Why I Won't Quit Worrying and Love the Golden-Vagina Stream: The Anti-Science Argument of ABC's LOST

Three days after the LOST finale, the smoke is beginning to clear. My own rage over the direction that the finale took us is starting to subside. While I could focus on the bits that made me most angry initially—the hackneyed, soft-focus reunions that weren’t true to some of the characters (Shannon and Sayid? Really?); the incomprehensible, slap-dash pacing and plotting (how many times does Ben Linus have to switch sides?); the small, niggling inconsistencies raised in the last ten minutes (if Unitarian-Church-Purgatory is a place without time, how can someone stay there “for awhile”?), I won’t. Other people can discuss those things, and probably more thoroughly and better than I.

Instead, what I want to focus on is what’s proven to be LOST’s overarching theme: the battle between faith and skepticism. Because, though the writers didn’t offer us many answers in the two and a half hour finale, they did offer us one: that the search for answers at all is in vain. That faith rules and science, well, drools.

Scientists are lonely people! But everyone loves a musician!

The conflict between “men of science” and “men of faith” is well established in the show’s first and second season. After John Locke is miraculously healed of his need for a wheelchair in the show’s pilot episode, he becomes a dogged defender of the Island’s greater purpose, particularly after he discovers a mysterious hatch buried on the Island. His faith in this greater purpose leads him to do some pretty odd things, like inadvertently sending his buddy Boone to his death, pushing a button every hundred and eight minutes, and turning a frozen donkey wheel to transport himself off the Island. Though he sometimes has moments of doubt, once he’s told something (for example, that he needs to die to reunite the Oceanic Six), he generally accepts it unquestioningly as part of a greater plan—no matter how arbitrary it may initially seem.

Of course, this doesn’t gibe with spinal surgeon Jack Shephard, who objects strongly to the high human cost of Locke’s actions after Boone’s death; he demands answers of Desmond about the nature of the hatch, and then treats those answers (and the accompanying orientation video) with skepticism. As he says: “Don’t tell me you believe this. This is crazy. You think that makes sense — pushing a button? You’re going to take his word for it?” (“Orientation”). Through much of the series, Shephard doesn’t accept anything at face value—instead, he wants proof.

The search for answers makes you into an alcoholic pill popper!

It’s difficult to discuss this theme in LOST without drawing obvious comparisons to The X-Files, which not only similarly included a seemingly-complex mythology, with mysterious happenings introduced in the show’s first episodes, but whose main characters were, likewise, a (wo)man of science and a man of faith. Mulder, like John Locke, began his series with an unwavering faith in the supernatural after experiencing it first-hand. His infamous desire to “believe,” not to mention his general lack of a spiritual faith, was contrasted against both Dana Scully’s stubbornly-skeptical regard for the paranormal and her Catholic beliefs.

Through the course of The X-files, as is the case with Jack Shephard in LOST, Dana Scully undergoes a conversion of sorts. But, as we’ll later see, this isn’t precisely the complete turn-about experienced by Jack. Rather, Scully’s exacting, scientific nature leads her to persistently explore and question the supernatural. It’s through this questioning (not to mention her own abduction), rather than through blind acceptance, that she discovers the broader alien conspiracy at work. Though by the series’ end she appears to be much like Fox Mulder, the change actually represents a tempering of her skepticism, not a complete rejection of it. In truth, Scully simply moves the goal posts of her scientific beliefs to incorporate new evidence into them, rather than eliminating the goal posts completely.

Now, I’m not going to pretend that the ending of The X-files is exemplary, or that it was satisfying for me. I think we can all safely say that the mythology of that series imploded on itself in a very real way, and it’s understandable why, in a 2005 interview with EW.com, executive producer Damon Lindelof said: ”The bigger lessons to be learned from X-Files and Twin Peaks is not to make a show about questions, but people [. . .] When you keep it about characters, the audience never gets bogged in the mire of ‘mythology.’” Still, you can look at the individual character arcs of Scully and Mulder and see how their mutual search for answers is, in fact, not in vain—even if it does have its dangers and incurs losses for both parties—but that it ultimately draws them together in a very human way; by the final scene of the movie that ends the franchise, The X-files: I Want to Believe, the two are engaged in a loving romantic relationship—even if Mulder’s unwavering pursuit of the supernatural (in short, his “faith”) has, at times and even recently, shaken the foundations of their relationship.

