Dr. Horrible Act One Review: A Real Audible Connection

The first third of this super-villain origin story works to establish the three most important elements of the entire tale:

-The relationship between “Billy” and “Dr. Horrible”
-The motivations that come from the former to create the latter
-Who Captain Hammer is and why he kinda sucks (but is kinda awesome too)

The show opens with Dr. Horrible recording his video blog. Considering his name is also in the title (and not Billy’s) we need to remember that this narrative is about him and not his (not so) “secret identity.” Although, one of the key points we’ll pick up on early on is that there probably is no difference between the two of them besides self conception.

Dr. Horrible does what any good video blogger does and immediately suffers from the Bill O’Reilly syndrome. In other words, he is more concerned with promoting himself than saying anything relevant. He immediately is distracted by a discussion of the importance of having “standards” regarding “the laugh” when being evil. No, his first thought isn’t what it means to be evil; it’s what it sounds like to be evil. He’s even working with a vocal coach on it. Of course, that doesn’t stop him from applying to the Evil League of Evil. Is it any wonder he hasn’t received a response from them yet? He has no content, literally quantified in only having a letter of condemnation from the Deputy Mayor.

Still, Horrible pushes on, reading emails from his adoring fans, and we see just how inept he is at this whole evil thing. Those bars of gold he stole from the bank? They’re nothing more than liquid that smells like human. He receives an email from “Johnny Snow” who claims to be his nemesis and replies, “Look, I'm just trying to change the world, ok? I don't have time for a grudge match with every poser in a parka.” The thing is that he himself is nothing more than a “poser in a parka.” He’s sitting in his basement talking to a computer pretending to be evil when he can’t even rob a bank properly, let alone get into the ELE. Here’s where one of the most subtle themes of the story come into play.

As we’ll see most strongly in the last act, the Whedons take media and media technology to task in this short, connecting it with image that lacks any substance. And their critique is right on the mark. Consider Horrible and Billy in Act One. He is seen making a video blog, responding to emails, and messing around on his iPhone. All of these actions prevent him from actualizing himself (by actualizing his desires). Instead, he focuses on the image they necessarily need to operate. Think of any YouTube blogger you’ve seen. Think of any Facebook (or MySpace) profile you’ve read. If you really know the people behind these e-creations (instead of recreations, get it), you know they’re almost nothing like them in reality. The internet and its related communication devices are a burgeoning technology that has become focused on image and not content, which is exactly what made the release of “Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog” so revolutionary. The Whedons used the internet and its devices to release one of the best stories in recent years, due to its depth and quality, during a time when no one else was releasing anything.

Of course, the allure of image and not content attracts people exactly like the main character of this tale, Billy, especially many teenagers and young adults. Billy is certainly meant to represent this demographic, especially a certain male archetype. Why is this age group attracted to image over content? Because not only does the internet and its devices empower those voices that have previously had no outlet (alerting us to the already existing demographic of people who believe they have no image), but it empowers the current youth who have been told their whole life that they aren’t good enough and identity is a lie (because identity is based on self, and there is no self only the collective). Teen and young adult years are already spent struggling to understand the world, adding the stress of a liberal social agenda (as we’ll see Dr. Horrible adopt in a moment) only creates Emo.

Through Dr. Horrible’s responses to his “fan” emails, we begin to see the true ideology behind his quest to become evil (but not his motivations). Though he says he wants to rule the world, he makes much more important philosophical claims.

First he states that what he’s doing isn’t “…about making money. It's about taking money, destroying the status quo because the status is not quo. The world is a mess and I just need to rule it.” Here might be a good place for you to read Francisco D’Anconia’s money speech from “Atlas Shrugged.” Dr. Horrible doesn’t want to make money, put his own work and values into it, he wants to take it, and steal someone else’s work and values. Why? Because those who make money aren’t good people. Their “status” is not “quo.” Why aren’t they good people? We’ll get to that reason in a second. Beforehand, we need to turn to his next claim, his identification of his nemesis, “Ok, dude, you're not my nemesis. My nemesis is Captain Hammer, Captain Hammer Corporate Tool.” It should come as no surprise to us that someone who wants to take money rather than make money vilifies the people who make money, the corporations. It’s why he thinks the world is a mess, he needs to rule it, and wants to change it. He doesn’t like what it takes to make money, and there’s one simple reason for that distaste in his mouth.

