Spoiler Warning

Today is Wednesday. For those of you who aren't comic book geeks (which may be everyone who reads this blog), Wednesday is new comics day, the day a new shipment arrives at comic book shops everywhere. Today a comic is coming out that is supposed to be relatively important as far as stories in a shared fictional universe go. I'll be heading to Comics Dungeon this afternoon to pick it up. This morning I took a look at my preferred comics news site, as I do several times a day, and saw a story referring to an article in today's New York Daily News that apparently gives away the last-page reveal of this important comic that's coming out today. I resisted the urge to click on the link.

This goes against my nature, and it's hurting.

I knew about the twist at the end of The Sixth Sense two years before I saw it. I enjoyed watching the movie knowing what was coming, catching all the little clues that most people probably didn't notice until the second time they watched it.

I knew about the death at the end of Harry Potter Book 6 before I ever picked up Book 1. Again, it was kind of cool to read the story knowing what was coming. But I resisted seeing any major spoilers about Book 7 before reading it, so I was totally shocked when Harry died at the end. (Just kidding, Cricket. That was for you.)

I must admit, it's not uncommon for me to look at my Amazon.com wishlist before my birthday or Christmas to see what people have bought for me. I wouldn't want them to tell me what they got--part of the fun of ruining the surprise is finding out for myself.

My justification is that I don't actually ruin the surprise; I just experience it earlier. I wonder, though, if by removing the surprise experience from the reading experience or viewing experience or gift-opening experience, I'm missing out on something. This is why, if I can, I'm going to avoid reading that New York Daily News article until after I read my new comics this afternoon. I'll report back on whether saving the surprise makes my comics reading that much more transcendental.

Mr. Fob the Humbly Glorious

At FoxyJ's insistence, I've taken a Myers Briggs personality test. And then I took another. Both say I'm an INFJ, extremely strong on the N (intuitive), fairly strong on the I (introverted) and J (judging), and just barely F (feeling). It's apparently a rare combination--about 1% of the population. I'm flattered by the comparison made between this personality type (called "Confidant" or "Counselor") and people like Gandhi, MLK Jr., Eleanor Roosevelt, Jane Goodall, and most of all Shirley Temple, but I'm suspicious that this is describing not so much who I am as who I'd like to think I am. Take for example this description:

Beneath the quiet exterior, INFJs hold deep convictions about the weightier matters of life. Those who are activists -- INFJs gravitate toward such a role -- are there for the cause, not for personal glory or political power.

Actually, to be honest, I'm quite fond of personal glory. Not that I know what to do with it when I have it, but that doesn't mean it's not, like, one of the chief motivators behind everything I do.

But then again, who am I to question the authority of a 75-question online personality test? I obviously don't care about personal glory, if that's what the test says. So go on, tell me how wonderful I am for being so unconcerned with what people think of me. I know that's what you're thinking.