Musing about LOST: "Everybody Loves Hugo" and "The Last Recruit"

My favorite parts of last week’s “Everybody Loves Hugo” surprised and bothered me. I was surprised (and pleased) to find out the the Whispers are the spirits who can’t move on—Michael included. Because redemption is such a big theme on LOST, seeing what happens to those who didn’t find redemption in the last life (and who apparently can’t be helped by the living, although they can try to make amends to those left behind) is another interesting tidbit to file away. Is the island really hell in an increasingly thin disguise? Is it the spiritual tipping point of the universe—offering redemption (and often death) to those who want to change their life paths but offering temptation and torment to those who succumb to their desire for power and greed?

I also liked the fact that Hurley is better off “crazy”—because then he can see the truth of the afterlife (and does so much better spiritually and mentally when he accepts that he can talk with the dead). He also finds love with another crazy person who sees the truth—Libby. Although the Libby-Hurley reunion wasn’t as crazy good as I’d hoped, I’m still glad they got to go on a beach picnic.

Once again in this episode, as Des discovered in the previous one, love leads the way to truth (and potentially sacrifice). Add Hurley to the growing list (Charlie, Daniel, Desmond) who finally realize that unconditional love, even if it remains unrequited, is the Meaning of Life. (How interesting that Desmond is #42 in line at Mr. Cluck’s.)

Speaking of Desmond, why is he suddenly channeling his inner Jacob and visiting his fellow passengers from Oceanic 815? I really hope he wasn’t the car behind Nadia’s demise in the original timeline. Being “touched by a Jacob” seems ominous enough, but being “touched by a Des”—or his front bumper—falls into a whole other category. The irony (karma?) of the parallel between fLocke dumping Des down a well and AltDes thumping Locke intrigues me.

Des' trend of mysteriously touching the lives of Oceanic 815 passengers continues in "The Last Recruit." He brings together Claire, Jack, and David; links patient Locke with surgeon Jack (because their first attempt at bonding over surgery didn't work); and further connects the dots between Sawyer and Kate, Miles and Nadia, and Sayid and Sawyer. One of LOST's running themes involves the interconnectedness of the castaways' lives, a mysterious Six Degrees of Separation, island-style. In this week's episode, that theme firmly knots the lifelines of almost everyone in the episode. For example, on the way to surgery, David and Jack walk past the room where Sun, accompanied by Jin, is recovering, and, a few steps away, Locke awaits surgery. Oh, what a tangled web they weave.

But back to last week's episode. My big disappointment with the final Hurley-centric story isn’t even Hurley’s cynicism as an always-wealthy entrepreneur. It makes sense that he would do good works with his wealth, even if he also realizes that money can buy him pretty much anything but love. (I even liked the Jurassic Park award he receives from Marvin Candle—Regis Philbin was finally right—there IS a dinosaur in the story!) My problem deals with what I fear may be another irony—the kindest, gentlest Everyman, Hurley, may inadvertently lead to the original castaways’ final destruction. By walking into fLocke’s camp, he brings together the missing pieces of MIB’s puzzle—and provides a possible way to get off the island. No matter that Hurley destroys the Black Rock’s dynamite (and someone should’ve told Ilana the Legend of the Lost Arzt). In my game plan, Hurley is the hero. I hope Darlton is following the same playbook.

But that commentary is so last week. The highlights of “The Last Recruit” continue the buildup leading to all the pieces falling into place, a series of small events beginning with the destruction of the Temple and exodus of fLocke’s people. Everything is leading to the final confrontation, and with only a few weeks to go, the final battle is about to begin.

In the “interesting phraseology” category this week, Jack tells fLocke, “I don’t know what the hell you are.” Prophetic or merely colloquial? Their discussion reveals another answer to a big question. MIB can only “become” someone once that person is dead--hence, the ironic choice of true believer John Locke and the pragmatic embodiment of Christian Shephard as two of MIB's most fortuitous guises.

