- The flash sideways didn't dig deeply into the characters personal lives like the flash backs
- The flash sideways lives of the characters didn't connect with the island-world in a satisfying way - I thought the plot of the flash sideways was going somewhere, but it just ended with each character having their "flash" of the island life and then they all went to the church - so why did all the events/storylines of the flash sideways matter?
- The introduction and destruction of the temple (yes it was mentioned in previous seasons but the explanation of it, the time spent there, and eventual payoff with the temple and the new characters introduced felt really pointless in the overall previous 5-season scheme of things)
- The explanation of the island's power/energy
- The lack of a true origin story for "The Others"
- The purpose and Ben and Hurley remaining as caretakers (originally, Jacob and his mother were caretakers and the Man in Black wanted control, just like Widmore and Ben wanted control - but what would control of the island really have done for the "bad guys"?)
- Moving the island with the frozen donkey wheel wasn't satisfactorily explained
- The Hanso corporation's background and the background of DHARMA and the DHARMA home base in Ann Harbor all had serious gaps in their explanation
- The Egyptian motif all over the island wasn't explained
- I thought the explanation of Smokey was disappointing
- John Locke's demise was disappointing, to say the least
- The concept of fate that supposedly brought all these broken people together to work together and find resolution (which was carried through to Michael being unable to kill himself while on the mainland because "the island isn't done" with him) all seemed to be diminished by the explanation that Jacob chose them all because one of them would take over for him
- I really wanted fate/faith/redemption to play a huge role in the overall explanation, and the simple purgatory, we ALL get to move on message at the very end made everything else feel like it was pointless if all the main characters got to move on - even Ben staying on the island with Hurley felt wrong after all the shit he pulled - where was his comeuppance? He had some really emotional apologies/realizations in season 6, but so what? At least have him die sacrificing himself by killing Locke in a really epic final battle!)
- The point that they all find meaning and happiness in the afterlife seems to diminish the struggle to find meaning and happiness in life - was the afterlife going to be a complete shitstorm before they spent a few months together on the magic island, but now that they all learned important things about themselves they're guaranteed a great spot together in a blissful nirvana/heaven?
- I really wanted fate/faith/redemption to play a huge role in the overall explanation, and the simple purgatory, we ALL get to move on message at the very end made everything else feel like it was pointless if all the main characters got to move on - even Ben staying on the island with Hurley felt wrong after all the shit he pulled - where was his comeuppance? He had some really emotional apologies/realizations in season 6, but so what? At least have him die sacrificing himself by killing Locke in a really epic final battle!)
- Desmond's abilities/powers/special place at the center of everything wasn't ever truly explained. The only actual explanation was the explosion of the hatch, but he was "special" before that, right? So why him? What made Eloise and the island choose him? Was it his selfless, determined spirit and personality?
- Eloise Hawking - major player, without a complete explanation of her past and significance to the island and her role as a guardian/watcher of time like Madame Web
- Crazy Claire and Widmore's goons were two major storylines on the island which took a ton of time away from more important and more interesting storylines that could have been addressed, or the time could have been better spent adding content to other more significant plotlines
- I wanted a lot more Farady. A lot more.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Random collection of reasons I was disappointed with "Lost" season 6
dica hcamots lufniap eht rof sknath :SP*
For the last few minutes I have been plodding through these lines (from Orient Is His Name's "For This I Was Born and For This I Have Come Into This World").
I think the second half of the first paragraph represents the human condition. There are peaks and there are the lowest of lows, but ultimately it all evens out to flat ground. And this is what we (I, at least) wither. So, my response tends to be the first part: entertain my body. Whether its through recreational drugs, reading, writing, watching TV, studying, or pontificating on why things are the way they are, this is "letting my animal body have it all".
The real quandary, though, may be found in the last two lines:
"I am a human sacrifice, a human sacrifice,
Spend all my time remembering why."
The above "strikes" me as what may be my correct purpose in life. Frankly, it sounds pretty boring. More importantly, it sounds profoundly saddening. Is it, though? Or is it profoundly joyous? I don't think it means I am to meditate or "metacognate"
or any of that stuff on the condition as/of a human sacrifice.
I don't know what it means. But I do fear that in one way or another it means losing everything and everyone. Again, I still don't know what it means, but I have already decided that whatever it does end up meaning, if He says "Go" then I will go.
*DISCLAIMER: I HAVE NO SPECIAL INSIGHT OR KNOWLEDGE ABOUT THE BAND MEANINGS OR LYRICS TO THIS SONG, OR EVEN IF THEY HAVE MEANING AT ALL. ALL THE ABOVE IS SIMPLY MY OWN THOUGHTS ON THE MATTER.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Adventures in Craigslist Creative Writing
The level of writing found in a traditional Craigslist post for anything is abysmal.
Why would I want to buy tickets from someone who uses "plz call me bfore 11am as i want to sell these asaps!!" ?
