It’s a Dogs Life 62

Hello, my name is Tony, and I identify as; Sore. My pronouns are; Ouch! and Fthth!

(“Fthth!” is my best effort at the sharp inhale through your teeth sound, made when you see something sore happening to someone else. Other people seem to use it a lot ).

It’s been suggested that this may be a potentially offensive statement? I’m not really sure why. As usual the principle target of any (gentle) mockery, is of course myself, with my haphazard and painfully mishap strewn existance.

Since I am given to understand that the question of pronouns, is not about sexuality but about personal identity, and about not being dictated to by the established society stereotypes, I am unclear why I cannot create an “identity” that suits my own existance, and mould the words to the meanings I require.

Indeed to an extent I have already done this. I “am” Lucky Dog, and my simple presence in certain groups changes the interpration and memory of actual events (See – “the Cake incident”). Even the use of the term “Lucky” is understood to be ironic (“un”-lucky) or at least double edged (Still alive!).

It could be argued that “Lucky Dog” is a mere stage persona, and perhaps, if I was a frequently performing artist, or sit-com actor, that could be valid. But if it is a part that I play, then “all the worlds a stage, and all the men and women, merely players…” (Macbeth; I’m going with Act 3 – yes, I could google, but that’s cheating).

It might still be said that “Lucky Dog” is not my “real identity” – leaving aside what either of those words could mean (and the pages of philosophy), I state that if it is an imaginary role I once created for myself, it (he? I?) is still very real.

Many painful real-life mishaps have taken place, perhaps, more than my fair share (but maybe I just paint them larger). I am certainly exceptionally fortunate not have sustained some lasting injury or disfigurement, but the manner in which I cope with this is entirely coloured by the “part” I have chosen to wear. It would certainly not be hard to imagine a different character development, where bemoaning my “bad luck” became a path to real depression, or some agraphobic isolation.

If I am a clown, then I am not one with a sad face, (or at least just one token tear), and any make up is all inside my head, so I wear it all the time.

Where am I going with this? Really I don’t know. A young friend recently chose to change their pronouns, and I know that some people find that hard to cope with, but I think we all wear different clothes and characters, and although sometimes we chose to take them off, or only wear them on certain days, that does not make them less real. And sometimes, we find that the part we thought we were playing, is actually ourselves, at which point, who is acting?

Next week on IaDL – something less contraversial?