Earnest: The EaEdE Interview

EaEdE: Earnest, isn't this another potentially shining example of acting creepy, interviewing yourself?

EARNEST: That don't deserve an answer, hoss.

EaEdE: Fine. But really, "hoss"? What's with all of this southern and Texas lingo that has crept into your vocabulary and the twang that comes out when you sing? What are you trying to prove? You're not Texan, you're not southern, and you're not even a redneck. You grew up in the Philadelphia suburbs. You're a vegan for chrissake...

EARNEST: My maternal grandparents were from Alabama.

EaEdE: That's your only explanation?

EARNEST: Well, and it just feels right. I don't care much for the Northeast accents.

EaEdE: So how did it go today?

EARNEST: Great!

EaEdE: And the nice California girl you met-- do you think she thought you were creepy?

EARNEST: No, I think she liked me just fine.

EaEdE: What did you think of her?

EARNEST: I don't think I'm ready to answer that.

EaEdE: What did you have your panties in such a wad over this morning anyway when you wrote that blog? You caught yourself sniveling again, didn't you?

EARNEST: Indeed. I'd like to point out that I am listening to my favorite DJ in the world right now, over the airwaves, on KUT, Mr. Larry Monroe. He is singlehandedly responsible for a massive portion of the kind of music I love most these days, largely from these cassette recordings I made of his late night blues and Americana programs I made while voluntarily incarcerated at the Pharmaco pharmaceutical testing facility for 24 days in late 1997.

EaEdE: Okay. But will you answer the question?

EARNEST: Sure. I woke up to an email this morning from a certain close family member that was disappointingly distant and curt, when my communications are always expressive and expansive and heartfelt. Then I realized that the bellydancer I wrote to last week didn't read the message I wrote to her. She just discarded it and probably got the serious creeps just from seeing the photo of who sent it. Myspace tells you these things.

EaEdE: Don't you think that finding her online and writing her that message on Myspace was, like, the definition of creepy?

EARNEST: No. She gave me a certain look after the show that made me feel like maybe she'd be interested in talking to me.

EaEdE: So why didn't you just talk to her?

EARNEST: There was a very big man talking to her very intently. After that she looked kind of like she wanted to be left alone. And I was drinking a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon, which I wasn't proud of. They're two bucks at Ruta Maya.

EaEdE: Aren't you really just an introverted creepy weirdo anyhow? Didn't you hack into your ex-girlfriend's email and read it when you were working on that yacht in St. Thomas?

EARNEST: No. And Yes. And I apologized for it and we're still friends. Why does this have to be an interrogation? Why can't you be sensitive and endearing like Teri Gross or Diane Rehm? Jerk. Why don't you change the name of this thing anyway? I'm not going back to Ecuador anytime soon, and there's not much to write about poor Eeyore these days.

EaEdE: Fair enough. Why don't you even talk to your best friends about your personal life?

EARNEST: It just seems too personal sometimes.

EaEdE: But you write about it here for the all the googling world to look at.

EARNEST: Right. Well, that's not my real picture with the dead possum, and Earnest isn't my real name.

EaEdE: But this blog is linked from your real Facebook page.

EARNEST: Yeah I've thought about changing that.

EaEdE: Do you think doing this type of interview is going to lead people to suspect you suffer from some mental illness?

EARNEST: I imagine that's commonly assumed enough. But everyone talks to themselves in one way or another. And the DSM manual is thick enough to label us all with something. I'm addicted to hot sauce and fresco style bean burritos from Taco Bell, for example. But I don't have the other addiction issues I once did. It's hard to believe, but years of extremely healthy eating and supplements can do wonders. There are some very scientific books about this but I doubt Dr. Oz will be touting them on Oprah any time soon. Gary Null is my biggest hero in this department, but there are huge efforts to discredit him because of what a liability he is to the drug companies. I do have mental illness in my family though. When my brother committed suicide, he was on any number of anti-psychotics, which are given out with unbelievable fickleness these days. If I sound like I'm exaggerating, do your own research. It's fucking crazy. Seeing what the drugs did to people when I worked in psychosocial rehabilitation, and watching my brother slide off into oblivion, well it showed me things I couldn't possibly describe in words.

EaEdE: So if you're not crazy, why do you have so many issues with things that other people don't?

EARNEST: You mean like the hunting and killing of dolphins and whales?

EaEdE: Yes. You really got upset about that the other night.

EARNEST: I did. That is a little embarrassing in a post-caring world. Caring is so not cool.

EaEdE: Speaking of caring, you claim to care about sound more than most people too. Can you explain this?

EARNEST: Sure. But I don't feel like it right now. It's a subject that's too important to me to give short shrift to right now. I'm hungry.

EaEdE: But you did get a reply to the Craigslist ad offering to mix bands for free, right?

EARNEST: Yes. Right away. And they offered to pay me.

EaEdE: And someone you really like who you thought was ignoring you emailed you this morning right at the end of your sniveling rant you wrote, right?

EARNEST: Right.

EaEdE: And that's why you're not sniveling right now?

EARNEST: You're a fucking genius.

EaEdE: Takes one to know one. I'd like to thank you very much for speaking with us.

EARNEST: I'm not speaking, I'm typing. To myself. Like a crazy person. But close enough...