UDFA

Day One.
Never a consideration.
He had a distaste
for the flash and the hype,
so he didn’t pay attention
as the round passed.

Day Two.
A fleeting fantasy.
Settling the issue in the top 50%
was a preposterous proposition.
Still, as the last few were selected
he began to fidget.

Day Three.
The consensus of his existence.
Everyone agreed on it,
so he accepted it as fact;
except, as the names were called,
his was not among them.

The Final Selection.
“Don’t worry, it’d be stupid not to pick you.”
They were stupid,
and he wondered why
until he found out
the scouting report read:

“All of the faculties,
none of the intangibles.”

The Midside: S6E05 Lighthouse

This week on Everwood, Andy, still dealing with the ramifications of a tragic family death, desperately tried to figure out how to connect with his son, Ephram, who snuck out of the house to audition for a prestigious music academy.

Wait, the characters’ names were Jack and David, and the show is called LOST? Never heard of it.

In all seriousness, for those of us that remember the show, this week’s flashsideways was extremely reminiscent of Everwood. Andy Brown, a talented New York neurosurgeon, moves his family to the small Colorado town of Everwood after the death of his wife. There he tries to reconnect with his piano prodigy son, Ephram. The show was actually very good in the first couple of seasons before, spoiler alert, they went with the pregnancy storyline.

There was no pregnancy in this week’s storyline, but there was a surprise birth. The fact that Jack P had a son named David is not only the most prominent difference between the flashsideways and the original timeline so far but also demonstrated an important concept philosophically. David’s actions represented a breaking of the cycle for Shepard men, standing in stark contrast to Jack in the original timeline.

The key to understanding the importance of David’s actions is in Hurley’s conversation with Jacob. There Jacob seemingly differentiated Hurley from Jack. Actually, I would argue, he pointed out how they are the same, but Hurley just wasn’t smart enough (he never has been) to understand how. We are smart enough, so that idea is what I will be focusing on this week:

Who is the bigger dupe, Jack or Hurley? The answer isn’t what you might first think.

(And no, this isn’t just because I hate Jack. I want him to get better, but every time he starts on the path, he ends up negating all his progress.)

WHAT WOULD QUINN MALLORY DO?

The key to understanding Jack, O or P, is in what Jacob told Hurley at the end of the episode:

“Jack is here because he has to do something. He can’t be told what that is. He has to find it himself. Sometimes you can just hop in the back of someone’s cab and tell ‘em what they’re supposed to do. Other times, you have to let ‘em look out at the ocean for awhile.”

Despite all of his shortcomings, Jack has always been a man of science. He needs to see and understand things for himself before he believes them. Now, Jacob is attempting to use that quality against him, but we’ll talk about the morality of that action later. For the moment, it’s important to figure out why someone who thinks in a way that is so admirable, understanding the importance of your own perception, is so tragic, paralyzed by fear and thus unable to make a decision, or concept.

Jack P’s son David taught him, and us, this important lesson. Through a deft bit of writing, as always, Lindelof and Cuse led us to believe that David was the same as his father, a bitter angry mopey emo teenager who pouts and listens to music all the time, but really doesn’t accomplish anything. Through much of the flashsideways, it seemed as if they were showing him this way so we would feel bad for Jack. “Man, even in his flashsideways, Jack’s life is tragic. The guy just sucks.” However, we soon got the sense that something was lurking under the surface.

Perhaps the difference in Jack P’s life, in contrast to Jack O’s life, was his mother. In the scene in the office while looking for the will, she seemed much more sympathetic and understanding than she did in the original timeline. Here she was able to pinpoint what she saw as the basic error of Shepard men and communicate it to Jack P. Maybe she was able to do so throughout Jack P’s entire life. Maybe that’s how he was able to have a son and make the break through at the end of the episode. Except, for all her positivity in this episode, she still missed the point. The desired ability to communicate well comes from one place, and it took David teaching his father it to finally get Jack P to open up and do as his mother said.

(Side note: It’s interesting to note here the difference between the metaphors of the white rabbit and the lighthouse. With the former, you are following someone. With the latter, you are communicating with someone. This dichotomy gets a bit muddled in that Jack O is still following Jacob, but the point holds true for the episode. Jack P went from following his father to communicating with his son. He went from the white rabbit to the lighthouse.)

