media rant du jour

Today I yap on about Lost and Heroes. And there will be spoilers. Oh yes. There will be spoilers.




Are you ready?





Last night’s Lost mini-finale, not to put too fine a point on it (say I’m the only bee in your bonnet), bit the wax tadpole. Chomped down hard. Backed up and started to sprint, in fact, in preparation for jumping a Dharma-tattooed shark. Here’s how:

• Kate, in her flashback, loved and left a guy. Um, DUH? That fact that she ditched Nathan Fillion, aka Captain Tightpants, just confirms my suspicion that for a smart girl, she’s a flaming idiot.
  
• Just in case you didn’t catch on to the fact that Action Kate is a fish out of water in a wifely role, she was WEARING AN APRON, which as everyone knows is a sure sign of domestication. It could only be a matter of time before she cast off that bond of servitude to return to her carefree, liberated life . . . of running from a federal marshal whose scrutiny influenced her every move. Ooh, the irony, right?
  
• Kate used Sawyer for some hot, grimy, closed-circuit-videoed jungle lovin’. Again, um, DUH? That’s been coming since the first time he called her Freckles. And she wouldn’t say she loved him? Once more with the DUH. Sawyer always wants what he doesn’t or can’t have. By implying that he doesn’t have her completely, she’s manipulated him the rest of the way into her back pocket. She thinks.
  
• Sawyer, after one night with Super Kate, appeared ready to kneel and be killed, suggesting that his spirit has, at long last, after weeks of gratuitous beatings, been broken. His defeat got Kate all riled, so now she’s the rest of the way in his thrall, right? Please tell me he doesn’t truly believe it, that wily James Ford has one more trick up his tattered sleeve.
  
• Jack pulled a House and decided to pervert his Hippocratic oath for personal gain. Did anybody NOT see him being a selfish enough asshole to do this? Or at least to manipulate people into believing he did this?
  
• Just before the operation, Benry casually revealed a connection to the elusive Alex. Hint: We’re supposed to be curious enough about that to tune back in come February.
  
• As they scrubbed up for surgery, Juliet murmured something about being very good at following orders. Dude, you know she’s just trying to lure Jack into some hot, grimy, closed-circuit-vidoed lovin' in the fish tank. The Other side of the island(s) is really just one big porn studio.
  

Enough soap opera consummation and conflict already! I’m much more curious about what the rest of the crew is up to — solving the mystery of the island and all that. There is some real live supernatural stuff going down over there. The interesting people are over there: Hurley, Desmond, Locke, Rose and Bernard, Sun and Jin, Claire and Aaron. Time to turn our attention back to them.

---

I also watched episode 2 of Heroes last night. It was intriguing enough to make me want more. The story is shaping up nicely, what with the paranormal abilities and time travel and shadowy conspirators and looming nuclear disaster and all. And I really like a couple of the characters already, most notably Hiro.

I will say this, though: The casting director for this show clearly has a cast-one-get-one-free coupon at the Heroin Chic Boutique. I’m not shocked that the actual heroin addict character looks like a heroin addict, but must his girlfriend also look like she’s been strung out for years? Or the blonde femme fatale? Or the politician’s sad-eyed brother? I’m OK with the Indian geneticist; I think he’s just a slim guy who grew up on a non-American diet.

But the girl who lives next door? OH MY GOD, she looks like an ALIEN with a HUGE, BULBOUS, WALLEYED HEAD perched on the BODY OF A MALNOURISHED CHILD. Seriously, that ain’t right. Her appearance goes way beyond “gamine” into “grotesque.” Disturbing. Distracting.

To be fair, though, there are plenty of healthy-looking women and men in the show as well — including the cheerleader, who looks buff rather than Buffy. There’s a strong female cop, plus a beefy (but not sitcom fat/dumb) male cop, the totally ripped politician, and pudgy Hiro. Lots to like. Lots to like.

Summary: More Heroes, less Sexual Fantasy Island.

