I like spoilers. I’m like Billy Crystal in When Harry Met Sally in that I like to flip to the back of the book to read the ending first, just so I know what’s going to happen. (Harry did it because he wanted to know the ending in case he died. I’m not that dark.) If we want to take a microscope to my psyche — which, sure, it’s Thursday — you could say my anxiety fuels a need to understand, to know, to palpate the things I’m watching as comprehensively as I can. Willful ignorance is dumb. Why would you blindfold yourself to the narrative twists of the plot of Game of Thrones when you can just look them up on Reddit? It doesn’t mean I enjoy Game of Thrones any less. It just means I’m not going in blind. Think of it as television reconnaissance — I get to know the layout of my TV shows before I watch them. I still get to enjoy the way the layout’s been orchestrated, but I’m not overwhelmed by some unnecessary surprise.