I've been sick since Sunday, hence the bloglessness. Once a year I get a terrible bronchial infection that makes me sound like I am attempting to birth a psychotic tree frog from my throat. Also I become one of those people who is forced to spit (or -- sput! Since it's sputum I'm spitting! Ha!) on the sidewalk. Anyway, I'll spare you the details. The point is, I'm sick. And, as a result, I've been getting my "Lost" on.
"Lost" is one of those shows that I've always meant to watch but never had the time (I'm looking at you next, "The L Word," "The Wire," and "Curb Your Enthusiasm"). I watched the very first episode back in 2004, but as soon as it veered into sci-fi territory, I was kind of eh, so I turned it off. Stick a bunch of people on an island and watch them go crazy = cool. Have an invisible monster chasing after them = not cool. In my book, at least. I've always hated it when the paranormal enters into a perfectly good set-up. I'd take a crazed human killer over an alien any day of the week (but please warn me first, universe. Thanks!)
Turns out, though, millions of viewers aren't wrong -- "Lost" is good! It's not perfect (not many shows are) and you have to suspend some major disbelief at first (spoiler: over 50 people survive a fiery, high-speed plane crash with barely a scratch), but the writers are smart. Each character's story is richly layered and somehow intertwined with the stories of their fellow castaways, and I get the feeling that anything I'm like eh about will ultimately be explained. Also, every episode has what Jeff and I now call a "snap" moment -- a very satisfying and sudden "reveal" or plot twist that makes us go "Snap!" (Jeff sometimes takes a more Marcel Marceau approach and simply snaps his fingers.)
So there you go. That's been the last four days of my life. Sputum and "Lost". Not just a catchy title.