Billy believes he is inadequate. No, not Dr. Horrible, he is the image created by Billy through the use of the internet and its devices in response to the corrupt world that he sees (because his inadequacy is everyone else’s fault for having the “wrong” standards, not his for lacking content). Just as the current youth turns to the internet to have an image (because they don’t understand that image is a result of values, not vice versa), so does Billy, and his believed inadequacy is what’s driving this whole evil thing. We’ve laughed at him over the first 3 and half minutes, but as the first song starts we finally understand the profound sadness behind Billy that has lead to the creation of Dr. Horrible (because his believed inadequacy is his value that led to his image of evil).

“My Freeze Ray” isn’t a tune about a super-villain praising his newest demonic device; it’s a song about an insecure guy bemoaning his inability to speak to his crush, which he believes he can fix by creating the Freeze Ray. He wants to tell her that he loves her hair, but only ends up mumbling (and saying he loves “the air” at the end of the song). He really likes her and thinks he’s the guy “to make it real/the feelings you don’t dare to feel,” but she makes him feel “like a fool/kinda sick/special needs.” This description of his feelings once again demonstrates his insecurities. We all feel vulnerable when we like someone. That feeling doesn’t make you stupid or sick, but he believes he doesn’t deserve to feel it, so he thinks it does. Thus, his supposed good feelings cause him pain. And in the most important line of the song he says, “With my Freeze Ray I will stop the pain.” He doesn’t want to be evil to actually change the world or rule it. He wants to be evil to stop his own pain. What he fails to realize is that to stop his own pain all he has to do is believe in himself. It’s extremely important to note that during the entire song the video constantly cuts between Billy yearning after Penny weakly in the Laundromat and Dr. Horrible singing to his webcam powerfully.

The webcam is turned off, and we get an inside look at Dr. Horrible’s life. He lives with his soon-to-be henchman Moist, a soft spoken guy who is literally so nervous that his super-power is that he sweats a ridiculous amount. It becomes clear that these guys are friends because they lack the same thing: self confidence and self assuredness. Moist, in a cleverly written gag, went on a date with Bait and Switch, and ended up with Switch even though he kinda thought he was supposed to end up with Bait. The Doc then shares his girl story, saying he saw Penny today, and that he is “just a few weeks away from a real audible connection.”

For two guys who are supposed to be so concerned with being evil, they’re both sure to bring up the girls in their lives first, even though Horrible is holding a stack of mail which we soon learn contains a letter from Bad Horse. If getting into the ELE was so important, you’d think Horrible would rip through the mail and his buddy Moist would encourage him. These guys aren’t evil. They’re the typical guys who have fallen into a friendship because they’ve bonded over their inability to connect with the opposite sex. They’re kind of like the comic book version of Seth and Evan from Superbad.

Eventually, Dr. Horrible finds the letter (while thumbing through the mail while mumbling something about Penny) and opens it. The Bad Horse Chorus tells him to commit some kind of caper. Moist is less enthusiastic, pointing out it’s only “not a no,” while the Doc thinks it’s great because he was going to steal Wonderflonium for his Freeze Ray today anyway. We realize something more apparently now. Horrible is looking for worth from outside sources rather than himself. A simple “not no” from Bad Horse sends him into a frenzied excitement because “the league is watching.”

This need for outside approval returns to the image vs. content theme. Image necessarily comes from other people. It’s how they see us. It’s impossible for another person to be inside your head, no matter how well they know you. You are the only person who can truly know your content. That fact is why people who seek outside means of esteem are obsessed with image. It doesn’t matter what their content is (their self esteem), it matters what their image is (how other people see them). At this point we can understand how the two sides of the main character in this narrative represent image (Dr. Horrible) and content (Billy). Billy creates Dr. Horrible because he dislikes himself so much he can’t even create a “real audible connection” with Penny.

