When I was a kid, all the girls were abuzz about General Hospital. Luke, Laura, Ice Princess, blah blah blah, who knows, I wasn't really listening, even though I was pretending to be enraptured. I gathered, though, that they were whipped into a frenzy over 99 33/100% pure crap, some god-awful sci-fi plot in which our good-looking heroes were pitted in a battle to save the world from a fiend who was going to freeze the Earth.
Yep. Precisely. That's how I felt, too.
I feel exactly the same way, for exactly the same reasons, about the TV show "Lost." I've watched a few episodes. I don't get it. Oh, I get the show; I don't get its popularity. It's pretty obviously schlock, its run padded heavily with increasingly uninteresting backstories that have nothing to do with the many weird-for-the-sake-of-weird "mysteries" for which, I know in the bowels of my bowels, no satisfactory explanation is forthcoming. The idea of watching this show every Wednesday night for the next 2-17 years is like the idea of dating a stupid, pretty chick. Sure, it's good for a few months, but that loud ticking sound you hear is the countdown to inevitable disgust and disillusionment. I'll pass.