By the end of the episode, the epic battle between (f)Locke and Jack seems to be ready to continue, only Jack has become the Man of Faith believing in the need to stay on the island. He wonders what will happen if everyone leaves—perhaps fLocke knows that there really is a purpose for the Candidates to remain on the island. fLocke’s chilling words—“You’re with me now”—portend at least one more battle before the Jack-Locke relationship, in all its many permutations across six seasons, is finally ended.

This episode and the previous one set up the players into different camps and allow characters to make amends for their past actions. Jack apologizes to Sawyer for Juliet’s death. Kate refuses to leave Claire behind and vows to reunite mother and child. Sun and Jin are reunited, proclaim their love, and vow to stay together always, even if the "'til death" part seems likely sooner rather than later.

Predictably, and in line with recent love-ins, Sun regains her voice when she’s back with Jin. Their reunion provides yet another mirror scene, this time of their previous reunion after Jin's short-lived raft adventure and run-in with the Tailies. In a way, tonight's reunion is almost a funny scene for its predictable romance. Jin and Sun are so wrapped up in each other--as the camera pans from smiling Frank to smiling Hurley to smiling Kate to scowling Sawyer (can't win them all)--that they fail to notice Zoe and Company pointing rifles at everyone. The lovebirds are the last to realize that, once again, their lives are in jeopardy. When Jin and Sun thought about getting down on the beach, they probably hadn't expected to be at gunpoint.

In LOST terms, the black and white chess pieces have been moved into place, and the strategy behind the ultimate game is slowly being revealed. Although Widmore seems to be a player, I can’t help but feel he’s yet another pawn. And for all that fLocke’s people wear grays and blacks (appropriate for followers of the Man in Black), I wonder if they are going to be the good guys in a little over a month.

LOST: Happily Ever After

Confusing, uplifting, heartbreaking, illusory—so many possible labels for this fairy tale, but then, fairy tales are supposed to be outside the realm of reality.


I’ve been remiss with spoilers, so I’ll apologize if I inadvertently indicated plot or character twists in my Facebook post today. I’ll reiterate that all of my blogs about LOST, posted any time from a few minutes to 24 hours after East Coast US broadcast, will definitely spoil you if you haven’t seen the latest episode. Please read at your own risk.


What happens when what seems to be the proverbial happy ending really just stunts our emotional or spiritual growth? How can a less than happy ending logically be the best thing for us? And what four-letter word turns out to be the meaning of life? LOST tackles these issues from the perspectives of three of my favorite men: Charlie, Desmond, and Daniel.

This episode also scored well on the List of LOST Trademarks: symbolic names, frequently representing philosophers or scientists; repeated symbols or icons, including bunnies, keys, and eyes; repeated or mirrored scenes or dialogue; repeated themes. So, among the fun tidbits for the faithful, “Happily Ever After” provides us with

• Science-related names Minkowski (now Widmore’s driver) and Angstrom (the bunny), but Faraday and Hawking are now Widmores

• Humanities-related names Hume and Milton (Penny’s apparent flashsideways surname)—so many metaphors, so little time

These names also reflect the ongoing LOST thematic battle between Men of Science and Men of Faith in determining how to approach life. Dan clearly isn’t a man of science in the flashsideways, but even as a musician (although music still is a highly technical specialization) he takes a scientific approach to deciphering the nature of love and the possibility of more than one timeline. In this episode, despite all the science, the battle convincingly swings toward faith. We might not be able to prove it empirically, but we believe certain “truths.” Hold that thought for a moment.

• Repeated images of a bunny, a request for Des to hand over any keys or other metal before (in a mirrored scene) entering the electromagnetic field or undergoing an MRI, and emphases yet again on eyes (three times on Des’ peepers in this episode) to frame the story from his perspective in different timelines

• Several mirrored scenes from Desmond’s backstories, some going as far back as Season 2: Des wasn’t kidding when he told Jack in that fateful stadium “See you in another life.” This time, however, he has a happier run-in with Penny. And isn’t it nice to see the guy swoon at love at first sight? Another mirror shows us what the Desmond-Charles dynamic can be if Widmore considers Des a son instead of a son-in-law. That bottle of finely aged Scotch (sorry, whisky) is an appropriate measure of the wealthy Scot’s level of approval.

