That's about as topical as a show like this can ever get: Imagining a "very special" episode where the gang strives to cope with September 11 gives me chills. Aimlessness is Apatow's calling, his great insight into the adolescent soul. In this slack universe, lack of direction seems like a permanent personal, moral, and intellectual predicament for everyone striving to mold themselves into the "adults" around them. When indulging Wainwright's old-guy antics, Undeclared feels like dull shtick. But when Apatow lets his characters flounder into things or stumble over emotions they haven't the faintest clue how to handle or even understand, this show hits something valuable and true--that our inner loser might be the most appealing thing about all of us.