Even as Lost's battered Volkswagen bus hurtles down the grassy hill of its final season and towards the precipice of primetime oblivion, its corpulent, floppy-haired driver white-knuckling his way through the ride as corpses pile up in the back, the show still seems determined to raise as many questions as it resolves. Please hit the jump and join us as we tackle 23 new queries arising from last night's episode, "The Substitute." [As always, MORE SPOILERS than you can shake a sandy corpse at. DVR-impaired Losties, beware.]
If the wheelchair ramp on Locke's minivan malfunctions, it shouldn't be too hard for him to just jump the chair, Evel Knievel-style, onto his lawn, right?
Don't do it! It seemed like a short jump, but Locke might as well have been jumping the Grand Canyon in a shopping cart with a bum wheel.
Fair enough, but if he's going to try anyway because he's too proud to ask for help, how many absurd indignities can Locke suffer in a single scene?
After his lift jammed, forcing him to attempt an ill-advised jump from its ramp onto his lawn, Locke spilled forward from his wheelchair, flailed through a pile of banana peels, rolled over a dozen rakes, and then, just as he parted his lips to issue the world-weary sigh of the beaten man, his mouth was filled with the hateful payload of curiously timed lawn-sprinklers. But at the precise moment he reached for his collapsed chair, ready to put these harrowing trials behind him, a school bus full of his soon-to-be-revealed students sped by, spraying filthy gutter-water in his face and filling his ears with the cruel taunts of spoiled children. As he took his seat back in the chair, he wondered why those kids on the bus were all carrying noisy New Year's party-favors to shake at him as he lay helplessly in the grass, but after a fruitless moment of contemplation, he just shrugged and headed for the front door. Because sometimes there aren't any satisfying answers.
What are the odds of a paralyzed man who's always struggled to accept his disability running into a miracle-working spinal surgeon who claims nothing is irreversible?
Hey, Helen, chill out. Crazy things happen at the baggage claim! For example, the airline lost that spinal surgeon's dead father's body. So let's not overthink the serendipity of meeting this guy, OK?
How cool was the SmokeMonsterCam?
Pretty damn cool. Though it would've been cooler if Smokey had just wrapped itself around Richard's trapped body like a giant fist and yanked it out of the tree, rather than picking up a machete, resuming Locke-form, then simply cutting him down. Don't be afraid to show off a little, Smokester!
Why didn't Locke at least register for the conference on his boondoggle trip to Australia so he might have even the flimsiest of cover stories when his boss started wondering how the "business trip" went?
He's obviously not all that excited about working at the box company anymore. The cardboard game's a lot tougher than it looks.
Would SmokeLocke like to apologize to Richard Alpert for roughing him up a little in the season premiere?
Yes, he would. He's sorry for hitting him in the throat and dragging him across the beach. He's got a bit of a temper sometimes.
So why does SmokeyManInBlack look like Locke now?
Because Locke was a candidate. Rather, was a candidate.
Is that like being claimed?
Ugh, stop! "Claimed" was last week's mysterious jargon. This week we're all about candidates. Try and keep up.
If Ben Linus told you where all these dead bodies inside the Statue Annex came from, is there a reasonable chance you wouldn't believe him?
We'd say "a fairly reasonable chance."
Can't he tell us anyway?
Fine. So the guy who looks like Locke, but isn't Locke, turned into a pillar of black smoke and killed them before Ben's eyes. Happy now, Ilana?
Where did Sawyer get an Iggy and The Stooges record on the island?
There's a pretty sweet Sam Goody in The Shoppes at the Otherville Barracks, right between the Zales Outlet and the Supercuts. Great vinyl selection.
What, if anything, does Sawyer care about?
He doesn't give a damn if SmokeLocke's dead, or time-traveling, or the Ghost of Christmas Past. All he cares about is this whiskey. (OK, he's a little drunk, but cut him some slack. He's grieving!)
But what if SmokeLocke told him he was the person who could answer the most important question in the world? Would Sawyer care about that?
Yeah, he'd care, but only if the question is "Why are you on this island?" and not anything about this dude who looks like Locke being a Dickensian spectre. He's already said he ain't interested in that.
Do you mind if we cut to 2004, where Hurley, just revealed as the owner of the box company, gives a freshly sh*tcanned Locke a little pep talk where he assures him everything's going to work out?
No, but only if we can then hilariously cut back to Locke's dead body, which nobody's got around to burying yet, but which is getting "pretty ripe."
