A while back I read about Alec Baldwin saying 30 Rock would end in this article (which I found through IMDB–on my Facebook feed! What a wonderful world…) Now, at first I didn’t take it too seriously because Alec Baldwin is sometimes an, ahem, diva? Mayhaps?

But then IMDB provided more stories on this, and it became clear that the end was indeed approaching. Even my friends started linking these various articles to me, knowing that 30 Rock is my all time favorite show, and, with this knowledge in mind, they approached me in a timid fashion, the same way a loving parent might tell someone their dog had been run over by a rogue zamboni. “Greg, I have something unfortunate to tell you. Now, I know this might be hard to hear, but — and please don’t resent me for this — 30 Rock… Well, 30 Rock is going to a better place: TV Show Heaven.” Yet, despite so many people thinking I would break down and weep openly over this, it actually made me happy.

Don’t misunderstand, I will indeed be sad to see the show leave, because despite the flak it’s received for not being as good the past 3 seasons as it was in season 3, it’s still had some truly wonderful bits. I mean, if you can watch episodes like “Anna Howard Shaw Day,” “Christmas Attack Zone,” or “The Tuxedo Begins” without feeling at least 5 moments of pure glee, I don’t even want to see your face anymore. Not. Ever. Again!

They just won’t stay dead!

The reason I’m happy, then, is — well, how do I put this kindly? I don’t want to see 30 Rock turn into the Simpsons. Or as I like to call them anymore, the Zombies.

Yet again, don’t misunderstand and murder me. I think The Simpsons was a great show in its prime, a show that was easily the best animated sitcom for years, and arguably the best show on air altogether. But the problem is, The Simpsons hasn’t been in its prime for over a decade.

From what I’ve seen, The Simpsons is still a fine show, and while if I watched most anything else and it was that quality I might just say, “Meh,” and continue watching it because I couldn’t muster up the enthusiasm to figure out how to use my remote control, the fact that the show I used to call my favorite is now completely average is incredibly disappointing. It’s like if Shakespeare spent the latter half of his life writing the 17th century equivalent to Transformers (though he might have been able to make that movie actually decent…)

“What lens flare on yonder horizon breaks? It is the east, and Optimus Prime is the sun.”

Ever since I was in high school, and I realized that maybe having things never end was indeed bad — especially if they seem to just meander on decently after being exceptional — I have come to the conclusion that television show-euthanasia might not be so bad. Imagine if you married someone, and 5 years in you realize you no longer like them that much, but they were, “Eh, you knowww, alright sometimes.” One (that is: me and your real overbearing mom) would hope that instead of living through this marriage forever because you were content with being married in some capacity–even if the relationships was mired in that murky area between “decent” and “terrible”–you would decide you deserve more. Because, gosh darn it, people like you!

Perhaps you could get divorced and pursue Feminist Ryan Gosling?

Hey Ryan

Okay that’s enough of that analogy.

Seeing 30 Rock end after seven seasons actually makes me happy, because I don’t want to see 60 year old Liz Lemon running around, complaining about how she will never get married or have children and also hinting at how she might indeed be a dude. I’m also pretty sure if Judah Friedlander had to maintain his role as Frank for 20 more years he would officially become the king of nightmares.