In the interest of science and self-discovery, I have subjected myself to dozens of these quizzes.  I now know what color I am (green), what breed of dog I am (Siberian husky), and what Disney character I most resemble (Peter Pan).  Register a Facebook account and you, too, can learn what philosopher you are (Me? Jean Paul Sartres), what Biblical character shares your tendencies (Apparently Elijah and I both have a tendency to voice our opinions and then become depressed when people don’t listen to us), or what world leader you are (For the life of me I cannot figure why my results came up with Mao Zedong).

Do you see yourself depicted in the arts?  What painting are you?  I am Margritte’s Son of Man.  My opera is Der Rosenkavalier, and the Beatles song I am most like is Let It Be.  I kind of like that I have Spiderman’s personality, and apparently I would get along with Chicago Cubs infielder Ryan Theriot.  I even know what biologist I am, about which I have always wondered (Gregor Mendel).  Those all sound much more impressive than what car I am, a Toyota Corolla.  Even my classic car alter ego is a bit of a disappointment, the 1965 Ford F100.  And the revelation that my M&M color is pink may send me back into real therapy.

I didn’t really want to know what serial killer I am or what fictional murderer I might identify with (and I must say the questions on the latter quiz were a bit disturbing).  My inner Smurf is Papa Smurf, begging the question, Which serial killer would Papa Smurf be? 

There are plenty of food and drink quizzes, too.  I am milk chocolate, which I have to admit sounds pretty tame.  At least my alcoholic drink is the margarita and not something with an umbrella, though I can think of many more manly beverages with which to be associated.

What interests me about these faux personality tests is what they reveal about the attraction and power of metaphor.  Each test result really just provides a colorful, unusual way of describing one’s self.  In fact, every quiz gives you the option of posting the result to your “profile” so that all your friends can see that your mythical creature is a unicorn or that your Crayola color is burnt sienna.  The point is not reflective introspection, but to share a description of yourself with others.

The quizzes are fun and silly and entertaining, and that’s all that anyone thinks of them or is supposed to think of them.  But I wonder if their popularity doesn’t say something about our desire to find ways of expressing who we think we are to others.  I wonder what it suggests about our desire to identify with ideas or personalities and to have others see us in those same ways. 

It is also interesting to note that these quizzes are themselves created by other Facebook users.  Some are more sophisticated than others – it seems like everyone who takes the What 80’s Rock Band Are You? Quiz ends up being Journey – but they all involve creating metaphors by translating the qualities of a thing or person into specific questions and then back again.  These people are not playing amateur psychologist as much as they are interpreting and authoring characters.

I have saved the best Facebook quiz for last.  There are multiple variations of What Facebook Quiz Are You?  Would we call that a meta-metaphor?