30 Rock and The Office are both ending this season, the former in just six days, the latter in four months. As a result, NBC's once-proud Thursday-night comedy lineup has shifted from triage to hospice care. A sense of finality looms large over all four of the current shows. My sense is that Parks and Recreation is still likely to get a final half-season or so to wrap things up — it's owned by NBC/Universal and an extra 13 or so would goose the total closer to a syndication-friendly 100 — but it feels like showrunner Mike Schur isn't taking any chances. Last week's bachelor party episode crammed in cameos from two Indianapolis Colts, the team owner, and a former Speaker of the House, all while planning for the biggest wedding Pawnee's seen since the first Malwae married the widow Tweep. It may not be the end, but, like Ron Swanson at a pricey steakhouse, Parks isn't leaving anything on the table. As for the wretched 1600 Penn? Well, everything about that overbaked butterball feels downright apocalyptic to me.

Every week in this space, Grantland’s Andy Greenwald will run down the happenings and mishappenings in NBC’s Thursday comedy night done mostly right. (Note: The order reflects newsworthiness, not quality. Although occasionally the two just might overlap.)

1. Parks and Recreation

The normal metric for holiday behavior is, as Jim Halpert correctly argued last night, naughty or nice. But in terms of sitcoms, Dwight's Teutonic table might work even better: Do we prefer our comedies to be impish or admirable? Particularly at this time of year, when the tendency to sweeten the eggnog — or at least avoid the fat-free kind — can be overwhelming. For Parks and Rec, this balance isn't limited to December: The only time this most likable of shows stumbles is when its characters end up liking each other so much it muffles the conflict in a miasma of nondenominational good cheer. So it was particularly rewarding to discover that the excellent "Ron and Diane," as written by Aisha Muharrar and Megan Amram, celebrated Krampus far more than jolly old St. Nick.

Every week in this space, Grantland’s Andy Greenwald will run down the happenings and mishappenings in NBC’s Thursday comedy night done mostly right. (Note: The order reflects newsworthiness, not quality. Although occasionally the two just might overlap.)

1. 30 Rock

In the end, it seems, Liz Lemon really could have it all. The respectful relationship, the professional success, the wind-battered face of a New England cod fisherman. Proving herself, society, and Anne-Marie Slaughter wrong, last night Liz married Criss Chros, her marzipan candy man. The ceremony, held at midday in City Hall, was a typically Liz affair: Dennis Duffy brown-bagging (and black-sonning) it in the corner, a tuxedoed Jack Donaghy reading Ayn Rand, Tony Bennett. It was the lovely capper to a remarkably warm and generous episode of 30 Rock, a sitcom that usually follows its cartoony muse down some prickly rabbit holes, but last night showed real heart. (The only echo of that Seinfeldian fealty to the joke above all else was with poor Shanice: Not only would Criss not sit on her hand, she'll spend the rest of her life unmarried, working in the chapel.) "Mazel Tov, Dummies," written by Tracey Wigfield, but with Tina Fey's Pringles-stained fingerprints all over it, was a celebration of idiosyncrasy all around. From Tracy's embrace of recklessness to Jack and Jenna's grappling with their true value, the episode suggested that happiness is always possible. It just depends on whose rules you're playing by.

Every week in this space, Grantland’s Andy Greenwald will run down the happenings and mishappenings in NBC’s Thursday comedy night done mostly right. (Note: The order reflects newsworthiness, not quality. Although occasionally the two just might overlap.)

1. The Office

Every week in this space, Grantland’s Andy Greenwald will run down the happenings and mishappenings in NBC’s Thursday comedy night done mostly right. (Note: The order reflects newsworthiness, not quality. Although occasionally the two just might overlap.)

1. Parks and Recreation

Watching NBC on Thursday nights in the fall of 2012 can be a dispiriting, depressing experience. The lights are flickering and there’s a chill in the air. From week to week, you never know who’s going to show up, old friends or those annoying neighbors from down the block. Once the crown jewel of a proud network, Thursdays have fallen into deep disrepair. Worse than disrepair, actually: disregard. If it were physically and morally possible to broadcast nothing but the The Voice five nights a week, interspersed only with union-mandated feeding breaks for the talent (Christina Aguilera prefers the mango-flavored peacock gruel) and action shots of Matthew Perry firing crossbows with the cast of Revolution, network president Bob Greenblatt would do it in a heartbeat. Faster, actually. Those heartwarming Whitney promos aren’t going to produce themselves.

Every week in this space, Grantland’s Andy Greenwald will run down the happenings and mishappenings in NBC’s Thursday comedy night done mostly right. (Note: The order reflects newsworthiness, not quality. Although occasionally the two just might overlap.)

1. Parks and Recreation

Last week, I led this piece by suggesting that “all great comedies are at least a little bit serious.” Now, I’d like to take it one step further: Sometimes the best parts of comedies are the moments that aren’t funny at all. The trend in modern sitcoms is to speed everything up: more jokes, more references, less time to catch your breath. But the old-fashioned Parks has always appreciated the value of the slow build, the pause, the very human need to inhale oxygen before LOL-ing it out with glee. As Claude Debussy — himself a huge fan of Cheers — once put it: “Music is the space between the notes.”

