i celebrate the day that You were born to die

And with this Christmas wish is missed the point I could convey. If only I could find the words to say to let you know how much you’ve touched my life because here is where you’re finding me, in the exact same place as New Year’s Eve; and from a lack of my persistence, we’re less than half as close as I want to be.

The first time that you opened your eyes, did you realize that you would be my savior? And the first breath that left your lips, did you know that it would change this world forever?

And so this Christmas I’ll compare the things I felt in prior years to what this midnight made so clear, that you have come to meet me here. To look back, to think that this baby would one day save me; and the hope that you give, that you were born so I might really live.

And I celebrate the day that you were born to die so I could one day pray for you to save my life.

Merry Christmas – please, amidst your festivities with family and friends, remember the real meaning of this holiday we celebrate.

gabriel’s questions

Gabriel must have scratched his head at this one. He wasn’t one to question his God-given missions. Sending fire and dividing seas were all in an eternity’s work for this angel. When God sent, Gabriel went.

And when word got out that God was to become man, Gabriel was enthused. He could envision the moment:

The Messiah in a blazing chariot.

The King descending on a fiery cloud.

An explosion of light from which the Messiah would emerge.

That’s what he expected. What he never expected, however, was what he got: a slip of paper with a Nazarene address. “God will become a baby,” it read. “Tell the mother to name the child Jesus. And tell her not to be afraid.”

Gabriel was never one to question, but this time he had to wonder.

God will become a baby? Gabriel had seen babies before. He had been platoon leader on the bulrush operation. He remembered what little Moses looked like.

That’s okay for humans, he thought to himself. But God?

The heavens can’t contain him; how could a body? Besides, have you seen what comes out of those babies? Hardly befitting for the Creator of the universe. Babies must be carried and fed, bounced and bathed. To imagine some mother burping God on her shoulder–that was beyond what even an angel could imagine.

And what of this name–what was it–Jesus? Such a common name. There’s a Jesus in every cul-de-sac. Come on, even Gabriel has more punch to it than Jesus. Call the baby Eminence or Majesty or Heaven-sent. Anything but Jesus.

So Gabriel scratched his head. What happened to the good ol’ days? The Sodom and Gomorrah stuff. Flooding the globe. Flaming swords. That’s the action he liked.

But Gabriel had his orders. Take the message to Mary. Must be a special girl, he assumed as he traveled. But Gabriel was in for another shock. One peek told him Mary was no queen. The mother-to-be of God was not regal. She was a Jewish peasant who’d barely outgrown acne and had a crush on a guy named Joe.

And speaking of Joe–what does this fellow know? Might as well be a weaver in Spain or a cobbler in Greece. He’s a carpenter. Look at him over there, sawdust in his beard and nail apron around his waist. You’re telling me God is going to have dinner every night with him? You’re telling me the source of wisdom is going to call this guy “Dad?” You’re telling me a common laborer is going to be charged with giving food to God?

What if he gets laid off?

What if he gets cranky?

What if he decides to run off with a pretty young girl from down the street? Then where will we be?

It was all Gabriel could do to keep from turning back. “This is a peculiar idea you have, God,” he must have muttered to himself.

******

Are God’s guardians given to such musings?

Are we? Are we still stunned by God’s coming? Still staggered by the event? Does Christmas still spawn the same speechless wonder it did two thousand years ago?

I’ve been asking that question lately–to myself. As I write, Christmas is only days away and something just happened that has me concerned that the pace of the holidays may be overshadowing the purpose of the holidays.

I saw a manger in a mall. Correct that. I barely saw a manger in a mall. I almost didn’t see it. I was in a hurry. Guests coming. Santa dropping in. Sermons to be prepared. Services to be planned. Presents to be purchased.

The crush of things was so great that the crèche of Christ was almost ignored. I nearly missed it. And had it not been for the child and his father, I would have.

But out of the corner of my eye, I saw them. The little boy, three, maybe four years old, in jeans and high-tops staring at the manger’s infant. The father, in baseball hat and work clothes, looking over his son’s shoulder, gesturing first at Joseph, then Mary, then the baby. He was telling the little fellow the story.

And oh, the twinkle in the boy’s eyes. The wonder on his little face. He didn’t speak. He just listened. And I didn’t move. I just watched. What questions were filling the little boy’s head? Could they have been the same as Gabriel’s? What sparked the amazement on his face? Was it the magic?