During the episode, I made a joke while Jack P was all angsty about his son’s disappearance through rebellious flight. I pointed out that he had the best juvenile delinquent kid ever. He didn’t sneak out of the house to get drunk or high or join a gang. He snuck out of the house to audition for a prestigious music academy. To a certain extent, for me, David’s actions are very surprising and, arguably, only possible in fiction. By rebelling through productivity, keeping his talent and goals to himself, David demonstrated a wisdom far beyond his years, a wisdom that most adults I know and meet don’t even have. Heck, I might not even have it (even though I intellectually understand it).

What David’s actions demonstrated is what Jack, P or O, has always lacked: Self-esteem. Someone who rebels through self destructive methods is only saying one thing: I don’t like myself. In contrast, David said the opposite: I love myself. We definitely see the parallels and similarities between him and his father with the way he approaches his gift. In their discussion following his performance, David chastises himself for missing a couple notes. Jack P responds that it sounded perfect to him. David’s perfectionism is parallel to Jack’s desire to fix everything. They both want something to be as good as it can be, and they want to use their talents to do so. The difference, however, is how they are motivated, which goes back to the self-esteem point.

David is motivated internally, whereas Jack is motivated externally. We can see this dichotomy best through Jack O. He doesn’t want to fix himself, he wants to fix everyone else and the world. Likewise, in this episode, he explains why he came back to the island. He was broken and thought the island could fix him. Nothing externally can ever fix you. You can only fix yourself. David, in his spirit of youth, understood this idea of being internally motivated. You can’t succeed at anything if you can’t take care of yourself. You can’t take care of yourself if you don’t have self-esteem and are externally motivated.

That fact is why Jack O, despite all his progress, is still a tragic figure and will probably have a tragic end in the series. It’s also why he’s arguably a worse dupe than Hurley. Presented with lots of information, rather than figure out what it means and how it fits into his plan, he destroys it and pontificates on how it affected him. In other words, he is completely focused on whatever the other person’s plan is. OK, so, Jacob was watching you, are you going to sit around and be mad about it or factor that information into the pursuit of your own agenda? Jack always chooses the former, which is why Jacob says he needs to let him stare out at the ocean. He knows that Jack isn’t thinking about himself right now. He’s thinking about the island and Jacob’s plan. Contrast this perspective with Sawyer who, last episode, “joined” the MiB because he wanted to know the answers and figure out what to do with them. In many ways, Jack is the worst kind of dupe. His external motivation makes him easy to push from place to place because he’s never asking, “What about me? What about Raven?”

Yes, that was a reference to the dark brooding pro-wrestling gimmick. But that comparison is exactly the point. Raven was dark and brooding because he was made to feel guilty for asking that question. Similarly, Jack has so little self-esteem that he has no ability to communicate or reason properly.

David is more mature than Jack O, crazy, huh?

HEY, AT LEAST IT BUILDS CHARACTER

The growth of Hurley in Season 6 is continuing how I thought it would. This episode is exactly why I didn’t think Sayid’s body had been taken over by Jacob. It would have killed this entire arc for Hurley. What’s interesting is he’s starting to resemble Hurley P that we saw in Locke’s flashsideways. He’s stepping up and becoming a calm and collected leader. This type of personality contrasts drastically with the Hurley we saw at the beginning of the series, passing out over the blood when holding Marshall Mars down and spelling bodies “b-o-d-y-s” to treat and spare Walt from the discomfort he was feeling.

The misspelling, though, reminds us of the most important character trait Hurley has: Not only is he uneducated, but he’s not too bright either. The evidence for this claim is apparent throughout the series. I also don’t mean to look down upon him for his level of intellect. I point it out because it explains the decisions he makes. Take how Hurley P dealt with Locke P in “The Substitute.” Locke P explained that he had just been fired, so what does Hurley P do? He offers Locke P help in finding a job, even giving a personal reference to Rose P, one of his employees, for him. While this action demonstrates the reason everyone loves Hurley--he has a positive sense of life--it also very clearly demonstrates his poor decisions making. Why would you help a man who was just fired from your company find a job? You wouldn’t. Why would you bad mouth a manager, Randy Nations, yet continue to employ him? Hurley, in either universe, simply doesn’t have the tools to be wise.

