THE FOLLOWING (premiering tonight at 9/8 Central on Fox) represents the latest attempt by a broadcast network to compete with the extremities and explicitness of cable TV. Or to put it another way, how ya gonna keep ’em watching your procedurals after they’ve been down on the farm with THE WALKING DEAD?

People have long put much thought into whether the universe is cruel. AMERICAN HORROR STORY’s is. In ASYLUM, no one leaves Briarcliff unscathed.  No one really leaves. Those who did find a way out are drawn back, as if in a vicious circle, even though time progresses.

It’s unclear whether “Spilt Milk” can be judged on its own. As AMERICAN HORROR STORY begins to wrap up its second season in earnest (and not just its typical stop-start-reset fashion) it may be integral to view this eleventh episode of ASYLUM alongside the final two that follow. That could be the key to figuring out whether, in the end, this all works. Because right now, after a truly head-tilting opening in which Dylan McDermott’s present day Bloody Face visits with a lactating prostitute, who can really be sure of anything?

It seems AMERICAN HORROR STORY can still surprise. Midst the madness that is ASYLUM, there was the question of Monsignor Timothy Howard, and if his cowering ways would remain intact throughout or if Joseph Fiennes would really get his hands on something. The tenth episode, “The Name Game” saw him take serious responsibility and do away with the show’s greatest character. It was a somber affair, and maybe all a bit unceremonious.

I think I’ve written something in this exact vein before, but whatever AMERICAN HORROR STORY is (and it’s plenty), it’s never subtle. “The Coat Hanger”—an episode that would put the titular object to the exact use its name causes folks to cringe—began with a returning Dylan McDylan expressing his inner struggle as the modern day Bloody Face to an unsuited therapist. Hint after hint is laid out, until in the clearest terms possible this rat-tailed Johnny offers, “I’m the son of Bloody Face.” In case you were still befuddled, ASYLUM returned from its title sequence to tell Lana Winters there’s a psychopathic baby in her womb.

For an episode that promised one of horror’s favorite motifs (sullying the sacred/cheerful) in Killer Santa, “Unholy Night” ended up a relatively minor holiday treat. Of course, there’s nowhere else in the world for Ian McShane and Jessica Lange to come together in a verbal sparring-cum-caning as a deranged Santa and pious nun act out a warped staging of the war for Christmas, and all of our holiday reverence. So, Merry Christmas AMERICAN HORROR STORY, you’ve kicked off December in a just deranged-enough manner.

Following a harrowing ordeal at the hands of Bloody Face, and a car crash immediately after, Lana Winters—back on a bed in Briarcliff—looks at Sister Mary Eunice and pleads, “He can’t know I’m here.”

“No one knows that you’re here,” A reply in which Lana, nor we, find any comfort at all.