Dear Carlton and Damon:
Everyone loved your first season. Hey, you single-handedly saved a network and inspired other networks to created mindless clones of your show that weren't very good. You created a phenomenon, spawned countless arguments, chat room discussions, web searches for Geronimo Jackson, even made people try to read classic literature. You've gotten people to talk about electromagnetism, cloning, and polar bear mating patterns (sometimes at the same time!). You've spawned hundreds of websites, launched dozens of podcasts, and inspired a whole summer of internet cross promotion.
I've totally defended you for the past season and a third. I hung in there during the slow down of season two (hey, everyone can have a sophomore slump). I supported the button, the strange heiroglyphs, the debate over whether the button was important or not, whether the countdown was real or a psychological experiment. I was excited about the black-light map, the first looks at Smokey the Lostzilla Monster. I didn't HATE Ana-Lucia and I was genuinely shocked with the actions of Michael (though I got reeeallly tired of his yelling for Walt).
I really enjoyed season two's finale--the hatch implosion, the violet light, the sound, the kidnapping, the Jack doppelganger in Portugal or wherever he was.
I even patiently explained to everyone that the split schedule for season three was a good thing. Six episodes in a row and then a break (it's during the holidays when people don't watch as much TV anyway). And then . . . nonstop LOST all the way to the end. I'm okay with that (even if I'm NOT okay with Taye Digg's show).
But, seriously guys? Have you been reading the internets? Have you been searching with the Google? Are you aware that people are giving up on you guys and giving up on your show? Are you so isolated with your yes men, show runners, and coffee delivery that you aren't aware that Heroes is eating your lunch? That is it the new darling, the new LOST season 1? That Tim Kring (who I have heard is a friend . . . whatever) is pointedly saying that HIS show gives ANSWERS and doesn't make the fans WAIT. Are you gonna take that?
More importantly, am I going to look like a deluded jerk for supporting you when this is all over? You said that this first six episode pod to begin season three would be great, would be exciting, would carry us over until February.
But, so far, I'm not sure. What have we learned? Why do we still have NO inkling how the people in the Hatch escaped from it's implosion with no (permanent) damage? Why are you foisting Nikki and Paolo on us when there is absolutely no indication why they are important at all? Is the eye-patch guy in one of the other hatches even REMOTELY important?
What you have shown us this season is the departure of Eko . . . but no understanding for why. Sure, it seems that Locke might have gotten some of his momentum back, but what's he going to do with it? And hey, thanks for all of the deep insight into Jack, Kate, and Sawyer and whatever the hell is happening over on Other Alcatraz. It's been great fun to see Kate and Sawyer bust up rocks while Jack sits around and does absolutely nothing but yell at people. (Heck, he used to do that back at Lostaway camp, but at least there Hurley got to say "Dude, calm down." every once in a while.)
So, what I'm saying is . . . get on with it. If you are going to start showing sixteen nonstop episodes starting in February, they had damn well better be worth it.
Proposition Sawyer to join the Others Team.
Bring Michael and Walt back from their wanderings in the boat.
Explain why Desmond can predict the future.
Give Charlie more to do that be a enormous asshole.
Make Hurley the bastard child of Alvar Hanso.
Whatever. But do it fast . . . because if you haven't heard, all people want to do now is
3 comments:
I quite enjoyed reading your open letter and share all of your sentiments. I'm no longer excited by LOST, even though I'm hanging in there for unknown reasons. I guess I'm hoping it will get better again.
Shirtless accused me of no longer "drinking the LOST koolaid" and I admit that the tone of my open letter is more negative than I've been in the past, I should clarify.
I'm still drinking the Koolaid, I'm just not stirring the pitcher anymore. I might be casting suspicious glances at my glass of Koolaid and letting it get a bit lukewarm before I drink it, but I'm trying to be hopeful.
Generally, I wrote the letter as a warning . . . a call to arms. I'm a lone prophet crying out in the wilderness, eating locusts and wild honey. Repent and be saved before it is too late!
Too bad Cuse and Lindelof don't read Why Won't You Grow?!
Post a Comment