Every week in this space, Grantland’s Andy Greenwald will run down the happenings and mishappenings in NBC’s Thursday comedy night done mostly right. (Note: The order reflects newsworthiness, not quality. Although occasionally the two just might overlap.)

1. 30 Rock

All truly great comedies are at least a little bit serious. It’s a delicate, delightful balance to mix purely goofy laughs with those that resonate on a deeper, Homer Simpson–y level. In the past few years, as 30 Rock has pushed its jokes-per-minute ratio to nearly unheard-of proportions — in our recent podcast, former staffer Kay Cannon talked about how her job went from two jokes per page to a joke every line — it’s been easier to overlook the sharp satire lurking behind all the silliness. But the archly brilliant, Tina Fey–scripted “Stride of Pride” proved that, just like Jenna doing Kegels and thinking, it’s more than possible to do two challenging things at the same damn time — and look awfully good in the process.

Every week in this space, Grantland’s Andy Greenwald will run down the happenings and mishappenings in NBC’s Thursday comedy night done mostly right. (Note: The order reflects newsworthiness, not quality. Although occasionally the two just might overlap.)

1. 30 Rock

If the mere sight of a spreadsheet can open Liz Lemon’s boneyard to any and all approaching dump-truck traffic, imagine what the whiteboard in the writers' room for last night’s episode of 30 Rock could accomplish. “Governor Dunston,” written and directed by co-showrunner Robert Carlock, flooded the zone like the American heroes of BP, packing nearly as much story into its 22 minutes as jokes. What resulted was a choppy, overstuffed–like–Bob Dunston–at–a–BBQ half hour. The humor was as pedigreed as the guest stars. But it would take a lot more than Criss and Liz’s sex paper clips to hang it all together.

Every week in this space, Grantland’s Andy Greenwald will run down the happenings and mishappenings in NBC’s Thursday comedy night done mostly right. (Note: The order reflects newsworthiness, not quality. Although occasionally the two just might overlap.)

1. 30 Rock

A few days ago I recorded a podcast with Warren Littlefield, the former entertainment president of NBC and the man who, in the '90s, oversaw the last great era of Must See TV. The pod will be posted in a few weeks, but one thing he said seemed particularly relevant to last night’s slate. While Warren agreed that The Office, in its prime, was a worthy successor to Cheers and Seinfeld as the 9 p.m. “tentpole” of a night of sophisticated comedies, he used another term to describe the fringier pleasures of shows like Community and 30 Rock: “velvet rope.” He was in no way disparaging the quality of either series, just pointing out that both maintain an air of exclusivity to their humor, that life in a boring yet familial workplace might prove slightly more universal and relatable than, say, the continuing adventures of a man who transports a pregnant snake in a casserole dish. The television landscape may have changed radically since Warren was in charge, but the mission remains the same for current topper Bob Greenblatt: Expand the audience, don't limit it.

Every week in this space, Grantland’s Andy Greenwald will run down the happenings and mishappenings in NBC’s Thursday comedy night done mostly right. (Note: The order reflects newsworthiness, not quality. Although occasionally the two just might overlap.)

1. The Office

As if powered by a Pawnee-esque serving of Dwight’s vomitous blue energy drink, the momentum of last week’s final-season premiere carried through last night’s cold open. The quick degradation of the chore wheel into a much more exciting fun wheel (cue Erin sound effect) was everything that was and is still delightful about The Office: a gaggle of brightly drawn, warmly familiar characters elevating the mundane into absurdist glee. (Who would mind scrubbing the toilets if a tiny piece of circular cardboard commands it?)

Every week in this space, Grantland’s Andy Greenwald will run down the happenings and mishappenings in NBC’s Thursday comedy night done mostly right. (Note: The order reflects newsworthiness, not quality. Although occasionally the two just might overlap.)

When this column launched one year ago, the intent was both to celebrate and chronicle the ill health of a beloved institution. NBC’s Thursday-night comedy block had gone from Must See to Might See to Mercy! in just a few short years, its ratings decline in perfect alignment with the overall fortunes of its parent network. Yet at the same time, the quality of the shows had never been higher: In the preening Peacock glory years of the ‘80s (Family Ties, The Cosby Show, Cheers) and the ‘90s (Friends, Mad About You, Seinfeld), there was always the 9:30 black hole, a rotating placeholder for room-temperature turkeys like Grand, The Single Guy and Veronica’s Closet. In contrast, the lineup in 2009 and 2010 was stacked top to bottom, a simpatico salsa of cleverness, quirk, and the familial warmth that historically has separated NBC’s best comedies from those of its competitors. There’s a legitimate case to be made that Community, Parks and Recreation, The Office, and 30 Rock, taken as a whole and in their primes, might be the best Thursday-night lineup ever fielded. (Note: This definitely depends on your feelings about Night Court.) It’s too bad no one was watching to agree.

