The rise of the internet and the subsequent information age have given rise to more than a few social phenomena. I'm no anthropologist, so I won't get into most of it, being that the intricacies of what actually constitutes a "social phenomenon" are probably beyond my current scope of knowledge. What I have gleaned from my time on the internet, especially the time spent looking through comment sections on various sites, is that millions of people use the web as a forum to spread and share their opinions and thoughts. It seems everybody has an opinion that they consider to be insightful and unique, and they are often eager to express those views, even if their view is just agreeing with another view that was previously mentioned. If you've ever peeked at a comment section on some type of informational article, then you know that these aren't exactly groundbreaking observations. What you probably don't know, is that these observations actually have very little to do with the point of this post, it was really just a convoluted intro/segue into what I really wanted to get at. So if you were hoping I would go off on a highly vitriolic, ultimately hypocritical rant on the trolls of the internet, then I'm sorry to disappoint you, but genuinely happy (and a little befuddled) that you're reading my blog.
Anyway, I wanted to get into one of the ideas I mentioned, the thought that everyone has a separate, insightful, and unique view on anything and everything. It's not a crazy idea, is it? Especially since everyone's special in their own way, right? Eh, I guess, if you subscribe to that kindergarten-esque school of thought. I won't deny that it's impossible for any two human beings to have faced the exact same circumstances in their lives (there's always a variable, location, number of siblings, financial, always something), and by that logic you could very well argue that everyone is special and not be wrong. But as social creatures, humans tend to fall into categories. Hipster, nerd, jock, cosplay enthusiast, whatever, there's a classification for just about every pattern of thinking and acting that exists. So while your kindergarten teacher didn't really lie when she told you that everyone is special, chances are that nobody is as special as they think. "Alright", you're thinking to yourself, " that sounds a little cynical and pessimistic. I mean, I'm sure that I'm one of a kind. If not that, I'm at least one in a million, and that's still pretty damned special". And I'll take your word for it, actually, I'm glad that you think you're one in a million, because that's the whole god-damned reason I wanted to make this post anyway, it just took me two paragraphs to get into it. Let's play a numbers game!
As to not antagonize anyone who might be reading this (hah!), I'll start by classifying myself as one in a million. Lucky me, right? Sure. You'd probably have to search long and hard to find someone else like me, nameless subway performer. Well, there are roughly 7 billion people on earth, so for a person who's one in a million, such as myself, that means there are approximately seven thousand people out there who are just like me. Still, seven thousand people spread out across the globe could get pretty sparse in stretches, so lets assume that all seven thousand of my doppelgangers are spread out evenly, with one for every million in each nation. So, Adele, let's say that you wanted to find someone like me (in retrospect, this post would've been a lot shorter, and probably more entertaining if I had gone with "Someone Like You" as the focal point, rather than the roundabout, nonsensical way I went about it. Oh well, its too late to change now) in the USA and its population of about 300 million, you'd have a pool of about 300 candidates to choose from, provided you could find them. Assuming the 300 of me are dispersed evenly across the nation, according to province, not population density, you can expect to find about 6 of me in each of the 50 states. So, to have a realistic shot of finding someone like me, you'd be well served to go to either a small state (New Jersey, Rhode Island, Hawaii), or a state that isn't very densely populated (anywhere in the Midwest, I guess).
So I guess I haven't done a great job dismantling this whole "everybody's special" notion. Sure it doesn't sound as fancy as "one in a million", but six of you for every state in America is still a pretty good individual to populace ratio. So now lets assume that everyone is one in a million, since no one is likely to admit that they're anything less than special. As per our previous math, that would indicate that there are about 7000 different types of people in this world, and at least 300 different types in America. And this is where my argument stops being an argument, and starts being an abstract conjecture. Are there really seven thousand different types of people in this world? Of all the people you've met and interacted with, can you really file each of them away into seven thousand separate categories? Or three hundred even? Maybe its me, maybe I'm too dismissive and don't take enough time to appreciate the differences between folk, but I feel like fifty would be a hard number to get to. Of course, that number largely depends on your search criteria, so you could likely classify people seven thousand different ways if you sat around and thought about it long enough. Or based it on latitude and longitude or something.
Maybe I'm just being cynical when I think aloud that people aren't as special as they think they are, or maybe I'm on to something. Not quite sure, but it made me think, and that's a good thing, right?
C