And why is it that out of a hundred or so of God’s children, only two paused to consider his son? What is this December demon that steals our eyes and stills our tongues? Isn’t this the season to pause and pose Gabriel’s questions?

The tragedy is not that we can’t answer them, but that we are too busy to ask them.

Only heaven knows how long Gabriel fluttered unseen above Mary before he took a breath and broke the news. But he did. He told her the name. He told her the plan. He told her not to be afraid. And when he announced, “With God nothing is impossible!” he said it as much for himself as for her.

For even though he couldn’t answer the questions, he knew who could, and that was enough. And even though we can’t answer them all, taking time to ask a few would be a good start.

–Max Lucado, God Came Near

joseph’s prayer

This isn’t the way I planned it, God. Not at all. My child being born in a stable? This isn’t the way I thought it would be. A cave with sheep and donkeys, hay and straw? My wife giving birth with only the stars to hear her pain?

This isn’t at all what I imagined. No, I imagined family. I imagined grandmothers. I imagined neighbors clustered outside the door and friends standing at my side. I imagined the house erupting with the first cry of the infant. Slaps on the back. Loud laughter. Jubilation.

That’s how I thought it would be.

But now. Now look. Nazareth is five days’ journey away. And here we are in a . . . in a sheep pasture. Who will celebrate with us? The sheep? The shepherds? The stars?

This doesn’t seem right. What kind of husband am I? I provide no midwife to aid my wife. No bed to rest her back. Her pillow is a blanket from my donkey. My house for her is a shed of hay and straw.

The smell is bad, the animals are loud. Why, I even smell like a shepherd myself.

Did I miss something? Did I, God?

When you sent the angel and spoke of the son being born–this isn’t what I pictured. I envisioned Jerusalem, the temple, the priests, and the people gathered to watch. A pageant perhaps. A parade. A banquet at least. I mean, this is the Messiah!

Or, if not born in Jerusalem, how about Nazareth? Wouldn’t Nazareth have been better? At least there I have my house and my business. Out here, what do I have? A weary mule, a stack of firewood, and a pot of warm water. This is not the way I wanted it to be! This is not the way I wanted my son.

Oh my, I did it again. I did it again didn’t I, Father? I don’t mean to do that; it’s just that I forget. He’s not my son . . . he’s yours.

The child is yours. The plan is yours. The idea is yours. And forgive me for asking but . . . is this how God enters the world? The coming of the angel, I’ve accepted. The questions people asked about the pregnancy, I can tolerate. The trip to Bethlehem, fine. But why a birth in a stable, God?

Any minute now Mary will give birth. Not to a child, but to the Messiah. Not to an infant, but to God. That’s what the angel said. That’s what Mary believes. And, God, my God, that’s what I want to believe. But surely you can understand; it’s not easy. It seems so . . . bizarre.

I’m unaccustomed to such strangeness, God. I’m a carpenter. I make things fit. I square off the edges. I follow the plumb line. I measure twice before I cut once. Surprises are not the friend of a builder. I like to see the plan before I begin.

But this time I’m not the builder, am I? This time I’m a tool. A hammer in your grip. A nail between your fingers. A chisel in your hands. This project is yours, not mine.

I guess it’s foolish of me to question you. Forgive my struggling. Trust doesn’t come easy to me, God. But you never said it would be easy, did you?

One final thing, Father. The angel you sent? Any chance you could send another? If not an angel, maybe a person? I don’t know anyone around here and some company would be nice. Maybe the innkeeper or a traveler? Even a shepherd would do.

I wonder. Did Joseph ever pray such a prayer? Perhaps he did. Perhaps he didn’t.

But you probably have.

You’ve stood where Joseph stood. Caught between what God says and what makes sense. You’ve stared into a sky blackened with doubt. And you’ve asked what Joseph asked.

You’ve asked if you’re still on the right road. You’ve asked if you were supposed to turn left when you turned right. And you’ve asked if there is a plan behind this scheme. Things haven’t turned out like you thought they would.

Each of us knows what it’s like to search the night for light. Not outside a stable, but perhaps outside an emergency room. On the gravel of a roadside. On the manicured grass of a cemetery. We’ve asked our questions. We questioned God’s plan. And we’ve wondered why God does what he does.

No, the Bethlehem sky is not the first to hear the pleadings of an honest heart, nor the last. And perhaps God didn’t answer every question for Joseph. But he answered the most important one. “Are you still with me, God?” And through the first cries of the God-child the answer came.

