In short, the third season finale may not have matched the intensity of Jack discovering that his lover killed his wife during the first season's finale, or the raw shock value of President Palmer being struck down from a biological attack during the second season's finale, but it did wrap things up adequately without too many gratuitous surprises.

OK, OK, there was that murderous outburst by Gael's wife. She was being debriefed at CTU when she spotted Saunders, the terrorist nimrod who killed her husband with his icky virus. Luckily for her, in addition to the Star Wars Action Figures and half-eaten banana moon pies she found in Gael's box of things, there was a nifty little gun, perfect for shooting evil terrorist guys in the chest!

But "24" wouldn't be the same without its fair share of silly surprises. And the biggest, silliest surprise of the season had to be the fact that viewers were forced to wait so long for the suspense to begin. The first half of the day, if you'll recall, was pretty much a wash. From 1 p.m. until 6 p.m., we were monkeying around with some punk named Kyle in Canoga Park whose only real draw was that he hung out with hot girls. From 6 p.m. until 2 a.m., we were stuck in Mexico with the Salazar brothers, a major detour that blurred into a sepia-toned mess of growled threats and lines drawn in the dust.

But then, just as many viewers were declaring the entire season a disaster, the writers came to their senses and everything changed for the better. The virus was released, panic set in, Michelle looked doomed, Gael bled from his orifices and Kim finally got dragged away by one of Saunders' henchmen. Ah, yes. This was the dark, sleazy entertainment we'd come to expect from Kiefer and Company! Even though Kim quickly shot her captor and Michelle escaped from both the virus and Saunders unscathed, the creators of "24" have always thrived on ruthlessness, whether they were killing off thousands of innocent bystanders, executing a friendless Ryan Chappelle, mercilessly slaying Sherry Palmer, lopping off half of Chase's arm, or sending Tiny away to rot in prison.

Questions still remain, of course. What will become of President Palmer, now that he's no longer running for reelection? What will Palmer do, aside from appearing in ads for Allstate? Will he and Jack really become bestest friends like he promised? Will Kim and Chase's love go sour when they're changing diapers instead of sneakily instant messaging each other all day long? And most important, why has Kim spent the entire season in a pantsuit?

Perhaps sensing the futility of another 24 hours of a blank-faced, blazer-clad Kim, producers of "24" announced last week that her character wouldn't be a regular next season, nor would Chase, Michelle or Tiny.

So what form will "24" take, without most of its regular cast, when it returns to our TVs next January?

We'll worry about that later. For now, let's take a minute to reflect -- and weep openly, if so moved -- over the most haphazard, thrillingly reckless season of any drama in recent memory. What can we make of this strange parable? Were Bauer's tears caused by exhaustion, dread or relief that it's all finally over? After an uneven season that ranged from brilliant to laughable, he may have been feeling all of the above -- we certainly are.

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