It had been an enjoyable lesson. We delved through the vaguaries of clever song writing techniques, from the brazen egoism of Bono through to the honed rhythmic athleticism of Eminem. Towards the end of class we began discussing a protaganist's charming cynicism. The song's genius came from the way he acerbically dissected popular culture, yet, all the while making it clear he knew he was as sick as everyone else. Discussing anti-heroes, the lecturer made a remark that jarred me out of my daydream;
"...everyone thinks that they're Holden Caulfield, everyone imagines that they're the anti-hero, the tacit observer of the madness around them..."
It's true. I'll be damned if I can't believe that I am the only sane one in the madhouse, laughing on the inside while the other inmates let it all out. I mean; what joy can be had if one doesn't believe that they exist at the centre of the universe? There is a sweet sadness to be had from solipsism, a kind of gentle justification for one's frailties. The thing is, without being Holden Caulfield, all I am is an extra, a side-character, superfluous and superficial. If I can't be Superman then I want to be Clark Kent, life's not worth living if I am relegated to playing Jimmy Olsen.
