The Stormy Present – Society

We all know those movies that are hilarious for all the wrong reasons. The ones that you know are terrible, but if they’re on TV you can’t help but watch. In fact, if you’re like me you might even go out and buy a movie because it is so BAD that it is good and you have therefore have to own it.

It seems illogical and perhaps it is, but we all know at least a couple bad movies that we can’t resist. So the question I put to you is what is the best bad movie of all time?

For my money there are only two contenders for this crown.

The first is Aspen Extreme. This is a tale of two guys from Michigan who go out to Aspen to try and become top flight ski instructors. They find themselves in Aspen circa the 80s, surrounded by coke, hot women with big hair, and neon ski jackets. The main character succeeds in achieving his dream and is able to date an older rich woman. However, he soon realizes that the success has gone to his head and that he’s lost his friend and the hot down to earth girl who works at the radio station. His friend is not so successful so does blow and eventually dies in an avalanche. To make up for his friend’s death, the main character gets with the hot down to earth girl and then wins the powder eight competition.

The second movie, and the one that takes the crown of best bad movie ever, is Point Break. If I could write a dissertation of this movie I would. In fact, while studying for my masters my roommate and I tried to come up with a plot for a sequel to Point Break. We’ve all seen this movie so I won’t describe the plot; suffices to say that this movie magically combines Patrick Swayze acting his ass off while Keanu Reeves takes his degenerate acting to levels never before thought to exist. So the movie has two bad actors except the one that can’t get famous puts in the performance of his life while the one that went on to star in The Matrix can barely remember his lines. Oh and I almost forgot, Gary Busey shows up as Keanu’s FBI partner.

All told, Point Break exhibits all the telltale signs of a bad movie but behind the duo of Keanu and Swayze it inexplicably works. It’s impossible not to laugh every time Keanu draws out the “o” sound in “Bodhi” or “No!!!”. And yet it is similarly impossible not to watch this movie; so much so that the only thing holding me back from saying that this is the best bad movie of all time is the worry that it might not qualify as a bad movie. Nevertheless, I have to award Point Break with this title because by all accounts this should not be a good movie but it somehow all comes together to form a something amazing on every level.

Thus, Point Break is The Best Bad Movie of All Time. Of course I encourage you to agree, disagree, or list anything I might have missed in the comment section.

Tim McGraw just ensured that his status as an American icon will be put up for review as an American legend. For hundreds of country music fans around the world, it does get any better than Tim McGraw. To him he’s real, he’s talented, he sings about a world they live in and understand. Not to mention that if you mess get too rowdy with the ladies at one of his concerts, he is going to beat your ass.

During a show in Auburn, Washington, a ‘rowdy’ (news speak for ‘wasted’) fan rushed to the front of the stage, and apparently started being ‘overly aggressive’ with a female fan. McGraw witnessed whatever was going on, pointed the man out to security and said they needed to get him out of there. I’m not sure if they didn’t really believe him, but McGraw was quite serious, and he proceeded to reach down into the crowd and pull this giant man onto the stage (ok, he did have the help of two big security guards), then shove him over to security. When the big ole bubba rushed him, McGraw raised what I can only describe as a formidable fist, and said something along the lines of ‘anytime hoss.’

I mention all this not because we’re trying to revamp our Society page into the new TMZ, but I’m curious at to what the reaction would have been if this wasn’t a country concert, wasn’t even Tim McGraw’s concert, in fact. I’m not condemning McGraw’s actions, not in the slightest. But would people be as supportive of a music superstar pulling a fan out of the crowd on stage and shoving him off to the side if, say, this was a 50 Cent concert? Or if Keith Richards managed to land a punch on an unsuspecting vagrant?

I am curious as to people’s thoughts, but mostly I wanted an excuse to post that You Tube clip.

Given Brad’s previous post on this page about a job sucking the life out of him, I think it might be funny or at least cathartic for everyone (myself, Jeff, and Jim) to write about a job they had that they eventually had to quit because it was stealing their will to live. Here goes my story.

