Since the day job launched a blog on telecom issues, I have confined my rants about such topics to that forum. This is a “gray area” kind of post. It’s not really policy related, but it touches on the Internet and video. I’m writing it here because it is not, in any way, the view of my employer.

At issue is a column by the Washington Post’s Rob Pegoraro about the recently announced TV Everywhere plan cable companies are pursuing. In his column Rob writes:

Yes, you read that right: To watch this new batch of TV shows online, you’d have to sign up for a traditional pay-TV plan.

The TV Everywhere idea has been a dream of some media people for the last few years; see, for instance, Mark Cuban’s defense of the idea. But I don’t get it. At all.

Well, my immediate thought is, “You’re right. You don’t get it.” But after that, words fail me.

First, Rob, this isn’t “a new batch of TV shows”. This is the content you’re already paying for, but you’re now allowed to view it online. In order to view Pay-TV online, you need to pay for Pay-TV. That’s sort of the whole point.

Pegoraro suggests that this is like requiring people to pay for a subscription to the Washington Post in order to take a college prep test course. Ummm… No. That’s not at all the same thing. TV everywhere is, however, the equivalent of saying, “If you want to eat your McDonald’s Happy Meal in the park, you still have to pay for the McDonald’s happy meal.”

Next, Pegoraro asserts that incredibly complicated things like “authentication” are way to difficult to comprehend or apply:

Set aside such operational issues as authentication (how do you verify that one person’s a Comcast/DirecTV/Fios/etc. customer and another is not?)…

Ummm… How do you know if someone is a Gmail user or not? Well, Rob, they’re called “accounts”. When you subscribe, they create one. They come with something called an “account number” or a “user name” and a “password”. When you want to access your service online, you type (that big flat thing in front of your monitor is called a keyboard) those pieces of information into a form, click “submit” and voila! You are authenticated.

Pegoraro, again:

If somebody wants to watch video online, let ‘em: Charge them a fee, make money off their attention through advertising–better yet, give people a choice between watching ads or paying for an ad-free experience. But don’t force them to sign up for an unrelated, non-Internet service.

Sure, because the “ad-supported” model is working so well for broadcasters and newspapers. Even YouTube (ad supported video) is projected to lose between $175 million and $470 million this year. Even TV advertising is a failing venture because people are skipping the commercials. Hollywood has begun writing the commercials directly into the script to stave off that practice. NBC recently announced that Jay Leno’s show in the fall will be “DVR-proof” to force advertising on the public.

Do such actions seem like the tactics of a business model that works?

So let’s take a business model that works (a hybrid ad/subscriber model) and force it to pursue a failing business model because you want content for free – content that may cost millions per episode to produce.

As for the comment that you are forcing someone “to sign up for an unrelated, non-Internet service”, that’s still ridiculous no matter how many times you repeat it. This isn’t a non-Internet service. It’s the same service you already subscribe to, you just have more ways to consume it now. However, if you want to consume it, you have to subscribe.

Finally, Pegoraro suggests that media companies should simply give up and make all their media available for free:

Repeat after me: Trying to introduce an artificial scarcity of easily-duplicated content on the Internet does not work. If you set up boundaries that make no sense to your customers, you will simply cede the field to bootleg redistribution of your work. Fighting this principle is like trying to push water uphill–with a broom.

Well, actually, Rob. Most cable content isn’t available online for free – even through bootleg. Some of the most popular shows on cable are HGTV’s design programs. I challenege you to go find a readily available bootleg source of them. Go ahead, I’ll wait…

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Back yet? What about ESPN sporting events? They’re all available for free elsewhere, right? No? What about NFL games? Surely the satellite guys give those away for free and you don’t need to subscribe to get the Sunday ticket, right? No? Hmmm… Well what about HBO’s programming. You can get Entourage episodes for free all over the net, right? Really? Only the old ones that have been released for sale well after the air date?

How can that be? How can people control such things? How can they possibly defeat the bootleg distribution of their work? Because they don’t make them available online for free? Perhaps.

The fact is, despite Rob’s characterization of Pay-TV as “easily-duplicated content”, it’s simply not true. Look at YouTube. The most popular video sharing site will disable the soundtrack to your video if the audio patterns in the file match copyrighted content. Sure. You could cruise BitTorrents looking for content. And many do. Those sites are constantly defending against their copyright violations and go out of business regardless of the legitimacy they claim (AllOfMP3.com, anyone?).