Still difficult for me not to obsess over the mirrored Not Penny’s Boat scene; it was powerful, symbolic, and confounding all at the same time.


Now back to those repeated themes: Love and Sacrifice.

My deepest regret about LOST has been its treatment of love, especially unrequited love. I wish LOST would requite a lot more often. That’s particularly true of couples Charlie and Claire, Daniel and Charlotte, and Desmond and Penny, although at least they enjoyed smooth sailing for awhile. “Happily Ever After” changed my mind about LOST loves.

How remarkable that Charlie, during an NDE on Oceanic 815, understands what it would be like to love and be loved by Claire, and how love would make life worth living (even if that life is shorter than I would’ve liked).

How symbolic that Des’ “transition” from the island’s test room to the flashsideways world is blue sky and puffy clouds, a stereotypical visual of heaven, but his idea of heaven on earth is only realized in one timeline.

How touching that Dan immediately recognizes Charlotte (and her love of chocolate).

How prophetic that sacrifice is required for LOST’s greatest love stories. Widmore’s comments to Desmond that “The island isn’t finished with you yet” and “I’ll ask you to make a sacrifice” are the most haunting words yet—at least to Desmond/Penny fans.

Charlie seems remarkably wise and certain about the nature of life and love. This characterization leads to my big conundrum with this episode: Is Charlie a live junkie getting along miraculously in hospitals and jails without his stash? Should I assume he’s receiving off-camera care? Once he crosses over—the street—he seems remarkably unconcerned about death but focused in his role as a spiritual guide, not unlike the post-death Charlie who visited Hurley with a message. He also seems to appear just when Des needs him, but other people, including hospital staff, are remarkably cavalier about his disappearance. Am I reading too much into Charlie’s second voyage to the bottom of the sea? Send me your interpretations! Or post them at the blog instead of on Facebook!

Despite all the ways that these love stories are never likely to achieve a happily ever after, that doesn’t make them any less moving or memorable. “None of this matters. What matters is that we’ve felt it.” I agree with you, oh wise Charlie, whose dialogue summarizes LOST’s significance to me as a story for all time: “Just for a moment I saw what [love] looked like…I’ve seen something real. I’ve seen the truth.” So, George Minkowski, did I find what I was looking for? Yes. And it doesn’t matter so much about that happily ever after, after all.

LOST: The Package

Sun shines. Although nothing could match last week’s stellar epic episode, “The Package” packed enough surprises to keep me hooked through the entire hour. Even when I was busy reading subtitles, Yunjin Kim’s inflection and commanding presence, whether she shouts angrily or coos seductively, let me know exactly what Sun has on her mind in each scene.

My predominant images of Sun from the very early episodes come from scenes in which she plants a garden—a creative and practical outlet for the nurturing side she doesn’t seem to let loose very often—or in which she and Jin become preoccupied with a tiny sweater button. That these images factor heavily in this episode is yet another tribute to LOST’s writers, who can take the simplest image (not to mention the big “meaning of life” ones) and create a metaphor for a life or a relationship. When Sun reveals herself, through an outburst in the garden or the removal of that primly buttoned top, she is surprisingly passionate. In “The Package,” perhaps for the last time, we see why Sun is the perfect metaphorical name for this character. She can scorch enemies or warm the coldest heart with a single look.

The Garden provides another Biblical allusion, even if Jack offers Sun a “love apple” (i.e., tomato) instead of the standard apple-as-symbol-of-knowledge. In the beginning, of Sun’s island life at least, she carefully plants seeds of hope as well as trees. Just as her relationship with Jin flourishes in the least likely of places, so does the garden symbolically grow, resulting at last in a child—and I loved the moment when Jin finally sees his daughter through the eye of a camera. When Sun returns to the island and tries to find solace in her garden, the one place that was truly hers in that long-ago post-crash, pre-separation era, it’s overrun with weeds. Clearly, Jin’s and Sun’s relationship—as well as her own off-island life—needs some careful tending. Sun, however, doesn’t see that hopeful little tomato that Jack later brings to her. I can only hope that, like the metaphorical tomato, Sun survives under the harshest conditions.

