Sometime last week, I finished season 5 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, with the big shocker of the episode being that she passes away at the end of it. I already knew that she was going die because I've seen two episodes in the following season, but it still came across as quite shocking and surprising. Once the episode was over, the only thing I wanted to do was talk about it and although the friend I was watching with, another Buffy fan, stayed for a few minutes to chat, she was in a rush so we couldn't further delve into it. To me, Buffy's death was brand new but to everyone else watching the show, it had happened slightly over 6 years ago.
That's one of the frustrating things about being behind on something. Whether it be a current television show that everyone talks about the next day but you're woefully behind for various reasons (for me, that'd be Lost) or a show, like Buffy, that's already off the air but you're catching up on DVD.
A very basic response to something entreatingly shocking is to discuss but when everyone's sick of talking about or considers it to long ago to care about, you're basically stuck thinking about it internally.
It works the same with music and books. After I listen to, let's say, Dylan's Self Portrait or Roxy Music's Siren, it's tough to find someone to talk about Dylan's terrible cover of "Blue Moon" or the greatness of Bryan Ferry. After I finished Dicken's Great Expectations, I wanted to talk about which ending other people preferred but I was pretty much left to a person or two and the general consesus on the internet: the sad one.
I guess what I should do is watch, listen and read everything exactly when it comes out. Well, maybe not. So, I guess I'll have to wait until the next shocking moment on Buffy which, at the very least, will be closer to the present day than her death episode.