Well, fine-AH-Leeee. New episode! Whoo hooo! And a banger at that. Obviously, someone behind the scenes has been through a few hundred billable hours of psychotherapy, because that lab explosion proved to be a total couch trip for Lex. And Chloe's right. He does have "one hell of a split personality." (By the way, LOVING her more and more.) Anyway, back to Baldy and his bad other self. Who knew he even had a darker side, huh? All along, I'm thinking Lexie's everyday behavior is poor form to the extreme and here comes this "Alexander" with Sean Penn's sense of humor and Ike Turner's temper. Michael Rosenbaum must still have pieces of the set stuck between his teeth from all the scenery he got to chew. Trying to mack on Lana, shooting Jonathan, using green meteor rocks to force Clark into being his Lap-dog of Steel — young Luthor's inner child needs a serious spanking, ya hears! And not the kind he gave his yummy fencing instructor. That was just spicy. This all just goes to show that playing with glowing space debris is bad, boys and girls. It makes genetically altered fruit taste rotten, it robs farm boys of their special powers and leads to all sorts of subtext-saturated chats between Clark, Lana and Chloe about keeping secrets from your loved ones. Which actually isn't such a bad thing, unless you're the one hiding in the Kryptonite Closet. Not that there's anything wrong with that, of course. — Damian J. Holbrook

I still don't understand why, if the desperately attention-seeking Walt could conjure up a bird and a polar bear just by looking at their images, nobody's drawn the boy a pic of a rescue plane or raft to get them heck out of there. A few more episodes down the line and we'll find out that the boy doesn't want to leave mystery island to head to the isle of Manhattan, but in the meantime, at least he could conjure up some wild boar or maybe a cow, or use Michael's pencil sketch of a birthday cake to bring some sugar to the survivors. Hurley, for one, would appreciate the food, or really any kind of supplies. After all, the big guy was the one who started the golf tournament for the last of the island's deodorant supply. Oh, and does anyone else think there's something spooky about Walt's dog, Vincent? I mean first off, what kind of name is Vincent for a dog? And second, instead of protecting his young master, he runs off at the first sign of danger. Something's fishy there. Oh, fish! Those are easy to draw. Now someone just needs to find some paper in the wreckage. Sawyer must have scrounged some up! — Angel Cohn

Whoa! The last thing this world needs is two Sloanes. But if anyone is up to the task of matching Ron Rifkin's creepy, untrustworthy character, it's Joel Grey. He was an amazingly evil demon trying to kill poor little Dawnie on Buffy, mischievously good as the Wizard in the Broadway musical Wicked and his painted emcee from the movie Cabaret still gives me the heebie-jeebies, though that last one is probably unintentional. But this new twist — having fake Sloane responsible for Vaughn's wild-goose chase and most likely the hit on Syd that led to Irina's death — should make for some interesting future episodes. Too bad this wasn't one of them. Sorry JJ et al. I love the series, but watching Vaughn kick butt while Sydney's stuck home just talking to people is about as exciting as watching paint dry. And I had to turn away during that funky sequence in the hospital basement. The red room made my eyes all squinty.

The only thing that really grabbed my attention was Katya's chocolate allergy. That's almost a fate worth than death. But her willingness to risk her life in order to get her niece to visit her? I don't trust that, and she's obviously taken guilt-trip lessons from an expert. But Sydney's big-sister act seems forced, as does her welcome-home hug to Vaughn. Guess that's the reason that costars shouldn't date. But Marshall sneaking around worried that Jack might keel over from the nuclear mutations? That actually seemed like some genuine emotion. — AC

American Idol
A whole hour, just to break my heart? Please Idol, take a tip from every idiot I've let do that to me before: the faster the better. I mean, even if Fox was trying to counterprogram NBC's Revelations, you can't really compete with the Apocalypse when Scott Savol's continued — and inexcusable — survival is obviously proof that the end is nigh. Who the hell does he have dirty pictures of at Fox? Seriously, he bit monster chunks Tuesday night and got lippy with Simon and still dodges the bullet? It's the Curse of Jasmine Trias! Making things worse, Bo wound up in the bottom three instead of Anwar. And you know I dig our music teacher, too. But Bogart kicks his can in the showmanship department. Just wrong. Plague-of-locusts wrong. Then again, so is Nadia's elimination at this stage of the competition. True, she wasn't going to win and yes, those were some funky faces she made while singing. But Mumbles McThuglife should have been sent packing before the Hair-Scare babe, if only for forcing that sinfully sucky Phil Collins song on us again. Now my blood sacrifice to the music gods is all for nuthin'. Honestly, I don't know if I can spare any more pints for Vonzell's sake next week, folks. So come on. Hook a brotha out and send that boy home, people! — DJH

(Can't get enough American Idol? Watch Kimberly Caldwell and Rosanna Tavarez dish about the show on Idol Chat, Thursdays at 8 pm/ET on TV Guide Channel.)