Armed with an MA in Political and Social Thought I returned home to set the world on fire with my incredible intelligence and knowledge. After I realized that was not going to happen I got a job with the Spartanburg Democratic Party.

I was not so naive that I thought I’d just stroll into their offices and they’d say, “holy shit it’s Trey Smith, please oh wise one help us come up with a policy to deal with (insert issue)”. However, I did expect those sorts of policy meetings to go on. What struck me was that I never once saw or heard about any such instance. Basically my job and everyone else’s job was to just strengthen the apparatus of the Party. But what does the Party stand for and who and where are the people that get to decide that? That is the question that haunted me every day and I did stuff that made me feel like part of the problem instead of giving me the peace of mind that I was seeking.

But here’s the paramount event that made me leave:

The closest thing there was to a policy discussion were meetings that the Party had once a month. For one of these meetings Bill Webster was the speaker. He served in the Clinton administration and had been the chair of the Greenville Democratic Party. He is also very wealthy. He’d made his money by being in the front office of Churches Chicken and was at that point working in the front office of one of those fast check/quick loan places. The subject of his talk was predatory lending, which I found interesting since he was working for the sort of place that was guilty of predatory lending. His speech was a good and well thought out argument for why his company wasn’t guilty of predatory lending and why such fast check/quick loan joints weren’t a scourge. I remained unconvinced. As he opened the floor to questions, I looked down at my moleskin notebook where I’d been taking notes as he spoke and where I had written some questions I’d prepared prior to the event. I prepared these questions after doing research on predatory lending so that I could ask something thoughtful. Unfortunately, and fatefully, I didn’t get the first question nor did I get the second or third questions and after that I stopped raising my hand. You see the first question was about statistical data; very on topic and a good question to ask. The second question, however, was about the confederate flag. No lie. After 30 minutes about predatory lending, this guy decided to ask a question about the flag. The third question was about whether or not South Carolina should go to a closed primary system instead of the open primary system we currently use. After that question I closed my moleskin book and sat quietly until the session was over at which point I sulked out the door. Here’s the kicker: the next day at the office I was told that Mr. Webster had asked who I was. I was a little flattered, but then came the stomach punch. When I responded, “why did he want to know who I was (hoping that it was so he could offer me a kick ass political job)”, they responded, “he thought you were a spy from the Republican Party.”

So not only was the closest thing to a policy discussion essentially a pitch to defend predatory lending, but the following questions were idiotic. And to top it off, my studiousness, driven by a desire for substantive discussion and questioning, was seen as a likely sign of espionage. After that job I swore off politics. So I quit that job and my other job as a bartender/waiter to move up to North Carolina to work as a ski instructor. And the cool thing is that my job as a ski instructor, where I had to work every day including holidays, was the only job I’ve ever had where never once did I wake up and think, “I don’t want to go to work today.”

I hate my job.  As I sit here at my desk it makes me want to write about how much I hate my job.  This writing, as well as the fact that I am so bored that I can write this, makes me hate my job even more.  It’s a vicious circle.  In an effort to cope with this hatred I will use my massive amount of free time to write a post, rather than look for another job.  First, I will pull a total chick move and compare myself to fictional characters from a few films and tv shows I like.  Second, I will attempt to explore the issue I have come to believe is present in my life, namely, whether my employment is immoral due to the fact that I contribute nothing to society.

As some of you may have realized, the title of this post is a combination of three things; The Office, Office Space, and High Fidelity.  I know, I’m clever.  I chose these three shows/movies because I find I relate to the main characters; Jim Halpert, Peter Gibbons, and Rob Gordon.  Unlike most women, however, I will focus on the negatives of these characters in their relation to my present state.  i.e. I don’t think I’m like Jim because he’s the good looking guy that everybody likes.

