What I Watch: The MAD MEN Edition!

If you're a MAD-MANiac who STILL hasn't gotten around to watching the Season Six finale...first of all, what the hell is wrong with you? Secondly, don't read any further.

This will NOT be a recap of the entire episode. Not even close.  If you're craving such a thing, there's plenty of sites out there that can give you an exhaustive and entertaining rundown of every last detail. If you wanna hear some schmuck try his hand at his first ever podcast recap after just one viewing of the episode -- then you can check out my guest appearance on The Geek Girl Soup podcast.  It runs about 45 minutes and feels only slightly longer than that.

GEEK GIRL SOUP: MAD MEN SEASON SIX FINALE RECAP - IN CARE OF

Back to the blog...

From the start, MAD MEN has been tracing the opposite paths of Don Draper and Peggy Olsen. Peggy's journey has been clear, with obstacles ranging from her unacknowledged pregnancy, perpetually bad taste in men and the very challenge of being a woman in the 1960's.

  

1968 is well remembered as the year of tumultuous change and chaos in the US, and Peggy is constantly at the mercy of other forces. Unlike previous years, where she was in control of her destiny, she never gets the chance to make the choices that will guide her life.  Instead, her lot is cast by the decisions of people like Abe (he decides where they live as well as being the one to end their relationship), Don & Ted (she has no say or input in the eventual merger and the resulting consequences, and even cheating doesn't occur until Ted forces the issue).

That's why she makes that remark to Ted about "at least he gets to make decisions".  But that's her moment of freedom, and like in THE SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION, sometimes you have to swim through a river of shit to reach the promised land. The final image of Peggy, dressed like the next coming of Mary Richards as she assumes the seat and classic pose of Don Draper -- she IS the new Draper (whereas Bob Benson is Don Draper-Lite) at SC&P. I wonder if she may end up being the creative director next season, and who knows, maybe she'll hire Don to be HER secretary?

Draper's fall seems to either speed up or slow down depending on the season.  The fourth season (AKA the year Jon Hamm REALLY should have won the Emmy) was the last time I thought his life had taken such a precipitous dive, but then he's figuratively saved by clutching to a life preserver in the form of Megan.  But by the end of the following season, Don's back swimming with the sharks.  Maybe he'll see Pete's mom as he floats on by.

Season Six opens with Don reading Dante's Inferno, and as time soldiers on, we see Don IS that figure in the opening credits, plummeting to lower depths episode by episode.  His drinking has graduated to full-blown alcoholism -- remember when he would remark about Roger drinking so early in the day? Now he's fixing screwdrivers for breakfast and hiding booze in his morning coffee cup of joe.  He ends up in a drunk tank, and he even gets the shakes.  One wonders if in the final season, the man who has no friends will become a Friend of Bill W.

The visual metaphor of descending to the lower rings of hell is especially accentuated following his virtual dismissal from SC&P. We follow him as he take a slow walk DOWN THE STAIRS.  And when he runs into Duck Phillips and Lou Avery at the elevator bank, what does obnoxious Lou say?  "Going down?" I almost expected another empty elevator shaft to open in front of Don, as he tumbles to the lowest depths of hell.

Perhaps his final look at Sally, after revealing a secret about himself to the daughter who doesn't know him, is the slim strand of hope that Weiner has allowed us to have for Don. He's a man who's no longer able to charm his way into or out of any situation, and his history of lies, stolen identities and pilfered ideas has finally caught up with him. They say the truth will set you free, but is it too little too late for Don Draper?

My Final Oft-Expressed Thought:  I have NEVER been a member of the Piss-On-Pete Peeps.  Yes, over six seasons, he's had some of the most unlikable moments on the series. But in my estimation, he has not only acquitted himself,  he is one of the brightest highlights of a stellar season. Much like Betty, Pete has grown, evolved, and appears to be in a much better place in his life by season's end than ever before, even if he doesn't yet realize it himself. As Trudy points out -- he's finally FREE.