Does anyone want to say anything before we toss this stinky corpse into a shallow sand-hole?
Ben would! "John Locke was a believer. He was a man of faith. He was a much better man than i will ever be. And I'm very sorry I murdered him. Because I think I kind of have a weird man-crush on him, which is really, really wrong since I was the guy who killed him! Uch, this is getting really awkward for everybody. Toss some sand on him and let him have a final moment of dignity before I dive in the hole, smooch his bald head, and beg him to forgive me for being such a creepy, homicidal jerk."
Hey, did Sawyer see that weird little kid who sort of looks like what a reincarnated Jacob might look like, and who just told SmokeLocke he can't kill Sawyer because of "the rules"?
YES! Whoops, NO! Nope, Sawyer didn't see nothin'. Especially not any kind of Baby Jacob deal. He don't even know what a "jacob" is, if we're being totally honest right now.
But who was Sawyer talking to while SmokeLocke was chasing the kid he didn't see? It wasn't that Richard guy, was it?
Nope, he definitely wasn't talking to Richard, and even if he did -- and he didn't! -- that theoretical freaked-out guy in eyeliner definitely wasn't telling him the Locke-looking person he's with is not actually Locke and wants to kill everybody, which would be crazy-talk. Everyone cool? Can we chat about Of Mice and Men now, while Sawyer threatens to shoot SmokeLocke in the head like Lenny if he doesn't start reminiscing RIGHT NOW about how he used to be a person who felt joy and pain and fear and felt betrayal and the sadness of losing loved ones, before he got "trapped," whatever that means, probably something related to "claimed" and "candidates."
After you'd just had a super-tense confrontation that involved sticking a gun in the face of some kind of magical shape-shifting god-thing who's flouncing around in your pal's skin-suit, would you ever agree to follow that being down a rickety ladder, and then down an EVEN JANKIER ROPE LADDER that is almost certain to snap and send you tumbling to a watery death, just because you were told you're "so close" to getting some answers?
Now that you put it like that, it all sounds uncomfortably like a metaphor for our Lost fandom. Anyway, we're in! Can the ladders be covered in some kind of oil-based lubricant, too, just to make things really nuts? No? Just regular amazingly dangerous breakaway ladders? Fine, we're still in! Ladders are fun!
What's with all the numbers in front of the names on the wall of this weird cave only accessible by those amazingly dangerous breakaway ladders?
Oh, that? Eh, Jacob has "a thing for numbers."
Isn't dismissively remarking that Jacob has "a thing for numbers" kind of like saying Sawyer has "dabbled in nicknames"?
Well, if you're going to be all sarcastic about it, sure, maybe the numbers explanation is a little less than satisfying.
Wouldn't a god-like being with the ability to travel through time be able to devise an accounting system somewhat more advanced than scrawling names in chalk on the wall of what must be a pretty damp cave?
Are we losing you? We feel like we're losing you a bit here. Have you seen our scale, balancing the white and black stones that quite obviously represent Jacob and Mr. Smokemonsterton? Or how about over here, in the back of the cave, where we've got a giant chess set with pieces carved in the likeness of all our recurring characters? No? Too on the nose? There's no pleasing you.
What are all these crossed-out names we don't immediately recognize, with high numbers in front?
Those are just there to get the geeks to do high-definition screen captures and spend a sleepless night connecting them to one-off characters from earlier seasons. Oh, and one of them is the maiden name of IslandFever1986's mom, because that dude's a douche. He once called Damon Lindelof a "shiny-headed dharmagobbler who's pulling these stories out of his ass" on the Lostpedia Forums because he didn't enjoy the deep breath of fresh air that was the Paulo and Nikki episode.
Sweet baby Jacob, can't anyone remember to refill this faculty break-room coffee pot once in a while, or does Ben always have to do it?
You know, it doesn't take a homicidal genius capable of running a secret colony on a magic island at the behest of an invisible boogeyman who ignores you for years and years despite your undying loyalty to pour some water into this stupid machine, spoon out some grounds, and then flip the damn "on" switch, does it? It's not like he's asking you to follow him down to the basement to help turn a frozen donkey wheel that will send the entire middle school back to a time when the coffee pot is full, you inconsiderate lazy-pants. (And yes, we're talking to you, new substitute gym/sex-ed teacher. Let's get off on the right foot in this timeline, shall we? Ben hasn't murdered you...yet)