozens of other sites, but what's most useful is this site's collection of in-depth re-caps from bloggers all over the world. This is the O'Hare of the online lost community. Spoilers, recaps, shooting schedules, rumors, etc. It's got it all.
 
2. www.docarzrt.com: named after the beloved minor character who got blowed up real good, this site is less about spoilers and rumors, and more about thoughtful analysis and theorizing about Lost's storyline. Lots of great posts about the show's mythology, the overall arc and relation to real history can be found here. The owner of the site is also quite the writer and has passion for the show that never veers into crazy-guy territory.

Follow the jump for more, including MSG Network's Al Trautwig, a freaking sportscaster, whose video essays are great.

And so it begins. . .

The final season of "Lost." The answers to so many - if, we hope, not all - of the big questions. And a springboard for more, and deeper, thought than you'll find on any major network TV series since. . . well, since ever.

And peteramescarlin.com will be neck-deep in the jungle.

 
Actually, I’ve been doing variations of this for years. Ever since the earliest days in 2004 I've written dozens of pieces in The Oregonian during my TV critic days; then weekly breakdowns in Oregonlive’s Idiot Box tv blog, Gates rest its peevish little soul. Last season I wrote thumbnail breakdowns to share with my Facebook friends, and that was always fun, too.

But now this is the final season - the last 18 hours of one of the most gripping, mysterious and stone-cold fascinating series in the history of American TV. Which sounds like a kind of perverse overstatement, I suppose, but screw it. That’s what I think, it’s my story and I’m sticking with it.

And it gets better: This time around, I won’t be the only guy going on and on about it. Starting now, I’ll be co-blogging with Nick Gorini, a Portland writer, filmmaker, teacher, editor, and “Lost” fan whose quasi-anonymous (he signed himself ‘36963,’ or something like that, for reasons I never quite comprehended) comments/corrections/plot deconstructions on the old Idiot Box were so sharply observed and (ultimately) accurate that I suspected for several months that he was actually connected to the show somehow. He denied it then, and continues to deny it, but. . . That’s exactly what you’d expect them to do. You know what I mean.

At any rate, Nick’s got a terrific eye for detail, a bottomless fascination for “Lost”’s internal mythology, and a great ability to ferret out the best “Lost” thought beaming across the internet. So given that, and the fact that my own eyes tend to focus most on the character-borne/psychological/literary threads running through the series, we’re going to co-blog from here ‘til the end of the series.

So welcome Nick Gorini. Check out his first post (which I'm expecting any minute now) and let’s all buckle up for this last wild ride through time, space and the thickets of dysfunctional families, relationships and utopian communities!

Trust in fate and sweet inspiration. . .

VAN DYKE PARKS HITS THE ROAD - By Peter Ames Carlin

The Oregonian - January 31, 2010

The pop music geek in your life knows all about Van Dyke Parks.

Chances are they'll dig right into their (vinyl) music collection to spin a copy of Parks' 1968 solo album, "Song Cycle," while reciting chapter and verse of the VDP fable.

But first, listen: to the intricately arranged keyboards, guitars, synthesizers, horns and processed tapes; to the strains of bluegrass, psychedelia, ragtime, chamber music, jazz and art song. Then there's Parks' idiosyncratic lyrics and absurdist sense of humor. Notice how the song "Public Domain" is credited to Parks, while the next, "Van Dyke Parks" is copyrighted to the Public Domain. "Pot Pourri" ends the album in true Parksian style: Time is not the main thought from under the rain wrought from roots that brought us coots to hoot and haul us all back to the prime ordeal, he sings. Dust off Pearl Harbor time.

How does it even occur to a guy to write lyrics like that? Maybe it starts with having a life that seems perpetually on the verge of the surreal.

Parks started his career in the 1950s as a child actor featured in "The Honeymooners" before branching into movies with the "The Swan," which starred Grace Kelly.

He also soloed with the American Boys' Choir (then called the Columbus Boys' Choir) in venues including Carnegie Hall and sang in the kitchen of Albert Einstein, during an impromptu recital that included the genius accompanying him on violin.

Do a little jig and follow the jump to read more!

Jimmy does Jay. Mercilessly.

From Kimmel's show last night, responding to Leno's bizarre attempt to play the martyr on Oprah.

Here's Jimmy.

And here are the top 5 realizations America can (or should) leave this whole fascinating imbroglio with no uncertain understanding: 

1. Jay Leno is a truly weird and not particularly sympathetic individual.

2. Conan O'Brien will undoubtedly be a big part of America's late night future, only now on his own terms, and come September everyone who cares will/should be enormously grateful to NBC's execu-failures.