I wasn't even a shipper and my heart was warmed!

We learn a very different lesson about faith in LOST.

As the series neared the conclusion, the writers began to drop hints about the sort of message they were planning for the finale in interviews. True to their earlier stated intention of making the story about characters, and not questions, they began to be explicit about leaving threads hanging. “The ultimate mystery for us on ‘Lost’ is not, you know, what is the origin of Jacob or where is this Island in the South Pacific,” said Lindelof’s co-producer Carlton Cuse in a Washington Post interview in the week before the finale, “it’s who are these people. That’s what we feel obligated to address in the final hours of the show.”

This was made clear on the show itself, too, and in no episode was it more explicit than in “Across the Sea,” which explored the origins of Jacob, the Island’s mysterious guardian, and his nemesis, the “Man in Black.” Although we learn directly of how they came to the Island in this episode (their mother was shipwrecked there while pregnant, and then was brained to death with a rock by Allison Janney, the Island’s previous protector) and how they became immortal (Jacob was made so by his foster mother; the Man in Black was murdered by Jacob and then transformed into a monster by the unexplained energy at the “heart” of the Island), we never learn the true nature of the Island itself, or of how Allison Janney got there in the first place. We’re shown a magical, glowing cave and told that one of the boys will eventually need to protect it, but the nature of the light itself is left vague:

BOY IN BLACK: What’s down there?
MOTHER: Light. The warmest, brightest light you’ve ever seen or felt. And we must make sure that no one ever finds it.
BOY IN BLACK: It’s beautiful…
MOTHER: Yes it is. And that’s why they want it. Because a little bit of this very same light is inside of every man. But they always want more.

America's most beloved golden-vagina stream.

Is the light some sort of life force? What does it do? Why would men want more? Because it’s beautiful? What kind of answer is that? Is it a pool of souls, or an alien spacecraft, or the Fountain of Youth, or a piece of the big bang? Do men want it because they think it will make them immortal? What, precisely, are the bad things that will happen if the light is disturbed? No one ever asks. In fact, Allison Janney tells the boys’ birth mother (and, by proxy, the audience) to quit bugging her with the stupid questions and to focus on feeling wonderful about the fact that she’s still alive (though that won’t last long!) instead:

CLAUDIA: How did you get here?
MOTHER [applying medicinal substance to Claudia's leg wounds]: The same way you got here. By accident.
CLAUDIA: How long have you–
MOTHER: Every question I answer will simply lead to another question. You should rest. Just be grateful you’re alive.

In case we weren’t sufficiently warned yet about the dangers of a curious nature, one of Allison Janney’s foster sons, the Boy/Man in Black, is determined to leave the Island and discover where he comes from. His spirit of adventure and inquiry is rewarded by his being knocked unconscious by his “mother” (who tells him he can’t leave because she “loves him”) and then being transformed into a terrifying monster by his now-immortal brother. Awesome.

By the finale, the writers decide to quit teasing us and give us answers—not about the Island, but about the wrong-headedness of asking questions—directly. They let Jack tell us (and the Man in Black) how wrong he was in the last episode of the series: “You’re not John Locke. You disrespect his memory by wearing his face, but you’re nothing like him. Turns out he was right about almost everything. I just wish I could have told him that while he was still alive.”

Right about almost everything.

Like Claudia, by the finale we’re meant to stop asking questions and to let go. Instead, we were supposed to just get behind the show’s feel good message. Very little about the true nature of the Island is revealed, but we learn that the “sideways timeline” of the last season was, in fact, a kind of bardo or purgatory where the characters can reunite before ascending to a higher plane of existence, or something.

What, no flying spaghetti monster?

Apparently, all manner of things happen after Jack Shephard dies (Hurley and Ben become protectors of the Island, for instance), but we’re told not to worry our pretty little heads about that. No, no, Christian Shephard tells us (in a Unitarian-Church-like setting, with a stained glass window with all sorts of religious symbols; only the atheists are left out, I guess), it’s time to be happy and let go:

CHRISTIAN: This is a place that you–that you all made together–that you could find one another. The most important part of your life was the time you spent with these people. That’s why all of you are here. Nobody does it alone, Jack. You needed them and they needed you.
JACK: For what?
CHRISTIAN: To remember….and let go.
JACK: Kate–she said we were leaving.
CHRISTIAN: Not leaving, no. Moving on.

