There are certain things you’re supposed to do in a season finale, at least when you’re making an hour-long, prime-time drama that isn’t a procedural crime show (there’s your overly-qualified statement of the day). You’re supposed to wrap up your major story arcs as neatly as possible, answer the nagging questions the audience has been asking, and give hints of a few new plot threads for next season. And don’t forget to end the episode on a cliffhanger.

Lost’s season finale did none of that. It did resolve a couple of minor plot points (whose comic book was Walt reading? What’s the baby’s name?), and for that, we should be thankful, because only a few of the program’s many, many major questions were answered, and without fail, they were answered with more questions. For those who like their season finales to be, well, final, the episode was probably unsatisfying. For my money, though, it was indicative of the season as a whole. Like some kind of crazy antimatter-fueled spaceship, Lost gets its energy not from plot or character development (although it has plenty of both), but from all the things that aren’t there; namely, answers. As with The X-Files, the truth is out there, but deep down inside, we don’t really want the truth, we really like the not knowing. Or at least I do. And even if I didn’t, it’d be hard to stop watching a show with so many pretty people on it.

Of course, since it looks like Lost and Veronica Mars will be scheduled opposite each other next season, I’m going to have to make some difficult decisions about which ongoing mysteries I follow. Unless I get a second TiVo or something. Not that I would go to those sorts of extremes.