On Being Improperly Weird.

I read an article tonight about David Lynch, director of such classics as Eraserhead, Blue Velvet and Twin Peaks, all favourites of mine.

It seems that David is a bit weird. I’m a bit weird, too, or so several people have told me. Ah, but there’s the rub, you see. David is consistently weird, whereas I’m usually only weird when I’m in the company of normal folks. It’s the normal folks who tell me I’m weird. When I’m with weird people, I generally play the straight guy. ‘Aren’t you boringly ordinary?’ they say. ‘Get a life, man. Straighten up.’ Oh well…

This dichotomy probably has something to do with seeking balance, or maybe just wanting to make sure that I never belong anywhere. Sometimes I envy properly weird people, and sometimes I don’t.

So what is ‘weird’ anyway? I suppose it might be defined as ‘displaying attitudes, demeanour, opinions or behaviour which fall outside those parameters defined by common consensus.’ (Actually, they’re defined by the hum of Mother Culture and conditioned into the majority view, but I suppose it amounts to the same thing.)

So what does this tell me? Well, since the normal people are – by definition – in the majority, I reckon I’m mostly weird. That’s good; I’ll live with that.