Or, in a personal ad, I suggest writing more than "What 'sup tonight? Feelin bored and lonely and just wanna text and we'll see where it goez. Hit me up. 22 m/6'1/built/no 4:20/yes alcohol"
Thus, following a very normal trip to a coffee shop yesterday after which I said to myself, "Hey, dumbass, learn how to have real conversations with people," I considered the best way to solve this issue. The issue at hand is my socialization with others. But I decided that my procrastination needed some creative stimulation, rather than serious introspection about myself, thus I created a solution to a problem which really isn't a problem for an issue that I really don't care much about, while at the same time elevating the level of Craigslist vocabulary and writing style exponentially for seven days.
So, I present the following for your amusement:
"Adventures in Craigslist Creative Writing: A Missed Connection"
To: Cute barista
From: Me
So I walked into Olympic Coffee at about 5:30 Saturday afternoon (wearing glasses and a blue Sounders FC half-zip sweatshirt) and you were working. I didn't just walk in - I wandered in aimlessly looking for bags of coffee or some signage indicating that you sold coffee for at-home use. I think this aimlessness is what made you take note and say "What can I get for you?" "Do you sell coffee by the pound," I embarrassingly asked. "We do!" you pleasantly replied, and you proceeded to show me the giant bins of coffee beans all nicely labeled. Yet, despite the labels, I wanted to try and get some minor spark of conversation going, so in all my brilliance I said "What different flavors do you have?" You smiled and said "Well..." and then continued by reading off at least ten different flavors, even making sure to inform me of which one happened to be out at the moment. I stared and listened and when you finished I dumbly answered "Oh. Hmmm...," as if any of the names meant anything to me as I pretended to contemplate my choice. Then, in order to talk to you slightly more and in order to actually find the coffee that would work best for what I was looking for, I asked "So out of all of those, what is your darkest roast?" And THEN came the moment that confirmed my initial suspicion the first time I glanced at you and saw your eyes: this person isn't just cute and friendly, she's kind and helpful and intelligent, too. And what happened in this moment which convinced me of this? You didn't just tell me your darkest roast, rather, you said "Well, the Sumatran blend is the darkest we have, but for a dark roast with better flavor I'd recommend..." So there it was. A considerate and well-thought out recommendation. I was officially smitten (okay, not really, but still - kind and considerate and it made me take even more interest in you).
From this point onward you kindly asked me about how I'd like the beans ground, and then informed me of the special 12oz. drink that comes for free with buying a pound of coffee, and then you made me a great Americano whilst I talked about the dearth of quality coffee places in Port Orchard, and then I left and wished you a nice evening. There was no real flirtation (although I suspect I had a big goofy smile on my face and probably did my best to avoid eye contact), and your smile and attitude were both amazingly radiant in a fairly poorly lit environment after having just come in from the bright sun breaks which followed the brief hailstorm. Yet, despite the superficiality of it all, something about you and your glasses, brown hair, bright smile, shiny jewelry, pleasant voice, kind conversation, the way in which you handled the giant bin of coffee beans you pulled down with the ease and grace with which Ichiro handles a baseball bat, and just your overall niceness (for lack of a better word) stood out to me. But my favorite detail of the entire eight minutes I spent there was the fact that we had the exact same verbal exchange TWICE in the course of two minutes. When I walked over to the register to pay, you asked me how my day was going and I said good and asked you the same question and you also said good. When we moved over to the espresso machine while you made the Americano, there was a seemingly long pause and you were the first to fill it by saying "How's your day going so far?" and we were off and running once more.
Now, a normal rational person would probably take the awkward silence and the repetition of the same question which you likely ask all customers as a sign that there was in fact zero interest from you in anything beyond selling me great coffee and making an excellent Americano and you were just filling the dead air with pleasantries. But, of course, I am anything but normal when it comes to interacting with women. Misreading signs is my talent. Being socially awkward is my art. Silence and avoiding eye contact are my specialties. Misinterpreting what someone means when they say it to me is my forte. Thus, I would rather interpret our duplicate second round of pleasantries about the quality of each other's day as a sign that you 1) were so interested in me that you were overwhelmed and couldn't think of what to say or 2) are slightly socially awkward (in a cute way, of course) and therefore chose to repeat the same discourse.
Thus, in reviewing my immediate feelings and reaction to those eight minutes yesterday and in reviewing and reflecting upon what I have sputtered forth so far, the main point I hope to make is this: I like you as much as anyone could like anyone based upon this brief customer/employee type of interaction. I don't typically flirt or ask people for their numbers or do any of those charming things you see the male lead do in a romantic comedy. So, in order to compensate for my crippling awkwardness and general phobia of genuine interaction, I do things like THIS. Write a long essay to a stranger. But, while I see the oddness and potential creepiness of such a choice, there are only several possible outcomes: 1) this post will be completely ignored or likely never seen by anyone 2) this post will be discovered by a friend or coworker, shared with you, and you will be weirded out and hope to never see or hear from the person who wrote this 3) you will somehow find this and find it funny, oddly charming, but ignore it 4) you will somehow find this, have some sort of reaction to it, and send some sort of reply.