The song ends, and we get our first (well, second) glimpse of the hero (hero, not protagonist) of this e-novella, Penny. Dressed very respectably, she is attempting to get signatures to open a new Caring Hands Homeless Shelter in a building the city is going to demolish. She’s happy, energetic, and enthusiastic. In fact, throughout all three acts, she is this way (except, understandably, near the end of the third). Consider how we first met her in “My Freeze Ray.” Even when Billy ridiculously proclaims that he loves the air, she smiles sweetly. She’s always enjoying herself and volunteering to help the homeless. I don’t agree with the altruism is good ethic, but this piece of fiction seems to adopt it (as we’ll see in Act Three with Captain Hammer’s big moment).

After singing, Penny approaches Billy while he fiddles on his iPhone and monitors the van he is trying to hijack, and he finally gets that “real audible connection. Truthfully, the connection is more than audible. He bumbles through the conversation, blinking constantly and saying awkward things. He even scoffs at her attempts at help the homeless ranting that “…they're a symptom. You're treating a symptom, and the disease rages on, consumes the human race. The fish rots from the head as they say. So my thinking is why not cut off the head?” She’s taken aback and questions, “Of the human race?” He retorts quickly, “It's not a perfect metaphor, but I'm talking about an overhaul of the system, putting the power in different hands.” Here is the kicker. She replies sweetly, “I'm all for that” showing enthusiastic interest in what he said, even though she was put off by it and a bit confused (as it was a muddled metaphor). In other words, she is looking for some sort of connection with Billy. Why? Because she is attracted to him. We all play this sort of game, searching for some common bond with someone we’d like to have one with. After he awkwardly says something about not turning his back on a “fellow laundry person,” she says in a very flirty manner, “Well, if we can’t stick together.” The only problem is Billy doesn’t realize what’s going on.

As the van peels away he ignores her and she peels away from the conversation disappointed. Billy walks away bemoaning, “She talked to me. Why did she talk to me now? Maybe I should...” We’re not exactly sure what the second half the sentence is, but as he launches into the first line of the last song of the act, we get the impression that he is considering going back after her. He sings, “a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do,” a platitude that often means going against your own desires to fulfill an obligation or responsibility. The irony here is that Billy’s obligation is to being evil and the whole reason he wants to be evil is to prove himself to Penny, which he has already started to do without the evil and is now preventing himself from doing because of the evil.

Billy changes into his Dr. Horrible garb as he belts out the first verse of “A Man’s Gotta Do.” The key lines seem to be “don’t plan the plan if you can’t follow through” and “all that matters: taking matters into your own hands.” Both demonstrate the irony of Dr. Horrible, he’s making a plan and taking things into his own hands, but it’s the wrong plan, and the former line seems to signal that on some level Billy is aware of his mistake. You usually say such a thing only when you are convincing yourself to go through with something. The former line also contrasts Dr. Horrible in an important way from the other man in Penny’s life, Captain Hammer, who we are about to meet. Dr. Horrible is thoughtful and calculated. Hammer is not.

The second verse starts, and Captain Hammers flies onto screen. He sings, “nothing here to see/just imminent danger, in the middle of it, me” and “the day needs my saving expertise.” He is full of the confidence Billy is lacking. He punctuates the first verse by punching the remote control device, sending the van careening out of control. He then sings the second verse with the same bravado, punctuating this one by pushing Penny into the garbage to save her from the oncoming van (which is stopped by Dr. Horrible anyway). Hammer is clearly impulsive and focused on action. Everything he does is immediate and bold. Horrible is not.

It’s no surprise Billy would create an opposite image to counteract Hammer, he is a powerful image and in many ways the exact opposite of Billy. Dr. Horrible even confronts Hammers, exclaiming that he almost killed Penny (which is true, he is the one who sent the van out of control), but only gets a hand to the throat. Hammer, in his limited and self centered perspective, states that, “He remembers it differently.” He is the hero after all. It’s also no surprise that Penny is immediately grateful to Hammer. She was about to die and he (apparently) saved her live. She stands up from the garbage and, in shock as the liner notes tell us, thanks Hammer for saving her. The act is at its very end and the theme of the overarching narrative is apparent.

