Every South Park Season Ranked

What hasn't "South Park" done over its incredible run? The show started as a scrappy little program in the late 1990s, and it wasn't long before it became a vital cultural Rorschach test for multiple generations. It's chock-full of memorable songs, hilarious gross-out gags, outrageous humor, and a lot to say about the world around us. It also boasts some of the most ridiculous and beloved characters found anywhere in the world. "South Park" creators Matt Stone and Trey Parker have been making the show since its inception, and they are still on board for many more years to come after striking a jaw-dropping deal with MTV Entertainment Studios for additional seasons along with 14 streaming movies, all in the "South Park" universe.

There isn't really such a thing as a bad season of "South Park," it must be said. Even the "worst" seasons of the series have plenty to offer. Every single season has at least one great episode, while quite a few seasons have nothing but excellence from beginning to end. It's time to go on down to "South Park" and have ourselves a time. Without further ado, here is every season of "South Park," ranked worst to best.

The highlight of Season 23 is "Let Them Eat Goo," which sees Eric Cartman go on a tirade against the introduction of vegan food into his beloved school cafeteria. Watching his absolute heartbreak over the demise of Taco Tuesday, and other themed lunches, is hilarious and makes for a perfect Cartman-themed episode. It's a great example of what "South Park" is capable of when everything comes together. The writers were clearly having fun, while also throwing in "There Will Be Blood," because what is "South Park" if not an unexpected and delightful mash-up of cultural references?

There's also the deranged "Band in China" episode, and the funny and absurd look at the world of fecal transplants in "Turd Burglars," which largely shifts the focus to Sheila Broflovski and her friends (a welcome change in perspective). Unfortunately, the rest of the season can't come close to the hysterics of "Let Them Eat Goo." The focus on Randy Marsh moving his family out to the countryside and creating the marijuana farm, Tegridy Farms, is considerably overdone, regularly taking the wind out of the show's sails. Episodes like "Season Finale" and "Tegridy Farms" are particularly difficult to get through. While Randy is definitely one of the show's best characters, he works a lot better as a supporting character. There's simply way too much time spent on Tegridy Farms, which never manages to be that funny, making season 23 the weakest season of "South Park."

Look, if you had told me that Gerald Broflovski would make a better principal character than the iconic Randy Marsh, I'd have shown you the door. However, season 20 makes an extremely compelling case for Gerald. The season focuses on the United States 2020 presidential election campaign, and the world of online trolling.

When "South Park" looks at the world of online trolls, the season shines the brightest. Turning Gerald into a troll is a brilliant move as it adds some serious nuance to the conversation of the type of person that would become an internet troll. In fact, it gives us the best moment of the entire season: After someone comments on how the troll has no life and that he must wallow in his own misery, the scene cuts to Gerald, the troll, walking around town with an unrelenting joy to Len's "Steal My Sunshine."

Parker and Stone have admitted that they didn't anticipate a Trump victory which forced them to immediately course correct and rethink this season, and as such, it can't quite stick the landing with the underwhelming season finale, "The End of Serialization as We Know It" (even the title is a knowing wink that serialization may not be around forever in the series). Still, season 20 delivers an underappreciated and clever parody of both the 2020 election and internet trolling. Audiences may not have appreciated watching something so close to home at the time, but it's a season that gets better the further away from 2020 we get.

In season 22, "South Park" really zeroed in on its serialized approach, resulting in some solid overarching storylines that would later influence their Paramount+ specials. There are a lot of different stories explored here, including the seeming inevitability of school shootings, and the evils of the Amazon corporation. The former is particularly poignant, and the two-episode arc about climate change ("Time to Get Cereal" and "Nobody Got Cereal") that doubles as an apology to Al Gore for dismissing his theories in "ManBearPig" is outstanding. While the season has some intelligent and timely insight, it's also one of the more serious seasons of the series. If you're looking for barrels of laughs, you won't be finding that in season 22, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. "The Scoots," for example, is a solid parody of "The Birds," but swapping out the animals for electric scooters.

