LOST

There are so many interpretations and reasons as to why the tv show "LOST" has been so successful and addictive, that I find it hard to know where exactly to begin. I know that Lost finished some time ago, yet it was brought up in a conversation the other day, as I was trying to explain to someone I just met what exactly had happened on that show - a futile attempt it would prove to be later on. It did made me realise though, that Lost is a tv phenomenon that has touched the lives of all its viewers and we are cursed (like Hurley) to carry its stigma for the rest of our lives.

Lost is about the crash of Flight Oceanic 815 on a mysterious island, following the survival of 42 passengers and their dealings with the island's weird phenomena, its seemingly hostile inhabitants and of course, their relationships with each other. The opening episode is one of the most grasping to be ever shown on tv. A plane crashes. There are dead bodies, despair, agony and blood everywhere. Lost creates more deaths in its Pilot episode, than most tv shows do throughout their entire life span. It immediately grabs the viewer, it creates tension, drama, suspense. Screw the f-reality shows like "Survivor". This is as real as it gets.

Only there should be no survivors after such a horrible crash. There should be no island in that part of the ocean. There should be no polar bears in a tropical island or weird noises tearing down trees. Add more suspense and a lot of mystery and sci-fi action in there, and the viewers are already glued for the next few episodes -at least. Then throw in some cliffhangers. In fact, throw in a few in each episode. Who doesn't love a good twist? Most movies barely have one - at the very end of the film. An episode of Lost has one every quarter of an hour. No time for the viewer to glance off the screen. No time to pee, fetch some pop corn, or yawn. It keeps you right at the edge of your seat. Blink, and you just might lose the meaning of the entire episode. As for the poor bastard who would dare knock on my door or call my phone, let's just say the island monster fury was nothing compared to mine!

Then of course come the characters. Perhaps the most important ingredient of the recipe. They can't get more weak, more complex, more human than the way Lost portrays them. If you wish to watch a show about super-humans, this is not the one for you. Lost makes its characters feel real. Jack Shephard is no Jack Bauer. He weeps, he laughs, he eats, he yells, he pees, he showers, he gets laid, he is a leader and he is probably the most broken character of all. There is not a single viewer who could not find a character to associate with. The writing, producing, directing and acting of these personalities makes us love them, hate them, sympathize with them and even in some cases, desperately want to punch them (Benjamin Linus of course).

The Lost characters feel, think, act and react - sometimes selfishly, sometimes foolishly, other times for the "Greater Good" - whatever that may represent to each character. And we get to know exactly why they do what it is they do. Here enter the flashbacks, who shine light on the characters' lives prior to the island. Who are they, how did they get there, why are they the way they are now? The "flashback" mechanism is quite prominent in Lost and makes us feel and associate with the characters even more. It makes us understand their reasoning, their logic, their emotions. And let's be honest, we have all thought of a past memory at some point in our lives, when faced with a similar situation or an important decision - something which perhaps became a lot more enhanced after watching Lost!

Finally, throw in the "flashforwards", play with irony around a little bit, keep adding to the mystery, kill a main character (or two or three) every now and then, build on suspension, throw in some new characters, keep formulating unpredictable plot twists and make your viewer become part of the island and its survivors, and you have in your hands one of the most successful tv shows ever. Many people complained that the ending was disappointing for three reasons. First reason was that they didn't get it. If you don't understand it, come to me and I can explain pretty much anything to you. If you keep missing the point though and fail to understand the basics, such as that Jack and Claire were half-siblings, then why the fuck have you been watching this for the past six years? Go back to watching Glee or something.

The second reason is because not all questions had been answered by the end. Ok, fair enough, there are a lot of mysteries still hanging out there, problems not resolved, plot-holes not filled in and parts not explained. In defense to the show and its producers though, what the hell did you expect? That Jacob would gather everyone around a camp fire and start answering questions, while Jack was leaning on Sawyer's shoulder and Kate was sitting on their lap? Lost is a show about life (and death). And we only ever get a fraction of our questions answered throughout our lives, so why would Lost be any different?

