Last minute LOST thoughts

As always, I’m not 100% committed to these ideas.

Jack (English) = Jacques (French) = Jacobus (Latin)
What if whatever Jack does in 1977 traps him somehow in that cabin (that hasn’t been built yet…?) until Locke sees him in 2004.  Which prompts Jack to say “Help me”, which loosely translates as “Kill me”.  Also, if Jacob = Jack, then Christian’s statement that he’s not Jacob but speaks on his behalf carries more weight.

Did anyone else get a vibe last week that maybe Richard Alpert isn’t entirely on the up-and-up?

Has anyone else tried to follow the pocket watch?  I think the watch itself is something of an analogy for our time-travelers, and it’s said that the path of the watch is on a mobius strip.  But my problem is if the compass is just a little rustier than when Locke is about to hand it right back to Richard 50 something years earlier…won’t this compass just disintegrate?  UNLESS, Whatever Happened Happened (WHH) is not true and somehow (this part I can’t figure out) this really is the first and only time these events transpired.   ????  I’m not a real believer in this, I prefer WHH, but I can’t account for rust on the compass.  And rest assured, that line was written intentionally.

One last thought before the closing bell.  Suppose Jack detonating Jughead really does alter time so that 815 doesn’t crash.  Then Jack never goes to the Island and certainly never returns to the Island to detonate Jughead causing 815 to crash in 2004.  I’m not saying this is a paradox that can’t happen.  Instead I am suggesting that instead of thinking about events happening in an infinite loop (WHH), what if events are happening in a double loop where 1/2 the time 815 crashes and the other 1/2 it doesn’t.  One event causes the other.  Each hand washes the other.

Glad I got that out.  I know most of you won’t read this until after the finale, but I wanted to get my time stamped on the small chance some of these things come true.

Jeremy Stories, Part III

Once upon a time, Jeremy and I went to a college in Arkansas, a place that has four seasons.  That would include a real winter.  Not a brutal winter, but it could and would have freezing or near freezing temperatures those months.  Our junior year, we lived in Cone 206.  [Remember that, for it will become a major player for some future stories.]  Cone was a brand new dorm that had two sleeping areas, a bathroom, and a shared living area.  We lived with two others, Ryan and Jon.  Jon was my roommate and Ryan was Jeremy’s.  In hindsight, it is ridiculous that we didn’t trade roommates, for Jeremy and I both love it cold while Ryan and Jon both prefer warmer/deliriously hot*.  There were constant battles over the thermostat, but these are stories for a different time.

To get to the story at hand, Jeremy would often sleep on the couch in the living area instead of his room.  You see, Jeremy would turn the couch around so that it was facing the window right up against the wall, and he would sleep under his down comforter with the windows open.  And it would get cold.

Now, I’m not sitting in judgment for this.  Recall I love it cold as well.  In fact, the previous semester, Jeremy and I were proper roommates and we both slept with the windows open during the colder months.

No, the best part is how he warmed up in the mornings.

By closing the windows?

Please.

By raising the temperature on the thermostat?

Hardly.

By running the blow dryer under the covers?

Nailed it.

*Jon so loved the heat that, in the summertime, he would return to his car after church and just sit in the baking metal box it had become.  Without turning the car on, let alone the AC.  I believe Jon suffered brain damage during these times.