Enter Jacob, who understands how Hurley is, and even tells him to his face. Hurly simply doesn’t have the tools to properly deal with someone like Jacob. Instead, Jacob can get in the back of his cab and tell him what to do, tell him to go back to an insane island and carry a guitar case without knowing what’s in it or opening it to find out. If someone were to tell you that, what would you do? I know what I would do, and Hurley did the opposite. He did exactly as he was told without asking a single question. He even carried it through time, holding onto while living in Dharma times, driving around with it in the van, just in case (pun ftw). How can someone exert that kind of effort for instructions that he knows nothing about? I certainly couldn’t. Here, of course, is where people will enter an argument for faith, which is actually pertinent to the overall theme of LOST. Jacob is well on his way to acting like the Christian conception of God does.

Hurley, likewise, is acting like the Christian conception of a religious believer does. This turn for his character has arguably been foreshadowed since the character of his mother who was extremely religious and talked about Jesus often. Except, this turn is a bit strange as, up until this point, Hurley has seemingly gotten along, and often chosen to side with, Locke and Sawyer. As we’re beginning to see the drawing of the line in the sand that has been foreshadowed since Season 1, Hurley is straddling it more than any other character except perhaps Kate. Of course, his apparent siding with Jacob at this point is exactly why he could be seen as the ultimate dupe.

Continuing the theme from last week as faith being bad because it is necessarily anti-rational, Hurley is necessarily a dupe because he’s not using his mind. In fact, his lack of education and intellect makes him the ultimate dupe in many ways. He’s not often going to question what anyone says. He’s also not going to look too deeply into situations. True, listening allowed him to tell off Jackie Chan and get under the Asian master’s skin, but it wasn’t really his fortitude coming through; it was Jacob’s.

Despite all of this explanation, I don’t actually believe Hurley is a worse dupe than Jack. True, he should take more pride in himself, attempt to educate himself and maximize his intellect. True, he should attempt to rely on his own judgment rather than others. However, even though he doesn’t do those things, he understands that his choices ultimately aren’t his. In contrast, Jack works so hard at looking out at the ocean that he convinces himself that ideas other people give him, such as his father and Jacob, are his own. It’s worse when you have the ability and can somehow convince yourself that other peoples’ ideas are your own.

Does this differentiation between Hurley and Jack matter much for LOST? No, both are being duped by Jacob (which leads perfectly into my final section). However, it makes a difference to each of us in our own lives. It’s important to make sure that we’re actually thinking for ourselves and not convincing ourselves that other peoples’ ideas are our own.

LOSTOLOGY

Once again, I’d like to discuss the difference between MiB and Jacob, as I believe this episode places a finer point on the discussion of which is “light” and which is “dark.” The key here is what differentiates manipulation from non-manipulation. It’s clear that both Jacob and MiB have an agenda, though we are unclear what both of their agendas are. What’s more important is the information we have regarding their agendas and how we have it. Over the past two weeks we’ve been shown two competing methods for bringing people to your side. Not coincidentally, last episode was a Locke episode and this episode was a Jack episode.

Assuming he wasn’t lying, the MiB was up front with what he wanted and what was going on. He told Sawyer that what he wants is to leave the island and actually led him to and explained the cave to him. Furthermore, he was extremely up front with Richard. Consider the following excerpt from their conversation in “The Substitute:”

MiB: “Oh, Richard, I’m sorry. You mean, you’ve been doing everything he told you all this time, and he never said why? I would never have done that to you. I would never have kept you in the dark.”

Richard: “And what would you have done?”

MiB: “I would have treated you with respect. Come with me, and I promise I’ll tell you everything.”

If you are starting from the premise that the MiB is bad, then you are going to think that he is pulling one of the oldest religious tricks in the book: Purporting to have all the information in order to get you to follow him. If you are starting from the premise that the MiB is good, then you are going to think that he is doing as he said, showing you respect by telling you the truth. Which are you going to think when you don’t assume either premise? I can’t tell you what to think, but I can share my thoughts.

