People whose desire is solely for self-realization never know where they are going. They can't know . . . to recognize that the soul of a man is unknowable, is the ultimate achievement of wisdom. The final mystery is oneself. When one has weighed the sun in the balance, and measured the steps of the moon, and mapped out the seven heavens star by star, there still remains oneself. Who can calculate the orbit of his own soul?

Oscar Wilde

Sunday, December 13, 2009

How Eccentric Are You? The Quiz



No, this was not an early prototype cover for the Sergeant Pepper album. Although I do understand how you could think this. 


What you are actually looking at is a picture of Lord Berners - the famous British composer, artist, author, homosexual, and raving eccentric - amid a colorful menagerie of weirdness. Berners was not known to pal around with prize horses and oversized flowers, but he was a recognized eccentric even in his own day. Undoubtedly, the graphic designer responsible for this collage felt that the man's essence could only be captured by pasting him into a twelve year old girl's surrealist fantasy; while this would not have been the route Miss Merricat chose, she cannot say that this picture is entirely unrepresentative of the man it features.



Berners was not the only famous eccentric Britain produced in the twentieth century.  The Mitford family, whom Berners knew, was as famous for its odd ways as it was for its bevy of beautiful, batty daughters. Not only did the sisters divide their loyalties between communism and fascism - just imagine Christmas conversation at this home! - but Nancy went on to author a series of well received novels. Her character, Lord Merlin, who enjoyed dipping pigeons into colored vats of paint and releasing them into the air to become "a cloud of confetti," is a thinly veiled version of Berners in his natural element. Like I said, the man was an A-1 weirdo.


Lest ye think that eccentric behavior and opinions are solely a pastime for our British brothers and sisters, remember Little and Big Edie Beale. Captured forever in the brilliant documentary Grey Gardens, one sees the two Beale women - cousins of Jackie Kennedy - navigating their way through a ramshackle house, traipsing outside in more clothes than Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen wear in a week, and making observations that could only be described as "unique." Although the Beales came to lack the financial independence of Lord Berners and the Mitfords, their approach to life and living was equally eccentric. None of these individuals were weird for the sake of being weird; they were simply deeply odd people who lacked the desire, or the energy, to hide their batshit notions and pastimes from the world around them.



Miss Merricat respects them for their genuine lack of conformity and, occasionally, wishes her own childhood had been a bit less suburban and a bit more medieval. Would it have killed my parents to raise my sister and I in a decaying villa in some god forsaken rural parish? Couldn't they have even tried to induce a family ghost to haunt our premises and our dreams? Did all of my aunts, uncles, and cousins have to be so unrelentingly normal? I think at least one of them could have fallen on their sword for the rest of the family and lived a life of complete aestheticism and reckless abandon. Rather than end up with the sort of childhood Dodie Smith relates in I Capture the Castle, I ended up with something much more normal. 



You, however, may be luckier than I. If you have ever thought you were eccentric, but lacked the diagnostic tool necessary for a formal diagnosis of "weird," this is your lucky day. To find out just how weird - or normal - you are, read on. 


How Eccentric Are You? 
Quiz Edition


(1) The place where you live is accessible via:
      (A) Asking for directions at the Tastee Freeze off route 10.
      (B) Calling Albert Maysles and asking for your home's GPS coordinates.
      (C) Bus lines 14, 24, 27, and 67.


(2) Your house can be identified by:
      (A) The sign that reads "Little Paddocks," which hangs above the front door.
      (B) Its ramshackle, ivy-covered turrets, and the all encompassing smell of decay.
      (C) Its numerical address, which can clearly be seen on Google Earth.


(3) In your free time you:
      (A) Take long walks in your moor-free neighborhood, the moors having been pushed out when the 35th Starbucks opened on this block.
      (B) Traipse along the moors, in nothing but a pair of Wellies, communing with nature.
      (C) Thank god that you are geographically separated from anything moor-like. 


(4) Would you say that you are artistically gifted and/or a polymath?
      (A) I can complete a simple sudoku puzzle while simultanesouly watching television and snacking on Kettle Chips.
      (B) I speak twelve languages, have composed five symphonies, and am up for the Nobel prize in chemistry this year. Plus, I'm only 10 and a half.
      (C) Math and I do not get along.


(5) On a walk near your home, you are likely to encounter:
      (A) Three stray cats and the neighbor that called the cops on your ten person Halloween party several years back.
      (B) Rodents, raccoons, opossums, the Hound of the Baskervilles, and, on alternate Fridays, the ghost of Peter Maysles.
      (C) So many a**holes you cannot even BEGIN to list them all.


