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Curiosity killed the cat, they say.
It goes without saying that spoilers are the absolute worst first-world problems that we young professionals are burdened with making a living out of whining about. For example: it’s close to impossible to Google a single thing about this summer’s best comedy series, The Bachelorette, without running into any yet-to-be-aired relationship updates between JoJo and her remaining hunks. Some friends of mine mock this complaining culture we live in. Life is hard.
Another spoiler-heavy series far more agitating than Chad’s An Asshole The Bachelorette is Mad Men, an AMC classic I only felt fitting to wait to dive into once I’d graduated and officially joined the unforgiving corporate grind. Ten episodes in, I can’t get enough of Don Draper stealing the show in this depiction of early-’60s suburban culture that my Baby Boomer parents have long applauded.
But ya boy is a curious cat who physically cannot resist Googling any serendipitous tidbit I come across — especially on such a culturally significant piece of art like Mad Men. “Is that switchboard operator Flo the Progressive Girl?” Heck yeah it is. “Is that cheating little snake married to Alison Brie from Community?” Sure is. “Just need to double-check: the war Don fought in was Korea, not World War II, right?” You’re up to speed, pal.
One natural Wikipedia clickhole leads to another, and my eyes have now seen things they cannot unsee: the fate of Don’s desperate and lonely half-brother, how Don inherited his fake name, the fate of his family, what becomes of the steady Sterling Cooper empire, and so on.
This is an epidemic that has struck too many victims — and many more to come.
Queue Sarah McLachlan’s “In the Arms of an Angel”
It’s official: my unbridled curiosity killed the cat that is my wonderment to the storylines to be developed over the course of six more seasons of the second best cable drama of our time.
We need a cure.
It’s time for a spoiler-free Internet. I know I’m not alone here. If all web browsers are able to automatically filter all nudes from teenagers’ Google Image searches for [ENTER CURRENT POP STAR HERE], at least making them make an extra intentional click towards things-you-can’t-unsee Internet content, then there’s no reason innocent Netflix users who are curious about their newest (albeit outdated) binge should risk having blogs unintentionally ruin the developing character arc. It’s 2016, for crying out loud.
Find the cure.
Fade “In the Arms of an Angel” out..
Image via YouTube
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I can empathize with this on so many levels.
That’s actually a pretty cool idea. Like a version of IMDB, but when you go to enter in the show you want to look up, you type in the season/episode you are on, and it pulls up an archived version of the page from when that episode came out. So at most you only spoil the one episode you are currently watching.