There are two major pieces of information. The troublesome bit of information is MiB’s tendency towards violence. He did attack Richard, kill Bram and company, and kill Eko and the Pilot. However, he did apologize to Richard for his attack, explaining why he did so, and only killed Bram and company when they attacked him first. The writers even pointed this out even further by having Sawyer point a gun at him but not fire it, insinuating that the MiB will not attack unless threatened. The positive bit of information is that the MiB has told people things that Jacob never has, most notably introducing the idea of candidates into the series (which is being treated as true by the writers through things such as the sign at David’s audition). So far, the MiB has been more of what he claimed to be than Jacob. He hasn’t even really badmouthed Jacob.

In contrast, Jacob has been very underhanded and deceptive about everything he’s done. He is, in every sense of the word, the ultimate social planner. Signified by his loom in “The Incident,” Jacob pulls everyone’s strings and pretends he is giving them free will and choice. Jacob is the ultimate meddler, and thus there is no way to see him as good. He subverts volitional consciousness, planning out other peoples’ lives for them. Unlike the MiB, he doesn’t treat people as equals, acting as if they are inferior by withholding information like a a parent. But if he is truly superior, why doesn’t he just do things himself? He doesn’t do things himself because he can’t, which means he isn’t superior.

What’s most interesting is how the definitions of these two characters closely resemble the traditional definitions of God and the Devil. Now consider the heavy use of mirror symbolism in this episode, and the use of the storytelling device of a parallel universe this season. Both of these things reflect but also invert the status quo. Likewise, I believe we are not only headed for an inversion of the Jacob/MiB dichotomy, but an inversion of our understanding of what is philosophically good and bad.

FREDDY ADIEU

Epic Quote of the week: David’s mini-Jack-face when listening to the speech his father giving him about having what it takes. Though not an actual quote, the hilarity of it makes me wonder if in the script it was written “David makes Jack-face” and/or they auditioned actors for the role of Jack’s son based upon how well they could emulate Matthew Fox.

The inversion idea I ended the LOSTology section with has been present throughout the series. Personally, I have been able to see it from the beginning because of how I live my life. Now, I understand it one a deeper level because I am more philosophically informed. Watch the new episodes with this idea, re-watch old episodes with this idea, but, most of all, I ask you to do one thing with the claim:

Think about it.

The Midside: S6E04 The Substitute

…and every once in awhile an episode comes along that you just don’t know what to do with.

Except, that statement’s not true. I do know what to do with this episode: Rewatch it over and over again and celebrate it. The problem this episode presents is that it’s hard to conceptualize where to begin (and end) a discussion of it. Though only two characters were featured, the story was so content-heavy that I have to imagine everyone’s brain going into content overload the way mine is. After viewing the episode, my spool unspooled threads about Jacob, the MiB, Sawyer, Eko, Christian, Claire, the final scene of the series, and Walt. Yes, I even found a way to explain away the Walt storyline. Are all these threads suitable to share? No, not at all. Why do I mention them? To illustrate that we’re now at a point where any new information that is revealed will be backwards applicable on an absurd amount of levels--so many levels that it may be hard to distinguish which are important and which are frivolities as a result of our overexposure to this series.

This week, I will be focusing on four major ideas: The faith journey and John Locke (P), Sawyer’s apparent “turn” to the “dark side,” candidacy, and the morality of the MiB (and, by association, Jacob). Hopefully, I’ll pinpoint the really important issues and not inconsequential gibberish. (Although, sometimes the latter can be much more fun.)

Not to give Sarnoff any credit as a writer, but it all basically boils down to one line, said by Rose. (OK, so maybe this episode is the best Sarnoff has penned, and maybe it represents talent on her part that there’s a theme and it’s encapsulated in one line. I admit these things reluctantly.) While lecturing Locke, Rose said the following about her cancer and life:

"...I had a hard time accepting it, but eventually I got past the denial part and I got back to living whatever life I've got left."

Denial is evasion. Acceptance is living in accordance with reality. That choice (yes, evasion is a choice) is essentially what this episode was all about.