The third reason, which comes from those who somewhat understood the concept but are too arrogant/ignorant/narrow-minded/simply hurt that the show is over, is that "Lost was a never a religious show, so why THAT particular ending?". First of all, there is no mention of god, heaven, Jesus, the Elysian Fields, St Mary, Buddha, Zeus, hell or any other deities at the end of the show. We simply witness the characters in an imaginary world (love the twist there), after death, until they are finally re-united and "ready to move on", which happens through a doorway in a church, towards the light. Yes, it does hint to heaven. No, we don't really know what is happening to them afterwards, so you can interpret it any way you like. 

Then come the viewers who claim to be "atheists" hence their disappointment at the ending. Who cares? When you write a show, you can conclude it any way you like! And please don't tell me you believe that there is an island somewhere out there that is able to shift positions on the earth, that it shoots people back and forth in time, that it cures paralysis and cancer, BUT the ONLY problem is that you don't believe in god, therefore the show lets you down. Lost has been a sci-fi show from the start and it tackles and depicts a lot of genres and aspects of life: survival, relationships, deception, science, drama, parenthood, drug addiction, death, illnesses, mystery, fright - the list is endless. And of course, an important aspect that may not be present in most of the viewers' lives: the paranormal. Which is where the afterlife truly belongs.

For six incredibly amazing years, Lost has created a landmark on the tv history. It is a show that will not be soon forgotten. It is not a perfect show, but it is close to that. It is captivating and moving. Well done to its brilliant team, its writers, directors, crew, producers and actors. Thank you for this unique experience.

There is, however, one burning question that is still stuck with me: Why weren't any of the survivors smokers?

A Bit Of Sexual Education

I read in the news recently, that a mother of four had raped her 11-year old daughter as part of her “sexual education”. The mother was sentenced to four years and everyone lived happily ever after. I cannot even begin to discuss the disgust I felt when I first read this case. Yet, as I keep on thinking about it, thinking about all the crimes committed every day, two extreme scenarios wander around my brain.

My first reaction, as is of course every “normal” human being’s first reaction, is to feel disgust and anger towards this animal, who dares call herself a “mother”. The physical, psychological and emotional scars her daughter has to endure for the rest of her life are hard to imagine. In order to satisfy her own carnal, sick, twisted desires, the “mother” raped her own child. Which makes me wonder though if she should indeed be in prison or in a mental institute. Then again, isn’t every criminal, every murdered, rapist, kidnapper, a bit sick and twisted in the head? 

So then I’m starting to think, if this woman lived in ancient Greece or Rome, things would be a lot different. Brothers at some point had to take the virginity of their sisters, young boys had to sleep with their mentors before entering adulthood and becoming true men and soldiers, slaves were forced into performing all sorts of sexual activities. Those societies accepted all of these things as “normal” and it was considered a disgrace if one refused to take part in such acts.

However, the human species has evolved throughout the centuries and the passing of time. We are now an older species, more knowledgeable, wiser and more just- supposedly. I can see arguments on both sides for these. On one hand, the advances in technology, science and medicine, the rise of democracy and of the legal system, the flourish of arts indicate that we have matured, that we are perhaps shifting away from our carnal desires and our urges to climb up trees and hump anything in sight. On the other hand though, we have endless wars, nuclear weapons, corruption, greed and a rise in violent and horrific crimes. Have we actually matured or are we just kidding ourselves, adapting to whatever is “normal” and “socially acceptable” in our current times and society, dismissing everything else and labelling it as sick and/or criminal.

Yet I return to my initial thoughts and feel that this woman has committed a terrible crime. Whatever her reasoning might have been, whatever desires or little voices in her head urged her to do so, she failed to do what the number one rule has been in nature since the dawn of time: Protect her child. She should be stripped off her dignity and her rights as a mother. And she deserves a severe punishment. Which of course brings up the next debate: Prison or mental institute? Or secret door number three: Death?

