Self-disclosure is much worse! | La Presse

Having a top secret element of a show—or even its finale—spoiled makes most of us mad. What, you didn’t know that (name redacted) was the mother of the red-headed baby from Sainte-Piété Falls in Witches to VAT? Oops. So sorry.


For an invested and devoted TV fan, there is nothing worse than an overly talkative (enthusiastic, I might add) columnist or a friend on her fourth Aperol spritz who scraps a big punch anticipated for 12 weeks. A thousand apologies, really.

These damned spoilers of the devil, which burst unannounced on Facebook or sneakily infiltrate an Instagram post, sabotage your listening and make you scream a rosary of church words.

It’s annoying, absolutely. But there’s an even more irritating phenomenon: self-disclosure. Yes, it’s possible to ruin the viewing of your favorite TV series yourself, without being able to blame a drunk girlfriend or a journalist who’s too happy to have seen several episodes in advance.

Self-spoiling, you should know, is never intentional. It results from a healthy curiosity or a legitimate need to clear up tangled plots, which then suck us into the depths of Reddit and the pages of completely obsessed fans. And they don’t get bogged down in polite formulas like: “spoiler alert, stop reading immediately if you haven’t watched the latest episode.”

It’s bing, bang, pow, welcome to this liquidation of spoilersit’s an all-you-can-eat buffet like at Saveurs des Continents in Mascouche.

A concrete example of self-disclosure? Last week, I was trying to draw the Targaryen family tree in The Dragon House (House of the Dragonon the Crave platform), where brothers sleep with their sisters and whose children then marry their uncles. In short, it’s complex and very twisted.

After a two and a half second search, bam, I knew how this TV series would end, which dragon would eat who, which main character would die and how, damn it.


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