The PC Babies are the most prominent of the new characters introduced in the season, but to be frank, they add very little and detract far too much — especially when PC Principal already fulfills a similar role and has the space for nuanced character development. Sure, criticizing politically correct culture in the form of babies who start crying over every comment and micro-aggression is funny, but it wears thin very quickly. The PC Babies could have made for a few fun throwaway jokes, but like the obsession with Tegridy Farms (which debuts this season), there's simply too much time spent on stuff that goes nowhere. They're excellent in the great episode "Buddha Box," but things would have run a lot smoother if they had been contained to this one episode.

Season 24 is the least traditional season of "South Park" as it's comprised of two hour-long specials made during the quarantine era of the COVID-19 pandemic. "The Pandemic Special" opens with a fantastic Cartman song, "I Love You, Social Distancing," all about how he's never been happier to be social distancing since it's allowed him to be lazier than ever before. He even walks around his house with a six-foot stick, in order to keep his own mother away from him. The special is a fascinating look at how kids have been affected by the pandemic and isolation; while kids like Cartman thrive, others, like Butters, have experienced a far greater impact on their growing brains. As many are struggling, Randy is also thriving since his Tegridy Farms is doing better than ever — until he discovers that he is the very reason the pandemic started, partially thanks to the influence of Mickey Mouse. The special concludes in a tearful speech from Stan, reminiscent of the, "You know, I've learned something today" speeches that ended many classic "South Park" episodes.

While "The Pandemic Special" offers insight into the various ways COVID has affected us all (delivering plenty of laughs along the way), "South ParQ Vaccination Special" is a lot weaker. It shifts focus onto the actual vaccine and the various new militant groups that appear to stop vaccinations. It has enough laughs and the hour goes quickly, but it can't compare to the potency of "The Pandemic Special."

Although season 26 is one of the shorter seasons while Parker and Stone continue to double dip by releasing new episodes for the Max streaming platform and hour-long specials for Paramount+, it is a return to form and one of the best examples of their continually evolving approach to comedy. The season opens with an episode featuring Cartman's Cupid Me imaginary friend, who has now taken on the persona of Ye (Kanye West), including his dangerously antisemitic beliefs. The episode was written and directed solely by Stone, taking to task the ridiculousness of antisemitic stereotypes, and is one of the strongest debuts the show has had in years. 

The rest of the five episodes range in quality but with standouts like "Deep Learning" which tackles AI and ChatGPT (by showing how broken and terrible a "South Park" episode written by AI would be), "DikinBaus Hot Dogs," which gives Butters time to shine and continues the long overdue winning streak of Liane Cartman, and "Spring Break" which sees Mr. Garrison slipping back down the slope into MAGA territory once again, season 26 is a hopeful sign that the next era of "South Park" is one worth getting excited about.

While season 23 was hyper-focused on Tegridy Farms, season 21 goes here, there, and everywhere. It doesn't have the same linear focus as season 20, but there are overarching themes throughout, including the chaos of President Garrison and the increasingly toxic relationship between Eric Cartman and Heidi Turner. The season straddles the line between being serialized and episodic, and it struggles to have any real coherency as a result. Even characters who normally get great episodes when they're featured, such as Jimmy and Timmy, get "Moss Piglets," a disappointing episode about the school's science fair.

What saves season 21 is the Emmy-nominated episode "Put It Down," a truly great installment that reckons with the dangers of a madman president tweeting, particularly focusing on student Tweek and the conflict with North Korea. It's got some great songs as well — something "South Park" can always deliver — culminating with the fantastic titular song, begging the President of the United States to stop tweeting. What also works in the season's favor is Cartman's romantic relationship, which gives the show a great opportunity to explore toxic masculinity. When you think about it, who better to explore toxicity than Cartman? Sadly, the rest of the season feels a little disjointed at times, but the episode "Hummels & Heroin" feels like an old school return to the "South Park" style of absurdity that helps balance out some of the weaker stories.

After the cliffhanger at the end of season 1, fans were eager to see the premiere of season 2, which promised the reveal of the identity of Cartman's father. Instead, audiences were greeted by "Terrance and Phillip in Not Without My Anus," an episode entirely based on the Canadian comedy duo and Saddam Hussein's efforts to take over the glorious nation of Canada. As a Canadian, the show's mockery of the country has always been one of my (that's me, Barry) favorite aspects of the show. It's also a really good episode, but fans were understandably frustrated with having to wait yet another week for the long-teased reveal.