Dr. Horrible represents “the nice guy,” Captain Hammer represents “the asshole,” and Penny is the girl who is caught in between the two. The third verse is shared by all three characters as they delivering overlapping lyrics that demonstrate their place in the dynamic and it effect on each of them. Hammer is predictably braggadocious, “When you’re the best, you can’t rest, what’s the use/There’s ass needs kicking, some ticking bomb to defuse/The only doom that’s looming is you loving me to death.” Penny is understandably confused (she was almost hit by a van and then pushed in the garbage) and falls back on her positive outlook on life, “You came from above/I wonder what you’re the Captain of/My heart is beating like a drum/Must be shock/Assuming I’m not loving you to death.” Horrible is embittered and angry, “Stop looking at her like that/Did you notice that he threw you in the garbage?/I stopped the van, the remote control was in my hand.” As Hammer and Penny stare into each other eyes, the act is punctuated with Horrible slinking/sulking away from the van while proclaiming “Balls.”

The way we leave each of these characters is important, as it leads us into Act Two. We’ve just met Hammer and only know of his ego and bravado. Penny is understandably confused and smitten. Hammer does have all the makings of a hero after all, but there is her laundry buddy. Horrible has begun a downward arc. Notably, he is focused on Hammer and comparing himself to the hero. He wants the credit for what Hammer is taking credit. He commands Hammer to stop looking at Penny “like that.” Why is he concerned with what the guy is doing? Shouldn’t he be concerned with what’s going on with Penny? She nearly died and is obviously confused. Why doesn’t Billy try to console her? Because he’s Dr. Horrible, and Dr. Horrible is Billy focusing on pain. In his mind, that pain comes from what he’s not, and what he’s not is what Hammer is. It’s not about Billy and Penny anymore (it’s about Horrible and Hammer), so much for their real audible connection.

Dr. Horrible Review: A Penny saved...

As most people know, during the writer's strike of 2008 Joss Whedon and family wrote a 42 minute short (is that an oxymoron?) and produced it all on their own (isn't that special?). "Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog" stars Neil Patrick, Nathan Fillion, and Felicia Day. I've really enjoyed it from the first time I saw, but never really been able to figure out what it was about...until now. If you haven't seen it yet, go to Hulu and watch it before reading the rest of this post.

On it's face, "Dr. Horrible" is about the inversion of hero and villian as the protagonist and antagonist. Dr. Horrible/Billy, the villian, is the protagonist. Captain Hammer, the hero, is the antagonist. However, I don't believe this immediate interpretation is correct. In my estimation, neither Horrible or Hammer (two Hs, coincidence?) are the Hero (one H, coincidence?) of this web show.

The true hero is Felicia Day as Penny in an understated and apparently backgrounded (intentionally) performance. Her death is what makes the story a tragedy (Hey, I told you to watch it before you read on.). Over the next week I will be posting an analysis of each act that proves this assertion and reveals the important commentary the Whedons are making on male archetypes, especially that of Dr. Horrible/Billy.

Join me next time for my analysis of Act One: "A Real Audible Connection."

The Midside: S5E11 Whatever Happened, Happened

Ladies and Gentleman, we are back in action. No, I don’t mean me personally. I mean all of us in the IL, Institute of LOSTology. We have things to talk about again. There’s character development. There’s philosophical quandaries that are actually difficult to decipher. There’s throw away lines that aren’t actually throw away lines. You see, this last episode may not have seemed that important to you, sort of like filler between the last big episode and the next big episode, but it was. Damon Lindelof and Carlton Cuse wrote it. How could it not be important? The reason it didn’t appear as so is because what made LOST good in the beginning has returned to it: its subtlety.

This episode can be understood and discussed through the development of three of the most important characters on the show: Kate (of course, it was her episode), Jack, and Ben. Yes, Ben was only in this episode as a child. Yes, Jack only had a few scenes in this episode. This apparent lack of importance is exactly where the subtlety of the writing comes into play. Sometimes, it’s the smallest events that have the biggest effect on us. You also might be asking why I didn’t include Sawyer on this list of characters. He did some interesting things in this episode, and this is The Midside after all, right. Yeah, well, Juliet did some interesting things too (and so did Cassidy), but the discussion of those choices can easily be addressed within our considerations of the other characters.