I recently wrote a brief explanation of my frequent defense of Pete Campbell. Since that e-mail only made it as far as one or two other pairs of eyes, it felt fitting to rewrite it and share that here as my closing comment:

WHY do I stick up for Pete so much? 

Because I find him more human and relatable than most other characters on this show, though I like or even love them all. It would be great to be eternally witty like Roger or effortlessly suave like Don.  

But while we all may be witty at times, no one's ALWAYS on their game like Roger.

And though we all have moments of pure persuasive charm, no one's EVER as slick as Don.

And even when I do have moments of wit or charm, it's often a facade to cover up the "inner Pete". So that's why I cringe just a little bit more when he does or says something that's damnable, and why I stick up for him more than any other member of the Mad Men family.  Sure, he's petty, vindictive, spiteful and prone to the occasional mood swing.  Guess what -- that could be my next Match.com profile. I may sometimes joke about hating myself, but I still refuse to hate Pete Campbell.

What I Watch: On the Subject of Spoilers

This goes out to both smart and silly people alike -- you truly need to get over the whole SPOILERS thing when it comes to a television show that's ALREADY AIRED. The whole concept of SPOILERS were meant to be when people find out stuff BEFOREHAND, as in BEFORE the show has been broadcast on TV. 

Once the program has aired -- if you chose to "DVR" it to watch the next day or whenever, then THE RESPONSIBILITY FALLS ON YOU to avoid news sources and especially social media sites like Facebook and Twitter.  

When the majority of viewers watch something the night it's on TV, especially a program that was highly anticipated (such as the most recent GAME OF THRONES episode, which had been talked about online for weeks ahead of time -- and amazingly SPOILER-FREE at that), expecting those folks to all adhere to an unwritten and unspoken pact to be silent because a few others were busy that night -- well, no offense, but that's really tough turkey titties for you.  

Take it from someone who's been spoiled on things far more times than he cares to recall: by and large, it's almost always your own damn fault.

Times have changed, and if old fucks like me who were able to watch TV cliffhangers unfold or be resolved before Al Gore ever invented the Internet (spoiler time -- he didn't) -- if I'M able to acclimate to the way technology has changed things, then there's really no excuse whatsoever for people that are 2/3rds or even closer to only half my age to complain. This is the world you've been brought up in. You don't even have to "get with the times" -- you're part of them.

Note: this doesn't apply to movies, as there should be a longer "grace period" than the opening weekend. Now just how long that should be, I'm not sure. I didn't see that mentioned in the invisible pact either.

AMENDMENT:

All that said, it IS a kind of a dick move to post something that's clearly a SPOILER in your Facebook Status Update.  Save it for the comments that follow.  One should avoid plot detail in the "Headline", but then say whatever heck you please in the "story".  I don't mean to undercut my own blog, but taking the devil's advocate point of view -- doing otherwise (from what I just described) seems a bit deliberately willful and petty.

So your update can simply read: "I can't get over what happened on Sport of Kings tonight".

And your subsequent posts under it can then say: "It was bad enough Lord Dinglebottom was banging that horse, but I never expected him to get a hoof straight to the gunnysack and end the episode as Lady Dickbegone." 

Arrested Development, Maybe?

Season Four of Arrested Development made its Netflix debut on Sunday, May 26th.  While I couldn't do a full binge that Sunday, by the next evening I had digested all fifteen Bluth-iful episodes.

I was seriously concerned that my already tempered expectations weren't going to be met as I waded through the first three episodes.  I was forewarned that the format was going to be unlike the first three seasons due to a number of factors, not the least of which was working within the scheduling restraints of nine main cast members as well as assorted guest stars.  Still, by the end of the 3rd episode, my faith was as fleeting as George Senior's own religious views.  

But I soldiered on, thinking at the very worst, it would still be better than Season Four of Community.

And let me tell you, I am thrilled I stuck with it.  The layer upon layer of jokes, both nods to the first three seasons as well as all-new running gags -- reminded me how satisfying it is to be able to truly laugh out loud as opposed to typing "lol".  The intricate threading of plot and surprises worked more often than not, and when I was done. my main disappointment was that there wasn't a 16th episode.