“Yes. Yes, Joseph. I’m with you.”

There are many questions that we won’t be able to answer. Many times we will muse, “I wonder . . .”

But in our wonderings, there is one question we never need to ask. Does God care? Do we matter to God? Does he still love his children?

Through the small face of the stable-born baby, he says yes.

Yes, your sins can be forgiven.

Yes, your name can be written in heaven.

Yes, death has been defeated.

Because God has entered the world.

Immanuel. God is with us.

–Max Lucado, He Still Moves Stones

the wrong will fail, the right prevail

I blogged about this last year, but “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day” is still very personal and profound for me.

It wasn’t until Mark Hall put his spin on the song based on Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s Civil War-era poem that I realized just how powerful the words were, and how applicable they are still to this day.

I even worked it into the Christmas project I gave my family last year, which was an original short story.

Casting Crowns performed the song live on a Christmas special last year and I absolutely cannot watch it without weeping — especially when the children’s choir sings. There’s just something about young children singing that makes me come undone.

Even when I’m at my darkest moments, I’m reminded that ultimately, “God is not dead, nor does He sleep,” and that peace on earth will eventually be realized.

best movie of 2009

As a general rule, I find that the movies that usually draw the largest amount of critical acclaim or elitist buzz — at least in recent years — are either overrated, really do not appeal to me whatsoever, or a little of both.

I am here to say that this observation most definitely does not apply to Up in the Air. San Antonio was fortunate enough to get it before its wide release next Wednesday, and I caught the first matinee today at the one theater in town at which it’s playing.

I haven’t seen Avatar, Invictus, or Sherlock Holmes yet, but I am willing to go out on a limb and say that Up in the Air is the best movie I’ve seen this year. It wasn’t as heartwarming as The Blind Side and it didn’t tap into every romantic notion I harbor about vampires like New Moon and it…well, it wasn’t Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, but I still have to say that it really has been the best movie I’ve seen all year.

It’s been nominated for Golden Globes and Screen Actor Guild Awards for Best Picture, Best Director (Jason Reitman), Best Actor (George Clooney), Best Supporting Actress (Vera Farmiga and Anna Kendrick), and I think — I don’t feel like checking — Best Adapted Screenplay or whatever that category is. All those in the know are predicting the same nominations when the Oscars roll around.

The movie is deserving of all of the rave reviews and all of the nominations. George Clooney is positively amazing. He’s charming and smarmy and sincere and condescending and gallant and…wow. He just oozes sexiness. Even his salt-and-pepper hair and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes are sexy.

George Clooney as Ryan Bingham

I really liked Vera Farmiga in the short-lived USA drama Touching Evil (which also starred the always-sexy Jeffrey Donovan of Burn Notice awesomeness), and I was also a fan of her performances in The Departed and The Boy in the Striped Pajamas. Her Up in the Air role was surprising. Basically her Alex was a female Ryan (Clooney’s character), but there’s a twist that I most definitely didn’t expect. It left me a bit unsettled. Which is exactly what it was supposed to do.

George Clooney and Vera Farmiga

But Anna Kendrick stole the show. I’m not saying this because she’s my newest favorite actress, or because I loved her in Twilight, New Moon, Rocket Science, and Camp. I say it because it’s true. She stole Clooney’s thunder right out from under him. She is masterful at layering confidence with insecurity and vulnerability, and the scene where she breaks down in the hotel lobby is both laugh-out-loud funny and also heart-wrenching.

Anna Kendrick as Natalie Keener

Jason Reitman (who directed another of my very favorite movies, Juno) did a spectacular job. Up in the Air is clever and witty and touching and…real. One of the tag lines on the promo posters says the movie’s about a man ready to make a connection, and that’s exactly it. Ryan Bingham’s journey is refreshing, and George Clooney perfectly inhabits the role.

I cannot wait to see it again.

#52 – the christmas sweater

Written by: Glenn Beck
Recommended by: my mother (and the fact that I love Glenn)

Like him or hate him, you can’t deny that Glenn Beck is fascinating. In fact, Barbara Walters recently hailed him as one of her most fascinating people of 2009. I’ve been a big fan of his for a couple of years now. He has a way with words. He’s very persuasive and charismatic, and he is an exceptional storyteller.

Glenn’s first work of fiction, The Christmas Sweater, is based on a deeply personal — and true — story.