(6) Your family reunion consists of:
      (A) Your immediate family and your grannie, whose dementia forces her to swear like a sailor. 
      (B) Your parents (Favre and Muv), your siblings (Unity, Topaz, Tyrwhitt, Polly, and Pelham), your cousins (Little Hettie and Big Hettie), and your pets (Abelard and Heloise).
      (C) Dinner at a chain restaurant with your mom and stepfather. The awesome blossom  is totally on them.


So, how much of an eccentric are you? Add up the number of A's, B's, and C's you received and then check out the table below. 


Mostly A's = Almost Eccentric
Mostly B's = Batty as a Beale
Mostly C's = Clearly a Cleaver


If you somehow managed to acquire an even number of two of the letters - or, even more shocking - an even number of all THREE letters, then you are even weirder than this test could have imagined. Well, that or you cheated. Congratulations, on being a (cheating?) super-weirdo!



Almost Eccentric
Try as you might, you are just not that odd. Although you do have some unusual hobbies, habits, and predilections, you are fairly normal by comparison. Your home is in a semi-populated region, is not overrun by wild animals and endangered muskrats, and your family is so boringly normal that they are almost gauche. Were any of them arrested at all last year? Even for taking part in an ill advised political or social protest? No? See - boring. You do try to compensate for your stultifying normality by acquiring and expressing "quirky" mannerisms, like wearing pajamas outside or trying to repopularize the deerstalker cap. Sadly, no one is fooled. We all just think you have bad fashion sense (on top of being such a normie.) My advice would be to either accept your normality, quickly, or work on acquiring a few of the following: a family ghost; a run down castle in the Scottish Highlands; siblings who join fringe social movements and/or cults (note that you need a minimum of two siblings in different groups for this to be an option); or simultaneous world-wide acclaim for your newest contribution to string theory and for your smash hit opera. I am not saying that tackling any of these will be easy, but they really are your only shot at moving from wishfully weird to truly eccentric. Best of luck, dearie.



Batty as a Beale
My, you are an odd duck. You are not, by any chance, the reincarnation of Little (or Big) Edie Beale, are you? I have to ask. Not only do you live in relative seclusion, in an area that makes no man's land look like Times Square, but your house is literally a breeze away from collapsing on you and the family of meerkats who live in the cellar. Which would be a shame, because your house is overflowing with your artistic and intellectual output: your oil paintings; your letters to the President and his cabinet; your memoir revealing what nasty thing you saw in the woodshed all those years ago; and your formula for a natural deodorant that actually works. In fact, you are so weird - and live so far off the grid - that it amazes me you were able to find and complete an internet based personality quiz. (AT&T's coverage must be a lot better than it used to be.) Clearly, you are odd enough to need no advice from someone like Miss Merricat. However, it is the season of giving, so I will pass some along to you anyway. If a documentary crew ever shows up at your abode, and asks to film you, please condition your participation on them never allowing a feature film version - with professional actors - to be made of your life. The last thing you need is to be portrayed by Drew (normal-as-all-hell) Barrymore. Don't say I didn't warn you.



Clearly a Cleaver
My, you are normal. Too normal, even. Are you using your overwhelming normality as a cover to get away with nefarious deeds? Secret trysts? Serial killing spree? Addiction to snorting Pixy Stix? I certainly fear so. No one could possibly be as boringly normal as you are on a day to day basis without committing a few serious felonies here and there. Might I make a suggestion? Rather than live as Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, why not split the difference and live as a semi-weird person on a day to day basis? Think of all the money you could save on attorneys, chemistry equipment, trash bags, and candy. (The Willy Wonka company does not need ten percent of your annual household income.) You may not end up looking like a true eccentric but, then again, you would not want to. The police always suspect those people first and you have more than a few skeletons to hide. (Not literally, I hope. Otherwise, Miss Merricat will be forced to report you to the proper authorities. Sorry.)


Crushed to see that this quiz has come to an end? Me too. Now we both have to get back to being productive: feeding the raccoons in the cellar, distressing the 17th century wing of the house, scheduling a date for Albert Maysles to come by. Nothing but work work work all the time. And you know what raccoons are like . . . all rabies and attitude. Never a word of thanks. If it were not for the hundreds of adoring fans I have worldwide, it just would not be worthwhile.


Luckily for you, I'll be back with another totally meaningless quiz sometime in the near future. Do try to contain your excitement; you would not want to keel over before the new quiz arrives. That would be tragic.


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