Well, that didn't take very long. Here are some more thoughts on the finale of Lost, stolen from iamtheblog's Eric Schwortz, who also makes noise with a band called Milagres.

Anyone who expected answers to all the pseudo-scientific questions was probably missing the point the entire time. There, I said it. now, allow me to do the one thing LOST never set out to do: explain.

Much like Twin Peaks, LOST mashed a lot of genres together. David Lynch seemingly set out to make a really dark, supernatural freak-fest dressed up as a soap opera, and ultimately the resolution (and entire second season) were extremely disappointing. LOST was a drama about interpersonal relationships, choices, actions, love and death (a soap opera) dressed up as a paranormal, mad-scientist weirdo-parade. the reason Twin Peaks failed is because it lost its heart in its second act. the superficial mask of humanity simply didn’t remain intact, and it was difficult to care about the characters anymore. LOST kept its heart in the right place. The rest doesn’t really matter.

Maybe how you feel about the show’s resolution comes down to the kind of “man” you are (women, please excuse the reduction for the sake of reference). are you a man of science, or a man of faith? regardless of what LOST meant by "faith," I don’t mean it in the judeo-christian sense. What I mean is: what matters to you, logistics or humanity?

Did you not truly care about many of these characters? Their back-stories were rich and complex. The acting was often top-notch, and the emotion was often very real for those of us watching (and apparently for the cast, as well). The polar bear, the hatch, and the three-toed statue were devices to draw us in. The mysteries are what kept us watching—not what we were rewarded with in the end. The show was always at its best when we were left in the dark. Answers could only be disappointing. Twin Peaks is as good an example of this as any.

LOST left us with a lot more than answers, though; it brought something special to television viewers who demanded more from the medium than Slut Town and American’s Next Top Grilled Cheese Sandwich. The true test of an important, timeless show is its contribution to enriching culture. When a taxi cab zips by while its receipt is still printing, you’ll remember the black smoke. As you approach the check-out counter at the supermarket, you’ll think of the button.

Think of your favorite character on the show, and then try to forget that character. Try to imagine a world in which that character never existed. Depending on who you pick, it might seem impossible, because a lot of the characters don’t really seem all that fictional. I don’t personally want to live in a world—or a flash-sideways—where Sawyer, Hurley and Charlie don’t exist. I care about those characters. More importantly, I have friends and loved ones—old and new—who feel the same way.

LOST was essentially about a shared experience: the experience of crash landing on a weird island and learning to live together in the hopes of eventual rescue. Watching the show was the same: the shared experience of watching people crash land on a weird island while trying to understand what was happening in the hopes of resolution. Not everyone on the island lived long enough to escape, and not all of us felt satisfied with the show’s resolution, but we did it together without having to watch American Idol.

The show’s finale made no attempt to hide the fact that LOST was (and always has been) about love. It’s about the people in your life that you’ve come to care for, and that you’d risk your life to protect. That’s what life is about, too. In the end, the polar bears and hatches and buttons and three-toed statues in life don’t really matter.

And hey, it gave us something much more thought-provoking to talk about than Celebrity Whatever.