Glory to the Hypnotoad

Last Futurama movie. Moment of silence.

Then a tip of my metronome hat. My own imagineering skills are formidible. I have heartfelt respect for the work that's been done on this show.

Of all the people I've seen tackle television sci-fi, which is most of them, the Futurama writers have the highest per capita of excellent new ideas. Silly as their presentation may be, they've been many years ahead of the curve in conceptual architecture. Raw imagination is no small part of science fiction.

They've done some killer work with aliens. The episode where they invade the planet of bouncing orbs should be required viewing for any writer considering the subject of other lifeforms. It's probably the fastest and cleanest primer on non-human perspective anyone has ever penned.

"The elders tell of a young ball much like you. He bounced three metres in the air. Then he bounced one-point-eight metres in the air. Then he bounced four metres in the air. Do I make myself clear?"

Quite possibly the five greatest sentences of alien dialog ever conceived. I was, and remain, humbled.

Last, and most important, Futurama connected. Loveable, sympathetic, interesting characters are not one of science fiction's strongest suits. Very few people have ever bridged this chasm as well the Futurama crew. Virtually all their characters are steeped in fantastic organic moments by the time the series ends. The story of Fry's lost clover is a landmark for our genre on par with Picard's imagined family in The Inner Light.

I sincerely hope that Wild Green Yonder wasn't the end of Futurama.

If it was the end, then congratulations on a job well done.