The A.V. Club has posted its list of the best books of the “00‘s”. Of course, it’s spawned a whole series of arguments (that’s what happens when you judge things), but it’s grand to watch them unfold in the list’s own comment section, as opposed to springing up across disassociated blogs. It’s one-stop-shopping, really.

I’ve actually read a couple of the books on this list, which is not something I can normally claim. Not that my own experience is typical or anything, but I can’t help wondering….

Seeing a book that I liked on a list causes a brief flicker of anxiety about the possibility that my taste is “conventional,” or possibly, has been overtaken by convention. It’s rather like the feeling one gets when one falls in love with a New York Times’ Bestseller, or a Billboard Top 100. There is a fear (however fleeting) that one loves what one does due to some sweeping, inexorable, statistical trend, rather than one’s own free will.

Silly? Of course it’s silly-I’m too old to care about being unconventional. (And actually, you’re never supposed to care about it-it’s supposed to be effortless.) I’ve reached that point in my life where it’s expected that I will become continually more conventional, over time. By this point I should have a family, a mortgage, and I should totally love The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Klay.

So, two out of three isn’t so bad, right?