I’m a bit concerned, though, because of her bloody hands in this episode. She slices a finger, the blood obvious, when Locke appears to tempt her from the garden with knowledge of Jin’s whereabouts. She refuses to take his hand (but, in a mirror scene with Jack, does accept his after he also promises to reunite her with Jin). In the flashsideways, the last image of Sun being carried off emphasizes her bloody hand. Sun is hardly innocent of deception; after all, she is her father’s daughter. Her hands are bloodied to some extent in every timeline, but I still hope she and Jin can save each other.

I liked the way that more pieces of the big puzzle are neatly slotting into place. Picking up the restaurant scene from Sayid’s flashsideways and presenting more of that day from Sun’s and Jin’s perspectives illustrate another aspect of LOST’s creative storytelling and tight writing. I hated grenade-pulling Mikhail but rather enjoyed his return as a mercenary interpreter.

My real sorrow comes not only with the realization that yet another episode is LOST, even though more puzzle pieces are found, but from the implications of Desmond’s re-introduction to the story. Although Widmore clearly states that “the package” is a person, not a thing, Desmond is still objectified (and not in a sexy, let’s-see-him-nakey-in-the-jungle way). He’s both a constant and a package, perhaps the proverbial key to unlocking the way to overthrow Locke.

When last night’s preview offered us images of Des, the soundtrack went all Scottish with a pipe rendition of what most people call “Amazing Grace.” (How fitting for me that, come this Easter, I’ll be listening to yet another piper playing that song on a beach at sunrise. Resurrection and redemption from one beach to another….but I digress.) Willie Nelson’s plaintive “I once was lost, but now I’m found” from much earlier season promos is echoed in last night’s song for one of my favorite Scots. Let the war begin, even as I fear to see the casualties. Come on, Darlton. If Sun and Jin can’t have a happy ending—and I really don’t care all that much about that old triangle—please reunite Penny and Desmond so they can sail off into the sunset.

LOST: Ab Aeterno

The devil is in the details. So much detail, so many symbols and resonances with literature and past episodes. So much mythology crammed into one episode.

I’ve toyed with several plays on words when thinking about “Ab Aeterno” in the past twelve hours: The eyes have it (because so many lines of dialogue, as well as close-ups of characters’ eyes, e.g., Richard’s, Ilana’s, were featured in the episode); the lesser of two evils (Jacob or MIB? fLocke or Widmore?), as well as the cliché I went with. Perhaps I liked this episode so much because it isn’t clichéd or easily summarized with a sound byte. And in depicting the struggle between Good and Evil, it’s refreshing to see a television episode that confounds black or white interpretations, while giving us obvious oppositional symbols (keys and chains, white rock or Black Rock, white or black shirts).

What I find most hopeful about this episode is that Everyman Hurley, already portrayed as a Biblical prophet in Charlie’s vision (“Fire + Water”), fulfills that role in person. He comes to Richard, Jacob’s representative on the island (metaphoric Jesus on Earth?), at his greatest moment of spiritual crisis (Why hast Thou forsaken me?)—the point where the Man of Faith renounces Jacob and agrees to join Man in Black (MIB). Hurley once again speaks with the dead in order to save the living. By the end of the scene, Richard takes up the cross, wearing it as a talisman against his own weakened faith and his desire to work closely with MIB. The island doesn’t need a replacement for Jacob; it has gentle, ordinary Hurley to show the world the best of what humanity can be and to offer the opportunity for salvation.

In the battle between Good and Evil on the island, I find the rhetoric of each combatant equally compelling, but then, Evil will tend to sound like Good, won’t it? The symbolism of the wine corked in the bottle, the future foreshadowed when MIB smashes the glass against a rock, isn’t all that surprising, but it definitely makes a point about today’s world as well as the fate of the island.