Superman’s greatest weakness was not kryptonite and was not his lust for Lois Lane. It was the fact that he had “moral standards” and kept himself from turning against the law. He could never bring himself to kill Lex Luthor and end thousands of people’s misery and agony. He had to go by the book. He had to go by the law. Lex Luthor deserved prison. So whilst Superman is trying to gather evidence to lock him up, Lex is torturing people and planning to rule and/or destroy the world. And if Superman succeeds and locks him up, the citizens of Metropolis will sigh in relief – and work hard, pay taxes so that Lex Luthor has a nice cell, with tv, gym and internet, so that one day he can walk out of prison as a free man and begin his torturing again. Wouldn’t things be much simpler and better off for everyone, if Clark could just grow a pair and fry up Lex with his fiery eyes?

Without having all the facts about the rapist “mother” and without concluding whether she should belong in prison or in a mental institute, I cannot help but wonder about all the other rapists and murderers, that the society has to feed, clothe, accommodate. If it was possible at all, I would say “drop them all in a deserted island and let them deal with each other”. But since this can’t be the case, then why not end their lives – same way they have ended the lives of others either physically or emotionally? Again I can hear the arguments in my head: we have no right to act as gods, we are as bad as them if we do that, what about the innocent ones. Fine, you don’t want to kill them and you want to keep them around, wasting on them every hard-working taxpayer’s money? Then make some use out of them. Put them into some kind of manual labour. Test novel drugs on them, before releasing them to the public.

You think I’m being harsh in wanting them to die or suffer? Think of the 11-year old who has just lost her entire life, thanks to the person she was meant to trust the most.

Not That Into You

Recently a book fell into my hands (coincidentally after I had watched the movie) called "He's just not that into you". Fortunately, I paid no money for either. Whilst there are some layers of truth in the stories and paradigms depicted in the book, overall I kept constantly wondering which fairyland the authors had crawled out from. Their intentions are noble and they portray straightforward and honest opinions about relationships, what is wrong with them and how they should be. This might in fact help a lot of people, especially women, see some parallelism into their life, reflect upon the choices they have made and realise that perhaps the partner of choice, is not a choice or an option at all.

The first fault of the authors though, is that they treat women as one species and men as another. Although it is the general acceptance that women are from Venus and men are from Mars, women like shopping and men like sports, women cry in public whereas men fart, the authors show clear signs of failure to understand that not everything is black and white. Each individual, despite of sex or sexuality, is unique and whilst he or she might exhibit traits of others, the human variable is still present in each and every one of us. Human behaviour is not always science, despite what biologists or psychologists might have you believe. The authors simply categorise people as “men” or “women”. Each case is different and the excuse of one man that is “just not that into you” might very well be the reality and truth of another. And despite what Hollywood and Disney films prompt you people to believe, love takes time to develop and flourish. And it takes even more time to get to know a person for who they truly are and what their true motive is. Unless, he simply shags and kicks you out of bed the next second. In that case, walk out before you make anymore fool of yourself.

Secondly, the authors seem to suggest that women are to be chased every single second of their breathing lives and if a man fails to do so, then simply “he’s just not that into you”. Ok, if he is making no effort to contact you, if he kicks you out of bed right after he shagged you, if he sleeps around with 3 other women and if he puts his friends, family, job, sports, alcohol, gambling and “Lost” (respect!) above you, then yes, we can easily conclude that he doesn’t really like you that much. Whatever happened to the women of this century though? The ones demanding equal rights, the ones wanting equal opportunities in life and in career, the ones claiming to be independent, strong and will-powered. That a book would portray them as damsels in distress, waiting for the prince on a white horse and shiny armour to sweep them off their feet and worship them as goddesses for the rest of their lives, is very insulting, in my opinion, to women.

