Chuck Klosterman IV is rife with meme fodder. The Klostermeme series will feature these questions, my answers, my speculations on how Klosterman would answer and an invitation to the reader to answer these questions in the comments! It will also challenge my recollection Roman numerals.
And so…
At the age of 30, you suffer a blow to the skull. The head trauma leaves you with a rare form of partial amnesia – though you are otherwise fine, you’re completely missing 5 years from your life. You have no memory of anything that happened between the ages of 23 and 28. That period of your life is completely gone; you have no recollection of anything that occurred during that 5 year gap.
You are told by friends and family that – when you were 25 – you (supposedly) became friends with someone you met on the street. You possess numerous photos of you and this person, and everyone in your life insists that this individual was your best friend for over 2 years. You were (allegedly) inseparable. In fact, you find several old letters and emails from this person that vaguely indicate you may have even shared a brief romantic relationship. But something happened between you and this individual when you were 27, and the friendship abruptly ended (and apparently you never told anyone what caused this schism, so it remains a mystery to all). The friend moved away soon after the incident, wholly disappearing from your day-to-day life. But you have no memory of any of this. Within the context of your own mind, this person never even existed. There is tangible proof that you deeply loved this friend, but – whenever you look at their photograph – all you see is a stranger.
Six weeks after your accident, you are informed that this person has suddenly died.
How sad do you feel?
My Answer: Probably pretty sad but I’m mourning the loss of my memory more than I am my dead friend whom I don’t remember. I imagine losing those years would take quite an emotional toll on me. I do so love to remember the past. Of course, then my unshakable Catholic Guilt would kick in and I would mourn not mourning my friend enough. It’s a vicious spiral.
Klosterman Theory: Not sad at all.
My answer: Because the music you like is part of your identity. Like with books and movies, people seek out others who agree with your taste. That’s not to say that I couldn’t be friends with a U2 fan. Plenty of people in my circle love them. But it’s easier to share the common bond of taste. You can go to shows together. You can talk about the lyrics you like. You can identify on a deeper level using music as a template. Not only that, but having been into metal and then punk and indie in high school, that was part of my rebellion. It was how I differentiated myself from the right wing assholes I went to school with. There were lyrics about alienation and punk culture that I related to. I never felt the same way about the crap they liked. It was shallow. Would I have turned out the same way if I’d found emotional significance in the Dave Mathews Band rather than The Smiths? I think not. Klosterman says that I wouldn’t experience a change in my personality, but this is impossible. I might still be a liberal who attempts to do the right thing. I might still love nature and animals. I might be a happy goth. But I would be listening to Matchbox 20. This is incongruous. I would find Sugar Ray lyrics satisfying. There is no way that I wouldn’t undergo a fundamental change in my personality. I like my personality. I like my friends and my husband. That is why I would be sad. 
However, this new owner intends to enforce a somewhat radical dress code: every day, men will have to wear tuxedos, tails, and a top hat (during the summer months, male employees will be allowed to wear gray three-piece suits on “casual Fridays”). Women must exclusively work in formal wear, preferably ball gowns or prom dresses. Each employee will be given an annual $500 stipend to purchase necessary garments, but that money can only be spent on work-related clothing. 
Predictably, the criminal proceedings are a national sensation (on par with the 1994 O.J. Simpson trial). It’s on television constantly, and it’s the lead story in most newspapers for almost a year. The prosecuting attorney is a charming genius; sadly, your defense team lacks creativity and panache. To make matters worse, the jury is a collection of easily confused sheep. You are found guilty and sentenced to four consecutive life terms with virtually no parole (and – since there were no procedural mistakes during the proceedings – an appeal is hopeless). 
Somehow, you have the ability to stop this attack from happening. You can magically save your friend from the bear. But his (or her) salvation will come at a peculiar price: If you choose to stop the bear, it will always rain. For the rest of your life, wherever you go, it will be raining. Sometimes it will pour and sometimes it will drizzle – but it will never not be raining. But it won’t rain over the totality of the earth, nor will the hydrological cycle be disrupted; these storm clouds will be isolated, and they will focus entirely on your specific whereabouts. You will never see the sun again. 
My answer: Without giving away too much detail or meditating too deep on what events I chose, I’m will say that my motivation for both was love. So…pretty similar. 
Effed by the Wind 