Jim Halpert is easily the most popular character on The Office.  I do not share such a trait.  I am similar to Jim, however, in that we are both very intelligent yet very unmotivated.  The only thing my job provides me is a fairly ample paycheck and health benefits.  Much like Jim in the pilot episode I begin to bore myself when I try and describe what I do, a task from which I will mercifully spare you.  It’s obvious that I’m not in the right place but getting another job is a full time job in itself, which doesn’t hold a great deal of appeal.  So I soldier on looking for humor at my office whenever its possible.  Unfortunately my supporting cast doesn’t include Steve Carell or Rainn Wilson, and I’m not really into pranks.  Still, I see a decent amount of my situation in the fictional life of Jim Halpert, which I guess is funny, or sad.

I feel like I have the most in common with Peter Gibbons.  For one thing, I’ve been told I look exactly like Ron Livingston, the actor who plays him (ladies this would be the same actor who plays Burger on Sex and the City, which I’m ashamed I know).  My employment resembles Peter’s in a number of ways.  In a given week I probably only do fifteen minutes of real, actual work.  I come in a few minutes late every day.  I tend to just space out for about an hour.  The fucking copier jams every goddamn time I have to use it.  And I’m seriously considering occupational hypnotherapy.  I have achieved the same level of malaise and the recognition that people weren’t meant to be confined to offices.  Like Peter, my job is slowly sucking the life out of me, and there’s no fu manchu wearing neighbor likely to help me out.  I can only hope I am able to have some kind of transformative experience similar to Peter’s.

Finally, I think I share some character traits with Rob Gordon.  This reference is a bit out of place in this because Rob is really more dissatisfied with his love life, not his job (by the way owning a record store is one of the coolest things I could possibly conceive).   However, I am a big fan of remembering every possible inane fact about the music I listen to.  Also this reference is necessary to make the title of the post work.

With all that being said I realize that what I’ve just written is an incredibly long and self-indulgent way of explaining why I titled the post “The Office Space of High Fidelity”, and I apologize.  Now we come to the real reason I thought to write this post, namely the moral quandary I face on a daily basis. 

I have long since abandoned any of the officially sanctioned explanations for why the hell we’re on this planet.  I think pretty much every version of God now in existence is misguided at best and flat out dangerous at worst.  Still, despite my pessimism, I still feel an abiding sense of purpose.  Half of me wants to say that this is merely the remnants of my Catholic upbringing rearing its ugly head, but the other half thinks there is more to it than that.  Currently, I truly do nothing that benefits society.  I dare say I don’t really do anything especially helpful to my company.  Thus, for 30% of my day I am not doing anything to help anyone. 

In high school and college I studied religion, history, and to a lesser extent, philosophy.  I reveled in opportunities to contemplate the moral order, speculate as to the nature of the universe and to simply be introspective and reflect on life in general.  I attempted to pinpoint the underlying principles of the social order.  And now I literally do nothing.  So my question is this, is there a moral dimension to employment?  Is it selfish to continue in a job that serves the needs of only one person or is there an ethical obligation to work for the improvement of society?  If I don’t really believe in the soul, then can my job really be destroying it?  I’m beginning to think that the answer to all of these questions is “yes.”

I swear to God and everything holy that I have not and will not go see the Sex in the City movie.

If as a red blooded American man you have gone to see this movie, I don’t think we should go so far as to entirely revoke your ‘Man Card’, but your manhood status is lowered into the ‘questionable’ range (Jim should write a post about how he has broken down manhood into the categories used for an NFL player’s likelihood to play in a game. That piece of machismo creativity makes up for the fact that he went to see Sex in the City).

Now, as I sit here and diss any man who goes to see that movie, I’m a bit of a hypocrite because while I refused to shell out the money for a movie ticket I did make my girlfriend tell me the plotline after she went and saw it. I asked about the plotline because, truth be told, I watched the show. That gets me to this: Sex in the City represents a strange problem for men everywhere and deserves some analysis.

If you had a girlfriend between 2000 and 2006 you saw at least one season of the show. And even though you pretended to be forced to watch it, it wasn’t a bad show. However, this led to a huge misnomer that manifests itself in a particular question universally asked by all girlfriends everywhere. If you have ever dated a woman since 2000 you have been asked in some form, “which one of the Sex and the City women do you think I’m most like.” Two things need to be said about this question.

