Lost

Episode Report Card
Cindy McLennan: B+ | Grade It Now!
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How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb
In a hurry? Read the recaplet for a nutshell description!
Welcome back to the third hour of this season's Lost! Was that the longest week ever? That didn't involve donkey-wheel propelled time manipulation, that is? I'm thinking yes. This is a foundational episode, dusted with glittering call-backs from the Continuity Fairy's wand, so let's allow the magic to work its will. We open on a beach that tries to trick me into thinking it's our island's beach in times long past (or yet to come, or something), but that would be too linear. Instead, it seems to be a beach in the Philippines. I say this because the closed captioning reports that people are speaking in a Filipino dialect and because at some point we see a sign bearing a small Philippine Islands flag, which reads Mabuhay and Google indicates that's a Tagalog greeting. Desmond runs along the beach (run Des, run) and through an adjacent marketplace yelling, "Efren Salonga," over and over until he finds what he's looking for, i.e. Efren Salonga -- which is not a what or a which, but a whom -- a doctor (not a witch doctor and not Dr. Who; which I note because either option could also work on this show). The good doctor is gambling in some sort of gambling... er... hut. As you can tell, I got this gig thanks to my extensive vocabulary. Dr. Salonga follows Des back to the boat. Des yells about there being "a lot of blood" but doesn't quantify that for the doctor. Poor Penny waits below deck, alone and... IN LABOR!

Dr Salonga and Des help Penny deliver her child with the biggest-ass pair of forceps you can imagine. I mean they're toss-his-eff'n-salonga-overboard big; you could deliver something the approximate size of the inside of a Tardis with those puppies. Now, I'm crying, not just because of the forceps which I've mostly and conveniently blocked out, but because of the BABY! (yay), who is also crying. And thank goodness for that, because that means he's breathing, although it might also mean he's not happy being smeared with plum puree and rice cereal ala tapioca, or whatever it is they've put on this little one so that he looks fresh from the oven. Whatever, it's a boy, and he thinks his hands are tasty. Pen and Des are too in love to realize their son is licking off amniotic goop, but their love brings so much light to this dark show I'll give them a pass.

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Lost

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