If you suspect that this message didn’t sit well with me, then you’re right.

Part of my problem is that this attitude seems to be an anti-scientific one, which is supported in the lives of certain characters in purgatory. Daniel Faraday, named for physicist Michael Faraday and unarguably the show’s most important scientist, is no longer a neurotic physicist at all in the purgatory world. Instead, as we learn in the appropriately named “Happily Ever After,” he is an easy-going musician. When he experiences flashes of his life on the Island, they confound him:

DANIEL: First time I saw her was walking through this museum, few weeks ago. She, she works here. She was on her lunch break. She was eating a chocolate bar. She has these incredible blue, blue eyes, red hair. And, as soon as I saw her, right, right in that moment, it was like, it was like I already loved her. And that’s when things got weird. [Takes a notebook from his bag.] That same night after I saw that woman, I woke up and I wrote this.
DESMOND: So what is it?
DANIEL: I’m a musician. I have no idea. So I took it to a friend of mine at Caltech. He’s a math whiz. He said this is quantum mechanics. He said these equations are so advanced that only someone who’d been studying physics their entire life could have come up with them.

Tellingly, in his rosy afterlife, Daniel no longer retains the scientifically-themed last name of Faraday. His mother Eloise, who likewise had a nod to physicist Stephen Hawking in her on-Island surname, also loses this reference, as she’s now married to Charles Widmore.

I wouldn’t be quite so unsettled by this message had the writers chosen, instead, to end with the debate between skepticism and logic unresolved, or (like is the case with Dana Scully) suggested that a temperance of the extremity of one’s attitudes is probably the way to go. After all, the debate between faith and rationality is not, in life, one that can really ever be won. And yet, in an interview with WIRED, Cuse and Lindelof imply, in one breath, that the question is actually unanswerable—and then state that they’re going to answer it:

Lindelof: That’s right. It’s order versus chaos, which is what it always was. But first it had to start as science versus faith, because Jack is a doctor and Locke is a guy who got up from his wheelchair and walked. Now the question has been boiled down to its essential root—is there a God or is there nothingness?
Carroll [a theoretical physicist]: Presumably, if it is order versus chaos or purpose versus randomness, there is no right answer. It’s not as if in the finale you’re going to say, “Yup, it was order.”
Cuse: I don’t think there’s a right answer.
Lindelof: But the show can’t have its cake and eat it, too. At the end of the day, if Locke and Jack were to sit down and say, “Well, we were kind of both right,” that would not be satisfying. It has to come down one way or another.

Does it, Lindelof? Does it really? You really think you can provide us with an answer to this, and not tell us what was up with the golden-vagina-stream-pool-light thing?

I can’t help but feel like Cuse and Lindelof decided to come down on the side of faith because it deflects questions, not just about life, but about LOST itself. Already, criticisms about the finale—from what was wrong with the writing, to all those threads left dangling—are beginning to be deflected by truisms grokked from the show’s last season. “Questions will only lead to more questions!” those who loved the finale say, as if fans whose curiosity lingers are five-year-olds with no knowledge of the outside world who are demanding to know why the sky is blue. “What matters was the time we spent with the characters!” they insist, making us seem heartless for having concerns besides seeing Shannon* and Boone again. They tell us that we watched for the wrong reasons—never mind that a good many viewers tuned in because there were polar bears on a tropical island, not to mention a giant smoke monster, and a bunch of Egyptian iconography, and a shark with a DHARMA sign on its tail, and it seemed like a reasonable expectation that, once the writers created these mysteries for us, they would answer them for us, too.

I, for one, want to go on the record as feeling fine with the fact that life’s bigger questions—questions about the afterlife, for example—are unanswerable, at least by network television. I was never looking at LOST to comfort me about life after death, or affirm for me that one’s interpersonal relationships actually, you know, matter. Instead, I watched because I wanted to know what was up with the polar bears, with Walt’s super powers, and with the time travel stuff—answers that surely they could have provided by the writers with more authority than answers about the afterlife. They were the ones who raised those questions for us, after all.

*Shannon and Sayid? Really??!!

14 Comments

  1. I've always found the science-vs-fate debate to be stupid. Let me say, at the outset, that I'm an atheist/skeptic/rationalist. Having come clean about that, I will also admit that I could not live my life without faith — and neither could you.