It is a beautifully compelling tale of love, sacrifice, hope, and redemption and reminds us that who we are (and Whose we are) is quite different from what we are.

clearly the best

I’m a relative newcomer to So You Think You Can Dance, and honestly, had my friend, Marcia, not forced me to watch over the summer, I’d still be clueless as to how incredibly awesome this show is.

This is the first season I’ve watched start to finish, as I didn’t start watching last season till the Top 10 had been announced. From the audition rounds, Kathryn McCormick has been my favorite. There was just something about her that stood out. She reminded me of Jeannine Mason, who won last season. (Like Kathryn, Jeannine was my favorite from the first moment I saw her dance.)

Jakob Karr is my other favorite, and he’s also been my favorite guy from the beginning. I have been waiting and waiting and waiting to see Kathryn and Jakob dance together, and finally, in tonight’s finale, it happened.

And it was breathtakingly stunning. That final pose brought immediate tears to my eyes.

I watched with my mouth hanging open. Thankfully I was the only one in the room, because I’m sure I looked like an idiot. As soon as it was over, while the crowd, including the choreographers and all three judges, was leaping to its feet, I rewound it and watched again.

As Nigel, Mary, and Adam all pointed out numerous times throughout the evening, Kathryn and Jakob are head and shoulders above the other finalists. They are brilliant. I’m at a loss as to who I want to win, because I seriously love both of them.

I leave you with their contemporary number, and I so agree with Mary — it is the best routine I have ever seen.

rocket science

Rocket Science took Sundance by storm in 2007.

Until last week, I hadn’t even heard of it. But I liked Anna Kendrick so much in Twilight and New Moon (even though her role is tiny) and was so looking forward to seeing her Golden Globe-nominated role in the forthcoming Up in the Air, that I wanted to see the rest of her filmography.

There’s not a lot. There’s Rocket Science. The little indie music-driven Camp (which I just got from Netflix, too). There’s Elsewhere, the creepy thriller I watched last week. And Twilight.

But Rocket Science. Yeah. It’s amazing. It has a very Election-meets-Juno feel to it. It’s quirky and witty and the acting is great — particularly from Anna, Reece Thompson, and Nicholas D’Agosto (if you watch Heroes and/or The Office, you’ll recognize him).

In fact, it was Anna’s performance in Rocket Science that caused Twilight director Catherine Hardwicke to ask her to audition. Edgar Wright saw her in it and asked her to be in the forthcoming Scott Pilgrim vs. the World (which I am SO psyched to see), and Jason Reitman wrote the role of Natalie (Up in the Air) after seeing her as Ginny Ryerson.

You should definitely Netflix it. I’m seriously considering buying it.

It’s that enjoyable.

Anna Kendrick as Ginny Ryerson in Rocket Science

#51 – grace

Written by: Richard Paul Evans
Recommended by: Glenn Beck

Glenn Beck really IS the Oprah for conservatives. I love when he has authors on, and I love when he talks about books. If not for him, I would’ve missed out on Joel Rosenberg and Brad Thor, who have become two of my favorite authors. Next on my list is Vince Flynn.

A couple weeks ago, he had New York Times best-selling author Richard Paul Evans on talking about his latest book. I don’t even remember what that one is called, because Glenn started talking about one of Evans’ prior books, Grace, and I was immediately intrigued. It sounded amazing.

A few days ago, I stopped in at Barnes & Noble and picked it up. I read a few pages but just wasn’t in a reading mood.

Until today.

I finished the remaining 250 pages in about 90 minutes. I ignored the phone, I ignored the list of stuff I had to do, I ignored lunch. I couldn’t put it down.

It is engaging and funny and nostalgic and heart-wrenching and romantic and inspiring and redemptive and…it’s just one of the most amazing stories I have ever read.

Everyone who knows me knows how easily I cry when watching TV and/or movies, but they might be surprised to know I don’t cry all that much when I read. I can literally count on one hand the number of books that have made me cry.

Grace is one of them. I sobbed the final couple of chapters.

You must read this book.

It is phenomenal.

in anticipation of lost’s final hurrah

I can’t remember when I stopped watching LOST last season. I think I missed the last 10 episodes? Something like that? And it wasn’t because I got fed up with the show or thought it sucked or whatever. I’m not one of those fans. I’ve always had faith in Damon Lindelof and Carlton’s Cuse vision and have always trusted that they were telling the story they wanted to from start to finish.