I decided not to write an overall review.  But I had to do something.  Something special.  Something different.  Something that could be embarrassing, but in the way getting up in front of a crowded room to do karaoke can be embarrassing, as opposed to having your pants fall down at the same time.

So I came up with the idea of a little "musical tribute" and try my hand once again at a song parody (I've done silly stuff like that before over the years, albeit not recently).  The only difference: this time commit it to video as opposed to an audio tape or phone call.  This from the guy who doesn't even like his picture being taken.

My original idea was more ambitious, but I eventually whittled the concept down to something more manageable, if still mildly mortifying.

The result is a video that I've finally managed to attach below. I would advise anyone who has the guts to give up 3 minutes and 13 seconds of their lives to watch it -- please be sure to click the CC (Closed Captions) button when you play the video.  That way you can follow the lyrics and learn all new words to one of the biggest ear-worming tunes of the last few years. Not sure if that's a good or bad thing...I'll let you and posterity be the judge.

PS: However, there was one BIG FAT FAIL for Season Four: NO FRANKLIN!  COME ON!

Don't Call It a Comeback, I Been Here for Years...

A close friend used to remark that I often acted as if there was a camera following me around, right down to me making sarcastic asides and raising an eyebrow Spock/Belushi-style to an imaginary fourth wall. She was right.

I was thinking about that last night, imagining my life as if it was THE TRUMAN SHOW, only significantly less pleasant.  Each year would represent a virtual TV season.  My pre-adolescence (a.k.a. the Seventies) would be a more dysfunctional version of THE WONDER YEARS, as in “I wonder how I survived those years” being the ultimate precocious smart-ass dealing with semi-hippie parents and the dissolution of their marriage.

My Eighties Era switches gears to the prototypical teen angst of a show like MY SO-CALLED LIFE, but as much as I’d like to claim kinship to either Angela or Jordan, OF COURSE I’d be Brian Krakow.  But maybe considerably more worse for wear, so mix in a little of the below-the-poverty line feel of GOOD TIMES? 

And as I fast-forward through the next twenty years, the tragic-comic moments quickly pile up like so many DVD box sets. So many stories – but all for another day.

Which brings me to the last two years.  What, you thought I’d keep up with the lame analogies for every period of my life?  Please, this is a blog, not a memoir.  But speaking of lame analogies, I got a doozy of one coming up for 2012…

Out of work for the first time in twenty-five years, I became disconnected from most of my friends and I felt vaguely disoriented on a daily basis. It was as if my own personal show-runner got canned and the TV series of my life was subsequently put on hiatus.

Thus, it was a year of tinkering and retooling, and I spent most of it working on my third screenplay: DO NOT DISTURB. When I wasn’t tapping away at the keyboard (wish it was still the typewriter era, for “pounding away” would have sounded much more visceral, albeit unintentionally sexual), I was constantly discussing the project with my friend Keith in L.A.

Acting as both my editor and conscience, Keith (or Mayhem, as I nicknamed him based on the Allstate TV spots) kept me on the right path.  Sure, I've yet to get over the fact he suggested the last line of the script five seconds before I would have come up with it myself – even as I type this, the memory still sets my teeth on edge.  Writers and their fragile fucking egos, what can I say, I’m a goddamned cliché.  Putting my pettiness aside, what’s happened over the past year is almost entirely due to his determination and perseverance.  I’m sure he’s gonna read that and smirk, as he knows I’m unlikely to ever be that gushy and nice again.  After all, I do have a rather nasty and spiteful reputation to maintain.

And then there was 2013. 

If this is the latest “TV Season of My Life” – it’s certainly been front-loaded with more than enough plot and character development than I thought my delicate flower-based system could ever handle.

I spent the first month and a half of 2013 resolving some personal issues, and while it may have been the hardest thing I've ever had to do, it was also the right thing to do. I'm happy to say it was truly all for the best, and it looks like a genuine friendship has emerged from those ashes. That pleases me to no end.