    In order to get the daily work of living done, we MUST answer many, many questions. Science and logic can help with many of them, but not all of them.

    If I ask my friend to watch my dog for me, will he do it, or will he kill my dog while I'm gone? Science can NOT answer that. I will probably wind up leaving my dog with my friend, because I have FAITH that he will be take care of it.

    Yes, there's a sort of induction I probably use, too: my friend has been kind in the past, therefor he will probably be kind in the future. But, in the end, if I'm honest with myself, I take a leap of faith when I actually choose to leave my dog with him.

    Science is founded on faith. I'm not saying, "Science is just another religion," and I don't think it is. I think it's very different from religion. But there are founding principles of science, like causation, that can't be proved. They must be taken on faith, or you can't get any work done with science.

    And, of course, all faith-based people use science constantly. I bet the Pope wonders what his cat likes to eat and so tries feeding it Kibbles 'n Bits and then Meow Mix. That's doing science. We all do it, usually multiple times a day.

    When the pre-faith, man-of-science Jack said, "I'm going to get everyone off this island," that was not a statement of science, that was a statement of faith. When Lock tried all sorts of things to open the hatch, it sure looked like he was experimenting to me.

    When you're on an island and dangers are coming at you right, left and center, and you have incomplete information and often no way of getting complete information — and you have to make a decision NOW — what should you base your decision on? Science or faith?

    You should base it on whatever tools you have at the moment.

    What's true is that many "people of faith" feel attacked by skeptics. And so they get defensive and retreat further into labeling themselves as people of faith. And rationalists feel trapped in a world of irrationality, so they define themselves as "people of science."

    (I bet there are some rationalists who will be really upset by me claiming that they use faith to make decisions. But I suspect that anger is less to do with my point than my choice of phrasing. If I said, "Do you ever go with your gut?" they would probably say yes. What's the difference between that and faith?)

    This is a real schism, but it's much more a psychological one (and sometimes a political one) then a metaphysical one.

    We can have a real, meaningful discussion about whether we should trust a SPECIFIC question to science or faith. So I'm not saying that discussions about whether Evolution is real are meaningless.

    But should we LIVE BY science or faith in general? That's already answered. Or rather, I don't know — or really care — what we "should" do. Because I know what we WILL do. We will do what we always have done. We'll trust empiricism sometimes and faith other times.

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    • Oh, I definitely agree that the argument here is one that's much more about semantics and feelings than an actual divide. They could have easily labeled these positions "defensive" (though that's pretty loaded) and "trusting" or "hesitant" and "impulsive" and it probably would have been more accurate. One of the things I liked about The X-Files version of this debate is that Mulder was both the non-believer in terms of religion and the believer in terms of broader supernatural things, and Scully was religious, but wanted proof for monsters and aliens and things. Lost seemed to go for a less nuanced approach–this is particularly clear in the character of Eko (who I thought about discussing here, but decided I was being exhaustive/exhausting enough!)–in that "faith" in the supernatural is clearly tied with religious faith, thematically. For Locke, certainly, they seem to stand in for one another (even if he does require proof–his being healed–to have faith at the outset).

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  2. I'm not going to offer any crazy insightful things. I wasted some time post-finale into the wee hours of the morning looking for other people's interpretations of the finale and coming up with little more insight than I already had. Someone had mentioned the 3rd act of "Our Town," and I think that's a good summation of what the sideways world was about. Ultimately I think the only goal those guys had was to keep us all chatting about their show– the fan response, the theories, the suggestions. Our thoughts about the show were way better and cooler than what the show itself gave us.

    What I really wanted to say was (1) that is hands down the best screencap of Locke, and I thought as much in the montage flashback of his Island life, and (2) I thought twice about Daniel saying his last name was Widmore too, but totally didn't notice Eloise's name had changed. Wasn't Penny Daniel's stepsister? Does that change anything about her existence in the sideways world? Not that it matters.

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  3. Aw, yeah, but like, I watched "Six Feet Under" to get my morbid, Our Towny fix. LOST I watched for polar bears. After awhile, I just start to feel like they threw things like that in there as a ratings gambit to grab viewers like me, who wouldn't have otherwised cared about their message of islandy glowyness.

    I think Penny and Daniel were halfsies, not step-sibs, in both "universes."

