Blost.

Shut up and blog or I keel you man!

In a cave.

Cut off from human contact.

Listening to rock-n-roll from a bygone day.

Laboring over an antique workstation.

Weird shit is happening.

And worried that if I don’t enter something on my computer every 108-fucking-minutes something Very Bad will happen.

Is this the story arc for the new season Lost, or what happens to bloggers when they get a little too, um, “focused”?

I don’t know.

What I do know is I kinda dig the television show “Lost” especially now that it’s taken a sharp turn into science fiction. I’ve got a head for useless plot flotsam and narrative jetsam from all over spacetime, and I still can’t figure out where the writers are driving the story.

It’s got a little bit of a “Tunnel Under The World” tang to it. A full cup of clarified “Ubik” and “The Three Stigmata of Palmer Eldritch”. A dash of the Original Twilight Zone pilot, smoked over “The Veldt” with strong “Job: A Comedy of Justice” top-notes.

Or is it “Mindkiller”?

Or a little gem from a very special, nearly-forgotten, mid-70’s, teevee movie stash, “The Haunts of the Very Rich”?

I don’t know, but it’s fun to guess, and to hope that they’re not on a weird-for-weird’s-sake ether frolic and writing themselves into a “Twin Peaks” corner from which there is only one escape: The last reel of “Apocalypse Now.”

What I also know is, I can finally rest for awhile.

Maybe 102 minutes or so.

Maybe have me one ‘a them “Apollo Bars” and try to see if I can accidentally catch Evangeline Lilly

stepping out of the shower.

Mmm.

Evangeline...radiating cool and tough and smart and sexy on all frequencies, and I’m just certain that if she put on a pair of glasses she could pull off that hot/nerdy thing against which I have no defenses.

Mmm.

Oh crap!

Now I only have 101 minutes.