Meanwhile, news about the screenplay was starting to heat up again, as Mayhem and his fellow producer Mike (who was one of the producers of the two American versions of THE RING movies) were having meetings on a near weekly basis.  Several agencies (such as UTA, William Morris and ICM) had really liked the script and were submitting lists of possible directors. But...it was a fortuitous twist of fate that led to a copy of the script being sent to two brothers who were keen on finally collaborating on a feature film together.  Who were these cinema-loving siblings?  Tim and Jeff Cronenweth.

Tim’s been one of the leading commercial directors for a number of years.  Jeff is a two-time Oscar nominated cinematographer whose body of work includes such films as FIGHT CLUB, THE SOCIAL NETWORK, HITCHCOCK, ONE HOUR PHOTO and THE GIRL WITH THE DRAGON TATTOO.  Hell, their dad was a legendary cinematographer who shot visually stunning films like BLADE RUNNER.  It must be "in the blood".

Mayhem and Mike got word in March that the brothers wanted to have a meeting.  A few days before my birthday (which was the 23^rd for all those belated birthday card senders out there), I was told they loved the script and were on board. But, there was still the not-so small matter of actually SIGNING them. Names on a dotted line carry a fuck-ton more weight than a nod and a handshake.

In the midst of all these updates about meetings and negotiations, discussions about casting, rewrites and so on – I get a call from my old place of employment!  

Could I fill in for someone who was on medical leave? 

It was like a retired ball player being asked by his old team if he could suit up one mo' time for the stretch drive!  I agreed, not knowing a week later, I’d be juggling the responsibilities of a daily office job with the stress of working on the latest rewrite of the script.  Outside of watching GAME OF THRONES and MAD MEN on Sunday nights, I don’t think I had ever had more than an hour or two of "down time" over the final twenty days of April.

But as insane as that was, it was surpassed in sheer awesomeness (a word I saw so many times today I feel compelled to now use it myself) last night. That’s when Mayhem called to inform me that the Cronenweth Brothers were OFFICIALLY signed for the picture.

Needless to say, this is a huge step.  Not simply Bigfoot-big – we’re talking King Kong big.  The casting director is slated to be signed today as well.  Once that’s done and the latest revisions are discussed – it’s on to issues of casting and financing.  Those two subjects, plus a third -- I'm simply not at liberty to discuss in a public forum just yet.

But trust me, it's freaking Gosh-darned exciting.
Hell, it's even fucking God-damned exciting too.

So that’s my news.  That’s my life.  The idea that my name could appear on a movie screen, at the bottom of a movie poster or even a DVD sleeve – that boggles my mind.  The thought that I might record DVD commentary for a film I wrote takes that boggled mind and blows it across the wall.  And the opportunity to meet people, to get representation as well as membership in the Writers Guild, to be considered for future writing jobs in either film or television – I am both shocked and excited by such a prospect.

But it’s the fact that the next time someone asks me “what do you do” – I can honestly say “I’m a writer” – that’s truly the best part of all.

PS: Today also marks FIVE HUNDRED DAYS without a cigarette.
Add that to the list of "things I never thought I'd be celebrating".

Feels Like I'm Slipping Into The Twilight Zone...

Submitted for your consideration...

There are over 150 Twilight Zone episodes, but I've narrowed them down to the 20 that I feel are ESSENTIAL VIEWING. 

I've listed them chronologically, as I couldn't bear the thought of ranking them in preferential order (even though I have a pretty keen idea what would constitute my top three).

WHERE IS EVERYBODY?

It's the very first Twilight Zone episode, setting the standard and tone with a one-man tour-de-force performance by Earl Holliman. Older folk may remember him from the 70's cop show POLICE WOMAN (where he co-starred with Angie Dickinson). Eagle-eyed film fans will recognize the town sets that were used 25 years later when filming a little film called BACK TO THE FUTURE.