3. Jimmy Kimmel is not only funny, but funny in the best possible way: which is to say, grounded in a core morality that is hugely important to him. And as with every landmark comic you can think of -- Lenny Bruce, Richard Pryor, David Letterman  -- that moral position (which may or may not include some aspects of his own personal behavior, which can be hugely flawed, I know, but most often that's just the fixed cost of having a seethingly creative brain) is what gives his work the significance you don't hear in, say, Jay Leno's cheapo riffs on nothing in particular. E.g., did you know Bill Clinton is a horndog? Hey-oh! 

4. Real-life Kimmel anecdote: When ABC hired Kimmel in 02 tv crix were enormously dubious. . . right until he appeared at ABC's upfront that spring, facing a hugely dubious audience, and absolutely killed. You could feel the atmosphere change around you. His show has had hiccups over the years, but the Jaypocalypse may be his Moment Where It All Comes Together. Just maybe.

5. R-L K A #2: He's a human. When my pal Bill Goodykoontz was the tv crit or the Az. Republic, JK's hometown paper, Kimmel not only remembered him whenever he saw him, but also hugged him, asked after his kids, and hung around to trade hometown gossip, sports developments, etc. for ages. And maybe that's celebrity media manipulation 101, but still. I know Bill really well, have spent way more time with him over the years, and I don't know his kids' names yet. He's got a lot of kids, for one thing.

In days of yore when the  Republican party held the White House and sometimes one or both houses of Congress besides, displays of protest against the POTUS, particularly when made overseas or, worse, to his face, worst of all in the midst of the pomp of an address to Congress, were viewed as a kind of treason. A unified voice was necessary; dissent was for traitors; my president right or wrong. 

But in the last, oh, 12 months or so, their position has shifted dramatically.  When Obama addresses congress the R caucus smirks and rolls their eyes. During his address on health care reform they waved their own papers in the air and chanted insults. The notorious Joe Wilson wailed "you lie!" when he took issue with the president's (and I believe the congressional budget office's) numbers. He should have been escorted outside, aggressively, by congressional security. Instead, he was made into a hero by the like-mindedly seething.

I won't address the issues here, nor ignore the fact that the SOTU's, and all similarly formal intra-government speeches, are full of kabuki-like displays of respect, awe and disapproval.

Yet, the contempt shown for this president - not just by typical wing-nut foamers, but also by supposedly reputable elected leaders - has sunk to scarifying lows. The persistent muttering about his place of birth, despite endless evidence to the contrary; the ongoing assertions that he is secretly a Muslim, the persistent use of race-baiting code-words. . . and so much of it from the actual halls of Congress, and their paid  helpmates on K street and beyond. . . edges ever-closer to terrifying. 

In a nostalgic mood I sifted through my Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young tunes this morning, and finally bit the bullet and downloaded the "Deja Vu Live" album, which is basically a live version of Young's "Living With War" album. Some nice moments in there, even if it's a bit out of date and wanky at times. But CSNY really only matter to the extent that they've got Y on their side; and it's refreshing to hear those three ego-driven quasi-revolutionaries actually sound like they mean it, for once. I go back and forth on these guys, wildly at times, but some of their good stuff, particularly with Neil onboard, was, in fact, really good. And his guitar playing, particularly on stage, lights those coots up like an electric current.

I dig the audacity of "Let's Impeach the President," which is quite the cheery singalong, and definitely not to be recited/performed/emulated by anyone in an official chamber during a ceremonial presentation. Barring, of course, official and well-reasoned (and not intern-diddling-inspired) proceedings. "Thanks to the First Amendment!" Neil declares afterwards. And while you could argue that mid-State-of-the-Union snarling and snapping and insulting by opposing lawmakers might in fact be protected speech, I think it's important to recall that there are times and places to consider, and my understanding, even when I don't like the guy at the podium, is that in certain official circumstances, you must show your respect for his/her office, and the vital importance it plays in protecting the Constitution. Including the part that allows you to talk shit about him. 

Neil Young and the boys talk plenty of shit on their album, but mostly it's a call to support the troops and take their lives, and the nation's priorities, in some serious, logical and not entirely cowboy-like way. Fiery dissent is for rockers. And there's a hell of a good reason why rockers don't set policy (and why Rep. John Hall, once the leader of Orleans) isn't a rocker anymore. Here's hoping he writes better policy than pop tunes.

And sometimes it takes a Canadian to remember what's great about America. 

 Advance warning for Washington DC-area folks: On February 11, anniversary of the Beatles' first US concert, we'll be talking about the Beatles album that COULD have followed 'Abbey Road,' if history had turned that way. . . . .

Not sure what time it'll air. But it was a good discussion, thanks to fellow panelists Tim Riley and Richie Unterberger. So check it out!

Check it, folks: It's an hour-long talk about McCartneys, Beatles and aspiring biographers, between legendary radio man Bob Edwards and some other guy. And it's all here. . .