If I were on the island, I confess that I don’t know which camp I’d join, based on the actions of the “Devil” and “God.” MIB takes several forms, all associated with Locke, while Richard is chained to the Black Rock: moth, boar, Smoky—the many faces of MIB mirrored through Locke’s island stories. Is a Man of Faith evil? If I go by the actions of the priest who won’t absolve Richard’s sin (but chooses to accept payment for his enslavement) or the healer who casts away Isabelle’s cross because it is worthless, I can see why Richard, or any of us, would rightly question God’s lack of action on behalf of the weak or powerless. If I think of Jacob as God or even Good, I question what is good about violently bringing people to an island so that they can be tortured into choosing how to act. The good seem to die anyway, sometimes horribly (Charlie fan speaking here). The bad seem to prosper. Jacob can’t bring back the dead or offer absolution to the living. He just lets people make their own decisions and gloats over victory when they choose to be Good. Hmmm. Seriously rethinking the whole Man of Faith thing if Jacob is the object of the faithful’s adoration.

In this episode, Evil supposedly is MIB and, indeed, Smoky/fLocke/MIB often misleads followers with his words and wipes out those who stand—or run—in his path. He only provides water and food to Richard after visiting him in several forms to check on his progress in getting out of those chains. He offers “freedom,” but at what price? He equates life/the island with hell and points out that Jacob isn’t helping anyone into heaven—or even back to LA. In fact, MIB doesn’t seem all that different from Jacob—manipulating people’s lives to prove a point or get what he wants.

“Ab Aeternum” takes powerful symbols and displays them obviously. It borrows shamelessly from literary masterpieces that question humankind’s existence and purpose; it forces us to look critically at cultural interpretations of Good and Evil but doesn’t tell us which is which.

If I have to choose a side and go with my inner sense of what is right and wrong, I’m turning my back on Jacob and MIB and following Hurley back into the jungle.

LOST: Dr. Linus

Top 10 Reasons Why I’d Happily Share the Teachers’ Lounge with Dr. Linus

1. He understands why the East India Company is so important (and likely would share that info with Charles Widmore or Richard Alpert in this or another timeline).

2. He cleans up after himself, and sometimes others.

3. He’s good to his dad.

4. He has his priorities straight, which makes him far less of a loser than he believes.

5. He knows how to get people to do his dirty work for him, yet…

6. …he’s a team player willing to give up his parking space to a helpful colleague.

7. He understands how to make a successful power play but doesn’t live for power.

8. He cares about his students and is willing to put their welfare before his own.

9. He’s allowed a cosmic do-over and gets it right.

10. He truly is one of the good guys.

(not to mention he and I are both “Dr.”s who studied history—and who knew I’d be proud to claim common ground with Dr. Linus?!)

Wow—I never thought I’d write those words about Ben Linus, much less nominate him for Teacher of the Year. Lost has a tendency to do that to people, including me—leading us down one path into the jungle only to light a torch guiding us back to the beach with a whole new outlook on life.

As a bonus, even in the flashsideways, Locke and Ben are interconnected in ever-shifting mind games of power one-upsmanship. In the teachers’ lounge, Locke rolls in long enough to encourage Ben to take over the Principal’s job. On the island, fLocke offers Ben his one-time dream job—king of the island. (ABC really needs to consider Terry O’Quinn’s idea for a new series starring the dramedy duo of Linus/Locke a bit more seriously. I’d tune in just to see their interplay in any timeline.)

I won’t get into all the ironic moments between Ben and Roger, no longer a workman, or Ben and Alex, or Ben and Locke/FLocke, but I loved them all and took notes for future books. I’m still digging, quite literally this week, references to Nikki and Paulo, their diamonds, Sawyer’s porn stash, and Ben’s promised payoff. But the best was saved for the last few moments of the episode:

Redemption!!!