It’s just that — and I don’t know if you’ve noticed — but LOST is such a HEAVY show. And then there’s the little issue of my obsessive-compulsive personality disorder. (No, I’m not exaggerating, and no, I’m not Monk-like. Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder [Monk] and Obsessive-Compulsive Personality Disorder are two entirely different things)

Anyway. I don’t like not knowing every single hint and clue and detail and background puzzle piece. I mean, seriously? I tend to equate watching LOST with…school work. I feel like I have to study before and after an episode to actually grasp all of its genius tendencies. Especially since I haven’t read nearly enough classic and/or cultish literature and fiction that D&C use to inspire their storytelling.

It’s why I have come to love J.J. Abram’s latest brain child, Fringe, more. I find it more compelling and more entertaining and more intriguing and more…fun. LOST is genius, but it is not fun. I am usually only mildly exaggerating (and sometimes not exaggerating at all) when I claim that it gives me a headache.

Anyway, but February 2 does begin the final season, and I know that it will be amazing, and I don’t want to miss out on the opportunity of watching it live. And since the Season 5 DVDs come out tomorrow, I’m going to use the rest of December and January to catch up so that I can tune in on Feb. 2 caught up and ready to go.

And yes, I still have a major crush on Damon. I am in awe of his brain.

The Bookworms: Lost’s Damon Lindelof & Carlton Cuse have made cerebral appointment TV

(From TV Guide)

Lost is one of the most influential shows on television, but also one of the most influenced. Executive producers Damon Lindelof and Carlton Cuse (or “Darlton,” as they’re known to fans) have created a baffling, intensely seductive story that blends sci-fi, fantasy, mystery, romance, and more than a little comedy. You can probably guess both men are obsessive consumers of pop culture, from Star Wars to The Prisoner. But they’re also well-read writers whose obsessions stretch from ancient mythology to Stephen King. Fans obsess over whether the show is rooted in Greek myth, the Old Testament, both, or something else entirely. We spoke to Lindelof and Cuse, who are among the influential television industry players interviewed for TVGuide.com’s Best of the Decade section, about who inspired them, why they set an end date for the show, and how they created their own myths.

TVGuide.com: Tell me about how each of you got involved with Lost.
Damon Lindelof: I got a call from an executive at ABC named Heather Kadin. It was late January. She was tasked with trying to coerce J.J. Abrams into rewriting a script that they had about a plane that had crashed on an island. J.J. said that he did not have time to do this because he was writing another pilot for ABC at the time and running Alias and trying to launch his feature career.

[Since I was a] stalker of J.J. and his work, Heather basically felt like this was a prime opportunity to put me in a room with him, even if the project went nowhere. I jumped at the chance. I met with J.J. on a Monday afternoon and we ended up geeking out for four hours, and five days later we had the outline for Lost. Ten weeks after that, we had the two-hour premiere completed.

Carlton Cuse: I created and ran a show called Nash Bridges and I hired Damon to be a writer on that show. We not only had a really good professional relationship, but we developed a really strong [friendship]. After the pilot process that Damon described, J.J. left to go do [Mission: Impossible 3] with Tom Cruise. Damon and I had been talking about the show and I had sort of fallen in love with what J.J. and Damon had done in the pilot and the world that had been created.

There were very few people who believed this premise was sustainable as a series, and that was incredibly liberating for me. Damon and I would sit down and have breakfast every morning — as we continue to do to this day — and we kind of approached it like it was just 12 episodes and out, how do we make these the 12 greatest episodes of television that we would want to see ourselves? We basically liberated ourselves from all the rules of traditional television narrative. We thought this thing would probably end up on DVD and would be like Twin Peaks or The Prisoner.

TVGuide.com: Did you ever think about syndication when you were creating the show, in that it’s so mythology-heavy?
Lindelof: I think at the time that Lost and Desperate Housewives and Grey’s Anatomy came along, serialized was a dirty word. But those shows basically proved that you could create a water-cooler zeitgeist around a show because it was serialized. To [ABC president] Steve McPherson’s credit, I think that there was a lot more focus on being successful while you were on the air, as opposed to thinking forward to what the possible syndication deals would be.

Fortunately for us at this time, the DVD television market was exploding. That provided a revenue stream for them that made up for the fact that the show probably wouldn’t [syndicate] well. But if you watch the first season of Lost, the heavy mythological elements were not really in play. There was character serialization, the romance, that kind of stuff, but in Season 1 it took them eight episodes to build a raft; in Season 5, they jump through time four times in a single episode. I don’t think we could’ve gotten away with that in Season 1, nor did we want to.

