Jack opened his eyes. He was dazed. He saw green trunks of trees. Before moving, he sensed the eerie quiet. Was he dead? But, a blade from grass touched his cheek. He felt something - of course, he was still alive! Then, he stood up and realized he was in the middle of a thicket. Vegetation surrounded him like foe and he saw the dog looking at him with curiosity... He felt pain all over his body and he heard the ocean. He rushed to where the ocean was and he saw them.
There were people both living and dying. The dead stayed immobile on the beach with eyes wide open, the dying ones were trying to figure out whether they were in heaven or hell. Then, Jack saw the debris of their plane. Of course! He was a passenger of Oceanic Flight 815 and their plane crashed.
He hurried to where the injured persons were. He tried to resuscitate a woman who seemed not to breathe. The woman coughed and he commanded someone to take care of her as he scurried on the sand to find more of the injured. He must help them!
Jack then remembered he was a doctor.
So goes the opening sequence of J.J. Abrams' pilot episode of LOST. The TV premiere garnered an average of 15.69 million US viewers per episode on ABC. During its sixth and final season, the show averaged over 11 million US viewers per episode. Viewers hungered for the answers when they find themselves asking a lot of questions as the episodes unfold more twists and turns.
But the series was a no-nonsense one. Although there were twists, they were presented in a consistent manner where the story is intact and the characterization, precise. Indeed, every time the scenes were presented, the viewers were allowed to think... deeply. The main interest would crop up when one realizes that "there's something about the island!"
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You know such places.
One time, you were cajoled by your friends to go to a night joint and you suddenly sensed sex on the atmosphere. When the nude women started to gyrate onstage, you wanted to find blankets to cover their imperfections. The men salivate on the mons pubis downwards but you saw poverty behind the staged lust on the ladies' faces. You also saw the scars of childhood rashes and deprivation of Vitamin C. Their reptilian skin was slick with perspiration yet the men around you wanted to perform the animal instinct of mating and nothing more. But there were no blankets and your urge was as blasphemous as shouting F_CK YOU! inside a church while the priest is venerating the unleavened bread to become the body of Christ.
You also remembered a street corner where some drinking buddies drowning their souls with intoxicants witnessed an accident from someone riding a motorbike. The driver, sans a helmet, flew some feet away from them banging his head on concrete. The will to help surfaced on the drunks. One lifted the victim while another started massaging the chest of the man. One shouted to unbuckle the belt and take off his shoes. When another saw that the man stopped breathing, he grabbed the man's balls and squeezed them hard. He died anyway.
There's also an acacia tree near the church of your place. Across the street is the statue of Michael the Archangel stepping on the devil with his sword angled to impale Satan. But at night time, some young couples (gay, straight and whatnot) would make this spot as their rendezvous. Others are equipped with protection, others would simply make the Australian bush as their thin shield from shame. You even wondered if the energy of this place would shift since an adoration chapel is on its completion.
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Yeah, Jack is a fictitious character and his island. But his kind and his island is here amongst us.
(Matthew Fox's photo: fanpop.com)
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