Disclosure: there are no spoilers ahead.

I didn’t even bother doing the electronic version of plugging my ears doing the “la la la la la I can’t hear you” thing for this — the morning after The Sopranos grand finale. I’m at least a couple seasons behind and there’s just no way I would be able to avoid hearing the details in the time it took my lazy ass to catch up to this season. I will not pay it forward, however, and spoil you with the spoilers.

But hoo boy, last year when a certain blogger blogged the blogging blogosphere with a spoiler about Season Three of Project Runway, without any kind of “look out below!” warning, I was incensed! He also is one of the boogers who spoiled the Sopranos today. Well, I took action: I am not providing a link to his site and I have removed his RSS feed from my Bloglines reader! Take that! You do not want to mess with me!

What is the trip with that? I think there’s some kind of cachet about having watched something the very first time it comes on — like it’s not so special if you wait for Tivo or (for lazy/cheap asses like me) DVD. So, there’s an insider kind of glee when reducing the experience for the johnnies-come-lately.

I remember the National Lampoon, in its glorious 70s heyday, had a section called “Spoilers”, which was exactly what it sounds like. I remember that being so audacious! Oh man, that magazine.

[Insert yearning paragraph here about how much cooler the 70s were.]

I leave you with an image apropos of very little: my sweet, elderly, tiny, chirpy mom was addicted to The Sopranos after it came out on DVD. As in: sitting in the dark of the TV room till the wee hours, watching and rewatching entire seasons without break. Even I could not out-veg her. One Christmas — her last, I think — she was hunkered down with Season Two all afternoon. I was charged with going in and attempting to pry her off the couch and join the real world (in an amusing Freaky Friday-style switching of roles). I peered into the darkness of the tiny room, trying to make out her form in the flicker of gunfire.

Me: Mom! It is time to turn off the damn TV! Come and be with the humans for a while!

Mom: {silence}

Me: I mean it, mother. You’re worse than a teenager.

Mom: Don’t bust my balls.

Photo: Spoiled, originally uploaded by dandegez. Thanks for letting me use it!