You can also find websites that show grainy, handicam captured versions of first-run films – often before they appear in theaters. But the quality sucks. Under Pegoraro’s theory, movie theaters should simply give up the fight and make all movies (regardless of the cost to produce and market them) open to the public at no cost on day one. Better yet, just close all the theaters and let people download the movies for free? Heck, the studio could easily make up those $30 million salaries and production budgets by displaying an ad for mortgage caluclators right along side the film, right?

But What About Jacob

Ok, so what if they don’t go with a completely unsatisfactory ending.

Let’s assume that the battle between good and evil, wrong and right, darkness and light, black and white, has a point. The season finale introduced a few things that we may need to reconcile.

It is clear that Jacob and company have been on the island a VERY long time. As the sailing vessel (I must assume it is The Black Rock), cruises along the coastline, our would be Johnny Cash (the man in black) asks Jacob if he brought them to the island and is still trying to prove him wrong.

This is where I dive into unknown territory to some extent. I am not a biblical scholar or a religious person by any strectch, so forgive me if I get some of this wrong.

Jacob and Esau were brothers. Jacob was the pious brother while Esau was not. When Rebekah and Jacob conspire to deceive Isaac and Jacob recieves Isaac’s blessings, Esau is angry and swears he’ll kill Jacob.

Let’s assume that the man in black will be revealed in the final season to be Esau. What is the detente that the two of them have respected? What is the “loophole”? Is the rule by which Esau is unable to murder Jacob similar to the accord between Ben and Whitmore? When the smoke monster spoke to Ben, was it Esau who commanded Ben to follow Locke’s every word? Is Esau the smoke monster? Did he kill Mr. Eko as a surrogate for his brother? Eko was, after all, now a pious man.

Are all the “visions” of the dead and or disappeared actually manifestations of Esau? Was it Esau who had kept Jacob locked in the cabin with the ring of ash to contain him?

If you view Jacob and Esau as somehow temporally unrestrained, they could be anywhere or anything. Jacob can clearly raise the dead with a touch of his hand, as he did with John. Can they assume other forms or be omnipresent?

Using the construct of Jacob and Esau, you could easily begin to make sense of many occurrences on the island. Just about everything that has happened and every vision could be explained away with these two playing an odd cat and mouse game to “test” humanity.

As they meet on the beach at the beginning of the finale, Esau says to Jacob, “It always ends the same.” It is clear that they have done all of this before. Did the crew of the Black Rock – like Danielle’s Party – come to distrust one another and kill each other off? Are “The Others” the sole survivors of each such iteration of the cycle of violence? Did they band together realizing that they were somehow a part of the island now? Did Whitmore come to the island as a soldier with the Jughead crew? Ben was the sole survivor of Dharma? Was that the common characteristic The Others shared at the beginning?

And what of Richard Alpert? Did he come to the island aboard the Black Rock? Or further back?

I can see a clear scenario where an island with abundant resources and strange healing powers would be paradise. But to borrow from The Matrix:

Did you know that the first Matrix was designed to be a perfect human world? Where none suffered, where everyone would be happy. It was a disaster. No one would accept the program, entire crops were lost. Some believed that we lacked the programming language to describe your perfect world. But I believe, that as a species, human beings define their reality though misery and suffering.

Perhaps the two brothers are running some sort of test to determine whether people can simply live together in paradise or whether they will, eventually, devolve into tribes and attack one another. Is the story of Lost simply a karmic test based on The Lord of the Flies? Could be.

It has been a few busy weeks and my Lost fascination has had to go on hold. Unfortunately, as with most things I approach with an “ignore it and it will go away” attitude, this one hasn’t. In fact, just the other night, I was shaken from a deep sleep by a dream in which I found myself a castaway on Lost Island. (For the record, I don’t normally dream about TV, so I took this as a sign that I had stuff I need to get off my chest.)

So let’s cast our mind back many weeks and dive in. To set the stage, I’ll refer you to a Doc Jensen column on Entertainment Weekly. If you haven’t read Jensen’s Lost theories, they’re really quite entertaining. The one I have linked hits a very critical point (to me at least) on page two.

I like the washed-out black and white sheen that’s been given to that classic Star Wars moment ‚Äî it gives it a certain old and damaged Orientation Film feel, specifically the one that the castaways found in the Hatch back in the third episode of season 2. As your (quack) doctor in Lostology, allow me to give you a piece of advice: Watch it again, as at least some of it has direct bearing on what is currently happening back in Dharma 1979 on Lost. (Note: This version does not include a short snippet of missing footage that was later found by Mr. Eko, which instructs Swan occupants to refrain from using the computer to communicate with the outside world.)