Despite the season's shortcomings, the standout episode, "Chef's Salty Chocolate Balls," is early "South Park" at its best (and most outrageous). The episode, which features Robert Redford taking his independent film festival to the town of South Park, culminates in Mr. Hankey, the Christmas Poo, creating a "The Sorcerer's Apprentice" inspired mountain of feces upon the town. It certainly lacks the incisive qualities of the show's best episodes, but it's funny, ridiculous, and disgusting, which is very much the holy trinity of early "South Park." If that's not to your taste, then there's even "Merry Christmas, Charlie Manson!" which showcases Cartman's family and Charles Manson singing about the joys of Christmas.

Ever had a breakdown after starting an anti-bullying campaign that leads to you, well, exposing yourself on the streets of San Diego? Almost certainly not, but it's something that happens to Stan Marsh not once, but twice in season 16 of "South Park." The primary incident occurs in "Butterballs," where Butters gets relentlessly bullied by his grandma, causing Stan to start a campaign against bullying with the irony-laden song, "Make Bullying Kill Itself." Then there's "Cash For Gold," an unexpected yet fascinating and cutting look at the world of TV shopping channels, featuring Stan's righteous anger that's made for many a classic episode.

The real reason season 16 places low on the list is the considerable inconsistency across the episodes. The season feels like the show was reaching its breaking point, with episodes that run out of steam. The best example of this is "I Should Have Never Gone Ziplining." The first half is hilarious, skewering the ziplining fad and brilliantly poking fun at group activities. It's a story that can't sustain itself for an entire episode, however, leading to a dull second half and an agonizing live-action sequence that feels infinitely longer than it actually is. It's so, so close to being brilliant, but never quite gets there. There are plenty of good moments in season 16, but episodes like "Ziplining," "Faith Hilling," and "Going Native" certainly suggest that the show would be better off with fewer episodes in a season — something that changed with season 17, the first to have only 10 episodes.

Season 25 is only six episodes, down from the usual 10 that we've seen for the last handful of seasons. It mostly maintains the same serialized approach seen in contemporary seasons, though with so few episodes, it's largely surface-level developments surrounding Tegridy Farms. Namely, an exciting shakeup to the exhausting storyline: Randy has a new rival in Tolkien's father, who establishes Credigree Farms. The season's first episode, "Pajama Day," takes aim at anti-maskers, and while it's a decent enough episode, it lacks the bite of the season 24 pandemic specials. However, the strength of the standout episodes of this season are enough to push this higher up on the list. 

In particular, there are two especially strong episodes in the season. The first, "The Big Fix," features Stan and Randy making the shocking discovery that after years of thinking the character's name was "Token Black," his name is actually Tolkien, named after "The Lord of the Rings" author. With this episode, Parker and Stone also began gaslighting fans by updating the closed captioning and character descriptions on back seasons, one of the best bits they've ever done. The second standout episode, "Help, My Teenager Hates Me!" sees the writers take great pleasure in making fun of teenagers, which will have you adding "bruh" to your vocabulary (and loving it). It's pretty much a season of some great moments and some far less interesting ones. "Back to the Cold War" reminds us that we're in desperate need of a great Butters episode. Then, there's "Credigree Weed St. Patrick's Day Special," a good reminder that despite efforts to shake things up, things would be a lot more fun if Tegridy Farms just went away.

It's actually pretty shocking to rewatch the very first season of "South Park." Though the look is largely the same (it's certainly rougher, in a very charming way), it feels like a completely different show. While the series is regularly celebrated (and criticized) for its cultural commentary and irrepressible glee over its efforts to insult anyone and everyone, practically none of that is present in the first season. When the show premiered in 1997, it caused quite a stir with its foul language and potty humor, but it's stunningly tame in comparison to the seasons that followed. The very first episode, "Cartman Gets an Anal Probe," is a great start that introduces our key characters. The season standout, "Mr. Hankey, the Christmas Poo," brings a singing turd into the limelight.

