Believe it or not, I am sometimes asked my opinion on serious topics of the day. Really I am. People the world over flood my inbox with the most surprising questions. Some, for example, want to know if I’m ready to become a multi-millionaire through some sort of fancy bank transfer. Others ask me how much I’m willing to spend for a genuine gold-plated Rolex. Still others want to know if my manly vigor is flagging or if my wife is “getting all that she deserves” from me. These are excellent questions which I hope to answer someday. But not today. There are more pressing things to consider.
‘What makes someone an intellectual, and can I be one?’
By asking the question you’ve probably disqualified yourself. An intellectual is first of all someone who already knows himself to be an intellectual, or secretly suspects it. He never asks confirmation from others because it’s his own imprimatur that counts. Besides, it’s not fashionable to be an intellectual anymore. Being an intellectual is something like being a “goddamned idiot” or a “two-bit whore” – that is, one is called an intellectual by others but does not set up shop as an intellectual on one’s own.
‘That’s not quite what I meant…’
I hope you’re not confusing an intellectual with an academic. Several of my friends and family members are academics. Somewhat fewer are intellectuals, if you ask me. At least we’re on too friendly terms for me to call them that to their faces. The Academy in its wisdom does not concern itself with producing intellects. Pillar of the economy that it is, it’s main duty is to prop up the acronym industry – which, as we all know, is too big to fail.
‘All right then. What makes someone an artist, and can I be one?’
But darling, you already are. The Spirit of Universal Affirmation, whom we adore, insists upon it that we each possess “the soul of an artist.” The trick is to match it with the body of one. That’s what cosmetic surgery is for.
‘What makes someone a philosopher, and can I be one?’
Philosophia (if you’ll indulge me in a little etymology) is borrowed from the wily Greeks and means the love of appearing wise. With the exception of numerous celebrities and politicians who make their living by a public show of folly, every Jack and Jill from here to Hudson Bay wants to be thought wise (but not an intellectual!). So, you’re in luck; it’s nothing difficult. If you want to seem wise, then you are a philosopher.
‘Last question. What makes someone a poet, and can I be one?’
To be honest, I was winging it with those other questions. But this one I think I’ve got a better grip on. Poetification is the process of compression and shrinkage by which an admirer of Edgar Allen Poe is turned little by little into a scale model of the great man himself: a Poe-et. That’s one definition. Here’s another: a poet is a lesbian, or sometimes a suicide. If you find yourself a lesbian or dead by your own hand, rejoice: you are a poet. Be careful, however, not to confuse a poet with a poetaster, the latter being no poet in his own right but a mere cannibal of poets.