ONE FOR THE ANGELS

Amazingly, this delightful gem was the very next episode. Starring Ed Wynn (the funny floating fellow from MARY POPPINS) and Murray Hamilton (best known as the asshole from JAWS) as Death (who would be personified quite a few times in this series), it let us know that while Serling's series could thrill and chill the audience -- it could also make us smile.

TIME ENOUGH AT LAST

Possibly the most iconic episode of the series, it is the first one of several to star future Bat-Villian extraordinaire Burgess Meredith. I find it interesting to debate whether Henry Bemis truly deserves his ultimate fate or not. Either way, it's as must-see as they come.

THE MONSTERS ARE DUE ON MAPLE STREET

One of the many episodes where Serling explored social issues in the realm of science fiction. Man's fear of the unknown, the inexorably easy slide from paranoia into rampant violence that has infected society throughout the years, from the Salem Witch Trials to the era of McCarthyism.

THE AFTER HOURS

Mannequins, mannequins, mannequins. Marsha, Marsha, Marsha. Creepy, creepy, creepy.
  

A WORLD OF HIS OWN

Ed Wynn's son Keenan (among his hundreds of roles, you may recall him as the soldier who is ordered to shoot up a Coca-Cola vending machine in DR. STRANGELOVE) stars as a playwright with a unique ability to make anything he records into his dictaphone -- come to life. Without a doubt, this episode features the most amusing ending of any Twilight Zone episode.  

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER

Other than Time Enough at Last, this is the Twilight Zone episode most cite as one of the best remembered of all time. Sure, you may see the twist coming a mile away, but it's still a classic.

NICK OF TIME

William Shatner becomes obsessed with a fortune telling machine. A fantastic example of "doing a lot with a little". And rest assured, this is not the first time the Shat will appear on this list.

NIGHT OF THE MEEK

Other than classic cartoons like The Grinch, Rudolph or Charlie Brown -- this may be one of the best Christmas themed half-hours of television ever produced. Starring Art Carney (a.k.a. the beloved Ed Norton) as a department store Santa with a magic bag that just keeps on giving.

TWENTY-TWO

Room for one more, honey. When I think of Twilight Zone episodes that gave me nightmares as a child -- THIS is the first one that comes to mind. Fellow classic Sci-Fi geeks will immediately recognize the doctor as Jonathan Harris a.k.a. Dr. Zachary Smith from LOST IN SPACE.

SHADOW PLAY

Dennis Weaver (later to achieve his greatest fame as TV's McCLOUD) stars as a man who keeps living the same dream over and over and over.  Trivia time: during the sequence in VANILLA SKY when Tom Cruise is driving through an empty Times Square, I'm fairly certain Shadow Play is playing on the Jumbotron screen.

WILL THE REAL MARTIAN PLEASE STAND UP?

People stranded in a diner try to determine the title question. Known for the "double twist" ending.

A GAME OF POOL

Jack Klugman (Oscar Madison himself) in my personal favorite of his many Twilight Zone appearances.  Jonathan Winters in a rare dramatic role.  Jeez, what else do you need?

IT'S A GOOD LIFE

The actual short story by Jerome Bixby is one of the most terrifying things I've ever come across. I even read it to an ex-girlfriend as a bedtime story fifteen years ago and scared the living bejesus outta her as well. This episode is an excellent adaptation, and if I WAS to pick the best episode, you can be sure I'd be giving this one very serious consideration. It's a good episode...it's a very good episode.

ONCE UPON A TIME

Strange to find a program with that title that's actually really well written. Starring the silent screen icon Buster Keaton, it's a rare comedy gem one can find in the Twilight Zone treasure chest.

TO SERVE MAN

It would be hard to dispute TSM having the most classic Twilight Zone ending of all time. Like most other episodes, it no longer matters if you see it coming -- it's still extremely satisfying!

NIGHTMARE AT 20,000 FEET

Yes, the creature on the wing now looks rather silly, but everything else about this Richard Matheson penned episode is as high caliber as it gets. The Shat appears again in what might be his most famous screen performance that didn't involve a Starfleet uniform.