Overall, season 1 of "South Park" is a show very much in the process of finding itself. While it was likely impossible to imagine at the time that the show would still be on the air, and a big part of the cultural conversation, it's fun to see how it all began. Plus, it's where Kenny McCormick dying in every episode started, giving us, "Oh my God, you killed Kenny!" It even takes a note from "The Simpsons," ending the first season on a major cliffhanger, just like "Who Shot Mr. Burns," promising to reveal the identity of Cartman's father in the second season premiere. And yet, this is the season that sparked an international obsession with the series, and for that, we must show our appreciation.

Season 18 was a big step up in creativity for "South Park." It's thrilling to see how the consequences of the townspeople's actions are felt throughout the episodes. Even though (similar to the other serialized seasons), the ending fails to satisfy, there's so much greatness here it's hard to be too bothered. The season covers just about everything: mocking Uber, derogatory sports team names, the gluten-free craze, massacring the seedy practices of freemium gaming, and so much more. There are some all-timer episodes here, including "The Cissy," which offers a surprisingly heartfelt, emotionally intelligent look at gender identity, while also bringing a wonderful gift to the world: Randy Marsh as pop superstar Lorde. If the mere mention doesn't have you singing, "Ya Ya Ya, I am Lorde," what are you doing here?  

There's a whole lot of fun to be had here, including the high-concept and hilarious "Grounded Vindaloop," an episode whose increasing plot twists and absurdity feel like vintage "South Park" in all the best ways. Then, there's the sublime "Cock Magic." While "South Park" is often very clever, it's rarely afraid to get downright dumb, and the irresistible "Cock Magic" is a wonderful blend of creative jokes and outrageous stupidity. The episode turns cockfighting into roosters dueling while playing the card game "Magic: The Gathering," and it features Randy Marsh performing a very different, and breathtakingly hysterical, version of cock magic. Between being Lorde and "Cock Magic," Randy has never been funnier than in this wonderful season.

The cream of the crop of season 15 is "You're Getting Old," which stands as one of the best episodes in the entire series. It features Stan turning 10, and as a result, all the things he once loved start to sound, and look, like (literal) crap. One of the great images of the episode is a duck, acting as the President of the United States, violently crapping out of its mouth. It's the kind of vile absurdity that only "South Park" can somehow give credence to. The episode also signaled the future of a serialized show, and Stan turning 10 is a truly major moment in the series' history. It's one of those brilliant episodes that immediately curbs the vitriol of any naysayers who believe the show is morally bankrupt. 

There are some other great episodes, too, but season 15 suffers from some serious inconsistency. "Funnybot" and "A History Channel Thanksgiving" aren't up to snuff compared to some of the others, and while "Bass to Mouth" is an honest attempt at surrealism, it quickly wears out its welcome. Fortunately, there's also the stupendous "Broadway Bro Down," which sees Parker and Stone calling out the clique-like nature of Broadway in the wake of "The Book of Mormon" being released (and later winning nine Tonys!) There's also a delicious bonus: the season 15 finale, "The Poor Kid," finally mocks Cartman's absurd pronunciations. Kyle telling him, "My name, is not, Kyeel," and his new foster mother saying, "My name, is not, Myeem," are all-time classic lines.

Building on the serialized elements of prior seasons, season 19 of "South Park" delivers the first fully serialized season, though it's less linear than season 20. The season introduces PC Principal — the show's critique of political correctness — and he fits in perfectly in the show's universe, quickly becoming one of the series' most important characters. 

The season takes aim at gentrification and its devastating effects on the most vulnerable in society. The creation of "ShiTiPaTown" feels so accurate that it's almost difficult to watch. Political correctness is certainly the main target of season 19, especially in the fantastic "Safe Space," which features one of the best songs in the show's history of the same name. Then there's "Tweek x Craig" which is chock-full of laugh-out-loud moments and makes both Craig and Tweek the first openly gay students at South Park Elementary.

