While I'm asking people for hands...

While I'm asking people for hands up, how many of you thought we might see either Brenda or the baby listed in the epitaph after the opening scene? OK, so maybe I'm more pessimistic than most. But jeez, did the doctor have to bury poor Brenda in discussions of the baby's potential cranial bleeding right off the bat? They really need to teach bedside manner in med school. And oh, for god's sake why is dead Nate in surgical scrubs? Here's another question: Anyone think David's really going to be less crazy after living with Ruth? Also, am I the only one who thinks David's dream, with its "We have met the enemy and he is us" moment, was nearly ruined with bad CGI? Fine. I'm going to organize my thoughts from here on this, the last episode, so that you fans can more easily blast me in an organized manner in your hate mail. (Yes, I get a bit of it.)
The good: As always, the acting and the scene-by-scene writing. This show boasts a first-rate cast that makes the material seem better even when the overall story arc gets on my nerves. No different this week. Everyone goes out with class, and who among you didn't get at least a small lump in the throat when they toasted Nate?
The bad: Dead Nate. Is he really appearing as a ghost? Just giving voice to Brenda's doubts? If it's the latter, which I've always kind of thought, then what makes him go from being such a tool to loving the new baby?
The ugly: That ending montage. Ridiculous. I actually laughed out loud when poor Keith, in the same crappy fogy makeup everyone else was sporting, took a fusillade in the chest. And I like Keith. He's always been the most decent, least self-involved character. David keeling over. Brenda keeling over. Rico keeling over. C'mon. The episode was good up to that point and would have bid the series farewell just fine if they'd stopped after the toast to Nate and Claire's goodbye. But, hey at least George and Maggie were spared silly deaths. And if it's one thing Six Feet Under's consistently shown us: The end is seldom one we'd choose, and it's never pretty.