I guess it’s like this:

Imagine an Ice Cream Shop. Or Frozen Yogurt trashfire, if you’re lactose intolerant. Doesn’t matter, so it’s ice cream.

You go in, ask for a scoop of their most popular flavor. And you get: a scoop of Vanilla. Which is great! You love that! Most people love that! You can get toppings, maybe something else with it, but Vanilla Ice Cream is great.

Someone else asks for something more specific. They get Fudge Ripple, or something. And the next person gets something more unusual than that.

Well, about 50 people order ice cream, each more unusual than the last. You’re surprised. But, it’s mostly just ice cream.

Then someone comes in, and says, “I want a chocolate dipped waffle cone that has sprinkles—chocolate, not rainbow—mixed in with the dip. The first scoop of ice cream will be mint chocolate chip, then seven gummy bears will separate the next layer, which is rum raisin that’s only scooped with your left hand, covered with candied pineapple chunks—no larger than a quarter of an inch, numbering 37—followed by a large scoop of lemon sorbet, hot fudge, cherry, whipped cream, peanut butter sauce, and covered in waffle cone pieces.”

That’s a pretty specific order. But, that’s what they like.

Then, someone comes in, orders exactly the same thing, but puts the cherry on top, instead of under the whipped cream.

Small differences matter to people. They like what they like. And, they might try lots of things. But, once they find their “perfect” thing, they’ll prefer that.

Anyway, that’s why people have favorite kinds of incest.