TVGuide.com: How do you respond to the criticism that people who were passionate about the show at the beginning have gotten “lost” along the way? Do you ever think: We’ve made things too complicated. We need to be simpler.
Cuse: In order to sustain a show over what ultimately will be 120 episodes, it has to be complex. If you took a non-Harry Potter viewer and asked them to watch the fourth or fifth movie, I think they’d be very confused about what’s going on. We feel like Season 5 was the highest degree of difficulty. We hope that a lot of viewers who left will come back for the end of the show. We tried to design the show with a certain circularity and we feel like Season 6 will be very much like Season 1 and while you do need to know backstories to follow what’s going on in Season 6, it’s very character-centric.

TVGuide.com: At what point did you decide: We really need to set an end date for the series. And why?
Lindelof: For us, the primary belief in the first season of the show was that we would not be able to sustain this premise forever because that’s what the story tells you. If the story starts with a plane crashing on an island, the story’s going to end when the people get off the island, and for us, the process of keeping them from leaving the island was going to be very finite.

By early in the second season, we engaged in a series of dialogues with the network, saying, hey, these flashbacks are not going to last forever. Once we answer the seminal mysteries of what it is that Kate did or how Locke ended up in the wheelchair, why Hurley ended up in a mental institution, then that phase of the story is done and we have to move into the next phase of the story, which we knew was basically the flash-forwards and the story of the Oceanic 6. We didn’t pull the trigger until we were allowed to move to the inevitable conclusion.

We always did our best to make the show great, but when you’re halfway through Season 3 and you’re doing episodes about Jack flying a kite in Thailand, then the network finally said, “Oh, this is what you guys were talking about.” So we were able to agree upon how many episodes were left and at that point we knew exactly how much time we had to arrive at our destination.

TVGuide.com: Have you always known what the end of the series would be? Has it changed at all?
Cuse: Always is the operative word. We developed a mythology, as I said earlier, in the first season and between the first and the second season, and we’re actually moving toward that exact end point. I mean, that has not changed. Certain details of how the show ends have evolved over time but that’s mainly on a character level as we’ve gotten to know the characters and seen how the actors interact. So there are parts of the ending that are still living and breathing, but the actual mythological endpoint has been constant since we developed the show.

TVGuide.com: Damon, during the writers’ strike, you wrote a piece for the New York Times mourning the loss of TV. I’m wondering how you think it’s going two years later.
Lindelof: I think that mourning the loss of TV was a very clever angle into [the way] the editorial was shaped but what I was really feeling was a tremendous level of excitement about the way television is watched. The fact of the matter is, people are still watching a lot of what we call “television,” except my brother-in-law goes to [college] and none of the kids in his dorm have televisions, they have laptops. They don’t watch television at 9 o’clock on a Wednesday night, they watch it on Hulu or ABC.com or the Comedy Central player. So can you really call that TV anymore? They don’t say, “I’m going to my dorm room to watch ‘computer.’”

Mourning television is this idea of [mourning a] traditional sort of broadcast, but the fact that content is so pervasive that anybody in the world can watch it is very, very exciting if you’re a storyteller. Two years later, what’s really great is all the things we went on strike for [and that we said] were going to happen are happening, and two years from now it will be even more profound.

See TVGuide.com’s picks for the Best TV Shows of the Year

TVGuide.com: What TV shows or entertainment figures inspired you or your work?
Cuse: For us, a lot of literary heroes, ranging from C.S. Lewis to Stephen King to Kurt Vonnegut and even the Bible, have been real sources of inspiration.

Lindelof: I think that there are also a number of TV writers, from David Kelley to David Milch to David Simon — the guy basically changed the form of storytelling on TV, character-centric storytelling. Carlton and I went to a panel at ComicCon this year that was Peter Jackson and James Cameron and one of the things that really struck me personally was, here are two guys that are willing to commit six or seven years of their lives to just one thing. Peter Jackson did it with the Lord of the Rings trilogy; Cameron does it every time he makes a movie.

So the idea that we were inspired by, you know, we saw this thing through. We were there in the beginning of Lost, we’re going to write the last episode. There have been a lot of times when we had very tempting offers to go off and do other stuff or leave the show and leave it in the hands of others, but the ideas we’ve committed this chunk of our lives to — this show is something that was inspired by guys like that.

Oh, yeah - I'm still really pissed off about THIS.