The loss of monoculture

As time goes on, more and more media is released, and we have less awareness of it. Before the explosion of the internet:

• You probably had a vague awareness of all the musicians that played in the biggest stadium in your city. Now, would you even know a tenth of them?
• You'd probably seen a lot of the same movies as your friends. Now, when was the last time you discussed a film with your friends?

When I listened to Dungeons and Daddies, I realised that I loved the chemistry of their group because they all have a familiar pool of references they draw on. I enjoyed their talk show about the D&D podcast as much as the D&D itself. I think it's because they played the same games, watched the same films, and spent copious time talking about them together.

Back in the day, I think we had something akin to a "monoculture"; a collection of films, games, books and shows that you could talk about with most people - or at least most of your friends. I don't think we have this anymore. It was relieving when I heard Blindboy talk about this in The medieval origins of 2fm Radio DJ voice, because I'm left wishing I had this with my friends. Reading quippy one-liners on Letterboxd doesn't hit as hard for me as impersonating Shrek and Donkey; quoting memes that half the friend group hasn't seen doesn't feel the same as grieving the latest character death on Game of Thrones. I don't think I'll watch Lost now, but I kinda wish I'd grown up when it was at its cult-moment.

Ultimately, I wish I had friends to chat about the stuff I've seen with. This is why I make an effort to curate things; my curated media lists are a search query for finding people who fuck with the same stuff as me (and a propaganda list of book/film/game clubs I'll someday join in my future community).

The age of technology has not made it easier to form a monoculture; if anything, algorithms have made it harder. I believe the only reasonable way to join or make one is to seek human-curated lists and make them yourself.