My review of the apparent season finale of Eleventh Hour’s first season, “Medea,” is up at Tor.com.

I thought it couldn’t possibly be the season ender, and then they started a new somethingsomething-week series in its time slot, so I guess that WAS the season ender and Eleventh Hour decided to go out with an episode that did not even have a science crime. It was a kidnapping. Period. Also, Agent Marley got shot in the ass with an arrow. Way to wrap it up with a bang, show!

Also, that was the picture released as promo for the season finale. They might as well have captioned it, “Dr. Rufus Sewell and The Great Googly must solve a kidnapping and rescue Agent Marley.”

For the next season of this show, here’s what I would like to see:

- A show that does not suck.

Think about that over the summer, okay, writers? I mean, either you go all the way with the frozen head thing and make this show the best camp on television, or you develop some actual characters over the break so that science crime is explored, not just solved. For you guys, maybe the frozen head thing is best.

My review of “Subway” is up at Tor.com.

I direct your attention to three moments:

- The moment when an FBI agent doesn’t think “happenstance” is a real word. Actual quote: “Happenstance? Is that even a word?” Does she have a concussion or something? It does, however, explain a lot about why he’s always telling her what a microscope does.

- The moment with Dr. Rufus in the booth, which made me smile, because it was the first futile glimmering of personality we have seen from him. I already miss it, since I know it will never come again, because that’s just how this show is.

- This week’s single mother gets to live! She does, however, get a Silkwood shower courtesy of Dr. Rufus. Can’t win ‘em all, single ladies!

So, in talking about the latest episode of Eleventh Hour over at Tor.com, I have decided that the showrunners have abandoned all other plot and character arcs simply to mess with me. When I mocked the weird make-out setup of hallucinating and needy Rufus, they sent me a third member of the team. When I complained about the obsession with motherhood, they send me a lady scientist who says things like, “I understand logic. I’m a scientist!”

You win this time, show. You win. [Pinter pause.] This time.

I would like, at some point, to sit down with Rufus for an interview wherein I ask him what he thought he was signing up for, and how he feels about it now. Did he really hear this pitch and dream of frowning absently into an electron microscope? Does he regret it now? (He had better regret it now.)

This show has GOT to be kidding.

I recap the episode at Tor.com as per usual. You will notice that there is yet ANOTHER mother figure.

It’s no mystery why they’re there, in general; mother figures have a built-in motivation, so they are a godsend for lazy TV writers since no one questions a mother’s desire to protect her kid. But seriously, the punishing of single mothers and the converse miraculous protection awarded to married mothers is going past self-parody to the point where it’s just insulting. When you know in the first thirty seconds that 1) this character must be pregnant because she’s a woman without a visible child and 2) that kid will survive because she was married, your show has a problem. For serious.

Also, you imply that mercury poisoning is easy to clean up as long as you take the mercury-filled fridges out of the water. I just, I mean, what…is WRONG with you?

Disclaimer: I don’t care about Valentine’s Day except that it gives me a chance to make a list post. I am the Switzerland of Valentine’s day. (Unless people ask me if I’m excited for my “name day,” and then I sigh, because seriously, that joke was old in fourth grade, it’s old now.)

- Michael Fassbender. You inexplicably turn me all caps, big guy. Can’t wait to see you in your disastrous Wuthering Heights next year.

- Star Fleet wallets. I am the bird! (God, did I ever leave the house as an adolescent? Don’t answer that.)

- Family and friends. Dear Mom, I love you so much. Sorry I’m not changing my name. Apologize to Grandma for me.

- Fassbender, my portable computer. It allows me to be rude in public whenever I want.

- My TV. It took away the dialogue track for this week’s Eleventh Hour. It was amazing. Graeme Revell, one of my favorite composers, gave me a little concert, and I got to see the worst arch-enemy arc in recent memory. See for yourself at Tor.com!

ETA: And I never have to watch another episode of Dollhouse now that I turned in my opinion piece to Fantasy, which makes this day practically Thanksgiving!