Finally, in the closing section, I’ll address an idea a passerby on the street put forward as I was writing this column. Ok, she wasn’t a random passerby. A couple of my friends were walking by and she was with them. Regardless, she seems to think the determinism inherent in a time travel story devalues the storytelling. She may have a point, but she also might not. Stayed tuned in to see which is correct.

RUN, KATE, RUN

Here’s my problem with Kate. The more she does, the less I like her. In the early seasons, there were grumblings from some members of the fan base about how pathetic of a character Kate was. Some of my friends explicated her weaknesses as well. Hell, it got to the point that even I was recognizing the mistakes she made. Every time Jack told her to stay behind, she would run ahead and make some mistake that got everyone else in trouble. I even made a short horror-comedy called “End It Like Beckham” that spoofed that attribute by “Kate” be the one who accidentally let the killer into the apartment. (Yes, that was a cheap plug for my movie. You can find it on YouTube.) However, I always managed to pawn those mistakes off on Jack. He, after all, was the one who insulted her personhood by telling her that she didn’t come. Hey, Jack sucks, we can blame him for everything and anything, right?

No, he can’t (as we learned elsewhere in the episode, or did we?). Kate’s shortcomings were all over this episode, and it mainly comes down to this: she has no sense of self worth anymore. In a way, the constructions of our perceptions of her character are very similar to John Locke. During the first season, she seemed cool and confident, able to kick ass and take names all because she believed she could. She stood toe to toe with Sawyer and didn’t give much of thought to Jack. If you remember, in Season One, Locke also seemed badass, like the wise old dude who had never been given a chance. In Season Two, he seemed weaker, owned by his con man of a father and subsequently putting way-too-much faith in the island.

In Season Two, Kate’s character began to unravel as well, although at a much slower rate than Locke’s. In “What Kate Did” we learned about her real father and the issues she had with seeing him in Sawyer. The only problem is that we didn’t fully realize how deep those daddy issues went until this episode. Looking back over the previous material, we can now see how her lack of self worth through out. In Season Three, she left Nathan Fillion at the alter (really, what woman would do that?) and desperately seeks approval from her mother. In Season Four, she continually returned to a debilitating relationship with Jack. The beginning of this season featured much of the same, as she ended up crying in Jack’s bed. In this episode we found out why.

To put it bluntly (why would we waste our time doing it any other way?), Kate used Aaron to give herself self worth. On one level, anyone who uses external sources to find self worth will not ever find that self worth. On a deeper level, she used a child as a tool for her own means. While it is true that she took care of him and gave him a good life, she denied his personhood and took advantage of his innocence when she essentially kidnapped him.

This betrayal of innocence is especially ironic considering the argument she, Sawyer, and Juliet used to save Harry Potter, the “He’s Just a Kid” argument. However, considering why Kate used Aaron, we have to ask ourselves if she was saving Harry Potter for the same reason. Was she still living out her motherhood fantasy or was she actually doing it to save an innocent? Of course, that same question could be asked about her relationship with Aaron. Maybe she was just trying to protect any innocent.

Kate wasn’t lying when she said that Claire disappeared. Leaving him on the island didn’t seem the best choice for him. Sure, she could have decided to give her to Claire’s mother right when they got back, but at that point The Lie and their lives weren’t unraveling, so there was no need. Plus, none of this speculation explains why she gave Aaron to Claire’s mother when she did. She didn’t have to go back to the island. She could have stayed and raised Aaron for as long as she wanted. So why did she decide to go back?

The answer to this question is buried in her conversations with Cassidy, who is the woman Kate fears she is going to become with Sawyer. The mother of Sawyer’s daughter is still bitter about what happened between her and him. Look, I’m not defending Sawyer for what happened back then. He clearly conned women by giving them only half of a relationship, the physical half. Still, that wrong he did to Cassidy does not excuse her for holding onto it for so long and demonizing him for jumping out of the helicopter. Did he jump out of the helicopter for selfish reasons? Of course he did. He lives for himself. (Which, by the way, I’m glad the writers clarified that he didn’t jump out simply to help others with complete disregard to himself.) If he didn’t jump, who would? And, like he said in this episode, he wouldn’t have been a good boyfriend or father back then. His jumping let them leave the island, but, more importantly, let him stay on the island. What’s disturbing is how angry Cassidy was about his choice. She wanted him to live his life for her and was using Clementine was a tool for that end. In “Every Man For Himself” Sawyer set up a bank account for his daughter. In this episode we saw Kate go see his daughter for him, as he requested. He wasn’t disregarding her. He was trying to take care of her. His issues just made him maintain an emotional distance, and those issues aren’t a good reason for Cassidy not to get over her issues.