Jimmy Valmer is one of the very best characters in "South Park," and season 19 provided a major arc for Jimmy. It was great to see his impressive intelligence on display, as he seemed to be the only person in town capable of telling the difference between ads and real news. It takes time to get going, but when it does, season 19 is the show at best: providing genuinely challenging cultural criticism, while also being incredibly funny and entertaining. While it's a legitimate downer to see Kyle and Stan's reliable friendship at odds, it's still awesome to see the creative team shoot for the stars.

"Trapped in the Closet" is a standout episode from season 9 that sees Stan take on Scientology — and also Tom Cruise, who won't come out of his closet. "South Park" has developed a tremendous ability to take on the foundations of an entire religion in one 22-minute block. Compellingly, "South Park" uses Scientology against itself, simply showcasing the beliefs of the religion while flashing, "This is what Scientologists actually believe," on screen. Predictably, the episode managed to cause quite the stir, and Tom Cruise allegedly threatened a lawsuit.

The seventh season ranges from the shocking and obscene ("Mr. Garrison's Fancy New Vagina") to the hilarious ("The Losing Edge," "Ginger Kids"). It also features some good old-fashioned childhood innocence in the surprisingly sweet "Free Willzyx." The boys are tricked into believing that a whale in the local aquarium is actually an alien, so they set off on a mission to send the whale home. There's also a brilliant Kenny-focused episode in the Emmy-winning "Best Friends Forever," which tackled the Terri Schiavo case. Let's not forget the great Butters episode "Marjorine," where he goes undercover as a girl to try and recover a powerful future-telling device. Perhaps the best episode of the entire season is "The Death of Eric Cartman," in which Cartman believes he has died, so he tries to right his past wrongs so he can move on to the afterlife.

Season 14 of "South Park" may offer the most laughs of any season. Each one of its 14 episodes is outrageous, ridiculous, and very, very funny. There's also plenty of sharp satire, like in "The Tale of Scrotie McBoogerballs," which skewers criticism and artistic interpretation as the boys set out to create the most vulgar book they can possibly create. It's nearly impossible for a show to maintain momentum for well over a decade, and while "South Park" has certainly stumbled, season 14 is a strong reminder that Trey Stone and Matt Parker still had plenty to say. 

There's the tremendous two-part "200" and "201," where all of the celebrities the show has ridiculed band together in an effort to no longer be mocked. Additionally, Cartman, after many years of waiting, finally discovers who his real father is. Then there's "You Have 0 Friends," a clever satire of social media and the obsession with having large numbers of friends on the internet. "It's a Jersey Thing" finally lets Sheila Broflovski be seen as something other than an overbearing shrew, and let's also not forget about the stupendously silly "Crème Fraîche," which throws Stan's parents into the spotlight.

"South Park" is rarely as outrageous as it is in "Medicinal Fried Chicken," a gut-busting funny story in which Randy gives himself testicular cancer so he can get medicinal marijuana, while Cartman finds himself on a desperate mission to get KFC. It features Sharon getting a scrotal coat as Randy and his friends bounce around on their outrageously large testicles. A comedy masterpiece.

Still a show in its infancy, season 3 of "South Park" finds itself slowly morphing into the sharp commentary the animated series is now known for. There's hardly a bad episode out of the 17 episodes — except for the nearly unbearable "Jakovasaurs," which is as annoying as its titular character. The rest of the episodes are generally good, and the animation takes a big step forward. Highlights include "Two Guys Naked in a Hot Tub," a clever look at sexual experimentation amongst heterosexual men, and "Sexual Harassment Panda," which pokes fun at America's litigation-happy society. Then, there's the fabulous "Chinpokomon," which takes aim at the obsession with Pokémon, delivering one of the best episodes in the entire series.

There's also plenty of low-brow humor that "South Park" arguably does better than anyone else. The season finale, "World Wide Recorder Concert," is a delight as it focuses on the genuine childlike innocence of our beloved Kenny, Cartman, Stan, and Kyle. The gang hears about a mythical brown note that you can play on a recorder that will make someone defecate, which leads to ridiculous and undeniably hilarious consequences. While the boys have become considerably more jaded over time, the early seasons are a wonderful opportunity to see kids being ... well, kids.