Note the following:

1. Dr. Candle’s left arm does not move during the entire film.
2. Dharma’s founders were a pair of University of Michigan scientists, Gerald and Karen DeGroot. An industrialist named Alvar Hanso funded their work.
3. Remember ‚Äî nay, MEMORIZE ‚Äî this line as if it were scripture: ”Not long after the experiments began, however, there was…an ‘incident’…and since that time, the following protocol has been observed…”
4. The copyright date on the film: 1980.
5. The year that The Empire Strikes Back was released: 1980.
   Point No. 5 probably has nothing to do with anything.

My colleague and friend Paul Rodriguez and I have spent way too many hours discussing Lost. In those discussions this season, we have spent a lot of time on time travel and the question of whether or not you can change the past. Faraday argues that you cannot, then changes his mind to argue that you can. Once he does, however, he repeats the past and warns Charlotte not to come back – which he clearly had already done, and it made no difference at all.

It is my contention that everything we have witnessed this year is a repeat of everything that came before. From the plane crashing to Juliet falling down the well and detonating Jughead, everything has happened before. I am a fervent believer in the Deja Vu theory of time travel. Everything that happened before will happen again.

Faraday, at least on his death bed, seems to understand this. As he lies bleeding, shot by his own mother, Daniel realizes that his mother might well have sent him off to the island knowing that earlier her was going to shoot Daniel. Under his theory of humans as great variables, the one possible variable he failed to account for is she may have known the past, and the present.

So let’s jump back to that video now. You’ll note the first item that Jensen mentions is Candle’s stiff arm. Now think back to the incident at the Swan construction site and the scaffolding that fell on him – landing on his arm. Between Daniel getting whacked by mom, and Candle coincidentally having an arm crusher followed three years later by the video, I have become a believer. My new religion? The more things change, the more they remain the same.

I don’t believe they have changed anything at all. I think the islanders have become a logic puzzle.

If I were stuck 30 years in the past, and had to find a way to change/affect the future. What would my first thought be? Great! Now I can immediately discard that one because I would have already done that 30 years earlier.

Changing time in the way our island buddies are trying to requires what can be described as branching time theory. As you move down the path of time, you can introduce a significant event (Jughead’s detonation) and alter the flow of the time stream. The course of time is altered and you can avoid some specific negative outcome.

However, the fact that our islanders are hung up circa 1977 demonstrates the fallacy of this theory. Instead, the islanders and their 1977 selves exist simultaneously. Their two times are clearly different tracks on the same loop.

In this way, time is more like a cable TV system. Traditionally on cable (though this is changing with OnDemand and Switched Digital Video) channels are being fed down the line all at once. You can choose which channel to watch, but the rest are still moving along at the same time. By changing the channel, you haven’t changed anything but your perception of what’s on at that moment. You have altered your exposure, but everything else exists the same way.

I believe the islanders will now perceive that they have done some good, and will carry out the remainder of their 1977 existence, but won’t actually achieve anything. In fact, I am going to lay a bet on the outcome of the series (I’m not giving long odds on this, just a speculation).

At the end of the series, we will see our “current” castaways fate resolved in some way or another, and the island will be going along as it always has. Our “series finale” cast will be preparing to board the flight from Australia to LA and will have some vague recollection of one another as they do. The flight will take off, and somewhere along the line we’ll see the plane lurch, the tail section go flying off, and the screen will cut to black.

In the end, we’ll realize that the entire circle is beginning again, and has probably been moving along in much the same way, forever.

If you haven’t yet seen the episode of Lost that just aired, you may want to stop reading right now, and come back later. Go ahead… This post will still be here when you’re done…

For the rest of you, you should digest my post from earlier today about Lost and the Infinite Improbability drive if you haven’t. I’m now more convinced than ever that improbability has a lot to do with the show. This post will expand on that earlier thought.

If you believe that the island could be a place where thoughts become reality and the improbable becomes certainty, this episode had a lot to offer.

As an example, Ms. Hawking talks about the Lighthouse station as a tool to determine “the probability” of where the island will be. So probability plays a significant role in determining the location of the island.

During the flight, Jack talks with Kate about the improbaility of Hurley and Sayid being on the same plane by coincidence.

What are the odds that Sayid would be cuffed to a law enforcement officer – the same way Kate was when the plane first crashed?

Who told Hurley to take the guitar on the plane (as Charlie did when they first crashed)?