LIVING DOLL

Other than his one-time stint playing the Bond villain Blofeld, this is probably the most unlikable role Telly "Kojak" Savalas ever undertook. Many say the Devil Doll segment of THE TRILOGY OF TERROR inspired the CHUCKY movies decades later. But I say that franchise owes more to this TZ episode than anything else. "I'm Talking Tina, and I'm going to kill you…"

THE MASKS

Another big-time iconic classic.  Dying rich man leaves his greedy family their just desserts.

CAESAR AND ME

I came oh-so very close to including The Dummy (episode starring Cliff Robertson as a different ill-fated ventriloquist) on the list. However, I find this other talking dummy episode (starring Jackie Cooper) to be far more frightening and just plain nasty.


Feel free to comment about all the classics that didn't make my cut, and the truly magnificent episodes that did.

No, I'm Not? Please. Yes, You Are.

When someone insists that they're NOT something, it usually means that they are. And they usually know it too. Unless they're just dumb -- but we'll get to that in a second...

"I wouldn't lie to you." That really means "Not only would I ABSOLUTELY lie to you, I'm doing it right fucking now, moron."

"It's not you, it's me." Clearly, this translates to "Of COURSE it's you -- and if you were someone else, we wouldn't even be having this conversation."

"I could never do/say such a thing." Yes, you could. Yes, you did. And yes, you will again. Once the word "never" gets tossed into the mix -- then all bets are off. Nothing is never, trust me.

"...doesn't mean I'm dumb/doesn't make me dumb." Guess what? More often than not, it DOES. Maybe you're not all that savvy, street smart or book smart; maybe you lack sufficient intellectual depth to see beyond the surface; maybe you lack a certain amount of sophistication. Or...the most likely "maybe" of all: maybe you ARE dumb. Is it less or more shameful NOT to realize this basic truth? I'm not sure. But it's alternately entertaining or aggravating for everyone else who's being subjected to such idiocy.

Thus endeth my mini blog-riff-rant. I'd like to say I'll never post something like this again, but we all know I'd be lying...

The Greatest Blog Sequel Ever Written This Afternoon: TV Finale Demolition Derby Mash Up!

Several weeks ago, I churned out a two-part blog in which I spewed my opinions on the best and worst TV series finales of all time. Today I cough up a most ridiculous follow-up.  

What if...one took two different final episodes and fused them together?  

Would one end up with an offspring as creepy as the kid from Deliverance, as psychotic as King Joffrey or as disfigured as John Merrick?

Or would the final finale result inspire wide-eyed looks of wonder and murmurs of "It's beautiful" until all of our faces started melting? The possibilities are endless, which must be slightly ironic, since these are shows dealing with "the end". Wait, got a call coming in from Alanis Morissette. No, not even she would say that's in any way ironic. Oh Alanis, you're always the black fly in my Chardonnay.

Digression completed.  Demolition Derby about to commence.

In the words of a certain wascally wabbit: "On with the show, this is it!"

CHEERS drunkenly collides with SIX FEET UNDER

After Sam Malone waves off a prospective customer with a simple "We're closed", he steps behind the bar. With a wistful smile, Sam wipes the spots where Norm and Cliff's beers often sit. He reaches underneath the bar and brings out an old shoebox, popping open the lid to gaze upon some old treasures. His first game ball, every Sam Malone baseball card...even his lucky bottle cap.

The scene dissolves with Sam exiting the bar and getting behind the wheel of his often talked about but never seen Corvette. He takes off down the road.  We JUMP CUT to Sam zooming down the highway as the sun comes up. As we watch him drive with that same peaceful expression, we intercut to several gauzily shot final moments:

Two Weeks Later: Cliff is running for his life from several snarling dogs. He bolts into the street, turning around just in time to be pulverized by a beer truck.

Four Years Later: Carla storms the ice during a Boston Bruins game. She takes out three players before she gets smacked upside the head with a hockey stick. She's dead before her frizzy mopped head hits the ice.

