Before You Share ‘he Dies’ Posts—read This Van Der Beek Reality Check
Okay, let's talk about something. Something that might make you tilt your head, maybe let out a little chuckle, and possibly even nod your head vigorously in agreement. We're diving into the deep end of social media habits. Specifically, the habit of sharing those, shall we say, dramatic posts. You know the ones. The ones that make you gasp, clutch your pearls (metaphorically, of course), and furiously hit the "share" button. I'm talking about the ones that declare, with all the gravity of a Shakespearean tragedy, that 'He Dies'.
Now, before you start picturing a real-life mob hit on your timeline, let's clarify. We're not talking about actual, you know, people dying. We're talking about fictional characters. Characters we've invested hours in. Characters whose every triumph and tribulation has been our triumph and tribulation. We've watched them grow, we've seen them fall, and sometimes, we've even seen them… well, kick the bucket. And then, we feel it. That urge. That primal, internet-fueled urge to announce it. To be the harbinger of doom. To be the one to drop the spoiler bomb.
And I get it! I truly do. There's a certain thrill to it, isn't there? It's like you've unlocked a secret level. You're in on the juicy gossip before everyone else. You have the power to either delight or devastate your friends with a single click. It's the digital equivalent of whispering a juicy secret at the water cooler, but on a much, much grander scale. You're the gatekeeper of plot twists. The sheriff of spoilers.
But here's where I might tread on some very sensitive toes. Here's my little, perhaps unpopular, opinion. Maybe, just maybe, before we all rush to be the first to scream, "HE DIES!" into the digital ether, we should take a brief pause. A moment of reflection. A quick, tiny, Van Der Beek-esque reality check.
Think about it. We're not exactly uncovering a conspiracy here. We're discussing the plot of a television show or a movie. Something created for our entertainment. Something that, at its core, is meant to be enjoyed. And a huge part of that enjoyment, for many, is the element of surprise. The journey of discovery. The slow burn of anticipation.
Imagine you're an adventurer, about to embark on a grand quest. You've packed your virtual bags, you've chosen your virtual steed, and you're ready to face the unknown. Then, just as you're about to step through the ancient portal, someone taps you on the shoulder and says, "Oh, just so you know, the dragon at the end? Yeah, he dies. Big surprise, right?" Suddenly, the quest feels a little less… grand. A little less… surprising.
And let's be honest, a lot of these "He Dies" posts are less about genuine shock and more about manufactured drama. It's a way to grab attention. It's a way to get likes and comments. It's the social media equivalent of a theatrical sigh. "Oh, the tragedy! You'll never guess what happened!" And then, the revelation is often something we could have seen coming from a mile away.
I'm not saying you shouldn't discuss plot points. I'm not saying you can't be excited about a major twist. But perhaps, perhaps, we could consider the people who haven't had the chance to experience that twist yet. The people who are still on their own personal quest to reach the end of the episode. The people who might actually want to be surprised.
Remember that feeling? The genuine shock when something unexpected happened on screen? The way your jaw might have dropped, or you might have let out an involuntary squeak of disbelief? That's a special kind of magic. And when you share a "He Dies" post prematurely, you're essentially sprinkling a little bit of that magic away from someone else's viewing experience. You're stealing their thunder. You're spoiling the punchline before the joke has even landed.
It's like unwrapping your Christmas presents on Christmas Eve. You can do it, but then the actual joy of unwrapping them on Christmas morning is significantly diminished. You've seen the contents. The surprise is gone. The anticipation has evaporated.
So, next time you're about to unleash your inner spoiler alert, just take a deep breath. Think about the collective gasps that could be happening simultaneously around the world. Think about the genuine delight of discovery. Think about the sheer, unadulterated joy of being surprised. And maybe, just maybe, consider letting the drama unfold naturally. Let others experience the shock, the awe, the heartbreak, and the eventual, inevitable, "He Dies" moment for themselves. It's a small act of digital kindness, really. And who knows, it might even make your own shared excitement even more rewarding when you do discuss it with people who are on the same page.
Maybe, just maybe, we could all benefit from a little more "Wait and see" and a little less "I'll tell you what happens next." Just a thought. No need to panic. The fictional dragons are still safe… for now.