After a few rough seasons, "South Park" finally found its rhythm in Season 4. One of the biggest reasons for its success is the evolution of Eric Cartman, who really became a major standout in these episodes. Episodes like "Fat Camp" and "Cartman's Silly Hate Crime 2000" bring audiences a dastardly and conniving, hate-filled little boy that would eventually become the show's figurehead. It also really takes things to the next level in terms of delivering scathing cultural commentary. It's particularly potent in its attack on alternative medicine in "Cherokee Hair Tampons," in which a seriously ill Kyle is taken to a holistic practitioner named Miss Information. There's also "Cartman Joins NAMBLA," an all-timer of an episode that makes a perfect cocktail of childhood innocence and a brutal takedown of a shocking real-life organization of dangerous creeps.

Season 4 also brings us the wonderful Timmy Burch, the fantastic student who uses a wheelchair and who can only say his own name, as well as the phrase, "Living a lie!" He's the star of the awesome "Timmy 2000," which finds Timmy leading a rock band, much to the dismay of some townsfolk, and of course, Phil Collins. The strangest thing in the season is "Pip," a retelling of the Dickens classic "Great Expectations." It's not particularly funny, or even good, and while it's widely disliked, "Pip" gave the world Malcolm McDowell performing as "a British person," so all is certainly not lost.

Wendy Testaburger has always been one of, if not the most, emotionally intelligent kids in "South Park," and she's the true moral compass of the entire series. Season 12's "Breast Cancer Show Ever" provides a fantastic opportunity for her to finally get back at Cartman, who has relentlessly mocked her. It's a classic episode of the show that sees Wendy and Cartman go head-to-head, and few moments are as satisfying as watching Wendy beat the absolute brakes off of him.

There are so many other gems in season 12, including the giddy "The Grapes of Wrath" parody "Over Logging," which has one of the show's most disgusting and hilarious images; though, according to Randy, it was merely ectoplasm. We got another great Canada-centric episode in "Canada on Strike" (seriously, it's time to give Canada more money!), and one of the most visually adventurous episodes in "Major Boobage," a Kenny-focused episode that pays tribute to the animated classic, "Heavy Metal."

Honestly, the only things preventing season 12 from being higher on the list are the two-part "Pandemic" episodes (about Peruvian flute bands, not COVID-19), which are a bit of dead weight. Not to mention the fact that there are just so many fantastic seasons of this unhinged show.

This season's legendary joke involving "putting fish sticks in your mouth" and "gay fish," created by Jimmy and Cartman (but really just Jimmy), is the central conceit of "Fishsticks," one of the best episodes in season 13. The joke is seen as hilarious to everyone — except, of course, rapper Kanye West, who is desperate to prove that he's not actually a gay fish. There's so much greatness in the season, like "Dances with Smurfs," which turns Cartman into former Fox correspondent Glenn Beck while diving into the world of conspiracies, featuring another fantastic duel between Cartman and Wendy, though this one doesn't get physical.

There's also the world-class "Butters' Bottom B***h," in which Butters unwittingly becomes a pimp. Not to be overlooked, there's the fantastic start to the season, "The Ring," which unsheathes the angelic appearance of the Disney corporation, which is followed by "The Coon" and the wonderfully ridiculous "Margaritaville," a parody of the global economic crisis. There's so much humor and many memorable moments to be found in this season. The only thing that lets it down is the average and overly violent "Whale Whores," along with the quirky yet forgettable, "Eat, Pray, Queef." The fact that a season with this many great episodes is only 8th on the list speaks to the fact that "South Park" was operating at its peak for over a decade, which is an exceptional feat.

There isn't really a bad episode in this season, which is a pretty incredible feat. While the season doesn't quite match the magnificence of season 5 before it, season 6 is full of plenty of classic episodes. In the silly "Asspen," Stan finds himself dueling with an arrogant skier like the movie "Better Off Dead," which gives us the quotable classic, "Stan Darsh." Butters really gets to shine in place of Kenny (he's dead ... for now), who's especially great in "Professor Chaos," not to mention the sharp satire of "The Simpsons Already Did It."

