Regular readers of this blog will know that last week I celebrated my 31st birthday; and though (as I've already said) I'm feeling extremely confident about the future, the passing of another year has got me thinking about certain stuff; namely, this little split I got going on in my personality. It's a split that bugged me for something like fifteen years, and it's only in the last few years that I've come to realise that the split isn't in fact anything real; but only something I created out of my own preconceptions about what I could or should be. To give you some idea of what I'm talking about, here's a transcript of a little conversation I recently had with my alter-ego (repetitions, digressions and other bullshit edited from the following text)...
Hey, you.
Who, me?
Yeah, you. Do you know who this is?
Uh, I don't know. (pause) The Candyman?
Yeah, right, smartass. You know who I am. This is your straight-talking, no-nonsense alter-ego, Luisa-Charlotte.
Straight-talking? No-nonsense? You sure you're my alter-ego?
Motherfucking asshole... If I wasn't just a figurative representation of your subconscious, I'd bitch-slap you from here to eternity!
Yeah well, you are just a figurative whatever-it-is of my whatever-it-is. So why are you here?
I just stopped by to see how you've been dealing with those two sides of your personality. You know, the two totally different sides you've never been able to choose between.
Oh, that. Well, let me tell you now, it was real difficult to begin with. One half of me - the half that wanted to be a sober, scholarly academic type - was planning on a nice, big, successful career as a psychologist. You know the drill; college, university, and then a nice, comfortable career with a nice, comfortable middle-class lifestyle to boot! The whole nine yards, yeah? The other half, though - that didn't want to be no comfortable middle-class psychoanalyst, living in the suburbs with a wife and kids, and slowly hatching a cancer of the prostate, you know? The other half of me wanted to be a drop-out; a rebel; a badass tranny punk rocker, throwing himself around on stage with a bass guitarist, smashing shit up and wanking off over the crowd! Now, it don't take much thought to recognise that these two ambitions ain't exactly compatible, you dig?
No shit. So what happened?
Well, for a long time I was batting back and forwards between these two ideals like a motherfucker! I even got as far as going to uni to study psychology, with the intention of one day becoming a psychoanalyst. I dropped out though; and though there were lot of reasons behind that particular decision, the main reason was that I didn't just want to be an academic; I also wanted to be an artist.
So how'd you end up dealing with it?
Well, things became a lot easier once I realised that it was actually possible for me to be a rebel and a smartass at the same time. For that to happen, though, I needed a role model.
And did you find one?
Did I find one? No shit! It was William S. Burroughs who made me realise you can have your cock and eat it. See, Burroughs was a hardcore academic - he'd been to Harvard, had absorbed the whole of Western culture, could talk about any motherfucking subject under the sun; and he was totally straight in appearance, too...looked and dressed like a motherfucking bank clerk, you know? And yet he also happened to be the writer of Naked Lunch; was friends with punk rockers, artists and a shitload of other weirdos - and of course, he was also the biggest junky on Earth! Yeah, it was Burroughs who made me realise I could be both artist and academic combined.
So how things going for you now?
Shit's sweet. Been building up the beginnings of my career as an artist with all these different sites and shit I got going. Great way to get my stuff out there and get recognised, you know? Creating new stuff, putting it up, getting props, making contacts...who knows what it could lead to? And in every piece of shit I now turn out, I'm never afraid to take every goddamn opportunity to be as smart or as silly as I want to be...
That's cool, man; that's real cool.
Better believe it.
Yeah, yeah... (pause) Say, you don't happen to know where I can get hold of some junk, do you? It's just I phoned up my regular dealer, but the guy got smashed...
Hey, you.
Who, me?
Yeah, you. Do you know who this is?
Uh, I don't know. (pause) The Candyman?
Yeah, right, smartass. You know who I am. This is your straight-talking, no-nonsense alter-ego, Luisa-Charlotte.
Straight-talking? No-nonsense? You sure you're my alter-ego?
Motherfucking asshole... If I wasn't just a figurative representation of your subconscious, I'd bitch-slap you from here to eternity!
Yeah well, you are just a figurative whatever-it-is of my whatever-it-is. So why are you here?
I just stopped by to see how you've been dealing with those two sides of your personality. You know, the two totally different sides you've never been able to choose between.
Oh, that. Well, let me tell you now, it was real difficult to begin with. One half of me - the half that wanted to be a sober, scholarly academic type - was planning on a nice, big, successful career as a psychologist. You know the drill; college, university, and then a nice, comfortable career with a nice, comfortable middle-class lifestyle to boot! The whole nine yards, yeah? The other half, though - that didn't want to be no comfortable middle-class psychoanalyst, living in the suburbs with a wife and kids, and slowly hatching a cancer of the prostate, you know? The other half of me wanted to be a drop-out; a rebel; a badass tranny punk rocker, throwing himself around on stage with a bass guitarist, smashing shit up and wanking off over the crowd! Now, it don't take much thought to recognise that these two ambitions ain't exactly compatible, you dig?
No shit. So what happened?
Well, for a long time I was batting back and forwards between these two ideals like a motherfucker! I even got as far as going to uni to study psychology, with the intention of one day becoming a psychoanalyst. I dropped out though; and though there were lot of reasons behind that particular decision, the main reason was that I didn't just want to be an academic; I also wanted to be an artist.
So how'd you end up dealing with it?
Well, things became a lot easier once I realised that it was actually possible for me to be a rebel and a smartass at the same time. For that to happen, though, I needed a role model.
And did you find one?
Did I find one? No shit! It was William S. Burroughs who made me realise you can have your cock and eat it. See, Burroughs was a hardcore academic - he'd been to Harvard, had absorbed the whole of Western culture, could talk about any motherfucking subject under the sun; and he was totally straight in appearance, too...looked and dressed like a motherfucking bank clerk, you know? And yet he also happened to be the writer of Naked Lunch; was friends with punk rockers, artists and a shitload of other weirdos - and of course, he was also the biggest junky on Earth! Yeah, it was Burroughs who made me realise I could be both artist and academic combined.
So how things going for you now?
Shit's sweet. Been building up the beginnings of my career as an artist with all these different sites and shit I got going. Great way to get my stuff out there and get recognised, you know? Creating new stuff, putting it up, getting props, making contacts...who knows what it could lead to? And in every piece of shit I now turn out, I'm never afraid to take every goddamn opportunity to be as smart or as silly as I want to be...
That's cool, man; that's real cool.
Better believe it.
Yeah, yeah... (pause) Say, you don't happen to know where I can get hold of some junk, do you? It's just I phoned up my regular dealer, but the guy got smashed...
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