WHAT WOULD QUINN MALLORY DO?

As we all could have, and probably should have, predicted, this episode showed John Locke becoming the opposite of what he is on the island: A man of self-esteem.

Wait, didn’t I just say that this episode was about evasion and acceptance? That choice doesn’t have anything to do with self-esteem. You’re stupid, Jay. I’m never reading your column ever again.

OK, done with your childish outburst? Good, then let me explain it to you, through the character of John Locke, his walkabout, and his catchphrase.

Locke’s walkabout is, and always had been, the embodiment of evasion for his character. Rather than planning to do something he could actually possibly do, he wished the world to be something else and acted accordingly. As we saw in "Walkabout" and this episode, this wishing ultimately led to his suffering, which we saw manifest in different ways. The initial version of his suffering was his screaming of, “Don’t tell me what I can’t do,” the ultimate evasion catchphrase. Like an insolent child rebelling against his parents’ rules, the yeller of the phrase is refusing to acknowledge that he is bound by the same laws as everyone else. In the case of Locke, he was refusing to acknowledge that being in a wheelchair meant he couldn’t do certain things. (And yes, the obvious necessary statement now is that the MiB is also evading reality by uttering the catchphrase as well. He is refusing to acknowledge the rules he is, apparently, forced to play by.)

The walkabout, in both universes, became the embodiment of his evasion. He knew if he could just go on it, it would prove that he could do what he wanted, that he wasn’t bound by the laws of reality. He set an impossible standard for himself by living outside of reality. He knew he could never live up to it because doing so made life easier for him, or so he believed. In actuality, it demonstrated a lack of self-esteem. Rather than live the best possible life he could, he dreamt the best possible life he couldn’t. And when he was actually given his walkabout, through a plane crash, he turned to the only explanation that he could: Faith.

Faith is the ultimate evasion. Sorry, religious people; check it at the entrance to the Midside. You’re more than welcome to pick it up when you leave, but when you’re here, you acknowledge the truth. Faith is the refusal to look for explanations. You don’t seek to understand the world, you seek to take from the world. Without any conception of the causal relationships that bond us, you exist within them, fulfilling your end automatically, not out of choice. You don’t think. You simple are. And the reason you act this way is almost always a lack of self-esteem.

Like Locke banging on the hatch asking to be told what to do next, with faith you refuse to think about what to do next because you don’t believe you can figure out what to do next. Since you can’t figure anything out, you pass the buck to something higher, whatever name you want to give it to, because there must be something higher that "understands" better than you. Here is the lack of self-esteem. You don’t believe you can understand. That statement is a profound, and often very difficult to understand, perspective on self esteem. It’s also why these types of people, like Locke, believe in ideas like destiny. If there is destiny, your life is out of your control. It doesn’t matter what you can’t do.

But all of this is Locke O. It doesn’t have anything to do with Locke P, does it?

It is important to discuss these matters because we must draw the distinction between the two characters to understand the point of the episode (and ultimately the point of LOST). I have argued over and over again that Locke O was the ultimate dupe of the universe. I have endorsed a negative view of the faith themes on the LOST. However, the debate is not as clear cut as I am saying it is, and Locke P’s story brings to light this issue.

Locke P’s journey in this episode was one of acceptance--of accepting his life the way it was and realizing he had the right to be, and the ability to be, happy. The story began as a parody of itself. The opening scene of the over-the-top tragic and self-hating Locke is one of the funniest moments of the series (and brilliantly acted by Terry O’Quinn, I might add). It let us know what they were going to be discussing: How does a man who hates himself this much continue to exist?

Except, we quickly learn that he doesn’t hate himself as much as Locke O did. He has people who care about him. Most notably, he hasn’t pushed Helen away, and they are engaged. Also, he seems to have some sort of a positive relationship with his father. No, this Locke seems to have some sort of self-esteem. He isn’t exactly Locke O, but how they are similar is extremely important.