Even worse, Cassidy applied her issues to Kate, telling Kate that they both used the kids in the same way. Was Cassidy a reliable narrator? Did Kate use Aaron to get over Sawyer? No, I don’t think Kate was “getting over” Sawyer. She never sought the commitment or close personal connection that “getting over” requires and leaving the island was the perfect opportunity to run as she always does. However, I do think she was using Aaron like many women with low self worth do: as a source of the unconditional love they believe the world owes them. What she soon realized was, be it correctly or incorrectly, that she couldn’t raise Aaron.

In the end, I think she was right. I don’t think she is incapable of raising Aaron, but the whole island thing and her unresolved issues put her in a place, quite literally now, that she couldn’t. Claire even told her not to bring Aaron back to the island. And Kate’s valuing of children and ability to protect them was clearly evident by her bringing Harry Potter to the Hostiles. And since Sawyer came along we see they have that in common (although we already knew why and how Sawyer valued children).

“I’M MR FIX IT. IT (DOESN’T) FEEL GOOD.”

Point to the sky and say thanks because Jack may have finally reached a turning point. While my opinion of Kate plummeted to an all time low (no, not the band), my opinion of Jack sky rocketed to an all time high. Things are topsy-turvy in the LOSTiverse, and I left this episode with a general feeling of confusion for because of it. Jack did something I liked and agreed with. (Yes, hell just froze over, pigs flew, and the American public saw Barack Obama for the fraud he is.)

No, I’m not referring to his decision not to help Harry Potter. I understand his reasoning. However, as someone pointed out to me, this decision was still a screw up. If he had saved Harry Potter, he wouldn’t have been brought to the Hostiles, and his innocence never would have been, well, lost. Yes, the decision blew up in his face again. Even more to the point, he could have ripped out Harry Potter’s heart, killing him once and for all. (We’ll get into more of the details of this moral decision in the next section). The smart response to this point though is that “whatever happened, happened,” if Jack tried to save Harry Potter he would have failed, and the kid would have been brought to the Hostiles anyway as time “course corrects.” (Or, if you don’t agree with compatibalism, he was always going to make the choice not to save him.)

What I am referring to is his decision to stand up for himself. When Sawyer asked him to come and fix Harry Potter he stopped for a second, thought, and said no. Then, in that moment, he faced the fears he had been dodging his whole life: the immediate negative reactions people give you when you don’t do what they want. These responses were, of course, stronger in this instance because Jack has always tried to fix things, so his behavior was outside the norm. Still, he dealt with it admirably (even if I don’t necessarily agree with his decision) and stood by his choice. He then had to face the next step in the process: the scrutiny of those closest to you.

Kate attacked Jack for his decision, and he explicated his error in reasoning when cutting the tumor out of Ben’s back, “I did it for you, Kate.” Later in the conversation, she complained that she didn’t like the new him, to which he replied that she didn’t like the old him either. I’m glad he finally stood up for himself and called Kate on her use of him. I’m glad he finally questioned the premise that he had to fix everything. The problem is that, while he is trying to think for himself, he is making the same error in judgment that Locke is by exalting the island as his missing father figure. How crazy do you think it’s going to be when he meets Christian again? He’ll have to face his issues one more time.

The next person to attack Jack was his other woman, the other woman, Juliet. We had the reverse of the Jack and Kate shower scene from the Hatch, where this time Jack is the one being gawked at and yearned for by a crazy (although, did anyone else notice that he barely dried off before putting his shirt on?). Juliet claimed, “I needed you” as if her need put some sort of moral responsibility on Jack. He thankfully ignored it and stated his reasoning. She then went into attack mode, demonstrating why she sucks, stating that Kate and Sawyer were off somewhere together. He tried to play the old altruistic Jack, but she quickly denied it, making him admit he did it for himself, and crying in the process. It’s incredibly messed up that she is mad at Jack for doing what he wants. Clearly the problem isn’t Jack, but that she still has feelings for him. Of course, Jack once again stated, “I came back because I was supposed to” perhaps finally completing his transition to a Man of Faith. (Meanwhile, Juliet stormed out of the room indignant, not realizing the irony that the man she is with makes decisions for himself more than Jack does.)

