Lost - Blog Posts
The Jack Monster and The Smoke Mother
In yesterday’s article, I mentioned in passing that Jack turns into the Smoke Monster. This bit didn’t seem to fit the conceit of the piece, but apparently I should have included it, because everyone’s asking about it. I’ve added it into the article in an addendum, and I’m putting it here as well. I’ll try to keep it “brief” and “simple”, citing only information we were given in the show.
The Mother was the Protector of the Island.
The Mother explained to her sons that going into The Source would result in a fate worse than death (i.e.- Becoming a Smoke Monster).
The Mother destroyed the Man in Black’s village in a most Smoke Monstery of ways, seen here:
What I’m getting at here is that, as Protector of the Island, Mother both had the powers of Jacob, and was a Smoke Monster. She split her duties and powers between her two sons, and made it so they could not kill each other. It would make sense that the Protector of Important Magic Island would be the incredibly powerful cloud of black smoke that can read people’s memories and kill them in seconds. Rousseau was right: The black smoke IS a security system. A very important one, meant to patrol the Island and protect it for as long as it can. Mother was this being, and she also had the power of Jacob: to make rules, to give others abilities, etc. Full-on Island Protector.
But she couldn’t decide which was deserving of the role. She loved them both. So she made it so each would get a part of her. The Gray Mother split herself into dark and light. The problem here is that The Man in Black became the Smoke Monster. He became a security system that wanted to leave its post. That was problem with the Broken Island for so long: One of its protectors had no interest in protecting anything. Both protectors wanted the other dead, but neither could kill the other. Thankfully, Oceanic 815 crashed and Jack was eventually all “Fine, I’ll save the world.”
So. How are Smoke Monsters made? They dip themselves into The Source. Into the Water and Light. Jacob tossed his Brother down and then his Brother cracked his skull, fell into The Source, and emerged as the new Smoke Monster. Later, Jacob found his body draped over a nearby rock and tree:
The Water and Light absorbs the essence of a person and turns them into a Smoke Monster. But they don’t need the person’s body. So The Source moved the body outside.
So what happened to Jack in the finale? He went down to The Source. Desmond unplugged the Island and was unaffected because of his Magic Time Brain. Jack had to plug it up again, though, and the Water and Light DID affect him. He sacrificed himself because he knew the Water and Light would kill him.
But the Water and Light doesn’t kill you. We’ve SEEN what it does. It turns someone into a Smoke Monster, into a Protector of The Island. The person needs to be dead, though, as The Man In Black was dead when he reached The Source. Then it spits out the body. So after Jack was consumed by Light and Water, where did we next see him?
The same place The Man In Black showed up. (Forgive the quality of the picture, I just screencapped an edited montage from YouTube).
The Source spit Jack out once it absorbed his essence for Smoke Monstering. But Jack wasn’t dead yet. He was stabbed and bleeding, but not dead yet. Not like the Man in Black already was when he fell into The Source. So Jack walked into the reeds, lied down with a dog, and died. His eye closed.
Then, however many yards away, a new Smoke Monster burst from The Source. And this time, it was a Security System thatwantedto stay. One that even needed to stay. Jack’s whole arc of the show ended with himneedingto stay on the Island and to do whatever he could to protect it. He believed in the Island, and he believed that he belonged there. Now he was even more correct than he thought. Jack could now happily float around in his new form, helping Hurley clean up Jacob’s mess, and protect the Island he loved, in the form of something he once feared. He did this for many many years, until Hurley’s reign ended and they could both pass off their power and position to Walt, the next true Protector of The Island.
Now let’s go to the Sideways, where Jack keptalmostremembering his life. Every other character had one moment when they remembered everything that ever happened to them. Jack, on the other hand, needed several. A moment with Locke, a moment with Kate. He kept not quite being able to remember. Now, one could argue that this is just because he’s Jack. He’s stubborn and resistant, and just needed a while. However, he wasn’t that way in the Sideways. That was one of the main points in that world. Everyone had evolved and grown in their lives, and they displayed the traits they’d developed in their time on the Island. Sideways Jack was not as stubborn as Real Life Jack.
SO. What’s my point? Jack spent we-don’t-know-how-long as a Smoke Monster on the Island. It could have been years or decades or centuries. Hurley lived a life just as long, but he never changed forms. Hurley remained himself. Jack, however, was Smoke Monster Jack. We saw what being a Smoke Monster can do to a person. As Mother said, it can be “worse than death”. You lose some of yourself. You take the form of other people, you float around asblack smoke. Yes, its essence is you, but much of you is lost over the years.
Jack needed those extra pushes in the Sideways world, because he was so far away from it. He spent his life as Jack, but then he spent X amount of years as another entity. He lost a bit of himself, and each time Locke or Kate touched him in the Sideways, he got a little closer to remembering his life before the Smoke. He needed a drastic wake-up call like his father explaining everything to him in order to truly wake up from his life.
Me trying to write stories ROMAN SANDERS EDITION
(Now including drawn picture also made by me ( ´•̥̥̥ω•̥̥̥` ))
Me trying to write stories ROMAN SANDERS EDITION
1193 words and counting. Trigger-Warning slight alluding to self-harm +negative thoughts.
