Mush Brain, Beard Face

I am no stranger to fake beards. My senior film project practically revolved around one (“You want a beard? Oh, I’ll give you a beard.” Some of the finest collaborative writing I’ve ever been a part of was in that twelve minute short). But last night, during Lost, and mesmerized by Jack’s heavily glued tufts, I could only think of that doctor on Scrubs with the big beard, and everyone always says to him “Get outta here Dr. Beardface!” and he always says “It’s Dr. Beard-Fah-chay, damnit! I am so sick of this!” Leave it to my feeble mind to reference one TV show with another.*

But seriously, for those who still have DVR-filled devices, don’t read further or else I’ll spoil it.

Charlie so did not have to die! That was weak! Run out of there, push Desmond into the water and both of you swim to the surface! Was it really necessary for him to close the door and lock it to take all the water in that enclosed space? Even if Desmond had run in there just because Penny’s face was on the video, there would have been more than ample time to check it out and then run out of there as the water spilled out of that room and into the rest of that station. That thing is monstrous, there would have been at least twenty minutes of time to get out and swim underneath and back to the surface. And what’s with Cyclops having more lives than Jason from Halloween?

And another thing, even if Charlie wanted to contain the water from coming in to somehow save Desmond’s life (not that that makes a lick of sense, but hey, I’ll play devil’s advocate), he already demonstrated his ability to hold his breath fairly long by getting down there, why then couldn’t he have waited for the pressurized water to stop gushing in, and then swum out of the little circle hole? You may say he was too big, but let me stop you right there. I saw Lord of the Rings, and hobbits are only about three feet high and maybe two feet in circumference (except for that chubby one, wow, Rudy has really let himself go). So hobbit Charlie, by reasonable calculations (or not) could have gotten out that way. Otherwise, Lost again tantalizes me with her siren song and minimal payoff.

Better than other season finales, but still I have to say, I thought all that Jack beard filler was nonsense—you’re a drunk who’s addicted to pills and no one loves you, wah wah wah, join the club, dude! You don’t see me whining about it. And if that really was the future (flash-forward versus flash-back), why the heck did you tell the new chief of surgery to get your father down there? The dude’s been dead for years! And also, all that teasing with who actually died was lame. No one showed up to the funeral but it was enough for you to try to off yourself? Yeah, that makes sense. Not! I’m just frustrated because I have to wait three months to find out—or knowing Lost—three years.

Wow, my brain is turning to mush. Thank goodness TV is ending so I can go jump around outside.


*PS. Zach Braff, you may fool other people, but not me. Just because you slapped together a half-decent soundtrack after reading a bunch of Pitchfork reviews (good call SNL) does NOT mean you are the greatest mind of our generation! Now quit acting like you’re under 30 and in The Shins. Plus, your chest is weird, like really, really weird. Please stop showing it all the time. You’re making us sick. Like really, really sick.