TVjeebies

Last night was my TV night. I kicked things off with the concluding episodes of the Sci Fi Channel’s time-twisting miniseries 5ive Days to Midnight. Good show. Kept me guessing. There was actual acting in it, a refreshing change from . . . almost everything else out there. Plus, the little girl looks EXACTLY like Drew Barrymore. Netflick it if you get a chance.

And speaking of things that are not refreshing, I tuned in to watch last night’s Lost in realtime because I knew a second-tier character was going to get killed off, and I didn’t want to wait for the download to find out which one. Unfortunately, it was one of the truly interesting people on the island — so you know right away (spoiler alert) it wasn’t Jack, Kate or Charlie. And I had already predicted whose X-rays bore the lethal tumor, so that big revelation was neither.

I gotta tell ya, this show is testing my patience. In the beginning, it was a character-driven drama with some action and some very clever mystery thrown in. That’s what got me hooked. Now action scenes and rat-a-tat-tat plot twists have taken center stage, and character development comes from the valiant efforts of a few actors to squeeze some in between sweaty sprints through the jungle. Lostvivor, anyone? Or The Young and the Lost? Days of Our Stinky, Unshaven Lives?

Oh, and enough with the Sawyer torture already. That is SO X-Files fanfic.

Anyway, I capped off the evening in bed with my two favorite guys, Jon and Stephen. I’m slightly less apathetic about politics for the first time in my life thanks to these “fake” newscasters. But I’ll let you in on a little secret here: the only thing fake about their news is the people they report on. Stewart/Colbert ’08! WOO!

Switching gears: My breakfast cookies arrived earlier this week, which has sent me into an ecstasy of trans-fat-free, complex carb consumption. You want these. Trust me. Go to Erin Baker’s Wholesome Baked Goods and order a dozen (or more!) assorted cookies now! Or zero in on your favorite flavor. The peanut butter & jelly cookie is a longtime fave of mine, but the new ginger & molasses and pumpkin offerings are climbing the ranks as well. I won’t have to prepare my own breakfast for the next month and a half. These cookies are proof of God’s love.

visions

I watched the season premiere of LOST last night. It was pretty good. Jack alternately raged and wept, Kate pouted schemily, and Sawyer showed just enough skin to make the fangirls sigh. No surprises so far, obviously, but the function of a premiere is to set up the next chapter in the story. I'm willing to see how the season plays out. My interest is interesting in itself, since there's only one character on the show I really like, and it isn't any of the Big Three mentioned above.

However, the evening served as a screaming reminder of why I now download or Netflick TV shows I want to watch: because COMMERCIAL TELEVISION IS PUNISHMENT FOR HAVING EYES. The constant moronic interruptions suggest what it must be like to live with a lobotomy patient who has Tourette's Syndrome.

In other high-tech news, last night I successfully managed to display the images from my computer monitor on the TV screen. The resolution and color are not perfect, but if I wanted to create an easy-to-view on-the-spot slide show at the next family reunion, I could do it.

Also, as I was downloading a few things this morning, I noticed that iRonny hoovered up the files much more quickly than usual. Looks like my DSL upgrade has taken effect. WHEE! Y'all should check out the free video podcast from National Geographic.

Geek score for this post: 8 out of a possible 10.

P.S. Today would have been my 10th wedding anniversary. Thank God it's not.

Trek check

Yesterday, for the first time in about 25 years, channel surfing brought me face to face with Captain James T. Kirk of the Starship Enterprise. A classic Star Trek episode airing on local TV? It was a miracle. I watched the remaining minutes of the show raptly.

Seeing Captain Kirk on the small screen — Season 1 Kirk, fit, dashing, arrogant — was like traveling back in time. (Slingshot method? Wormhole? Guardian of Forever? Take your pick.) I fell in love with Star Trek when I was 10 years old, and although the ferocity of my passion has waned over time, I've remained a fan all this time. It's a simple explanation for why I am the way I am.

I'm a sci-fi fan because of Star Trek. I'd always thought planets and stars were fascinating, so when I came across people who traveled among them, my imagination took off and never came back. From Trek I branched out into the boundless possibilities of science fiction and fantasy books, TV shows and movies in an agape fandom covering everything from H.G. Wells to J.K. Rowling, from Twin Peaks to The X-Files to Men in Black. And I just got back from bonding with fellow fans at Dragon*Con.