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  4. Man, it's really sounding like a good thing to not watch Lost at all.

    I get the impression that people (and really the media in general) interpret "man/woman of science" to mean "jackass know-it-all," while more religious individuals are often portrayed as more "open" to various ideals. But isn't it really the reverse? Scientists openly admit to not knowing, which is why they run experiments (to find answers to questions). And the religious, particularly people of a specific faith, are often close-minded about the philosophies of others, or at least disregard those beliefs. There's exceptions, of course, but how many Christians also thinks that Buddha existed and is a spiritual figure?

    And Marcus, I think you're right, the argument isn't logic versus faith, and as Phoebe said, much of that is semantics. However, there really is an issue in rational decision-making versus personalized leaps of faith in making important decisions, things that go beyond even "gut instincts" (I would even put gut instincts, based on one's fight-or-flight response that has been honed through generations upon generations of natural selection, on a higher plane than someone thinking there's a being in the sky sitting on a cloud).

    It's worrisome that a show that so many people admire and watch may be giving support to those basing their decisions only on personal beliefs. It essentially gives credence to the parents not vaccinating their kids in the face of all of the evidence to do so because parents know it's bad. Or going to war based on some very flimsy evidence and a lot of personal assumptions.

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  5. "Scientists openly admit to not knowing, which is why they run experiments"

    Yes, this is key. When Locke would say things like, "We have to push the button because we were MEANT to," and Jack pooh-poohed the idea, he was not being "a man of science." He was being a skeptic, which is not the same thing — even though most "men of science" are skeptics.

    Locke proposed a hypothesis: we were meant to. A scientist would try to prove this true or false, and would withhold an opinion until the evidence had swayed him one way or the other. A scientist might also rule the hypothesis unfalsifiable, which would rule it not provable or disprovable by scientific inquiry.

    When a skeptic says, "Come on! Bigfoot doesn't exist," that is NOT a scientific statement. It's a very reasonable statement.

    What he means is, "People have searched for bigfoot for years, and no reliable evidence has turned up. Maybe we haven't DEFINITIVELY answered the question as to whether or not such a creature exists, but to do so, we'd have to do massive amounts of field work, and, frankly, since there's no real evidence in favor of bigfoot, I'm not going to waste my time on it. There are a lot of other hypotheses with more merit, and life is short."

    That, to me, is an extremely sensible attitude, but it's not a scientific one. It's pragmatic. Science is often used (well) by pragmatists, but science isn't the same as pragmatism. For instance, if you're being chased by a tiger, it probably isn't pragmatic to do stop and conduct a scientific experiment.

    "However, there really is an issue in rational decision-making versus personalized leaps of faith in making important decisions"

    Yes, but I think the problem is that we try to generalize this debate too much, and it's not really generalizable. You need to take it important decision by important decision.

    Let's say I HAVE to make decision X. And let's say I can't just choose not to make it. It's vital that I make it.

    Okay, in the case of X, do I have a rational basis for making the decision? Or are there tests that I can do (and do I have time to do them) that may lead me to a rational basis for decision making?

    IF that's the case, then I (being a rationalist), would say that of course we should go with the rational. But you really need the above qualifiers for the debate to even make sense.

    When I discuss this with people, because it's linked to so many emotional buttons, the conversation gets muddled very quickly.

    People bring up loved ones who have died or how we need to stop the Religious Right making political decisions for us… And those are important topics. Maybe they are more important than a metaphysical debate about faith verses reason, but they are NOT a metaphysical debate about faith verses reason.

    When a show like LOST comes on and brings up "faith verses reason," and people "debate it," nine times out of ten, what they really do is vent.

    One "debater" is really talking about how his asshole dad forced him to go to church as a kid; another is really talking about how his belief in God helped him get through that terrible time when he was so poor that he had to live on the streets.

    Or people are angry (as I often am) about education — they are pissed off that our schools are bad at teaching reasoning skills.

    I agree that there is, under all of this (worthwhile) emotion, an actual, practical topic about decision making. But the only way to get to it is via specifics: what is the SPECIFIC decision we are trying to make and what tools do we have to make it with?

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  6. Every time I see Locke with that orange in his mouth I lol.

