One of my new readers recently told me that my blog showed a side of me that he didn't know existed. At the time, I naturally assumed he meant my humorous or witty, or even my moody, side. Then I found out that what he actually meant was the side of me that had a brain!
Yikes!
As disconcerting as this was, it reminded me of a series of conversations I had over the last two weeks about external personae. On more than one occassion, I found myself making an argument in favor of the importance of appearances. The standard thing to say is that it's what's inside that counts; but I maintain that what's outside can often speak volumes about who you WANT to be or what you VALUE - which can sometimes be an even weightier matter than who you ARE, at a discreet moment in time. For example, I used to have a huge problem with my friend's former Ideal Girl because of what I called her "presentation." She was very nice and well-meaning, but a little naive, and that led her to act like a gianormous pedant all the time. The problem I had with her was not that she was a nerd, nor that she talked a lot, nor even a combination of the two; what bothered me was that somehow she had it in her head that it was OKAY to be a pedant, and that it represented something she valued - and that to me was intensely objectionable, and something a bit more eternal than a transitory personal trait.
On the reverse side of this same proposition, another friend was telling me that one reservation she had about getting into a particular romantic relationship (I forget the context and the details; it made more sense at the time), was that she was shy. But she didn't think that this would be a valid concern for her partner because he didn't see her as shy. My response was that what he saw, or what was "true" even, was not relevant; what mattered was that she thought she was shy, and that alone made it a significant part of who she was. This is a slight contradiction to what I was saying earlier about how external characteristics reflect an inner life, but I believe that the basic frame of my hypothesis remains consistent - that is, the opposition between Who you are vs. Who you think you are.
Of course, it's possible to go too far with this privileging of the self-gaze. Just go to any rockabilly concert and you'll immediately see that when taken to its absurdest extreme, self-fashioning becomes a big joke. The "wannabe" part of you, manifested in the deliberate and the external - far from speaking volumes about a nascent you - says nothing about you at all...except perhaps that you're pathetic...or maybe potentially or partially pathetic.
But for every rockabilly loser there is a Fat Elvis - example most dear to my heart! I've written about him before, but it wouldn't be unproductive to reiterate how AWESOME he is for molding his identity through sheer will and force of personality, even though nature was against him. He wasn't so sexy anymore on the outside, but it didn't matter because he was still sexy on the inside. Fat and sweaty, he totally rocked the glitter suits and fringed scarves and he gyrated his hips and crooned love songs until denial became reality. And the proof the force of his personality rests in the incredible success had had as a young man, and the earth-shattering revolution he started. Surely, Elvis was not the best-looking guy in the world circa 1955, and guitar players didn't even have the cache then that they have now. But Elvis changed all that, and singlehandedly redefined dripping panties. How? Denial first, then the rest follows.
Anyways. Going back to the first matter on hand, I wonder what it says about me that my exterior declares me "nicht so klug," as they say in German. Part of me thinks that I just want to avoid responsibility, by announcing my unreliability up front, but another part thinks that I might be a bona fide anti-intellectual (= hate nerds, afraid of being one). Yet another part of me is convinced that pain is the essence of humanity, and therefore that Spastic Rex is my most human side.
Das ist mir Wurst.