First, there is only one possible answer: “You are the most like Carrie.” You can get bonus points if you say that your girlfriend’s slutty friend that she secretly doesn’t like is the blonde whorish one.

The second thing that needs to be said is that this question points to a serious distinction in the way men and women watched that show. Women seem to think that this show was based in reality. This leads to them taking life advice from these characters, which creates many of the problems we currently face in the world and can perhaps explain the failed campaign of Senator Clinton.

These problems arise because while women think the show has some basis in reality, men find it entertaining because it’s like all the negative parts about women have been personified in the four main characters of the show.

Girlfriends inevitably follow up their ‘which one am I’ question with the, “which one would you date” question. What’s telling is that ultimately none of them are datable. The blonde whore one talks like a dude, is old and probably has at least one STD. The red haired one is a femi-nazi who matches her off-putting personality (aka bitchiness) with physical unattractiveness. The brunette is good looking but the phrase ‘stuck up’ doesn’t even begin to fully describe her obnoxious high society stick in the mud ways. And then there is Carrie. While Carrie is the most datable of the four, which is why you have to say your girlfriend reminds you of her, that’s like saying you want to go on vacation to Turkmenistan if your other three choices are Iraq, Afghanistan, and Hell. In other words, it’s not a ringing endorsement. Carrie is kind of cool, but mostly crazy. She over analyses everything, is a shitty writer (all of her articles seem to start with the phrase, “I had to wonder …”), and is entirely fake. Let me guess, your girlfriend just read that sentence and said, ‘she’s not fake!’ Well simply turn to your girlfriend and point out that while she tries to be all bohemian and hippie-like, she constantly buys shoes, insists on going to the latest club opening, doesn’t know how to cook, and hates nature. So there it is; she’s a fake bohemian.

Personally, if I dated any of those four women it would last no more than three dates (which is apparently more than enough dating time for me to get laid by three of the four). Upon realizing their unusually high level of craziness, I would then break up with them and regale my friends with stories about their whorish/femi-nazi/prudish/fake bohemian ways. For the rest of my life my friends would have ample stories that began with the phrase, “Remember the time you were dating that crazy whore/femi-nazi/prude/fake bohemian chick?” The proof of this is that every man who watched the show identified with and liked Aiden and Carrie shat all over that poor bastard before breaking up with him to date an older guy who was mean to her, but rich. And then women seem to want to apply that twisted logic to real life!

For this reason any man can resist going to the movie because he doesn’t care what happens to those crazy hags after the show ended. Didn’t they all get married by the end anyway? Married people don’t even have much sex so shouldn’t the movie be called “sitting on the couch and watching Law and Order in the City”? (The real reason for this post is that I thought of that joke and needed an excuse to use it)

Women, on the other hand, will go to this movie because inexplicably they believe they are connected to these women somehow. But the reality is, if women seek to be more like those characters they make themselves less datable. Thus, the conclusion of my analysis is this: ladies, don’t emulate the Sex and the City women. Just go see the movie, realize that they are really just representative of the negative stereotype of gay man (shop all the time and have promiscuous sex) and that when you go home your boyfriend is glad that you are not a whore/femi-nazi/prude/fake bohemian chick.

Trey: Hello. My name is Trey Smith and I’ve been clean for about 2 years.

Support group: Hi Trey.

Trey: Um, geez, this is really difficult.

Support group leader: Go on Trey, you’re among friends. Just start from the beginning. Tell us how your addiction started.

Trey: Well, it was 2005. I had been rejected by several grad schools, and then committed to go to the University of Sussex in Brighton, England only to have the London School of Economics tell me that I’d actually gotten in to their school after it was too late to back out from Sussex. I guess you could say I was in a dark place intellectually. And that’s when I saw part of the season finale of Lost. I didn’t get what was going on, but it interested me. I was intellectually vulnerable at the time and it seemed smart and entertaining, which is rare in a TV show these days. I remembered seeing the advertisements for it before it premiered and thinking, that’s looks strange. But I didn’t make an effort to watch it because I figured ‘how are they going to keep a show about people on a desert island interesting?’ So I never watched the first season until, by accident, I saw the snippet of the finale for season one. That’s when my life changed. After my grad school let down, I guess was just too weak not to want to see what all the fuss was about.

