Description:

Sometime during the Barbarian Invasions the dying Rémy and his friends reminisce about all the -isms they had subscribed to in their younger days. They have a good laugh.
Now that they'd moved past it. The conceptualised ideologies of their youths have changed and evolved and devolved. And so had they. Rémy and his friends. Presumably. 

Most everyone else, well, maybe not so much. Devolved, yes. Moved on, maybe... Up or down? Doesn't it matter...

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Ismologies

It may be due to our inherent sense of belonging, our need to connect, relate to others. A community. Our fear of being left out. Ignored. Past over. 
Which in turn I'd argue is a bite-sized variation, scaled, portioned, rationed down - easier to digest version of one of our biggest fears. 
The one of not mattering at all. To come and go - without leaving a mark. 

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But here's the thing - say, you support a sports team. Or a band. An actor. You exercise your support in the form of joining a fan club. An online forum. What have you. 

 

That's your mark? Your legacy? 

 

Oh? It's not? 

 

But it makes you feel better to connect to all those assholes that support the same thing as you - you must have so much in common. 

 

I am sure you do. 

Throughout life your may see generational talent come and go. Leaving their marks on the sport and your life. The idol might have had a most miserable time. 
 

Suffering and pain. And then end it all because they can't take it anymore. None of it. 

But they gave you meaning. They gave you everything. They gave everything they had. 

 

A single superstar throwing their guts out onto the field. So their team of a few dozen wins a championship. So that thousands at the time, millions over the years, 
can say 'we won it - that one time'. 

 

The stars might become immortal for their feat. They might be dead a few days later. You can talk about it for years and years. 

 

Here's a dilemma. My dilemma.

 

A while back I was telling someone about one my favourite bands. They challenged it right away: You say that a lot "one of favourites".

 

Yes - I do. 

 

You could put a gun to my head and an army of tanks and press me to name my favourite food, band, movie, book whatever. 

 

I'd have a really hard time to name one.

 

You do the same thing 5 minutes later. Or the next day. My struggle to give an answer would be the same. My answer probably a different one. 

 

The same thing, if you meet someone new and you talk about this and that - and at some point you ask "what's your favourite XYZ?"
 

The only answer you (usually) want to hear is the same you'd give if anyone bothered to ask you. 

 

Because that tiny, bit of information - which is completely irrelevant in the large scales of things, would make you think you have a special connection. 

 

Ask my what my favourite food is. 

 

Go on.

 

Do it!

 

There's a 99% change I'd tell you cereals or sandwich. 

 

No - I cannot elaborate beyond that. Not narrow down what type of... 

 

I like a good steak, a lot more than most vegans. But I'd not want to prepare or eat one anytime of the day. 

 

I am sure I can enjoy a steak'n egg sandwich when I feel like it. I am not sure I want to think what steak'n egg cereal would be like.

 

And, no, it never occured to me to combine sandwich and cereal into one dish. But don't let that stop you... 

 

Here's another one: my favourite fictional character.

 

Can't name one. I could name many, though... 

 

In the end, I guess, it boils down to this: 
If you break anything down to its lowest common denominator, it's bound to appeal to many. 

 

I guess that why it's got the words lowest and common in its name... 

 

That doesn't really sound special...

 

Which is weird.

 

We're brought up and told we're all special and unique and extra-ordinary. Yet, in the end, we often end have living rather mundane and ordinary lives. 

 

Speaking for myself that is. 

 

I reckon the challenge lies in finding the beauty in that. In what you have and what is. 

 

Good luck with that - in world dominated by what you don't have and what is not.

 

On a final note, if I were to be stranded on an empty island - the 3 things I'd bring:
a stack of paper, a pen, and depending on my mood or the weather of the day I'd either opt for a comfortable chair or something to block the sun. 

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I used to think it'd be that album or book or something else. 

 

But lately I think I'd prefer that seeing I'd be stuck with my own thoughts I'd prefer a way to sort them out, over being stuck inside someone else's head.

 

And besides, if anyone ever came to that island after I am gone I'd hate for that person to conclude:
I guess Simon only had 'this' for company - sucks to have been him. 

 

I would not want for that to be my mark on the forlorn island.

 

I'd much rather they thought I was a complete idiot on my own merit. 

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Never compromise - if you can...