Seven Years Later: Doritos are strewn everywhere, and a multitude of cats are walking across a body in a bathrobe. A rather obese body.  But when we finally see the face...it's not Norm, it's Rebecca, and her lifeless face is blue except for her Dorito dust-encrusted lips.

Fifteen Years Later: Norm does a face plant right into a bowl of beer nuts.  He's resuscitated, takes one last swig of beer, and then dies.

Nineteen Years Later: Governor Woody Boyd accidentally steps off a helicopter in mid-air.  

Thirty Years Later: Head bowed, several scantily clad bimbos sob as one pulls the plus on the machines keeping the geriatric Sam Malone alive. But in the last fleeting moment of life in his eyes, it's the same zen-like acceptance that we see--

--as we cut back to Sam rolling the top down.  He hits the gas as the Corvette speeds off into the ever-brightening horizon.

THE SOPRANOS loses control and slams into NEWHART

It's the final moment in the diner again. "Don't Stop Believing" is playing on the juke box as Tony, Anthony and Carmela are perusing the menu waiting for Meadow to arrive.  She finally parks and makes her way across the street--

SMASH CUT TO BLACK  

One second...five seconds...ten seconds.  And then we hear Edie Falco's voice: "What the fuck?"

A light is turned on, and we see Edie Falco waking up in a room lined with shelves chock full of prescription drugs.  She's under a sheet, sharing a small cot with another man, and when we initially see him, we think it's Carmela's old crush Father Phil.  

But it's not.  

It's Eddie the pharmacist -- and it's not Carmela...it's NURSE JACKIE.

"Fuck Eddie, I had the strangest dream.  I was one of those Mob Wives living out in New Jersey."

"And was I your Don?"

"No, you were some fucking priest."

"Jackie, I think it's time to go into rehab again."

"Yeah...you're probably right.  You know Eddie...you should wear more white collared shirts."

LOST goes into a tailspin and crashes into M*A*S*H

Kate doesn't want to leave Jack, whose life is slowly ebbing away as it bleeds out of his gut. "No, you have to go back, Kate! You have to go back!"  He looks at Sawyer -- "You get her on that plane. You get her on that plane and get her BACK!" 

Sawyer grabs Kate by the arm, dragging her away from Jack.  

"Don't worry. When you're up there, look to the west. I left you both something."  

As the dramatic score builds, quick shots of Kate and Sawyer boarding the plane with Desmond, Frank and Claire are INTERCUT with shots of Jack staggering through the jungle and the reeds. The plane takes off as Jack falls to the ground, and it's the very same spot he awoke from the Oceanic 815 plane crash.

On the plane, although Sawyer and Kate are seat-belted in, they're craning their necks to look out the window. What could Jack have left them? Sawyer's eyes light up. "There!  There it is!"

On the beach, they see the word "NAMASTE" written out in 20 foot letters made out of black stones...the same rocks Bernard tried to create an SOS message with so long ago.

Kate chokes back a tear, "Oh Jack..."  Both she and Sawyer share a smile, until Sawyer points at the window again.  "Wait, what about THAT?"

Several yards away, the numbers 4, 8, 15, 16, 23 and 42 are spelled out with those same black stones.  With a look of growing terror, Kate exclaims, "No, maybe THAT's what he meant!"

Across the same white sandy beach, more black rocks spell out the question: 

"Who is Number One?"

"Son-of-a-bitch!  Look at THAT!"  Further up the shoreline, the words "Where's Annie?" are laid out in volcanic rock.

Sawyer and Kate look at each other again, but instead of sharing a smile, it's a look of utter confusion and dread.  

CUT to Jack with a knowing smirk on his face as he watches the plane pass by overhead.  As Vincent the dog lays beside him, he sputters his final words: "Now, you people really got some unsolved mysteries to bitch about..."  

The "Suicide is Painless" theme music from M*A*S*H plays as Jack's eyes close.  THE END???