How improbable was it that Jack would go visit his grandfather and find the pair of shoes belonging to his dad?

Finally, there’s the note. As Jack said, he kept trying to get rid of it, yet it kept returning – highly improbable to be sure. What was absolutely certain to happen, however, was Jack’s reaction to the note.

Locke knew that Jack, reading a note that said, “I wish you had believed me” would immediately think to himself “I wish I had too.”

Under the hybrid zero-point/improbability theory, that wish, in proximity to the island, would immediately be granted – though again, not in the way they expected.

Anyone who knows me will eventually get the question, “Do you watch Lost?” Sadly it has become my barometer for coolness. If you are still watching, you clearly have a penchant for the strange. That is, you are cool.

I, like others still tuned in week after week, are searching disparately for something to make sense of the show, and I have finally found a theory (or possibly a pair of complementary theories) that make sense of the show.

Oddly, the theory starts with my former barometer of cool – whether you have read Douglas Adams’ Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy trilogy (which despite the term trilogy now runs to five novels now with a sixth reportedly due later this year.)

The Hitchhiker’s Guide featured a spaceship called the Heart of Gold. The Heart of Gold operated on the Infinite Improbability Drive. The second book in the series, The Restaurant at the End of the Universe, describes it this way:

The Heart of Gold’s Improbability Drive made it the most powerful and unpredictable ship in existence. There was nothing it couldn’t do, provided you knew exactly how improbable it was that the thing you wanted it to do would ever happen.

When the improbability drive is operating, the spaceship passes through space based on the odds against something happening. As two of the books characters are drifting unprotected through open space, at the last moment before they die, the spaceship Heart of Gold picks them up. The odds against them being saved and the improbability field around the ship pass the same point of improbability and the two are rescued.

So what does this have to do with Lost? Well, the idea of the island as some sort of improbability field occurred to me as I was reading Doc Jensen’s theory of Lost and zero point energy.

There’s a whole bunch of Men of Faith ‚Äî fringe thinkers, mostly ‚Äî who believe that zero point energy is like magic. It can be mentally directed to make stuff happen (a.k.a. mind over matter), or even grant a kind of omniscience that could allow a person to experience past, present, and future all at once…

Remember the scene in this season’s second episode in which Neil (a.k.a. Frogurt) died? Now, I am convinced that this scene is actually a coded message pointing toward zero point theory. The scene begins with Miles Straume hauling in a dead boar. Then, Neil starts yelling at Sawyer for calling him Frogurt, emphatically reminding us that his name is Neil. Now, earlier in the episode, Neil carried on about the utter pointlessness of their survival struggle. Why work so hard to build a new camp or start a fire if the time flashes will basically take it all away? His cynical consternation reaches a crescendo in his death scene, when Neil rants about their inability to produce simple, conventional energy (”We have no fire!”) before getting killed by a flaming arrow of irony.

I actually saw that differently. I don’t see that as a flaming arrow of irony, I see it as a flaming arrow of improbability. As Neil is ranting about the absence of fire, the combination of zero point energy and improbability come together to provide fire, but not in the way Neil would like.

For other examples, you don’t need to look very far. In last week’s episode, Locke and the crew arrive at the Orchid station. Juliette says, ‘What are the odds this thing would be here at this time?’ A time shift immediately erases the station.

In season one, Walt is reading a comic book featuring attacking polar bears, and the crew walking to the radio tower the next day is attacked by a rampaging polar bear.

How about the odds the heroine addicted Charlie would stumble upon a heroine laden plane?

And don’t even get me started on the long odds against winning the lottery and Hurley’s connection to the numbers.

Could zero point energy and improbability create a field where whatever you thought, no matter how improbable, could blink into existence?

The theory isn’t without precedence in science fiction.

In his 1936 story Evolution, John Campbell described the Probability Time Wave:

“Their PTW tube caught and displayed every possibility that was ever to exist. And somewhere in that vast sweep of probability, every possible thing existed. Somewhere, the wildest dream of the wildest optimist was, and became fact.”

So what if the island is essentially a focal point for energy and improbability? It would certainly explain a lot of the oddities surrounding the island.

Jack’s unresolved feelings for dad? Bing! Christian Shepherd starts walking around the island. Michael wants to get his boy off the island? Done! He just needs to screw his friends first. The island is providing everything people want, but doing it with strings. You want fire? Ok! But it’s going to kill you.

Now this theory may cover the “funtional” aspects of the island, but it does not even begin to address questions about the storyline of Lost. However, I expect improbability to play an important part in the answer.