The John Locke archetype is about the physical inadequacies that we all see in ourselves and can either hate ourselves for or accept as part of reality. With Locke, it is taken to the extreme, as he was given a disability. He was confined to a wheelchair, unable to walk. It’s extreme because that’s what Romanticism does. It exaggerates certain themes in order to make a point. With Locke, we are meant to identify with him, to consider how we address our own physical inadequacies. Me? I’m a short guy. I’ll never play in the NBA. Do I tell Rose to not tell me what I can’t do? No, I ask her what my options are and work within them. And if I don’t like those options, I ask what I can do to change them. Are my choices limited by reality? Yes, but they aren’t destroyed.

This realization is the journey Locke P took. It is the exact opposite journey that Locke O took. One character is dead. The other is living and evidence suggests he will be happy (based on Rose’s quote). Surely we’ll see more of Locke P in Ben P’s episode. The dichotomy is drawn again. The flash sideways was about the problem with faith, but the island story seemed to be about having faith. As Ben O eulogized Locke O, he called Locke O a man of faith and a better man than he would ever be because of it. So, which is it?

(Not so coincidentally, this question is heavily tied up in the Jacob and MiB relationship. Who Ben thinks he didn’t have faith in was Jacob. Who he really didn’t have faith in was himself. So, in a way, didn’t Jacob actually cause Locke’s death. Welcome to left field.)

HEY, AT LEAST IT BUILDS CHARACTER

And among the anti-Sawyer fans there was much rejoicing. We have truly returned to the S1 dynamic when Sawyer seemed like the bad guy. I recently started watching S1 again (I’m an addict, I know). Now that I am more rational than when I first watched the series, I can intellectually understand why people disliked Sawyer at the beginning. However, the moment he begins to speak the truth, I find it difficult to believe anyone can honestly dislike him. This theme continued in this episode.

There is no arguing that Sawyer is in a dark personal place right now. Whereas Locke’s archetype is about physical inadequacies, Sawyer’s archetype is about a just universe. At the beginning of the series, he believed the universe was just, but reconciled his unhappiness with it by hating himself. It wasn’t that the universe sucked. He sucked. He wasn’t meant to be happy. He wasn’t allowed to be happy. Ironically, this happens to a lot of people with a positive sense of life. People who believe the universe is just but are unhappy themselves and blame themselves for some uncontrollable inadequacy. (Notice how this idea is similar to the faith idea, hmm.)

It took him five seasons, but Sawyer finally believed he was a good person and deserved happiness, and he did it the right way. He did it through thinking. He did it through understanding the universe. His character has always been very smart and understood that to exist in the world you must understand it. He took that belief to its logical conclusions in S5, lecturing Jack on its merits, living his life by it, and ultimately finding happiness.

The only problem is, the rug was pulled out from under his feet. His world was destroyed. He lost the love of his life (so far). He lost his job as sheriff. He lost the only home he ever had. Consequentially, he is now questioning his most fundamental premise: The nature of the universe. He said it in "What Kate Does." He’s going to let Jack suffer like he is. He believes the world is suffering. He doesn’t hate himself anymore, he hates the world.

Except, he doesn’t hate the world as much as he would like. He can’t. He’s Sawyer. He would like to evade. He was trying to in this episode, playing up the redneck stereotype, drunk off his ass, destroyed house, listening to angry music--but he can’t. When the opportunity presented itself to learn, to find out about how the world works, he had to try. If someone tells you that they have the secret to the universe, how can you not listen to their argument? You don’t have to agree with them, but how can you not hear them out?

It is important to contrast the way Sawyer acted in this episode with the way Richard Alpert acted, a deft little bit of writing (why am I praising Sarnoff so much?). For the first time, Richard looked weak. Like a child, he ran away, frightened. Confronted with his lack of knowledge as MiB told him there were things Jacob didn’t tell him, rather than ask, rather than try to learn, he ran into the jungle, ran into the Temple. Essentially, he evaded (hmm, faith = evasion, Temple = place of faith, interesting). By contrast, when Richard tried to get Sawyer to evade with him, Sawyer would have none of it. Rather than seek out safe shelter, Sawyer dared to risk his life, in so many ways, for the answers.

Did he get answers? We don’t know, but he got a whole boatload of information, and he did it by listening to Rose’s advice. He stopped denying what happened and got back to living whatever life he had left. Right now, one character, ONE, is trying to figure out the answers on LOST, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

(Also, it’s extremely interesting how Locke and Sawyer’s plots are always intertwined. This episode really made me think of The Brig and how it should have been a Sawyer flashback. This episode could have easily been a Sawyer flashsideways as well.)