Relationships nowadays are all about balance. No, actually, good relationships nowadays are all about balance. You might be proud that you got yourself a stable relationship, but overlook important facts such as that you don’t actually love the person, that you are only staying there because of insecurities, or that you are a fucking doormat and have no control of your life anymore. A relationship comes with shared emotions, shared responsibilities and shared experiences. Sure, each person should retain their own identity, but unless you are willing to meet the other person half way, then don’t expect from them to travel all the way. Men need and want to be chased and feel needed too. Human lives are way too busy and complicated to play games. A woman should not sit at home, hands folded, waiting for the guy to call every day, take her out, pay the bills, send flowers, drop everyone and everything that makes him what he is, simply to hold your hand and stroke your hair. If not a 50-50 effort, then let’s settle for a 40-60 at least. Women have to make an effort too, in order to show the guy “yes, I am into you too”. Otherwise, doubts kick in and doubts can nest in both female and male brains.

An important message that authors are trying to get across, is to remain true to yourself. And I completely support that, whether you are a man or a woman. Some signs might be there and they might be crystal clear. If you are unhappy about the situation, then do something about it. If there is no hope, then walk away and find someone else who is on the same page as you. But if you are uncertain which page you are on, or if your partner is flipping through the book trying to find your page, but just needs more time, maybe you shouldn’t be so harsh to say “he/she is just not that into me”. Maybe you could flip through the pages a little bit yourself. Or maybe you should buy a different book.

Pilot

We all live with restrictions. Restrictions of age; whether it be too young or too old. Restrictions placed upon us from other people; parents, bosses, children, spouses, peers. Restrictions based on our location, money, background, resources, contacts. Others may be physical, psychological or emotional barriers. Yet the sad fact that remains, the bitter truth which lays a common secret to all, is that the only truly free man is the dead man.

Throughout our lives though, do we try to overcome these barriers and break free from these restrictions or do we seek to make them foundations of our future to ensure stability and security? As if humans gain some form of masochistic pleasure from bitching constantly about what they can’t do, instead of actually getting out there and doing it. Yet I will not claim to be one of those positive encouraging thinkers that will urge everyone to drop everything and go live their dream. Reality unfortunately kicks in every single time – and it can kick pretty well and pretty damn hard.

I have been thinking of the idea of starting a blog for quite some time now; years perhaps. Yet I wish that my body was as active as my brain. There was always a restriction, a limitation, an excuse: too tired from work, too busy with other stuff, too emotionally and hormonally unstable, too sick. However the most important of all, was the fact that I am lazy as fuck. It is pretty discouraging being in possess of a mind that is constantly on work but having a body that refuses to catch up with it. And how can it really? Perhaps this is why it’s not even making the effort – because it knows the brain will always beat it. And the brain has a mind of its own; it will not stop and take a nap like the hare did, so that the tortoise can catch up.

Having run out of excuses though and since we are (fortunately) approaching the end of the world as we know it (more of this another time), I decided that it was time to put my ass and fingers into work. As filthy as that sounds, my intentions on this occasion are completely innocent. I feel that in order to start something new, in order to be novel and creative, in order to push barriers aside and start from scratch, is to have the innocence of a child.

There was a boy once that used to believe in monsters and mythical worlds. Gods and aliens. Demons and angels. Vampires and psychics. Witches and yetis. Not Santa though for some reason. That boy grew up thinking “there are more worlds than the one you can hold in your hands”.  As the young boy began to grow older, he gradually came to the harsh realisation that this may not be the case. He lost faith in weird creatures and mythological worlds. He lost faith in gods and demons. And amongst all that, he lost faith in humans too. He lost his faith in love, in compassion, in trust. But the worse of all was perhaps the fact that he lost faith in his own self.

As I embark in this journey (with or without the rest of you fuckers), I cannot know nor do want to try to predict the outcome. Besides, this is just words on a blank paper. Tabula rasa. I am not climbing Mt fucking Everest. I do know however what I would like to get out of it. And of the things that should go on the top of the list, is that I want to re-gain that faith. I want to believe.