You hear about all these people who claim that they were Egyptian princesses or Aztec warriors or such in a former life. That’s not terribly interesting to me. You know who I want to have been in a former life?
Anonymous, that’s who.
No, not the unknown anonymous. The Anonymous that everyone’s heard of. Anonymous, the author of thousands of songs, stories, and poems. Now, that would be a cool former life.
“Oh, you were Napoleon in a former life? And you were George Washington? And you were a random peasant somewhere in England who lost all your teeth by twenty and were dead in childbirth before twenty-five? (Just between us, I buy your story more than I buy those other two pompous weirdos.)
“Well, friends, I trump you all. I was more famous in a former life than any of you could dream of being, for I was…Anonymous.
“You haven’t heard of me? Well, of course not, but you certainly know my work. The early English play “Everyman”? Mine. The Song of Roland? Mine. “Ring around the rosy”? Mine. The entire contents of Child’s ballad collections? Mine.
“What do you mean, how did I manage to write things in multiple centuries and countries? By being reincarnated as Anonymous more than once, of course! Sheesh, ask a silly question….”
Yeah. That would be very cool.
