The cult of TV brilliance, like a runner on third with less than two outs, demands sacrifice. What unites classic, obsessed-over shows like Freaks and Geeks, Undeclared, and Arrested Development isn't just their sparkling dialogue; it's their martyrdom. All three were shows that had plenty of time to be great but not nearly enough to disappoint. The unrealized promise of all the jokes and seasons we, as fans, were denied helps prop up the legend and maintain the purity of the sect. It's not enough to love the episodes we did get; one must also burn with resentment for all the ones we were denied. Like James Dean, Kurt Cobain, or Four Loko, the most fiercely beloved TV shows tend to be the ones that died too soon.

But not 30 Rock. Despite ticking all the boxes for early cancellation — too smart, too funny, too New York (at least it wasn't burdened with Justin Bartha) — 30 Rock is the rare cult show that survived. No — it thrived. For seven seasons it churned out brilliant jokes with the efficacy and precision of a finely calibrated fart machine. It invented holidays and catchphrases. It tangled bravely with race and ludicrously with celebrity. Snakes were tamed and sharks were loosed. Ghostface Killah rapped about muffins. Muppets sang at a funeral. At its worst it was good. At its best it was transcendent. It's not enough to say that 30 Rock didn't die. Its whole life was thunder.

In this golden age of television, there sometimes enters a character who shifts all former expectations; a small-screen presence who shines through the flimsy edifice we call a human body to reveal the truth: that we are just wriggling brain stems driven by our insane lusts. Television has long been supplanting the novel as the medium we turn to for long-form narrative investigations into public personas and true selves, and among its gallery of modern antiheroes, one complex yet subtle figure stands alone: Jenna Maroney. Jenna (pronounced Jenn-ahh) was 30 Rock's secret weapon in a show stocked with them. Jane Krakowski, formerly known best for playing ditzy Elaine on Ally McBeal, summoned everything from her lifetime walking the boards for her portrayal of Jenna: the ultimate actress.