But with all of the talk these days about what Lost means, and whether the finale will deliver some cosmically awesome wrap-up of answers to fans, it seems only appropriate to weigh in. Not on the whole season. Not on all the meaning.  Just to say a word about what the writers do or do not “owe” us.

I think Jason Mittel gets the closest to expressing how I feel about answers on Lost, in dividing his questions into Outriggers, Mechanicals,  Mythologies, and Plots.  The first we can fill in the gaps for ourselves. The second are really, at the end of the day, not important to our fundamental understanding of the narrative, particularly given that this is a SciFi/Fantasy gambit.  The third and the fourth are more “important,” but only in so far as they explain why things happened on the show the way they did.  He points to what are probably my most hankering questions: what on earth happened with the original Incident in 1977?  And how did Jughead blowing up create the Sideways world? And what about the Island being underwater? I’m paraphrasing here, and imbuing some of my own questions into Mittel’s, but ultimately I feel that without giving us some form of an answer to these questions we are being denied crucial plot points.

However…when I think about the outrigger mystery that inspired the “Outrigger” category of questions, I wonder if I’m barking up the wrong tree.  The reason the outrigger mystery (reminder: while traveling through time in Season 4, Sawyer, Juliet, and co. hopped into an outrigger at the Losties deteriorating beach camp; as they paddled on the sea, a second outrigger, that had been parked at the Losties’ beach camp as well, approached and a gunfight ensued; Juliet shot someone on the second outrigger, and then time shifted; we were never shown who was in that second outrigger, though we determined that the gunfight had taken place in 2007) was so important to fans was because we felt that someone of importance to our narrative on the second outrigger was shot by Juliet.  Damon and Carlton have made clear that they did not feel it was necessary to “close the loop” on this, even though they know who was on the second outrigger. Though irritated at first, I recognize that if the writers and producers of the show don’t feel it’s important to reveal something to us, than it is simply not important.  It doesn’t matter at all who was on that second boat, even if someone was shot, because it has no relevance to our narrative.

Similarly, while at this moment in time I feel it is extremely important that we receive an explanation of how the original Incident played out versus the Jughead Incident (and what happened to the Island in the aftermath of both versions), if, by the end of the series on Sunday night, this isn’t revealed to me, I’ve, in a sense, received an answer: it has no relevance to our narrative.

In the same vein, if we receive no more information about Eloise Hawking and Charles Widmore and their motives, how can I be mad? It’s not as if these characters did anything that our writers and producers cannot account for — they exist in the heads of our writers and producers! Their motivations and desires and storylines were laid out for us as much as necessary in order to understand their part in this particular story, as told by our writers and producers.

Which is all to say: I guess I’m beginning to understand why I am satisfied by the answers we’ve gotten when others are not. I’m not here for every bit of the narrative to be fleshed out — only so far as the story is told.  I may wish we knew more about this or that, but I care much, much more about how this all boils down to a satisfying ending for our characters. I have watched this for all these years to see if Damon and Carlton could tell me something about the meaning of the universe, through the allegory of the Island. I’ve watched so they could tell me a story. About people.

I think James Poniewozik has it pretty right, when he defends the right of TPTB to tell the story they want to tell, even if some fans think they are being “arrogant.”  They aren’t telling us the story we want; and if we want to try our hand out writing a “better” story, we’re certainly welcome to. Lord knows there are scary places on the internet where fan fiction flourishes.

But I don’t want to give the impression that I’ve decided we won’t get any answers.  While I don’t think I’ll be mad if answers don’t come in the form I am hoping for, I also think it’s premature — and sad — to lose faith that our writers and producers won’t produce answers.  TPTB have, at times, done a masterful job of closing loops and answering questions.  Remember how bewildered we all were by Richard’s visiting a time-shifting Locke and giving him the instructions about having to die?  That mystery was solved, in a terribly satisfying way.  How we didn’t understand Richard’s visit to Locke as a child? Again, solved beautifully — and not for another two seasons!

In the same way, I expect that we will get more information about what sort of game Eloise was playing throughout the series, and whether she was working with the MIB (or merely being utilized unknowingly).  And whatever happens, I believe we will feel satisfied.  Because we are only being told what we need to be told by those doing the telling. Not more, not less.

