After a near-unbearable day of studying for a Debtor-Creditor final that has forced me to reconsider what is important in my life, I thought there was no better time than the present to drop the first of two End of Year lists (the second, my music list which will certainly be better than Kelly’s and Nate’s, to follow after the conclusion of Thursday’s Business Associations exam, assuming I have any mind slash reason to live left). After the jump, I present my Television in 2007 list…

But, first, a disclaimer…I’m in school and have, you know, a life and all that, so inherently it’s impossible that I can make a totally comprehensive decision on what, exactly, were the best shows, out of all the shows that beam over the airwaves.  So, no, I may have left Ugly Betty off the list because I’ve never seen more than 30 seconds of it, and there are no reality programs on here because I’d rather suffocate on my own vomit than watch them. Still, I feel like a reasonably informed viewer, and - as such - feel like I am capable of dropping science on the subject.

 The Five Best Shows on Television in 2007

5. Flight of the Conchords - HBO’s legacy in 2007 will probably best be remembered as the swan song of the Sopranos, albeit a relatively lackluster final season (with the exception of the final moments, which I will go to my grave defending). But the channel’s finest moments of the year came courtesy of two New Zealanders (or is it New Zealandites?)  who took awkward television to new heights. Bret McKenzie and Jemaine Clement wiped the floor with Tenacious D in the musical-comedy department, and kicked out ten tremendous episodes about transplants to NYC forging a massively unsuccessful career in folk music. Moving from Gervais-style comedy to surrealistic musical interludes (among the best: “Part Time Model” and “If You’re Into It”), Conchords was the cult hit of the year (so much so that HBO wasted no time in granting it a second season).

4. It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia - Think Seinfeld with absolutely no moral barometer, Sunny came back for a season three after a good-faith bolster from its Danny Devito score. No, we never got a satisfactory answer to “is Frank Charlie’s father,” and no, the show may have lost a little of its steam from its first two pitch-perfect seasons. But we still got the dumpster baby, the gang suspecting Mac of being a serial killer, and Dennis continuing to show his eerie man-love for the music of Rick Astley. There’s no way in hell this show is for everyone, but for those in-the-loop, it doesn’t get much better.

3. Psych - On the very surface, it’s a concept that coughs “bad television” - detective show about man pretending to be psychic while eluding attitude of cranky police detective and navigating bumpy relationship with father. But Psych - now in its mid-season 2 hiatus (with new eps starting back up in January) - has proved a different beast, being consistently hilarious, and succeding largely on the strength of its cast.  James Roday and Dule Hill kill as the duo of pop-culture obsessed, fist-bumping guys slowly creeping into their 30’s as they play detective and riff for 40 seamless minutes a week. Extra props to Hill, who was great in The West Wing,  and is absolutely brilliant here (his jog across a tennis court alone should get this guy an Emmy nomination).

2. Lost - A good guess: half of the people who just read the word Lost  on a best-of list nodded enthusiastically, and the other half called me an idiot under their breath.  With all due respect to those who don’t like a brilliantly laid out mystery-drama that doesn’t give you easy answers at the end of each episode, Lost  has matured beautifully through three seasons on the air, and with a firm end-date in 2010, is now poised to roll out its storyline as it always intended. Yeah, sure, we all winced through the episode where we learned what Jack’s tattoos meant (note to writers: we didn’t give a shit in the first place), but when it was tucked in between Ben’s flashback, the steady unveiling of the Others, and Charlie’s finest hour, the small missteps of the show are entirely forgivable. It remains to be seen how the show’s flash forwards will fare, and with only 8 completed episodes due to the writer’s strike, we may end up with an abbreviated season 4 when it kicks back in this February. But with an approaching ship, Locke’s continuing spiritual quest, and Michael’s pending return just over the horizon, I’m completely sold.

1. Weeds - Showtime has had a bitch of a time living up to the now golden HBO standard, and finally starting catching up with the great Dexter hooking viewers to the channel. But it was their three year-old comedy about the ‘burbs that stole the show this year, as it hit its finest season yet and solidified Justin Kirk as a bona fide comedy god. Yes, the show - at its most basic premise - centers around a pot-dealing suburban mom, but as the show has progessed, its comedic focus has backed off off the weed jokes, and instead has been constructed as a farce about American culture, and the coping mechanisms of its citizens. Between Andy’s brief stint in the Army, Doug’s shameless abuse of elected office, and Mary-Kate Olsen as a weed-smoking Evangelical Christian, no show currently on television balances satire with paranoid reflection quite so well.

The Show That Took a Shit and Died

Heroes - Last May, when Heroes aired its first season finale, I watched with abject horror as Hiro dropped into feudal Japan, where he was quickly surrounded by samurai warriors. A few short months later, I got an even greater shock when I realized that the producers weren’t just screwing up one storyline, but every storyline it their arsenal. Creator Tim Kring recently apologized for his sophomore show’s slumping season, and vowed a creative resurgence. The only question is, with every new pre-strike episode aired, and no return date on the schedule, is anyone going to care when he finally ponies up?

Most Underappreciated Show

John From Cincinnati - There has never been, and will never be, another show like this on tv - EVER. Sure, at times it was maddening watching the trials and tribulations of the Yost family, and it certainly wasn’t what you could label an “easy watch.” But something about David Milch’s follow-up to Deadwood refuses to let you go even now, months after its finale and subsequent cancellation. Milch writes dialogue like Shakespeare on acid, and moves his eclectic cast around each frame like doomed little chess pieces, all the while giggling that he lured you in by promising you a show about surfing, while he was really feeding you a philosophy lesson about regret, betrayal, and redemption. It’s fate of being pulled from the airwaves was perhaps inevitable, but - just like Bill Jack’s little resurrecting cockatoo - John From Cincinnati really isn’t going anywhere.