I don't know your eye color because it was too dark. I don't know your name. I don't know anything about you, really. But, life is short, Kitsap County is in short supply of quality human beings, and I liked you. Some of this was serious, and some of this was supposed to be kind of serious. I guess there're only one way for you to find out for sure. So, if this finds you somehow, then tag - you're it.
From: Me
So I walked into Olympic Coffee at about 5:30 Saturday afternoon (wearing glasses and a blue Sounders FC half-zip sweatshirt) and you were working. I didn't just walk in - I wandered in aimlessly looking for bags of coffee or some signage indicating that you sold coffee for at-home use. I think this aimlessness is what made you take note and say "What can I get for you?" "Do you sell coffee by the pound," I embarrassingly asked. "We do!" you pleasantly replied, and you proceeded to show me the giant bins of coffee beans all nicely labeled. Yet, despite the labels, I wanted to try and get some minor spark of conversation going, so in all my brilliance I said "What different flavors do you have?" You smiled and said "Well..." and then continued by reading off at least ten different flavors, even making sure to inform me of which one happened to be out at the moment. I stared and listened and when you finished I dumbly answered "Oh. Hmmm...," as if any of the names meant anything to me as I pretended to contemplate my choice. Then, in order to talk to you slightly more and in order to actually find the coffee that would work best for what I was looking for, I asked "So out of all of those, what is your darkest roast?" And THEN came the moment that confirmed my initial suspicion the first time I glanced at you and saw your eyes: this person isn't just cute and friendly, she's kind and helpful and intelligent, too. And what happened in this moment which convinced me of this? You didn't just tell me your darkest roast, rather, you said "Well, the Sumatran blend is the darkest we have, but for a dark roast with better flavor I'd recommend..." So there it was. A considerate and well-thought out recommendation. I was officially smitten (okay, not really, but still - kind and considerate and it made me take even more interest in you).
From this point onward you kindly asked me about how I'd like the beans ground, and then informed me of the special 12oz. drink that comes for free with buying a pound of coffee, and then you made me a great Americano whilst I talked about the dearth of quality coffee places in Port Orchard, and then I left and wished you a nice evening. There was no real flirtation (although I suspect I had a big goofy smile on my face and probably did my best to avoid eye contact), and your smile and attitude were both amazingly radiant in a fairly poorly lit environment after having just come in from the bright sun breaks which followed the brief hailstorm. Yet, despite the superficiality of it all, something about you and your glasses, brown hair, bright smile, shiny jewelry, pleasant voice, kind conversation, the way in which you handled the giant bin of coffee beans you pulled down with the ease and grace with which Ichiro handles a baseball bat, and just your overall niceness (for lack of a better word) stood out to me. But my favorite detail of the entire eight minutes I spent there was the fact that we had the exact same verbal exchange TWICE in the course of two minutes. When I walked over to the register to pay, you asked me how my day was going and I said good and asked you the same question and you also said good. When we moved over to the espresso machine while you made the Americano, there was a seemingly long pause and you were the first to fill it by saying "How's your day going so far?" and we were off and running once more.
Now, a normal rational person would probably take the awkward silence and the repetition of the same question which you likely ask all customers as a sign that there was in fact zero interest from you in anything beyond selling me great coffee and making an excellent Americano and you were just filling the dead air with pleasantries. But, of course, I am anything but normal when it comes to interacting with women. Misreading signs is my talent. Being socially awkward is my art. Silence and avoiding eye contact are my specialties. Misinterpreting what someone means when they say it to me is my forte. Thus, I would rather interpret our duplicate second round of pleasantries about the quality of each other's day as a sign that you 1) were so interested in me that you were overwhelmed and couldn't think of what to say or 2) are slightly socially awkward (in a cute way, of course) and therefore chose to repeat the same discourse.
Thus, in reviewing my immediate feelings and reaction to those eight minutes yesterday and in reviewing and reflecting upon what I have sputtered forth so far, the main point I hope to make is this: I like you as much as anyone could like anyone based upon this brief customer/employee type of interaction. I don't typically flirt or ask people for their numbers or do any of those charming things you see the male lead do in a romantic comedy. So, in order to compensate for my crippling awkwardness and general phobia of genuine interaction, I do things like THIS. Write a long essay to a stranger. But, while I see the oddness and potential creepiness of such a choice, there are only several possible outcomes: 1) this post will be completely ignored or likely never seen by anyone 2) this post will be discovered by a friend or coworker, shared with you, and you will be weirded out and hope to never see or hear from the person who wrote this 3) you will somehow find this and find it funny, oddly charming, but ignore it 4) you will somehow find this, have some sort of reaction to it, and send some sort of reply.
I don't know your eye color because it was too dark. I don't know your name. I don't know anything about you, really. But, life is short, Kitsap County is in short supply of quality human beings, and I liked you. Some of this was serious, and some of this was supposed to be kind of serious. I guess there're only one way for you to find out for sure. So, if this finds you somehow, then tag - you're it.
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