Let me start by saying that I am about as secular as they come. So this is just another TV show to me, folks. Which is as it should be, I think, critically speaking. That said, gee, you think the NBC folks were paying attention to Mel Gibson's The Passion of the Christ success? That might explain this Hail Mary (you can read that both in a prayer and a football sense) shot at pandering to the newly discovered religious audience, might it not?

I'll admit to being impressed early on with some of the creepy details — murderous Satanist Isaiah Haden snaps his fingers and stops airplane turbulence etc. — though I can't figure out why he and Dr. Massey (Bill Pullman) are on the same flight. But while I understand the advantages of casting pretty faces in lead roles, just once I'd like to see a big role for a nun who doesn't look as beautiful as Natascha McElhone. How about, for instance, one who looks like The Blues Brothers' Penguin?

Oh, wow — here's an odd development. It requires two lightning strikes to take out the little girl on the golf course? Like being blasted up into a tree after the first isn't being certain enough; better zap her back out of the branches just to make sure? (You think the Almighty wrote both shots down on his score card?)

"Doubt is healthy. I believe in doubt." says Sister Jo (McElhone). "Good, because I brought plenty with me," replies Dr. Massey. OK, people. My buddy-movie alert just went off. "Believe whatever you want to," Massey says later. "Or deny whatever you want to," counters Sister Jo. See? And talk about playing to a target audience. "It is they who are making a living out of this by cutting out her organs!" says Sister Jo, condemning the doctors who want to "harvest" the comatose girl's organs while they're still viable. Uh... am I the only who finds it just a tad heavy-handed to portray organ donation as some kind of ghoulish business venture?

But I suppose one could argue that turnabout's fair play. Churchgoers have had to watch their share of evil priests, preachers and whatnot in movies and on TV over the years. They also had to put up with Caleb on Buffy, not to mention The Flying Nun. Touch&#233... I guess. — Michael Peck

All those years of watching Scooby-Doo must have paid off, because I called the designer as the jet thief about 15 seconds after he was introduced. Did I deduce that he'd stolen the jet only to destroy it because he knew the carbon fiber he'd imported from China wouldn't pass a strength test? Uh, yeah. Sure I did! I just didn't want to tell you, so there. What I didn't call, however, was the water delivery boy's goober act. I just thought the actor playing Meg's buddy was going a little heavy on the Gilbert Grape, considering that Meg has more than a little bit of the goober in her. And I know we're only three episodes in, but am I the only one who thinks Meg's just-fell-off-a-turnip-truck act is beginning to wear a little thin? Let's have more of the sexy, savvy sleuthing. Get Trish more involved, and Jeff — hey, whatever happened to him after his resurrection? Is he still part of the team? And what about Trish's soon-to-be-ex, Danny? Shouldn't he be doing everything he can to destroy the two people who destroyed his marriage?

Speaking of loose threads, Harlan has a big secret stashed inside his living-room wall that could bury Clay Burgess for good. Twenty bucks says it's the Rambaldi device that went missing from Alias, and the secret code to the vault begins with 4, 8, 15, 16.... But seriously, what's Harlan waiting for? If Clay is so determined to destroy his company, but Harlan has the goods on him — where's the problem? Put the evil little man with the slicked-back hair in his place and blackmail him for all he's worth, Harlan. After all, that is your signature move, isn't it? Or is there something in that vault that would incriminate you as well? Hmmmm....

In case you missed it, the title of the episode is "Wings." The plot centers on a stolen airplane, Wings Hauser guest-stars as the man with the missing jet and, as we all know, Tim Daly staked his claim with a '90s sitcom about two brothers operating a one-plane commuter service, but I can't seem to recall the title... oh yeah, Wings. So how long before we see a guest appearance by Steven Weber? — Dan Roberts

Channel Surfing It's the best week ever for Brits. Britain's Prince Charles married his long-time lovah, Britney Spears is having her short-time hubby's baby and last week's lush Brittany came out on top on America's Next Top Model. Thankfully, that was before Tyra had a tiff with Tiffany. It was awesome to see her lose it; I just feel sorry for also-ousted Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm, who had to witness the supermodel's wrath. Guess that's just model behavior for you. But who else thought the girls were going to get Punk'd while they were dining at Ashton's Dolce?... Stacked is your everyday, ordinary, by-the-book sitcom that just so happens to star the sexy and well, stacked, Pamela Anderson. Good thing the former VIP is funny and has no problem with the self-deprecating humor, because the two male leads are the Cliff's Notes versions of comedy characters. Hopefully, the supporting cast — Taxi alum Christopher Lloyd and Hairspray's Marissa Jaret Winokur — gets a chance to fly off the shelves in the next episode; their quick wit could help turn this dead paperweight into a page-turner... Oh my god, they killed Cartman! Not really, though that would have made for a really cool South Park. Instead the boy Kyle called a "fat, racist, self-centered, intolerant, manipulative sociopath," just thinks he's a ghost because his friends give him the silent treatment. An invisibility complex, that's what you get when you eat all the skin off KFC chicken. Always thought it was heartburn.

Miss last week's Lost, Alias, Smallville, Idol or Eyes? Click here for our recaps.

Got a comment for one of our Watercooler writers? Send it in via the feedback box at the bottom of the page.