The Friend Who's Never Seen Anything (Except Everything Else)

A Study in Selective Cultural Blindness

One person in every friend group has never seen any movie.

You’ll reference The Matrix and they’re like “What’s that?” Titanic? Nope. Star Wars? Never heard of it.

But somehow, they’ve seen every episode of a Norwegian reality show about competitive knitting.

Every friend group has this person.

You know who I’m talking about.

The one who makes you question whether they’ve been living in the same timeline as the rest of us.

You’ll be having a normal conversation. Someone makes a reference. A basic reference. Something everyone knows.

“It’s like when Neo takes the red pill….”

“Who’s Neo?”

The conversation stops.

Everyone turns. Surely they’re joking.

Nope, they’re not joking.

“The Matrix? You’ve never seen The Matrix?”

“No. What’s it about?”

And now you’re in the impossible position of explaining The Matrix to someone in 2025 without sounding completely unhinged.

“So there’s this guy, and he’s in a computer simulation, but he doesn’t know it’s a simulation, and then he takes a pill and—”

“Is it good?”

“Is it - YES. It’s The Matrix. Everyone’s seen The Matrix.”

“I haven’t.”

This is the moment you realise: they haven’t seen anything. Not The Godfather. Not Jurassic Park. Not even Shrek.

SHREK.

“How have you not seen Shrek? It’s been on television every weekend for twenty years.”

“I don’t really watch movies.”

There it is.

The explanation. Simple. Direct. Infuriating. “I don’t really watch movies.”

As if movies are optional. As if the entire collective cultural experience of the last century is just a hobby some people happen to have.

But here’s the thing: they’re not culturally isolated.

They’re not living off-grid in a cabin with no internet. They’re consuming media. LOTS of media.

Just... none of the media anyone else has consumed.

• You’ve never seen Star Wars, but you’ve watched all 47 episodes of a Danish documentary series about sustainable farming?

• You haven’t seen Titanic, but you can recite entire scenes from a Japanese game show where people get knocked into water by giant rotating objects?

• You’ve never heard of Indiana Jones, but you’re completely up to date on a Korean mukbang channel where someone eats seafood for six hours straight?

How does this happen?

How do you navigate the entire internet, every streaming service, every recommendation algorithm, and somehow avoid every single piece of widely-known pop culture?

It’s like they have a filter.

An Anti-Mainstream Filter. If more than 10 million people have seen it, they haven’t.

But if it’s a niche documentary about Icelandic moss preservation?

They’re experts.

The worst part is when they try to contribute to the conversation.

“I haven’t seen The Matrix, but I did watch this really interesting YouTube series about people who live in simulations…..”

“THAT’S THE MATRIX. YOU JUST DESCRIBED THE MATRIX.”

“Oh. Is it like that?”

“YES. EXACTLY LIKE THAT. WHICH IS WHY EVERYONE REFERENCES IT.”

But they won’t watch it.

They’ll go home and watch a 12-part Finnish series about competitive ice fishing instead.

And next week, when someone mentions Forrest Gump, they’ll say, “What’s that?”

I used to think this was frustrating.

Now I’m fascinated.

How do you curate your media consumption so precisely that you miss everything everyone else has seen? What algorithm are you following? What recommendations are you accepting?

Because honestly?

It’s kind of impressive.

You’ve successfully avoided decades of cultural touchstones while still being online.

You’re like a ghost at the party. Everyone can see you, you’re participating, but you’re somehow not really there.

And the most annoying part?

You’re completely fine with it.

You’re not embarrassed you haven’t seen Star Wars.

You’re not worried about missing references.

You’re just vibing with your Norwegian knitting show.

Meanwhile, the rest of us are stuck explaining basic plot points like we’re describing colour to someone who’s never seen it.

“So the ship hits an iceberg…….”

“What ship?”

I give up.

Tell me more about competitive knitting. Who’s winning? Is it the guy with the woolly socks?