The underrated highlight of Season 6 is "Bebe's Boobs Destroy Society." The girls of "South Park" rarely get their due in the early seasons, but Bebe starts to go through puberty, which leads to the fourth-grade boys collectively losing their minds, delivering plenty of crass and witty humor. The boys regularly devolve into apes as they fight for Bebe, who has no particular interest in any of them.

There are plenty of classic misunderstandings in season 6 that allows for some truly memorable episodes. In "A Ladder to Heaven," the boys attempt to build a ladder to heaven so they can get something from Kenny, but the townsfolk assume it's because they're heartbroken and miss their friend. Then, there's the absolute masterwork of "The Return of the Fellowship of the Ring to the Two Towers," the hysterical "The Lord of the Rings" parody centered around the boys taking the wrong movie to the video store and Butters slowly turning into a Gollum after seeing pornography for the first time.

Season 11 is certainly one of the all-time greats. It opens with one of the most politically charged episode ever, "With Apologies to Jesse Jackson," which explores the effects of the n-word after Randy Marsh uses it in an appearance on "Wheel of Fortune" gone horribly wrong. It's a perfect episode for the way it deals with a controversial topic with impressive tact and intelligence, offering some deeply uncomfortable yet worthy laughs.

It also features the "Imaginationland" trilogy, which finds "South Park" at its most creative and energetic. According to creator Trey Parker, it's his favorite episode they've ever made. The three episodes find the world of imagination at risk from terrorists, and only the boys in the quiet little mountain town have what it takes to save it. Of course, because this is "South Park," it stems from Cartman determined to have Kyle suck his balls over a bet about leprechauns.

Season 11 has absolutely everything a "South Park" fan could dream of: roasting celebrities in "More Crap," Cartman taking things too far in "Le Petit Tourette," complete absurdity in "Lice Capades," and genuine heartfelt character growth in "The List." That's to say nothing of its acute political commentary on conversion therapy in "Cartman Sucks," and the show has its finger on the pulse of culture in "Guitar Queer-o." It's a little inconsistent overall as episodes like "Night of the Living Homeless," and "D-Yikes" have both aged like a bucket of sour cream in a sauna, but overall, a great season.

"Dum dum dum dum dum," goes the backing track in "All About Mormons," the episode that lampoons the entire Mormon faith. It's unforgettable, and likely laid the foundations for show creators Matt Stone and Trey Parker to make the massive Broadway sensation, "The Book of Mormon." Then there's "Casa Bonita," a classic Cartman and Butters episode, and one of the motivating factors behind Parker and Stone's purchase and renovation of the real-life Colorado restaurant. It's always astonishing to see the lengths Cartman will go to get what he wants, even if it's something as trivial as a trip to a themed restaurant. Wouldn't every fourth grader convince their friend it's the end of the world and cast them away in a massive junkyard so they can take their place at dinner? No? Okay, moving along. 

One of the most gut-busting laughs of the entire series comes in "Raisins," where Jimmy attempts to tell Wendy that she's a "continuing source of inspiration" to Stan, but Jimmy's stutter makes the lovely comment sound like a vicious insult. Stan gets dumped by Wendy and becomes a goth, while Butters falls in love with a waitress thinking she loves him, when in reality she's just flirting for tips. Season 7 is chock-full of controversy, taking aim at celebrities like Ben Affleck and Jennifer Lopez, while mocking gang wars, metrosexuality, Christian rock, and just about everything else it can make fun of over its 15 great episodes.

Despite its high placement on our list, season 17 should probably be lower than it is. It's the first of the 10-episode seasons, and one of them, "Goth Kids 3: Dawn of the Posers," is a considerable dud that lacks the tongue-in-cheek silliness of the previous Goth Kids episodes. There are a lot of good episodes here, like the ridiculous "Ginger Cow," which features Kyle coveting Cartman's farts in order to maintain newfound world peace, along with an all time great Ike Broflovski episode, "Taming Strange."  