1. Community

When this column began, eight long Whitney-filled months ago, it did so with a simple goal: to test the hypothesis that the inherent personality traits of prisoners and guards are the chief cause of abusive behavior in prison. Er, no. That’s not right. It was to trace the evolution of both NBC’s hallowed Thursday-night comedy lineup and the shows that populated it. If anything, the only constant has been inconsistency: Six different sitcoms have aired all or part of their seasons on Thursdays. For much of the year, NBC head Bob Greenblatt seemed unsure what to do with network real estate that had slipped so precipitously from prime to subprime to foreclosed McMansion on the outskirts of Tampa. In the fall, he attempted to goose what had become an urbane and complementary night of single-camera comedy with the wet-willie snarkcasm of Whitney. When the few remaining viewers reacted as if Greenblatt had spiked their Sauvignon Blanc with Zima, he quickly plugged the hole with the more brand-friendly Up All Night and then, mercifully, threw out the baby and the bathwater. The final weeks of the season were a muddled mess, replete with double-dips and burn-offs of remaining episodes (not that anyone is counting, but I know at least one guy who hasn’t had a rerun-filled off night in almost three months), but Thursdays did end up where they probably should have begun, with the Core Four: Community, 30 Rock, The Office, and Parks and Recreation.

Every week in this space, Grantland pop culture correspondent Andy Greenwald will run down the happenings and mishappenings in NBC’s Thursday comedy night done mostly right. (Note: the order reflects newsworthiness, not quality. Although occasionally the two just might overlap.)

1. The Office

Last night, Andy Bernard debased himself to an absurd degree, begging for a temp gig unflushing the toilets, gargling with bourbon, and lapping up spilled soup from his sleeve. It was all part of an elaborate ruse, of course: Underneath the soiled sanitation onesie was a slick black suit. What Andy wanted was a dramatic moment, a big reveal that would take him from, in his words, “zero to hero” and leave everyone laughing – both at his clever trick and at themselves for ever doubting him in the first place. New York Magazine critic Matt Zoller Seitz has mused that much of this near-catastrophic eighth season of The Office has been meta-storytelling the likes of which we’ve never seen on an NBC Thursday night. (In fairness to Seitz, he wrote the piece before seeing last night’s Community, in which the study group was convinced the past three seasons had been a shared hallucination because their actual adventures were far too crazy to be real. The only thing that could top that would be if Marshall McLuhan suddenly tapped me on the shoulder and said, “You know nothing about how to joke about me in your work.” And he’s got a point: We’ve had 24 episodes about a power vacuum from a show with a serious power vacuum. Last night’s season — not series — finale took it a step further. Andy’s grubby quick-change act was a clumsy metaphor for NBC itself.

Every week in this space, Grantland pop culture correspondent Andy Greenwald will run down the happenings and mishappenings in NBC’s Thursday comedy night done mostly right. (Note: The order reflects newsworthiness, not quality. Although occasionally the two just might overlap.)

1. Community

Could there be a more perfect metaphor for Community’s relentless, occasionally foolhardy individuality than the sight of Greendale students looting and pillaging the Subway franchise that arrived to save them? The well-buffed corporate façade is an on-screen reminder that, going by the ratings, Greendale’s popularity with the greater American viewing public is on the level of olives and onions. This clearly galls creator Dan Harmon. It’s a lame and visible tax levied on him for his intransigent strangeness. And so of course the staid sandwichery would bear the brunt of three years' worth of underdog frustration, its sneeze guards shattered under scrawny undergraduate fists, its turkey sandwiches ruined by the rogue actions of a study group going H.A.M.

Every week in this space Grantland pop culture correspondent Andy Greenwald will run down the happenings and mishappenings in NBC’s Thursday comedy night done mostly right. (Note: The order reflects newsworthiness, not quality. Although occasionally the two just might overlap.)

1. Parks and Recreation

Celebrities are usually the first to know when the party’s over. Call it an eighth sense in their tiny, perfectly formed brains — located just to the left of sight and slightly below cocaine tolerance and Thetan susceptibility — but as soon as a former hotspot begins to cool, the boldface names scatter in the wind like Trick Daddy. And yet, to tune into NBC last night was to see an abundance of riches (and the downright rich — Paul McCartney alone could write off Jack Donaghy’s Kouchtown debacle as vegan grocery expenses). Despite the thousands (and thousands, and thousands) of Thetan-addled words scribbled in this column since last fall about the Peacock’s cratering fortunes, it was striking to see just how starry Thursday nights on NBC still can be. And I wasn’t just gawking at the Who’s Who of Lorne Michaels’s Rolodex that showed up for a truly breathtaking live edition of 30 Rock. Seeing the night’s Core Four sitcoms back together made me appreciate just how stacked these ensembles are, chock-full of movie stars, Oscar winners, sneaky geniuses, and legendary assholes. NBC’s must see-or-be-seen Thursday may be facing foreclosure, but the talent appears willing to rage all night long.