Lost, the television show in which no laws of physics, biology or narrative arc are sacred, is a hopelessly tangled mess of interconnected plot lines and mysteries that makes the best seasons of the X-files look about as complicated as an episode of Two and a Half Men. It is fifteen balls being juggled by a man standing on a tightrope a thousand feet over the burning maw of an active volcano in the heart of a hurricane, and if you expect me to look away even for a second, then you, sir, are the crazy one.
As the show careens, an out of control semi plummeting down the mountain with the brake line cut, toward an inevitable May conclusion I devour each episode with fierce intensity, begging the writers to turn the screw just one more time, vaguely hoping that the whole thing shatters. It's like watching Michael J. Fox play Jenga.
No, I can't believe I just said that either.
I'm like a lot of initial viewers in that around the middle of Season 2 -- you know, the one where the show went from cool mystery about a group of survivors in the pacific to a twisted morality tale of spirituality versus rationality as seen through the lens of cursed numbers -- I gave up on Lost. Perhaps unlike many of them, however, two seasons later I came back when it was announced that the show would have a solid end date. I caught up on the back episodes all at once and have been hopelessly engrossed in the show ever since, at least in part because I abandoned the preconceived notions I first came to show with and let the rapids drag me under. Once you bump your head on enough boulders, it really kinda stops hurting so damn much.
I won't begin to belabor the largely unintelligible plot twists, whose cartography would challenge the constant flirtations with doom of the North Yungas Road. Frankly, I should get a humanitarian award for restraining myself from going into detail about my philosophies on Christian allegory as described by the story of Locke and Ben.
Here's the thing. I forgive Lost all its transgressions precisely because it is so unpologetically audacious. It never backs away. It is unrelenting. It never consults a focus group. It never bends to the will of its viewers, and it is always entertaining. Haters be damned, I love Lost.