The real reason that season 17 is so excellent is its phenomenal "Black Friday" trilogy, focusing on the console wars between the PS4 and Xbox One. It's pitch-perfect, and a fantastic understanding of what it's like to be a gamer, complete with the tense sequences of making sure your friends are all going to get the same console so you can play together. It's also such a strong parody of HBO's "Game of Thrones" that you don't even need to have seen the drama to appreciate it. On top of everything else, it's a great reminder of the complete hysteria that surrounds shopping events like Black Friday, skewering those willing to stampede for discounts. It even provided inspiration for the amazing videogame "South Park: The Stick of Truth." It's all very compelling evidence that nobody makes a trilogy like "South Park." All hail Princess Kenny.

When thinking of season 10, your mind almost certainly goes to one place: "Make Love, Not Warcraft," which makes a compelling case for being the one of the all-time best episodes of "South Park." It's an ingenious and hilarious episode that lampoons the world of online gaming and geek culture, specifically the MMORPG "World of Warcraft." It also features plenty of footage from the actual video game, which makes for a refreshing change in animation style. Perhaps the biggest highlight of the magnificent episode is the training montage set to Paul Stanley's "Live to Win," in which the boys get increasingly overweight and pimply, as they face their toughest enemy: carpal tunnel. 

There are some arguably less-popular areas in this season (mostly because of "A Million Little Fibers," a legitimately terrible episode that features Towelie and Oprah almost exclusively, a combination nobody asked for), and the weirdly bleak and depressing "Stanley's Cup," which ends the season on a dour, "Mighty Ducks" depression parody note. Still, season 10 is generally fantastic, with "Tsst," "Cartoon Wars," "Smug Alert!" and "Go God Go," amongst others, all being hugely memorable installments of the series. This season helped revitalize the series after 10 years on air, and laid the groundwork for more creative ventures to come. 

Early episodes of "South Park" can be easily distinguished from their modern counterparts by seeing Kenny die. Poor Kenny McCormick gets killed at least once in nearly every episode of the first five seasons, only to return moments later. In season 5's "Kenny Dies," the character dies for real, and it's a hugely emotional episode that has Kyle and Stan suffering greatly as they deal with the loss of their dear friend. Then there's Cartman, who seems every bit as devastated, though it's soon revealed that his motivations are very different.

Speaking of Cartman, season 5 has the very best episode focusing on the beloved maniac in "Scott Tenorman Must Die." It appears Cartman has finally met his match in bully Scott Tenorman, but Cartman goes to lengths nobody could have ever imagined to get his revenge on Scott. If you love "South Park" for its ability to shock, there is no single episode better than this one. The episode makes it incredibly clear just how manipulative and ruthless Cartman can be, and should have been the call for fans to stop emulating the series' most despicable character. Cartman is a capital-V Villain, and this episode paves the way for his increasing sociopathic tendencies for years to come.

There's really not a single bad episode in season 5. Supporting characters like Tolkien and Butters finally step into the spotlight in their own excellent episodes in "Here Comes the Neighborhood" and "Butters' Very Own Episode." As the single most innocent character in all of "South Park," Butters would go on to become one of the most important characters on the show, and this episode is an all-time great showcase.

Is there a bad episode in Season 8? Is there even just a good episode? The answer to both these questions is a resounding "no," as the legendary season 8 features 14 truly great episodes. It's hard enough for a show to have a satisfying season, but season 8 really knocks it out of the park. There's the brilliant "Good Times With Weapons," and a fantastic Jimmy episode in "Up the Down Steroid."

The most thoughtful episode of the season is "The Passion of the Jew," which finds Kyle grappling with his identity as a Jewish boy in the wake of "The Passion of the Christ." The show gets political in "Goobacks" which blessed the world with the rallying cry, "They took our jobs!" and "Douche and Turd," which glowingly mocks the dire American political landscape. We cannot forget "AWESOM-O," a brilliant episode where Butters actually has the upper hand over Cartman, even if he doesn't realize it. It also features the wondrous imagery of Cartman eating toothpaste due to extreme hunger. There's some traditional celebrity roasting, like that of Paris Hilton in "Stupid Spoiled Whore Video Playset," which showcases Mr. Slave's best moment.

It all comes to a perfect end in "Woodland Critter Christmas," one of the funniest episodes of "South Park" that features the funniest plot twist I've ever had the privilege of witnessing. Season 8 of "South Park" never misses, and is truly "South Park" at its very best.