All of this said, though, I reserve the right to be disappointed on Sunday night. But I don’t expect that will be the case.

Like this theoconservative take on why the proposed Ugandan law to execute gay people is horrible and indefensible, from a Catholic perspective.  The author of the piece later responded to one of the many commenters who said he has a friend that defends slavery because the Bible says slavery is okay. Woah. Who knew, as Baumann points out, there were still people trying to make such arguments?  Haven’t we gotten to a point in time when polite company doesn’t question the idea that slavery is horrible?

The passage where Baumann really struck me is this:

It’s all well and good, I suppose, to offer lengthy attacks on the Ugandan law. But at this point in human history, given the experience of the twentieth century, some things should really be part of a broad moral consensus. The immorality of slavery or of executing minorities shouldn’t really require long arguments.

I suspect this is why it’s been hard for Sullivan to find examples of the National Review or the Weekly Standard or the American Conservative or Commentary denouncing the Ugandan law. The writers at those magazines may disagree with Sullivan on a lot of things, but I suspect they think it’s pretty obvious to most Americans that executing gay people is wrong. The problem for conservatives is that it’s inconvenient for them to defend any sort of gay rights—even the right not to be executed—because doing so brings up awkward questions about why conservatives want to deny other rights to gay people.

I don’t think I’d thought of it in those terms before, but of course that’s write. And that’s why, on the one hand, we owe our intellectual and political opponents deference when it comes to issues of this kind, but on the other, we should continue to press them in the direction of letting of their false logic when it comes to the rights of, among others, gay people.  Just as that justice of the peace in Louisiana (who didn’t want to marry a black and a white person) was roundly denounced for his antiquated views, perhaps one day some of these same conservative writers will no longer feel comfortable, or believe in the necessity of, writing about why gay people shouldn’t get married.

[Via.]

However, I will point out the bizarre obsession many conservative pundits have with trying to analyze why Republican politicians are hated or merely disliked by large swaths of the population.  There seems to be a trend in which someone will finally, finally!, pull back the curtain on why Sarah Palin, for example, remains deeply unpopular with a large portion of the American people. And as if one might be able to use the force to change those minds.

I know it’s hard sometimes to understand how other people don’t feel the same way you do about something, as when Dave and I and our friends in DC were certain that Obama should win the Democratic nomination, and yet 17 million plus people had their hopes hung on Hillary. That was frustrating.  But I also understood that there are natural impulses and beliefs that folks have, and sometimes those just have to play out.

So, why do so many people dislike Sarah Palin? Jews or otherwise? Because she’s a conservative, and no more than 50% + 1 of the country’s citizens are conservatives too.  And because after eight years of George W. Bush appealing to the uneducated masses, it seems more folks have gotten wise to the idea that we might want our president to be more than an average person (even if she has the unique (!) qualification of also having raised children) but the smartest most analytical person available for the job.

There’s no mystery there at all.

The whole piece is worth a read.  I had always wondered why Chase (my bank) only gives you reward points when you sign for a purchase made on your debit card.  It’s so much easier to use your PIN, and, after all, isn’t the point of debit to “debit” your account rather than use “credit”?  Now I feel stuck between a rock and a hard place — on the one hand I like getting those points (they really do add up) but on the other I didn’t like knowing, when I went to the grocery store yesterday, that Kroger was going to pay more for that purchase because I signed for it.

The Times article suggests that the Justice Department (i.e. the Antitrust Division) is looking into the matter.  My sense is that something will happen, not least of all because the Division leaned pretty heavily on credit card companies for schemes like this even during the Bush years.  In 2008, for example, even before the case got to any kind of settlement phase, the Division got the major credit card companies to stop making stores treat debit cards differently from credit cards.  There was simply talk of going after them for that transgression (obviously some extensive talk) and the companies chose to ease their restrictions.

This seems like a similar case, treating one kind of transaction differently than another, even though they are essentially doing the same thing.  Particularly now that the Times has shed light on the practice, I assume the credit card companies will either change their practices or enter into a settlement agreement with the DOJ about how to change them.