LOSTOLOGY

One of the most puzzling lines from "The Incident," was when Illana and Bram (RIP) discussed the possibility of Frank being a candidate. We had no idea for what. Now we have somewhat of an idea. Of course, we don’t know if MiB is telling the truth or not, but for the sake of understanding and enjoyment, let’s take his claims at face value for a moment.

The island exists (OK, we accept that premise. If you don’t, stop reading my stuff.) and needs to be protected (a much more tenuous claim). The way the island is protected is that one person is appointed to that job. We can extrapolate some other cognates from there. This selection process seems to be some sort of a contest, where a bunch of candidates are brought to the island and the last one standing (living?) is named as the protector. There also seems to be an opposite force on the island.

Except, wait, didn’t Rousseau call the smoke monster the island’s security system? Doesn’t a security system protect something? Could it be that both Jacob and MiB are assigned the task of protecting the island? Maybe that’s why they can’t kill each other. Their role is shared.

Tangent aside, we’re not exactly sure what makes someone a candidate. Locke, Hurley, Sayid, Jack, Sawyer, either Jin or Sun (or Ji Yeon). Interestingly, Jacob touched all these people, literally, at some point in their lives. Is that what makes them candidates, or did Jacob touch them because they’re candidates? And what about Kate? Jacob touched her, and she’s an important character in the series. How can she not be a candidate? What role does she play in the series then? (Hold onto that thought for a few paragraphs.)

Jacob’s touching brings into question the morality of Jacob and MiB. So far, we have been led to believe that Jacob is good. He is free will and humanity. In contrast, MiB is bad. He is determinism and anti-humanity, death. But, what if like with the Jack and Sawyer dynamic, the opposite of our initial impressions is actually true? Hear me out (and notice what I did there).

Besides Seth Norris and Mr. Eko, the only people MiB has killed is those people that have threatened him. I’m not attempting to avoid or ignore the Norris and Eko situations, but an entire column could be written on that issue, and I’ve yet to figure it out. If you’d like to share with me, I’d love to hear your thoughts. However, my point is, besides the two anomalies, the large body of evidence is that MiB does not kill senselessly or arbitrarily. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. He seems to kill only out of self-protection. (Perhaps Eko was killed because his faith in the island, Jacob, was dangerous?)

In this same vein, MiB made the claim that Jacob is the evil one for all of his supposed manipulation of, well, everyone. Here is where the inversion of Jacob’s supposed representation of free will begins. In "The Incident," Jacob seemed to emphasize choice, especially when Ben killed him. However, now we realize that he did touch everyone and that touch seemed to control the path they were on. It is a reasonable idea that the flashsideways are the way the characters’ lives would have turned out had Jacob not touched them.

So here we have a more refined question as to the morality of LOST; we see two sides, but we don’t know which is light and dark. However, LOST is doing what it always does well, portraying both sides for what they actually are, and what they appear to be. If Jacob really does symbolize faith and the evasion it carries with it, it is extremely interesting how the writers have been able to make him appear good even though he is bad. Their talent cannot be understated.

If you notice, the Jacob and MiB relationship is starting to resemble another LOST relationship that I have already mentioned in this column, Jack and Sawyer. I won’t go into the details, but I will say this: In the past, I have argued that Kate is supposed to be symbolic of the viewer; who do you choose, Jack or Sawyer? The triangle has dragged on because the question still remains. Now I wonder if the triangle will ever end. Maybe it has dragged on because it’s the point of the series. Maybe the series will end with Sawyer telling Jack, “You have no idea how badly I want to kill you right now.”

FREDDY ADIEU

Epic Quote of the week: “This is the weirdest funeral I’ve ever been to,” Frank. You have to enjoy his style of humor by filling the “normal guy” role on the show.

I’m quite satisfied with a lot of the ideas I’ve written here. You don’t have to agree with them, but they are important to consider when trying to understand not only LOST but life. I only ask that you do one thing:

Think about it.