KILL THE KID, SAVE THE WORLD?

Though Harry Potter was little more than a prop in this episode, literally (both the word “little” and the word “prop”) he had a huge affect on the philosophical undertones of the episode, the philosophical undertones that returned LOST to its former, um, form. Remember when the situations the characters were in and the choices they made were applicable to important thoughts? Yeah, they’re back, and it’s all thanks to Sayid believing he’s a killer (or does he?). This episode focused on what we could call the “Hitler Dilemma.” If you could kill Hitler as a child would you?

The two main points of view in this episode were expressed by, not surprisingly, Jack and Sawyer. Jack, as we already stated, refused to help, arguing that it’s fine to let Harry Potter die because of who he would become. Sawyer said they were obligated to help because he was a child, advocating the position that children are always sacred. Kate, in a throwback to her first episode “Tabula Rasa” was once again caught in the middle. And once again she chose Sawyer’s side, just as she did when she gave him the gun to kill the Marshall. Let’s pick apart these two sides some more.

The “children are innocent” side holds a lot of intuitive weight. We have to consider the idea of tabula rasa that was first introduced early in the series (as noted above). We are all born innocent, a blank slate. (No, I won’t go into a discussion of original sin here.) How can a child be held responsible for acts he hasn’t committed yet? Is the future person even really him? How can we know? As Hurley and Miles discussed, even if determinism is true, can we know it’s true? This idea is a strong compatibilist argument. They say that even if determinism is true, we can’t know it is true, so we must still consider morality as important. Thus, saving Harry Potter would be the right call.

The other argument for saving the child is based on the butterfly effect. Even if we let him die, how do we know a worse evil won’t arise? We can’t guarantee that the choice of death will create a better outcome than the world already, so why make the choice at all? This argument falls apart when you consider that we can’t guarantee any choice we make will improve our lives. If not knowing that our lives will be improved by a choice is a reason to not make it, then we wouldn’t make any choices at all.

The “let him die” side, however, also carries a lot of intuitive weight. This kid will turn into evil. How can his death not be a good thing? Sure, we don’t know what will happen if he dies, but we never know what’s going to happen with any choice. Let him die. All we can make are the choices that face today. We can sort out the rest in the future.

The important thing to note about this discussion is that whichever side you pick instantly changes your perception of Sayid. If you agree with the “children are innocent” side, then you think he is immoral for shooting Harry Potter. If you agree with the “let him die” side, then you probably think Sayid did a good thing. Although, I want to unpack Sayid’s intentions a bit. We’ve seen him kill numerous people in the past. When he did, he shot them multiple times and made sure they were dead. This time he fired one shot and ran away quickly. I think the shot more represented his inner struggle than an intention to actually kill Harry Potter. If he wanted the kid dead, he’d be dead.

Which do I agree with? I say save the kid because I refuse to believe determinism is true because if it’s true in the past, it’s true in the future, because all labels of time periods are relative to the time traveler.

FREDDY ADIEU

If you nerdgasmed over Miles and Hurley’s discussion of time travel theory, then you’re going to enjoy the next few paragraphs. We have to ask ourselves the question: does determinism devalue a story when the characters travel to the past?

One side says yes. Their actions can have no affect on the world. We already know what’s going to happen. Everything is just a waste of time.

The other side says no. The characters will still develop and change, and we will witness that change. Besides, we already know the end of the story, but we don’t know the middle. Why should we privilege the end over the middle?

The reason we’re facing this problem in LOST is that it seems the show will end in the past. If it ends in the future, there will be no issue, as we won’t know the outcome to their actions, so we can believe they have an effect on it even if determinism is true.

And if you disagree with that, well then:

Shut up, you’re wrong.