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  7. [i]When I discuss this with people, because it’s linked to so many emotional buttons, the conversation gets muddled very quickly.[/i]

    Very true. But in this case, in terms of generalizations, it seems that if someone describes themselves as a rationalist or a person of faith, it indicates their philosophy on life, how it determines their actions and beliefs. And if that's the case, like you said, it's not something that should be argued. It's the "every person is a snowflake" deal, where every person follows a different philosophy that works for them.

    But it sounds like Lost really pushes for one side completely. Telling your viewers that "everything is alright, don't even question a thing, things always work out in the end no matter what," is a terrible theme that sounds more like a dressing for very poor writing.

    I'm more worried about the extrapolations of this. It's when people start creeping those philosophies or ideas into realms that probably shouldn't be put into place that it becomes a real issue. A controversial example would be people using their faith, their gut instinct, in understanding how the universe was formed and how organisms came about. Something that the scientific method has and is capable of elucidating and comes at odds with many people's different faith, and yet people will doggedly, to the very end, not change their faith in the face of overwhelming evidence and proof.

    I don't know, it sounds like Lost is a show that supports complete ignorance. And there's people that love that. Shouldn't that be disturbing?

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  8. I agree with most things you say in this article. I was one of the people who apparently watched the show for the wrong reasons, even though to me it was clear that the writers used all those little mysteries to tie viewers to the show.

    "Wanna know more about the strange thing that just happened? Tune in next week to find out more."

    So for me it comes down to bad writing. To be honest I felt that it went downhill at the end of season 3 and if it hadn't been for the illusion of looming answers I would've stopped watching the show at some point.

    It's easy to start mystery story elements and make them seem interesting. The difficult part is finding a good resolve, which the writers of LOST were incapable of. Just imagine the LOST story as a 2-hour feature film. It would be a pretty bad and barely watchable SciFi flick.

    It's a shame, really. Many individual episodes were very well done, but the way they ended the show leaves me with absolutely no desire to rewatch any of them.

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  9. Thanks for your thoughts, Fabio (and everyone! Really awesome discussion here). I keep thinking about how the writers claimed the show was about the characters. And, while by the finale I had some fondness for certain characters who had been with us since the beginning, my favorites were those introduced mid-series, under mysterious circumstances: Miles, Ben, and especially Desmond. It wasn't just the complex nature of these characters that intrigued me; the mysterious origins, identities, and motivations were what drew me into their stories and kept me watching the show. When you have a series where even certain characters are rooted in mystery, the argument that the mysteries never mattered just rings false.

    I don’t know, it sounds like Lost is a show that supports complete ignorance. And there’s people that love that. Shouldn’t that be disturbing?

    It's what disturbs me about the whole thing, Inha–I've seen so many people shut down even the discussions about this show with statements like "Spoilers: you'll die without getting all of the answers." And I can't help but shake my head; is this how they approach the mysteries of life and the world around us, or just fiction? Because to make an argument suggests that, yes, scientific inquiry, philosophic curiosity, and so on, are all in vain.

    And strangely, from the outset, LOST seemed to have philosophic and scientific connections. While some religious symbols have been sprinkled about, there were also characters named Rousseau and Hume and Locke, Faraday and Hawking. Turns out those names were next to meaningless. There's no real philosophic depth here–just easy answers.

    Which I find a bit disturbing even if I look at it from a religious stand-point. This is a show that suggests we should just have faith and not worry ourselves about the mysteries around us. Why? Because there's an afterlife–we see it. Showing us the afterlife in this way is not only a bit, I don't know, presumptuous, it also undermines the message of blind faith that the writers seemed to be fool-heartedly supporting.

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  10. Lol! Im about to eat my foot! Last time I was here, I commented on your post, Why Lost sucks, and I disagreed.

    Many weeks later, Lost has ended, and I take back my words. This show sucked big time. Nothing. No answer at all. It's like watching a movie and then at the time, you don't get the answer to the big question that was asked at the start of the movie, only, "The answer doesn't matter." Really? If I wanted that, I'd read the book of revelations!

    Man, all my years wasted on this show. I did watch Lost cos of the polar bear. That was creepy. I kept thnking, "What's a polar bear doing on a tropical island? What the hell is that black smoke? What the bloody hell is this island?" The little answers I got were meh. The main answers, I did not get. It proves the producers were just tossing all those polar bears and mysteries so we could keep coming back! God knows, if they didnt have polar bears and just made it about the characters, nobody would watch it.

    Waste of space TV show.

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