It started simple enough, I just bought season one on DVD before going to England. Figured since I wouldn’t have a TV it would be a good way to pass the time. Harmless you know? So in England I watched the first episode. It was amazing. I couldn’t wait to see what would happen so I put on the next episode, then the next. My days were consumed with thoughts like, ‘what is that monster thing tearing down the trees?’ and ‘what’s the deal with the others.’ My nights, meanwhile, were spent feeding my addiction by watching episodes.

Support group leader: Did you know that you were addicted to Lost at that point?

Trey: God no! If I did I wouldn’t have … I wouldn’t have …

Support group leader: It’s alright, what did you do?

Trey: I got my girlfriend hooked on it. Man, she was so sweet and innocent! Why God, why?!?!

Support group leader: It’s not your fault, it’s the show’s. Trey, if you’re feeling strong enough, do you think you could tell us what happened next? I think it would really help others facing this addiction to Lost.

Trey: You’re right. I have to be strong so that others might also tear themselves away from this scourge. (deep breath). Ok, well I was on such a high after season one, I mean it was all I talked about and I couldn’t wait for season two. Fortunately my girlfriend had to go back home so she left England before her addiction got to be too much to handle. I, on the other hand, wasn’t so fortunate. My roommate at Sussex had a connection. He could have his friend send him the season two episodes over the internet and we’d watch them on the computer. By that time I was such an addict that the commercial breaks, which you obviously don’t have on the DVDs, drove me crazy, but not as much as the fact that I had to wait a week to see what would happen next instead of just popping in the next DVD. Man, things were such a blur at that point that all I remember was that the season two finale went off the island to show the hot British chick from Desmond’s flashbacks. That straight up blew my mind. I was such an addict at that point that it didn’t bother me that they brought in the ‘tailies’ just to add more characters and thereby add more people to have flashbacks and thereby increase the number of episodes you could have, which would lengthen the series. God, how could I have been so blind!

Support group leader: It was the addiction, Trey. Everyone here was duped just like you.

Anonymous support group member #1: Yeah, I was too addicted to notice that the monster from season one was barely an issue in season two.

Anonymous group member #2: You know I was too strung out on Lost to care that at least half the episodes in season two had absolutely nothing in them to advance the plot of the show.

Support group leader: Exactly. And what about that episode with the couple who buried a diamond or something on the island and then got buried alive after being bitten by a spider? That made no sense and had nothing to do with the story at all but at the time our addictions didn’t let us apply reason to the events. So we just kept watching like the addicts we were.

Trey: Yeah, the application of reason was suspended by our addiction and actually that’s how I managed to break Lost’s hold on me. The summer of 2006 I went home to write my MA dissertation and was reunited with my girlfriend. Not only hadn’t she seen season two, but she was also working on a dissertation. That summer I had to really use my reasoning ability to come up with arguments for my dissertation and got to spend time with my girlfriend who is intellectually challenging. We talked about all sorts of things, politics, life, culture; everything except Lost. For the first time in a long while I realized that Lost had suspended my ability to think critically. By the time my girlfriend left, I didn’t really care about Lost. Most importantly, at that time I was neck deep in writing my dissertation, which reacquainted me not only with reason but with what good writing is suppose to look like.

I remembered that in writing a paper there should be a clear purpose and that the arguments to prove your point should be well formulated and follow from one another. The points didn’t have to be completely linear, in fact complicated subject matter often means that your points will be somewhat jumbled. But by the end it should all fit together like a puzzle to form a definite, understandable and reasonable conclusion. Most importantly, I remembered that the dissertation should only be as long as it needed to be. If the argument is only going to take 50 pages, don’t put in a bunch of filler to make it 70 pages. Just because one paper is longer than another doesn’t mean it is better. A good dissertation is tightly put together, which means it will only go on as long as it has too.

