Jan 15, 2012
Dear Spoilers,
It's time to let you know your behavior is unwelcome. It's unfair, it's rude, and it's downright bloody annoying.
It takes a lot to get me into a TV series or book series or really anything meant to entertain and to envelop the imagination. Not only does it present a commitment of my time, but it's a risk of growing fond of or frustrated with characters so brilliantly constructed by authors, writers, playwrights, and creators. You all know I'm an emotional disaster as it is, and my nerves are rationed for only THE most complicated, addicting, and delightful or tragic situations.
When I lived in a world where "information overload" meant too much homework, I was safe from the crushing blow of disappointment. I enjoyed my personal entertainment of novels and shows and films on my own time. I could scream "SHUUUT UUUUP!!!" or throw something at a friend or family member or colleague who even BEGAN to give something away in conversation.
Then the dawn of real-time information came swiftly, abruptly. People could share EV-ER-Y-THIIIING. Photos, news, updates, articles, videos, sports scores, jokes, dreams, goals, daily to do lists, photos of every meal one eats in a day, babies IN UTERO, crappy song lyrics, whiny and vulgar political opinions, FEET! DEAR GOD WHY DO WE NEED TO SEE YOUR FEET, cries for attention, "mysterious" sad faces or winky faces, duck faces, and every thought and reaction that EVER comes to mind. And with that, my little bubble of safe, blissful ignorance shattered. No where is safe.
John and I are busy. By the time we get home, we're worn out. We share about our days, we share a modest but healthy meal, and we love spending an uninterrupted 30 min-1 hour together when we can, getting lost in a tangle of drama, mystery, comedy, and lives very different from our own. We don't have regular TV or cable, so we're at the mercy of the internet lords to post the day-old leftovers when they can.
I enjoy reading. I love words, prose, character development, symbolism, and a gosh-darned GOOD story. It helps me see the world in new ways, it wakes up my creative and wanderlust spirit, it makes me more inquisitive, it helps me get to sleep at night.
When you ruin a work of entertainment, you're not only screwing it up for your immediate circles. You've invariably taken the breath, the humanity, the ART out the production. An author writes and visual crews create in such a way to convey a feeling, a series of emotional roller coasters -- when you already know the ending or key pieces to the story, the creator's intentions are lost in a premature revelation. You can slough through the next few chapters or episodes to glean the extra details... but what's point?
Why, WHY do you do it, Spoliers? You Know-It-Alls? You Big Mouths? Do you feel proud proud? Superior? Is it because you've actually taken time to appreciate something that didn't involve the word "redneckanize" or drunken brawls or pea-brained "why-are-they-famous" celebrities? Well GOOD. FOR. YOU.
So you thieves of joy, you sergeants in the army of smug, you squeally simpletons who don't consider the rest of us... I'm here to tell you that you're THAT GUY/GAL who says "one more word" in class that results the rest of us having to run laps. Go eat your lunch in the bathroom stall because you can't sit with us.
My only solution is to effectively hide, delete, or unfollow you, or avoid any online socializing during times of new releases and launches and premieres. But it chaps my bottoms that I can't enjoy my online outlets because YOU can't shut your piehole.
(*insert exhausted, heavy sigh*)
But don't you worry, you Spoilers. I have my own army. An army rifled with civility and standards and etiquette. Those who know common courtesy and social decency don't go away just because things are happening on the other side of the screen. Consider us the hackers of the impolite. May the dear Lord help the day we put you in your place.
And with that: GOOD DAY, SIR.
AND MA'AM.
Respectfully,
C








