Spoilers below!

Ever seen the movie “Raiders of the Lost Ark”? It’s a movie about archeologists who try to find the lost Ark of the Covenant. If you haven’t seen it, it’s very, very good. And here’s a tidbit of information you should know before you watch the film: They find the Ark. All the bad guys die at the end, and then they pack the Ark into a mysterious government warehouse, never to be seen again. Did I just spoil the ending? Oops.

As my mom and dad used to say before forcing me to handwrite thank you notes, it’s easy to get spoiled in today’s society. When a movie, TV show or book gets made with a secret twist that is supposed to surprise the audience, the “secret” passes through dozens, hundreds or even thousands of hands before it reaches those who want to be surprised. And with the Internet’s ability to rapidly disseminate information, any one of those hands could anonymously become the weakest link in the chain.

I love spoilers. I love the rush I get from knowing what the solution to a mystery is. A combination of Google, YouTube and Wikipedia has served to help me ruin the endings of many works that I’m interested in but haven’t taken the time to read or watch. I know, for example, the bleak ending of “The Dark Tower,” what the island in “Lost” is for, and that the scrappy little basketball team in “Hoosiers” ends up beating the mean old powerhouse team in the championship.

Numerous people have chided me for this problem. A friend of mine took me to task recently because (paraphrased and censored) “the answer isn’t the point, the experience of getting to the answer is.” And ultimately, though it’s taken me a long time to admit it, they’re right. I remember fondly the summer of 2008, when “The Dark Knight” was released. I tried an experiment for the movie: I did my best to remain spoiler-free. I walked into the theater with as little information as possible and simply sat there and watched with an open attitude. It was one of the best film experiences of my life, and a large part of that was because I didn’t know exactly what to expect. As a comics fan, I knew the basic plot arc: Batman will beat up criminals. The Joker will do something weird. (Actual spoiler alert) Harvey Dent will, at some point or another, become Two-Face (end actual spoiler alert). But the joy of it was seeing how it all unfolded, all the little side turns and details that fleshed out what I already vaguely knew.

I’m a senior in college. The real world looms in a few months. For a very long time, I’ve wanted to know what is going to happen to me after I graduate. Will I be happy working a 9-to-5 job? Where will I live? Do I end up married? What kind of family will I have (if I have one)? Is it still socially acceptable to play laser tag after I graduate? I want spoilers for my own life, but there’s not a website in the world that can tell me the answers to these questions.

It took me a long, long time to let go of this desire. I’ve always laughed at the cliched advice I’ve heard from people regarding enjoying college and not worrying about the future, but now I understand why it’s a cliche—because it’s true. I don’t know what’s going to happen to me, exactly. I know I will have a job and will hopefully get married and have a family and all the rest of the “plot points” from real life. But I’m OK with not knowing exactly how it goes.

The new season of “Doctor Who” is starting soon, and it’s supposed to have some crazy twists. I’ll be following them as they happen and enjoying them the same way I’ll be enjoying my adult life: spoiler-free.

Harrison Lee is a Trinity senior. His column runs every other Monday.