That wasn’t that bad Roman tried to convince himself. He’d been through way worse right . . .? Wait was that considered a good thing. He brought his hands to his head. It had begun agonizingly pounding earlier in the day and he could feel the pressure in his ears akin to something like a buzzing sound had begun making its presence known. He felt sluggish and lethargicness crept upon him. Surely they hadn’t meant it that way. Not like their intend was hurting him. So why did he feel so . . so hurt. It was like a piece inside of him was broken off. The piece that carried all his confidence. His admittedly now feeling false bravery. The bravado that helped him conquer his less then awesome feelings. He heard creaking footsteps up the stairs and some soft whispered goodnights.
The mind palace fell empty on sound as its residents started heading to their respective beds. I should probably get some shut eye too thought Roman as he looked around his room. He hadn’t had the time or to be honest motivation to clean it up for a while now. His energy seemed to have wounded down a lot lately. He would put it down to the amount of videos they had been making. But truthfully he wasn’t very much present in them at all let alone having his ideas represented as anything less than annoying. He twirled his messy hair in between his fingers, twiddling his thumbs while rocking back and forth a bit. The silence that now protruded the vacant mind surroundings made the whining in his ears stand out all the more. He grabbed his temple and began rubbing circles on his forehead. He didn’t want things to be this way. It all felt so complicated. And like his incompetence was already making everybody uncomfortable enough. Without highlighting all his other flaws. Normally he loved the spotlight but now it made him itch.
The thought alone made him have trouble breathing. He should be more put together. How could he dream of having a grand live on the stage if he couldn’t even stand a meager spotlight. He felt woozy had his room always been this of kilter, this . . dizzying. His vision blurred had he been crying this whole time. How long . . . he tried wiping away his tears as new ones grew in their places. The clock face on his nightstand was barely legible through mist his eyes produced. It read 02:10 AM. Had he really been rummaging through his hair and been sat thinking here for this long. SHIT- Logan had a schedule he wanted to keep and he didn’t want to be tired and late for the morning meetings. Ouch . . .his head stung if it wasn’t for him feeling immobile he would have moved to pick up some painkillers for his worsening headache. Then again he didn’t wanna wake up the others by making too much sound going to find it in the cabinets below. He’d been warned before about being too noisy and off-putting when trying to practice his favorite musical songs. Keep it down Logan had yelled. Yeah will you can it with your sappy bullshit his mustachy brother had added. He’d tried whisper singing ever since. It didn’t have that much flare to it, but if it made them happier he’d be glad to be of their backs.
The inside of his head felt as if someone had knocked his brain around quite a few times. Cut all its supports out and the remaining short-circuiting heap had been set on fire as some sort of twisted fun added bonus. He sniffled rubbing the underside of his nose and eye sockets. He probably deserved it. The way he’d been performing lately was about as garbage as he felt. The clock face blinked 03:00 AM it read. No, no NO . . . this had to stop. He wasn’t even supposed to stay up again. He was exhausted it took longer than he wanted to admit to come up with his sup-par ideas as it was. He didn’t need to create more problems for himself and everyone around him. He slammed down his fist against his carpet and then recoiled in shock as he remembered he shouldn’t produce sounds this late into the night. Frustrated he dug his nails into his palm and bit on his knuckles as he closed his arms around himself. His knees seemed to tremble a bit, he noticed as he looked down. Was this the self-soothing Virgil had talked about. It didn’t seem that soothing to him.
He looked at his fingers they were cold and absent of colour apart from the stained ink and the numerous papercuts on them. He’d really been trying. It might have looked easy from the outside but ‘’It was all a Ruse’’. As Deceit would so say. More and more often he felt that it was all just too much and that balancing it was getting more impossible as it became harder to smile to himself in the mirror. What had been the last time he’d truly felt accomplished. Like he got his stuff together or at least made it look presentable enough to fool everyone. His heavy eyelids started to droop over his glossy dry red tear stained eyes until they shot up to look at his calendar.
Crap.
He’d forgot. He was so busy being fucking sorry for himself that he’d missed the big red circled due date of the upcoming script. If something had to pull him over the edge this was it he’d reached his limits. And felt surrounded. He started drawing panicked breaths heaving over on himself. He didn’t know what pounded harder his head or his chest. They were gonna be so mad at him or worse they'd be staring on in drooping disappointment as he would stand there ashamed in the corner , uneasy shuffling his feet. Patton would throw out a halfhearted it’s okay kiddo. With Thomas sighing looking away as Logan crumpled his paper up and muttered something about no respect for a proper schedule in the background, again having to adjust each and every detail in his already busily packed important planning scheme. If this was only a mild version of a so called panic attack that he’d had explained to him by Virgil. He couldn’t imagine what a full blown one must have actually felt like. He felt so sorry for the dude. How could he ever manage to put on any sense of composure if he had to have these on an at least a monthly basis. the walls felt like the were eerily closing in on him. He wanted to scream to cry out for help but only a meekly weak sob would be forced out of his throat that as the shadows in the corners of his narrowed eyes started to crop up and he lost his already faltering vision to the black surrounding his corneas. His body sunk to the ground like a melted puddle.
A loud Thud-was heard as his head slammed against the floor.
some men from Lost i really like
Mood 10:02 pm