I'm liberal-minded because of Star Trek. Though I grew up in a conservative area, my mind was full of images of the multiracial crew of the Enterprise working together to make sure beings of all kinds got a fair shake. Some of the alien civilizations Kirk encountered were led by strong, powerful women, and some of them had strange customs and beliefs, and I thought that was all terrific. Accepting the alienness of others always made more sense to me than condemning it.

Maybe I'm even sane because of Star Trek. My hometown, my college town and my grad school town did not offer a whole lot of entertainment options that didn't involve alcohol. It would have been easy to move from boredom to despair or risky behavior. Luckily, I always had somewhere to go, in my mind at least, and responsible friends to hang out with when I got there.

True, Star Trek turned me into a big geek as well. On Star Trek, it was cool to be smart, so I embraced my inner science officer and kissed traditional teenage popularity good-bye. I may not have been hip to the latest fashions or the hottest bands, but I knew that arms races were destructive, that too much of a good thing isn't necessarily a good thing, and that you can't outrun your problems even at warp speed. It seemed like a fair trade.

After nearly three decades of being a Trekker (not a Trekkie; there's a difference), I'm still boldly going. I visit new places, meet new people, try new things. I'm captain of my ship, responsible for the trail it blazes and the trail it leaves. I know there's much more to life than just what we see here. And I'm curious: What's out there?

listen up

Slow day at the office, so I'm catching up on some administrative details. And by that I mean I'm listening to Lost podcasts on Atlas while reading scintillating essays about health care.

Latest discovery: Video podcasts look a lot more videoy when I view them through the video podcast menu, not the regular (sound-only) podcast menu. D'OH!

Last night's Lost was had a little Easter egg in it for me: a character's driver's license was flashed on screen for a moment, and he's from a Twin Cities snoburb not far from mine. If you want to sound in-the-know, the city of Wayzata calls itself "Y-zetta," not "Way-zotta." There. Now you sound like a Minnesotan. Ya.

Because I am fashion-impaired, I have finally broken down and called Nordstrom's personal shopping service. I'll probably meet with a shopping assistant tomorrow after work and try to buy a work outfit or two for summer. Or maybe just one; Nordstrom ain't cheap.

But seriously. I need the help. I can't seem to find clothes anywhere between Junior Sluts and Janet Reno. Where do medium-sized, 30-something women shop for adult-but-not-dowdy clothes? This is not a rhetorical question.

Anybody out there use Skype? I'm thinking of trying this out, and trying to get my Mom to try it out, so we can talk long-distance for free. Worth it or not? All opinions welcome.

OK, time to concentrate. And by that I mean switch the iPod to NPR's Story of the Day series. Thank you, God, for technology.

amen omen

Two words: Lost podcasts.

Also making my day: the final component of my alarm system, the device that allows me to turn on a living room lamp using my keychain remote, was installed tonight. (The unit the guy brought over yesterday didn't work, so he had to come back.) The same lamp will also flash on and off if my alarm gets tripped, tipping off the neighbors that (A) my alarm has been tripped or (B) I'm operating a disco in my living room.

Making my day yesterday was a phone call that put an end to my dithering over concert plans for May 20. As I've mentioned before, on that date, Rockapella is performing in Las Vegas and SSQ (with the Gaither Homecoming) here in Minneapolis. I had been trying to decide whether to cowboy up and do the Vegas trip for my first-love band or stay home and cheat on them with gospel singers.

Yesterday, the family friends who have invited me to the Gaither Homecoming in the past called and invited me for this year's concert. As usual, they're generously paying for the ticket and providing transportation from their house to the venue, not to mention hosting a cheesecake bonanza afterward. Plus, they invited my mother as well, and she agreed to come. Since nobody offered to pay my way to Vegas or feed me and Mom cheesecake in the glow of neon lights and showgirl tights, I made my decision on the spot: gospel wins.

If you'd asked me a year ago how that one would turn out, I would have performed the anatomically dubious feat of laughing in your face while kicking your ass. Today, no contest. Hmph. How times do change.