Anonymous group member #3: So then you quit just like that?

Trey: I wish. That fall, once my dissertation had been handed in, season three started and I relapsed. I guess I still wasn’t strong enough to face down my addiction at that point. I just had to know what was going to happen with the British chick and Desmond, he was my favorite character. So I watched the season three premier. But something was different. I wasn’t getting as high from Lost anymore. It annoyed me that they didn’t answer questions but instead kept creating more questions. I couldn’t stop watching at that point, but it did force me to reach what they call ‘rock bottom.’ I kept watching Lost, but it just made me mad. I would yell at the TV and go into a funk after every show because they didn’t reveal anything meaningful. It was just more questions, and more stand alone episodes, and more flashbacks from characters that were boring.

What really helped me was that basketball season started and by the Grace of God the Duke games had a tendency to coincide with the day and time Lost was on. So I didn’t get off the junk cold turkey, but by the end of 2006 I was totally off Lost and back to living my life; clean and sober.

Support group: (applause)

[All the while a young man has been sitting in the back listening to Trey speak and rolling his eyes in disdain and just generally being restless and fidgety. He now stands up and points his finger Trey.]

Jeff: You people are so weak minded. Addicted to Lost?!?! Give me a break! I love the show and I’m not addicted. You people just can’t see that it is an amazing piece of entertainment that boggles the mind and you are too much of a sissy to handle your mind being boggled. I’m reasonable, I manage to lead a perfectly healthy life, and I love Lost and can see that it is good writing and speeding toward what will be the series finale event of our lifetime!

Support group: (grumbling)

Trey: Hold on guys, its ok. I know this guy, he and I used to talk about Lost before I kicked the habit.

Jeff: Yeah, and I still watch Lost every week and try to figure out what’s going on with my other friends, which is fun and you’re just jealous because you can’t join in the conversation.

Trey: Jealous?!?! No, just sad for you. Look, if it were good writing there wouldn’t be wasted episodes would there? And yet, there are tons of so-called ‘character developing’ episodes that don’t advance the plot as far as what’s happening on the island. Moreover, if it were really going to develop the characters, the flashbacks would have to reveal something meaningful about the person. Instead, they just create more questions about them. So instead of creating full and robust characters, they end up creating increasingly aloof and mysterious characters.

And let’s address that ‘mysterious’ aspect that the show thrives on. You and other addicts, and I was one so I’d know, will say things like ‘the show is sooo good because I don’t know what will happen next.’ Have you ever been around a 5 year old and asked what they did that day? They ramble on about all sorts of crap that has no bearing on the next thing they mention. Thus, it is impossible to guess what they’re going to say next. So not being able to predict what is going to happen next does not in itself represent brilliant writing or story telling.

Jeff: That’s a straw man argument. The writers know what is going on, JJ Abrams and the other producers said so.

Trey: So you just take a producer at their word huh? George Lucas said Indy 4 wouldn’t suck balls, how did that turn out? Producers only want money. That’s their job, to make the show or movie into a product that will rake in money. For a producer, good writing is subordinate to that end. A great example of this would be the movie Mission Impossible 3. The plot was going fine and dandy until the end. To save money, or maybe just to appear artsy, the second to last action sequence is where Tom Cruise has to break into this building to get a biohazard container with something really dangerous in it from the bad guys. But to cut back on length and money, they only show Cruise break into the building and then don’t show how he gets the container but rather cut to two people in the car outside talking and then Cruise jumps out of the building with the container. So you’re robbed of a potentially cool action scene for the sake of cost cutting. Wait, it gets worse. At the end, he has recovered this container and the MYSTERY is what is inside this thing that is so dangerous. But they don’t tell you. Cruise asks what’s inside it and his boss just says, ‘we’ll tell you later.’ That’s crap! And you know who produced that garbage, JJ Abrams.

