That line is apparently what you get if you run the Clockwork Orange scene from last week's Lost backwards, and I tend to agree. The universe does not have a giant self-correcting mechanism that puts any sod who successfully avoids getting hit by a bus onto a collision course with another bus. There is no Final Destination mechanism in the clockworks. And my disagreement with this admittedly science-fiction-not-supposed-to-be-real conceit was what kept last night's Lost from being my Favourite Episode Ever, an episode that made me feel repeatedly like this.

Talk about Clockwork Orange! That kid is getting psyched out. And so was I, for a whole lot of that very strange and rather surprisingly well-distinguished episode; I admire the breaks with form, and I admire the different direction for the science fiction underpining, and I admire Desmond David Hume Henry Ian Cusick a whole lot. But I am somewhat irritated that a single week after proclaiming that I no longer care about the mysteries of Lost, I am given over to a new enigma. 'Tisn't fair.

Now, I'm not sure if Batman #663 - featuring the much-needed return of Morrison after a 2-ish absence - is the best issue of all time or the worst. The CGI artwork is noxious at best, and the prose is so flat-out arrogant that I wanted to reach through the pages and punch Morrison in his stupid stupid face... but fuckin' hell, that thing evokes. It begins as a love letter to the Joker and ends as cybersex with insanity itself. Sweet, arbitrary insanity and its shimmering, poisonous hues. Vaguely magnificent.

New for the Tederick.com movie glossary: The Quantity vs. Killity Rule. This addresses the fact that a creature's killability varies inversely to the number of creatures present; one alien takes an entire film to kill, but twelve can be killed at a rate of approximately one every five minutes, while a hundred can be killed in a single two-minute firefight. Also applies to cave trolls, Uruk Hai, and, of course, zombies.