Just assumptions.  But I hope I’m right. This really is an abhorrent practice.

We should expect — and in fact need — those of opposing view points in the world.  The problem is, the vast majority of conservatives airing their thoughts today are hardly worthy of the term.  Their airheads. They’re not part of a loyal opposition. Like Jonah Goldberg.  Who is so confused that he thinks Bob Shrum is a great liberal pundit.

Bob Shrum has been around the Democratic block. That much is true.   But come on.  The guy is the least successful prime-time Dem in the country! He’s literally helped to run the campaigns of all of the Democratic Party’s greatest losers! I wouldn’t go to Bob Shrum if I needed advice on what to buy for my cat this Christmas.  As Friedersdorf says in rebuttal (not to this point, but to Goldberg’s assertion that the Week publishes “weak” — read not crazy tea partiers/Sarah Palin fans — conservatives next to “strong” liberals, but on point nonetheless):

Perhaps Mr. Goldberg’s post was actually a call for The Week to keep on David Frum, Will Wilkinson, and Daniel Larison, and to pair them with more intellectually honest folks from the left — let them square off against Kevin Drum, Brad Plumber and Kerry Howley. I’d certainly welcome the change, since I am ultimately interested in good journalism and a robust public discourse than short term partisan advantages, but it sure seems like Mr. Goldberg was bemoaning the absence of a right-wing version of Bob Shrum.

Which is precisely the idea that is frequently discussed in the liberal blogosphere.  There are so many great liberal minds out there — Bob Shrum is not one of them.  If there is to be a good political conversation going on in this country, it should be one between the likes of David Frum and Kevin Drum*, not between Bill Kristol and Tom Friedman.

*Wow. Shrum, Frum, and Drum. How weird.

“There is a great song called ‘Coca Cola Cowboy’ and I believe that’s what we have here. She was a Republican as long as it enhanced her electability,” said Armey, reached while petting a goat at his Texas ranch. “My guess is she made a deal with Chuck Schumer or the White House that will eventually show itself to us.”

Petting a goat? Did he tell the reporter that? “I’m petting a goat on my ranch right now, but sure, I’ll chat.”

Reading this Atlantic Food piece about Andechs is sort of tortuous, because I’m not sure when I’ll be able to make it back there, but it’s also make me feel humble and happy that I’ve been able to experience Andechs twice.

“How can the MSM (what’s left of it) not “get” that disappointment in Obama over “lack of change” is precisely the object of the GOP in blocking change?  Does no one remember Newt Gingrich and the GOP strategy from 1992 to 1994, which actually worked?  How can the GOP steal second and third in one play AGAIN and not get nailed this time?  I want to scream.  In any sensible society, instead of disappointment in Obama there would be intense anger at the GOP, and they’d be forced to knock it off.”

Watching the Ed Show on MSNBC last night made me want to pull my hair out.  Ed and Roy Sekoff (HuffPo editor), both of whom I generally agree with, were going on and on about Obama’s broken promises.  I’m willing to admit that Obama has been less forceful in pushing some of the issues I care a lot about (notably the repeal of Don’t Ask Don’t Tell), and I believe it’s extremely important that we have folks like Ed Schultz and the Arianna Huffington-editorial express out there continuing to press the administration further left.

But you simply cannot discuss what Obama has “failed to accomplish,” without understanding how much that failure has been dependent on the ability of congressional Republicans to stall small parts of the Democratic agenda.  Those small stalls add up — to something far larger.  Obama promised a more efficient, better run bureaucracy than Bush. Hard to accomplish that when Senate Republicans put anonymous holds on administration appointees for bogus reasons.  Obama promised healthcare reform by the August recess.  Republicans kept promising they would work with Democrats to create a bipartisan bill.  No dice.  The bill gets postponed.   Obama promises a crazy good climate change bill.  Some Republicans in the Senate hop on and promise to vote for it, thus assuring it will clear the 60 votes necessary for cloture, but only if it’s substantially weakened. Republicans, in general, say no to everything Obama wants, pulling a few centrist Dems along with them, undermining any and every policy initiative at the risk of looking like naysayers.