If Ben can be redeemed (by Ilana, disciple of Jacob), then anyone can. Ben’s expression as he follows Ilana back to the beach is exquisite: the shock of forgiveness given so freely and simply, the opportunity to make a choice (yay free will!), the realization that, despite all he’s done (or hasn’t done), he’s still wanted by something other than Evil Incarnate. I am one happy theme lover after last night’s episode.

This emotionally powerful scene was followed by Reunion!! Once again, Sun is reunited with long-lost castaways at the beach camp. Did you notice that the music that accompanied the return home of the Oceanic 6 also reverberated throughout this scene, causing yet another resonance between a Season 6 episode and one from an earlier season? The 3 Rs of this episode: redemption, reunion, resonance.

Plus, in sidestories on the other side of the island…

• Score one for everyone who figured out Richard came to the island chained in the Black Rock.

• In a “Touched by a Jacob” moment, Jack becomes a Man of Faith—OK, backed up by some pretty good evidence that Richard can’t easily die—during a game of chicken with a lighted fuse. The people Jacob touches can’t die by their own hand. So…Richard can’t blow himself up (which means Locke wouldn’t have been able to commit suicide without deus ex machina Ben), so Jack also can’t kill himself by lighting the fuse to the dynamite and waiting for the big explosion. Hmmm. Could Jack light a fuse to blow up Richard while Richard lights a fuse to blow up Jack? Just asking. My head is starting to hurt…again. I hope Jack has a better grasp of the rules for Jacob’s game of Life.

• Best line of the night: Hurley to Jack after pleading for him to leave the Black Rock: “If you change your mind, I’ll be like a mile away.” Next best lines of the night: Everything Miles says to Ben—cue the snark!

• Widmore in the sub! With the beachgoers in his sights!


Even the previews layered hints about themes yet to be explored: “Bird on a Wire,” with lyrics like “I have tried in my way to be free,” provides a musical backdrop for Sawyer’s promise to get off the island. Sawyer and “Freedom Song”s—another combination just waiting to be revisited.

How many hours is it to next Tuesday?

LOST--Sundown (as always, spoilers ahead)

Elton John’s plaintive “Don’t let the su-u-un go down on me” came to mind during the final moments of last night’s LOST, “Sundown.” Although the Season Six episodes mirror the order of those from the beginning of Season One, “Sundown” is Sayid-centric, unlike “House of the Rising Sun.” Nevertheless, the concept of oppositions—sunrise/sunset, light/dark, Good/Evil, Kate/Claire, Jacob/fLocke—rules this episode.

I love a good battle between Good and Evil. My favorite literature, film, and TV series deal with such epic conflicts, whether between characters or within a single character. “Sundown” might have been a bit heavy-handed in illustrating these dichotomies within individuals, but it emphasizes the core theme of LOST and provides a Biblical or, if you prefer, operatic conclusion to the first third of the final season.

Of course, Sayid is the perfect character to illustrate the very human desire to be good (“I am a good man,” he tells Dogen) despite his actions (“I know what you did in the war, Sayid,” Omar reminds him). Sayid seems equally comfortable as Nadia’s tender confidante and doting uncle to her children or a calm, controlled killer. Which Sayid is the real man? Is he damned for being an interrogator, killing his brother’s tormentors, letting fLocke loose in the temple? Is love the force that drives him to such evil acts, or is it merely a convenient excuse for doing what comes naturally?

The oppositions between characters even offer a new perspective on what it means to be an ideal parent and how far most people fall from that ideal (including, we learn, pre-island Dogen). Blonde Claire once seemed the epitome of protective motherhood, but brunette Kate of the equally dark past now seems the better choice to mother Aaron. Both mothers are murderers, but both love Aaron. How will good or evil play out in their upcoming battle for this child?

Claire’s haunting rendition of “Catch a Falling Star” recalls several flashbacks when she sang this lullaby to prospective parents and Kate sang to Aaron. Falling light—like a meteor streaking across the darkness or the last rays of light before sundown—foreshadows darkness to come. Claire reminds us to catch that falling star, put it in our pocket, and “save it for a rainy day.” Did you notice how much rain falls in this episode? fLocke even assumes greater power and more followers to the accompaniment of thunder, but then, Smokey has always been his own little dark cloud of terror.

