I forcefully realized recently that the television series Lost in a very real way, is an apt metaphor for my language studies. Now, it is no mystery as to where I stand regarding Lost in relation to 24. However, I reserve the right to view it objectively and use it metaphorically to suit my cognitive enterprises (In a related note, I also reserve the right to intentionally split infinitives when speaking of it).
There is an abundance of theorizing and conjecturing among viewers regarding what is really happening on the show. Some say its a time-warp thing, some say they are in the Bermuda triangle, some say that they are in a "snow-globe." However, the second day of Hebrew class of this semester, I had an epiphany that revealed to me the true nature of this mysterious cinematic production:I AM LOST All of Lost is really in the mind of a Seminarian enrolled in Biblical Greek and Hebrew classes. Allow me to demonstrate:
The Island:
The characters on lost have found themselves on a mysterious Island after falling out of the sky in a violent plane crash. On this Island, there appear ghostly apparitions, strange happenings and utterly confounding events. It becomes clear very early that the Island itself is a character in this discombobulated saga. Characters speak of the "will of the Island," and sometimes submit to its "decrees," as they try to "appease" it. I know all too well that the Island of Semantic study that I now currently inhabit also has a will of its own. Needless to say, there are dire consequences when I attempt to rebuff its grasp on my soul. Something eerily "mysterious" is indeed happening on this island, and I am powerless to escape its gravitational pull. Yes, the Island has a way of "correcting itself" every time I side step my foreseen demise. There is evidence that this morphological malady has effected the fall of many a valiant warrior before my time. It appears, that the Island's work is not yet complete.
The Hatch: There have been moments of hope, when I had seemed to find a haven of escape from this place's relentless rascality. It appeared that I could use this "hatch" to open up a new world of exegetical possibilities. A place to escape the brutalities of my troubled sojourn here.
Yes, the parsing guide was supposed to be to me the golden boon of my valiant and epic endeavor. I would hold it close and abscond into its realm of security. Only a few simple questions and I could parse 98% of the Hebrew Bible. Things are now always what they seem. Alas, as the tenses, and verbal stems came and went, the list of questions grew longer and longer. Now critical decisions had to be made at every turn; Black and White blurred to gray. The jury is still out, but it initially appears that I have mistaken the "hatch" for Pandora's box. I'm currently calling all my strength to seal back down that lid.
The Others: There are also "others" on this island.
They are those that seem to be your friends, but then turn out to be enigmatic enemies. They slip into your camp unaware, and slither into the garden masquerading as an angel of light, and then they turn on you. Some of them call themselves "vowel points." They claim that the Masorites put them there to ensure correct interpretation and a full understanding of the text. But I am privy to their schemes. We have a jolly time when they appear on words by themselves. But then you add a prefix, a suffix, or a conjunction, and they scatter like rodents, rearrange themselves and dare you to decipher them. All of a sudden, what appeared to be a long vowel is now a short one. What was once a clearly discernible word now becomes a jumbled labyrinth of complexity.
The Lair of the Hebrew Monster: You knew this was coming. Yes, I've discovered the lair of the Hebrew Monster. He lives on the Island and derives his twisted energy from its mystic power cache of irregular verbs. This is his headquarters, his base camp, his launching pad, his tabernacle of terror. And, as he is not bound by the tenants of Nicene orthodoxy, he manifest himself in various modes of existence. Indeed, this modalist monstrosity has many forms. Sometimes he growls,
and sometimes he taunts,
but he is most certainly always deadly.
The Hebrew Monster knows in his heart that our colossal struggle is not over. He will not be able to smell fear on this semantic sojourner. O Hebrew Monster, I quake in fear before you know where you live, and I am running and hiding mounting my next major offensive as we speak.
At this point you're amazed at the cogency of the above argumentation. That is understandable. I know you didn't think that a final explanation would come for years, but I hope you will still watch the show, even though the riddle has been satisfactorily solved.
There is an abundance of theorizing and conjecturing among viewers regarding what is really happening on the show. Some say its a time-warp thing, some say they are in the Bermuda triangle, some say that they are in a "snow-globe." However, the second day of Hebrew class of this semester, I had an epiphany that revealed to me the true nature of this mysterious cinematic production:
The Island:
The characters on lost have found themselves on a mysterious Island after falling out of the sky in a violent plane crash. On this Island, there appear ghostly apparitions, strange happenings and utterly confounding events. It becomes clear very early that the Island itself is a character in this discombobulated saga. Characters speak of the "will of the Island," and sometimes submit to its "decrees," as they try to "appease" it. I know all too well that the Island of Semantic study that I now currently inhabit also has a will of its own. Needless to say, there are dire consequences when I attempt to rebuff its grasp on my soul. Something eerily "mysterious" is indeed happening on this island, and I am powerless to escape its gravitational pull. Yes, the Island has a way of "correcting itself" every time I side step my foreseen demise. There is evidence that this morphological malady has effected the fall of many a valiant warrior before my time. It appears, that the Island's work is not yet complete.The Hatch: There have been moments of hope, when I had seemed to find a haven of escape from this place's relentless rascality. It appeared that I could use this "hatch" to open up a new world of exegetical possibilities. A place to escape the brutalities of my troubled sojourn here.
Yes, the parsing guide was supposed to be to me the golden boon of my valiant and epic endeavor. I would hold it close and abscond into its realm of security. Only a few simple questions and I could parse 98% of the Hebrew Bible. Things are now always what they seem. Alas, as the tenses, and verbal stems came and went, the list of questions grew longer and longer. Now critical decisions had to be made at every turn; Black and White blurred to gray. The jury is still out, but it initially appears that I have mistaken the "hatch" for Pandora's box. I'm currently calling all my strength to seal back down that lid.The Others: There are also "others" on this island.
They are those that seem to be your friends, but then turn out to be enigmatic enemies. They slip into your camp unaware, and slither into the garden masquerading as an angel of light, and then they turn on you. Some of them call themselves "vowel points." They claim that the Masorites put them there to ensure correct interpretation and a full understanding of the text. But I am privy to their schemes. We have a jolly time when they appear on words by themselves. But then you add a prefix, a suffix, or a conjunction, and they scatter like rodents, rearrange themselves and dare you to decipher them. All of a sudden, what appeared to be a long vowel is now a short one. What was once a clearly discernible word now becomes a jumbled labyrinth of complexity.The Lair of the Hebrew Monster: You knew this was coming. Yes, I've discovered the lair of the Hebrew Monster. He lives on the Island and derives his twisted energy from its mystic power cache of irregular verbs. This is his headquarters, his base camp, his launching pad, his tabernacle of terror. And, as he is not bound by the tenants of Nicene orthodoxy, he manifest himself in various modes of existence. Indeed, this modalist monstrosity has many forms. Sometimes he growls,
and sometimes he taunts, but he is most certainly always deadly.The Hebrew Monster knows in his heart that our colossal struggle is not over. He will not be able to smell fear on this semantic sojourner. O Hebrew Monster, IAt this point you're amazed at the cogency of the above argumentation. That is understandable. I know you didn't think that a final explanation would come for years, but I hope you will still watch the show, even though the riddle has been satisfactorily solved.
related posts
Hebrew Monster
February 21, 2007
14
