The sad thing is that title probably got your attention. And now that you have opened up today's postings and you see the cover of the last Harry Potter book to the right, I'm supposing you think I've got some inside dope on what happens to this little geek. Sorry. You've probably read on earlier days. The whole phenomenon has been lost on me. I read the first book on a flight from LAX to Newark. I saw the first movie on a flight from JFK to LAX. If it wasn't for being held captive at 35,000 feet, I probably wouldn't even know this much. I have skipped the last two dozen or so installments, both written and cinematic. Harry will just have to fly around on his broom without me.
But, of course, I have a lot of friends who have been sucked into this literary Oreck. And frenzy is abounding with the release of the last adventure that will ever be written about Harry Potter. Unless, of course, the author blows through all her jack and needs to revisit for the sake of the almighty pound a couple of years down the road. Hell, if there could be a Godfather 3, there certainly could be a book about Harry cheating on his wife at some motel in Piccadilly. But, I digress...
The media has been all over these leaks about the ending to the series. Is this the real ending? Does Harry die? Does anybody die? Will he support Hillary or Obama for the nomination? It's been a torrent of ridiculousness.
The concept of "a spoiler" has taken on a viral life of its own, like Legionnaire's Disease in a Philadelphia hotel. For some inane reason, people have to know endings before they happen. Entertainment cannot be enjoyed for entertainment's sake. They have to know in advance what kind of fun they will be having. Je ne comprend pas.
If you poke around the internet, you can find accurate and inaccurate spoilers for most any TV show, movie, or play. Script pages are leaked. Secrets are revealed. "Insiders" are telling you what will happen six or seven TV episodes down the road.
It all sucques. In the process, the actual experience of enjoying a piece of art, whether it be written, filmed, or performed, is diminished. Now, how much fun would the final scene of the "Newhart" have been if you knew in advance that it was all Bob's dream and he wakes up in bed with Suzanne Pleshette? Would this scene have worked as well?
How riveted would you have been to your TV set if you knew months earlier that Kristin was the one who shot JR Ewing?
People in the arts have always gone through a lot of trouble to prevent leaks from happening. I can remember movie ads that proclaimed "Nobody will be seated in the last 15 minutes." "Do not reveal the surprise ending to your friends." And everybody paid attention as if the theater manager would show up at your house with a gun if you did. But, back in the day, you could swear an inner circle to silence and nobody would bother them. These days, with the instant gratification infection everybody suffers from, you can't escape this demand to know beforehand. I am guilty of looking at some internet boards for 24. Towards the end of last season, you had to see just how many season endings were posted under the guise of authenticity. Ultimately, none of them were correct. But, it all winds up contributing to the greater non-good of us all.
Way back in the early 80s, lots of people were anticipating the last episode of M*A*S*H*. How would it end? What would happen? Could they possibly explain how a three year conflict lasted 11 years on television? Now, I had a friend who was one of the producers of the show and actually contributed to the writing of the final episode, which was filmed out of sequence and months before it would ultimately air in February, 1983. He came to NY on vacation after it was filmed and we met for lunch. There, at the Oyster Bar in Grand Central Station, he proceeded to tell me blow-by-blow how the series would end. Right down to the final shot of the rocks that spelled out "Goodbye" to Hawkeye. The only caveat he gave me? "Don't spread this around." And I didn't. What would be the point?
So, when the 2 and a 1/2 hour finale aired, there were virtually no surprises for me. And the whole experience was dulled completely. Your honor, I rest my case.
Folks, just let it alone. Wait for the freakin' book to come out. Watch the show when it airs. And enjoy. Just revel in the one spoiler that all of us have.
Eventually, we all are going to die.
Dinner last night: French Dip Sandwich with Ham plus side of cole slaw and potato salad at Philippe's.
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