By far, the greatest battle to come must involve Jacob, who, although “dead,” certainly seems to exercise a lot of influence over the island’s future, as well as that of its current inhabitants. Is he really the force of Good everyone seems to assume? Just like fLocke, he is persuasive and not always benevolent. Did he see Evil in Sayid, leading him to allow Nadia to die in Island Sayid’s timeline? Was Dogen’s son’s accident something similar? fLocke, so beautifully played by Terry O’Quinn, is certainly a dark force with a silver tongue. Should we take Dogen’s and Jacob’s word that he is Evil Incarnate? Like Jack, if we’re men or women of science, we might have trouble interpreting all the evidence. Like Locke, if we’re men or women of faith, we might question how Jacob could die and leave his followers defenseless while fLocke/Smokey runs amok.

As fLocke smugly leads his followers off camera, ending the first part of the final season, we are invited to follow. The battle is coming, and we’ll all soon be forced to choose a side. Will you follow fLocke’s torch into the darkness?

LOST: Lighthouse--SPOILERS

OK, you know the drill. It's now about 10:25 p.m. Eastern, which means that if you don't live on my side of the U.S., you probably haven't watched LOST yet. Major spoilers for imagery and an incredibly beautiful scene that shouldn't be spoiled. SO--if you don't want to be spoiled and haven't seen this episode--don't read the blog yet. But I hope you'll come back later if you're leaving now. I'd like to know your reaction to the Lighthouse.


Women's figure skating is promised soon, so this blog will be brief, but I simply have to comment on one of the most lovely images in all of LOSTdom:

the place where Jacob meets each candidate briefly becomes reflected in the mirrors of the lighthouse.

Byodo-In Temple, one of my favorite places on Oahu, flashes by when Hurley adjusts the mechanism past 42 degrees. At 15, the steeple of the church where "Sawyer" says goodbye to his parents is reflected. And at 23, Jack's name prominently scratched into the metal (the only name not crossed out in the entries listed in the late teens and early twenties), Jack sees his childhood home reflected in the glass.

At the top of the lighthouse, Jack realizes that he, along with 107 other candidates (the magic 108 total again), has been chosen by Jacob. Jack chooses to believe in "destiny"--that he's been manipulated his whole life by Jacob. He doesn't think he's ever had free will. Hurley, on the other hand, very openly does what Jacob asks, but he makes the choice to do so. He believes in his free will but simply chooses to do what Jacob asks. Jacob know what works with each of his candidates.

Other images resonate from the past: Alice in Wonderland, a rabbit on the doorstep, a hidden house key, the number 23 highlighted on the door to Jack's son's house--all reflections of Jack's flashback episodes. Each symbol reflects the Jack who first lands on the island, the Jack of the alternate timeline, Jack the boy reflected in his son David, Jack the father reflected in his son's eyes.

Not surprisingly, Jack questions his appendectomy scar when he looks at his mirror image--he doesn't remember how he got the scar. (We remember Juliet's impromptu beach surgery, but Jack hears a different explanation.) Jack may not remember how he got all his scars, but we do.

What is real, what is imagined, what is a reflection of who we think we are--this episode beautifully illustrates so many questions that reflect our experience watching LOST as much as questions about the human experience.

Perhaps that's why I love Hurley so much in this episode. He asks Jacob all the questions I would be too afraid to ask. He expects the truth from Jacob and doesn't flinch from it. He is the most honest character of the series, which is why he makes such a good lighthouse--a beacon of truth, a light against the darkness.

In this episode, Hurley is Jack's lighthouse. He shows him the way and forces Jack to look at himself--to face some difficult truths. Hurley sees life differently from anyone else in the series. He's both an Everyperson and a uniquely spiritual guide, and both sides to his nature are reflected in the imagery and dialogue of the Lighthouse.