There are many, many more examples.  The Senate is primed to stymie change, to let the minority make the best of the majority they must work with.  That in and of itself is bad enough.  But when the members of the minority are hell-bent on doing everything they can to not work with the majority, indeed to take down all of its policy proposals, it’s kind of hard to look as if you’re fulfilling any of the presidential campaign promises you made.  And it’s easy for the Republicans to run two years later on a platform of “Obama didn’t do anything,” aided by the media’s continued assertions that he failed to come through on any of this big ticket items.

If it were simply a matter of Obama and Democrats in Congress having the willpower, we would all be living in a larger version of Norway.  But we’ve got the GOP wielding a ridiculous degree of structural power, assisted all the way there by very-centrist Democrats and the so-called liberal media.

Marzorati blogged the following about the essence and ideology of the NYTM:

Call it Urban Modern. That is, I think it reflects not a left-or-right POLITICAL ideology but a geographical one, the mentality of the place [sic] it is created: 21st Century Manhattan. So: the Magazine reflects a place where women have professional ambition, where immigrants are welcome, and where gays and lesbians can be themselves (if not marry, yet). The Magazine also reflects a place where being rich is not a bad thing, where fashion is not a sign of superficiality, and where individualism is embraced. Here, arguing is not bad manners. Here, a chief way of loving your hometown is criticizing it: For, say, not doing enough for those (children, the poor, the homeless) who are most vulnerable. Here, art is never spoken of in moral terms, and most aspects of everyday life–food and drink and bathroom fixtures–are mostly spoken of in aesthetic terms. And here, as E.B. White famously wrote, it tends to be those who come from elsewhere full of longing who make the place what it is. More generally, we reflect a place where change is not a threat, where doubt and complexity are more TRUE than certainty, and where most everything non-criminal is tolerated–except a bad haircut.

Weiseltier does a fine job of calling out all of the idiocy in that description.  There’s no ideology there, no real call to disagree and fight back against the world.  Just this happy-go-lucky idea of 21st century Manhattan, bathed in ethereal light.  I won’t repeat all of those apt criticisms; read them for yourself.

What struck about Marzorati’s concept was how very, very boring it is.  Listen, I have no problem with Manhattan per se.  I’ve got loads of friends and family who grew up there or are living their currently.  I’m grateful for having spent so much time there, eating a wonderful restaurants, seeing shows, enjoying the landscape, etc.  But I would never, in a million years, want to spend a lifetime in New York City.  And that is said knowing full well that my intellectual brethren live there, at least more than they live in rural Ohio.  I would be thrilled to eat lox, great Italian, and Chinese everyday for the rest of my life — I would be even more thrilled to know that I never had to deal with another ignorant, redneck, right-wing conservative again.

But I wouldn’t do it, even for those benefits.  Because New York is insufferable.  It’s full of people who feel compelled to say things like this:

where women have professional ambition, where immigrants are welcome, and where gays and lesbians can be themselves (if not marry, yet). The Magazine also reflects a place where being rich is not a bad thing, where fashion is not a sign of superficiality, and where individualism is embraced. Here, arguing is not bad manners. Here, a chief way of loving your hometown is criticizing it…

Oh please.  As if Manhattan is the only place in the world where women have professional ambition and gays and lesbians can be themselves.  Is being rich a bad thing elsewhere (or, as Wiestelier pointed out, is being poor a bad thing in New York City)?  Everywhere but New York City?

The tone is so irritatingly cliche I could kill myself.  You are so unique, New Yorkers! You charming folks who understand fashion and wealth and individualism — even while being boiled down to little more than a collective mass of folks who understand fashion, wealth and individualism.  It sure is a good thing you have the NYTM to read every Sunday, speaking to your sensibilities and needs.

I get that Marzorati was being tongue-in-cheek.  His final line about New Yorkers tolerating everything but a bad haircut proves it.  But he nonetheless manages to encapsulate everything I disdain about the New York attitude, right down to that holier-than-thou mindset.  Maybe it’s the new-Midwesterner in me.  I don’t know.  But I was glad to see a little comeuppance thrown his way.