A few weeks ago, I received news so good that I went to the roof of my dorm and shouted it to all who would listen. Well, that story isn't 100 percent accurate in the sense of being true, but I would have shouted it from the rooftops if the door to the roof wasn't closed, I wasn't busy and the temperature wasn't appropriate for cryogenic experimentation. That's how good the news was. You see, the seventh and final Harry Potter book comes out this summer, and I am excited. Very, very exited.
I've been a Harry Potter fan since shortly before the release of the fourth book. I was introduced to the series by my next door neighbor who, being an elementary school teacher, wanted to share this wonderful series with the children in her neighborhood. Also, I'm pretty sure she wanted to give me something to occupy my time, because I had a tendency to attack her car with sticks. Don't ask.
I admit, I was skeptical of the series at first; like many books, it started confusingly, with an unhealthy amount of teasers and foreshadowing. I mean, the two professors are colleagues, you'd think they'd mention the bad guy's name or something, instead of referring to him as him. It's like President George W. Bush and Condoleezza Rice referring to Saddam Hussein as He-Who-Must-Have-Weapons-Despite-a-Stupefyingly-Obvious-Lack-of-Evidence.
But then we are introduced to Hagrid, the gateway to a world of magic, dragons and the wasted ability to become invisible (c'mon Harry, steal food, hide your valuables ' do something with it. You've only used it to become a glorified stalker, for crying out loud!)
From there on, I've been bleeding crimson and gold. I should probably get that checked out. I haven't gone more than six months in seven years without cracking open one of J.K. Rowling's memorable tomes and ignoring the surrounding world. I've missed a lot of homework assignments/parties/sibling's births, etc., but those are sacrifices I'll willingly make in exchange for one more go-round on Harry's quest for identity, justice and, above all else, a way to cheat on exams.
So when I heard the new book was coming out, I squealed with childlike delight, in as manly a manner as I could manage. But alas, I grew depressed, for I knew that, as popular as the books have gotten, there is a dedicated group of people whose sole mission in life is simple: Make sure no one opens the book without first hearing the ending.
That's right. I, Warren Locke, fearless humor columnist, fear something besides heights, clowns, mascots and staircases: spoilers.
I don't I know why I fear spoilers. I usually welcome them, and hold the proud distinction of never having watched an episode of Twilight Zone without first knowing exactly how our protagonist is going to meet his or her ironic end. But we've all seen the online video taken by the guy who drove past a popular bookstore, which boasted a huge line of eager fans, shouting Snape kills Dumbledore. I realize that the previous sentence is technically a spoiler, but c'mon, if you didn't know it by now, you're probably one of those anomalies of society who, after 30 years, still doesn't know the big twist in Star Wars (George Lucas made it up as he went along. 'I had the whole story in my head before I started.' Sure, whatever you say, George).
The point, and yes, I do have a point, is that few things can ruin a good book, movie, television show or autopsy as completely as a spoiler. So Warren
you ask, oblivious to the fact that you're basically talking to yourself, and probably in public, how can I avoid the wicked corruptions of a spoiler?
Well, the solution lies in the spoiler's methods. These people know the ending details before the books are released. There are only two possible explanations to this. One, these people are J.K. Rowling. Or two, there are evil, heartless, soul-deprived, never-hugged-as-children people who have friends in other time zones who get the book earlier and are able to relay the information.
So, how do we stop these people without going overboard and completely crazy? Simple; we shut down the Internet and telephone satellites for 24 hours, starting from the book's release in London.
Is it crazy? Yes. Is it going too far? Certainly. But, as Roland Samuels, an important historical figure whom I didn't make up, once wrote, Literature is the gateway into our souls and if you tell me what's in my soul before I get a chance to find out for myself I'll jam this quill so far up yourG? . Unfortunately, Samuels stopped writing at that point for reasons unknown, but his meaning is clear. Not to me, but hopefully to someone.
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Warren Locke
Nothing can kill Harry Potter quite like a spoiler