To Abrams and his cohorts MYSTERY is just a means to keep you interested, not to create a good story. When I was addicted to Lost there were mysteries about what the monster was, why it only killed some people, and why it existed. Then you got to see the monster and it turned out to be black smoke that was either alive or controlled by someone. Um, I’m sorry did I miss something in science class?  A black smoke that can tear up trees and kill people? How are the writers going to explain that? They can’t! They are just going to say MAGIC and call that an explanation. The best case scenario is that they explain it using some sort of pseudo science like remote viewing. My question to you is how satisfactory is that going to be having watched this show all the way through only to be told that it’s mysteries are explained by quack science.

Jeff: They aren’t going to end the show by saying, MAGIC. They might use pseudo science, but it will all make sense in the universe that they’ve created.

Trey: Ah ha! But isn’t a great deal of the pleasure you derive from Lost a result of trying to figure out what’s going on or what’s going to happen? And if they are going to use scientific rules that they are making up on the fly, then it’s impossible for you to figure out how to explain anything. They keep you guessing only because you don’t know the rules, you don’t have insight to their random thoughts just like you don’t have access to the thought process of a 5 year old telling a story.

What’s more is that the show is written by a team of writers working independently. So one guy might come up with a show and have new mysteries crop up and even if that writer sees how to resolve that mystery later, the next episode is written by another writer who creates his own mysteries. So you end up with a bunch of different mysteries made up by different writers and even if they all knew how to resolve their own mysteries, the individual resolutions may not make sense inside the larger whole of the show. One resolution may jibe with another resolution.

So just admit that there is no way that Lost is going to end in a way that answers all the mysteries it has created in a way that will be satisfactory to anyone that has a 6^thgrade understanding of physical science or realizes that good story telling is able to come to a conclusion that resolves the problems it has set up without bringing in ‘evidence’ or ‘explanations’ that weren’t made available to the audience.

Jeff: No.

Trey: Ok well at least admit that the show would be improved if instead of trying to stretch it out to 7 seasons they made it 4 seasons. Admission of that is the first step toward recovery because you realize that they are extending this just to make more money then you’ll realize that the quality of writing has taken a backseat to profits, which entails that mysteries have to be cooked up to keep you interested and whether or not they can resolve those mysteries in a reasonable, well written way is unimportant.

Jeff: Maybe it would be better if it was only 4 season, but that doesn’t mean that I should quit the show. I’ve already invested so much in it. I mean when I think of all the time I’ve spent watching the show and looking at internet forums that theorize how the mysteries will be solved using pseudo science … oh my God, what have I done with my life! I mean I’m the guy who had to explain Stephen Hawking’s book to you because I understood it and you didn’t totally get it. There’s no way I’ll be happy with an ending that uses pseudo science to explain things. I mean Locke heard a voice from an invisible guy in a rocking chair and I thought nothing of it. What have I become!!!

Trey: It’s ok man, it’s ok. This is the first step toward shaking off the addiction to Lost. We’ve all been there and it’s hard, but once you quit you’ll go back to the rational and thoughtful person you used to be.

[The entire support group stand up, go over to Jeff and embrace him in a group hug while Trey remains standing at the podium in the front of the room.]

Jeff: Thank you so much Trey, and thanks to the rest of you for being so supportive. [Jeff closes his eyes to fight back tears and to feel the comfort of a group hug. Suddenly, Jeff opens his only to realize that there is no one hugging him. The only people in the room are him and Trey.]

Jeff: What the … Where did everyone go!

Trey: Ha! This room is built upon a super magnetic plate deep within the earth that allows me to control your mind and force you to see things that are not actually there. The other people in the group were images that I projected into your mind. Once you entered this room you were at my mercy because even though there is a way out, I can erase it from your mind with my telepathy. So you don’t see the exit door even though it does exist in reality. Now you will remain here forever while I control your mind and have my scientist friends run experiments on you. Hahahahahahaaa!!!!!!

Jeff: That’s stupid and doesn’t really make much sense!

Trey: You want to know how it makes sense: MAGIC!!!

This play was produced by JJ Abrams and written by JJ Abrams in conjunction with George Lucas.