I think that I’m done with Lost.  Yep…pretty sure that I’m done with it.  I’ve watched all that I can watch.  I’ve suspended my disbelief far enough.  I felt strongly enough about the first two seasons that I forgave the last two.  I continued to watch when the “monster” turned out to be a cloud of black smoke.  I willingly trudged along as more questions went unanswered…and more, and more, and more.  And now…not even the sweet freckled face of Evangeline Lily can lure me back.  Because I’ve seen The Matrix Trilogy.  I know how this ends.  It ends with a deus ex machina in the form a baby’s face made out of robots.  It ends with someone waking up and saying “Oh my God.  I just had the craziest dream.  I was on an Island…and you were there, and Uncle Jack, and Farmer Sawyer.  Man…I sure am glad that I don’t feel lost anymore.”  I no longer have faith that these writers know where they’re heading.  They have officially written themselves into a black abyss in my opinion.  Done.  Finished.  Over.  I throw in the towel at a giant, wooden time-traveling wheel apparently stuck in an arctic cave at the center a of a tropical island.  And I’m supposed to be OK with all of this because Daniel Faraday says it can happen…and he’s a physicist y’all.  Respect.  Well…I’m just not buying it, folks.

That being said…wouldn’t you rather skip Lost tonight and come out to see the 3rd show of Batterymouth’s six week run at the Apollo Theater Studio?

See what I did there?