Anal expulsive: Am I or Won’t I?
I’m pretty sure I’m anal expulsive and I don’t know how to feel about it. I heard the term during a recent discussion with fellow writers. It’s likely that the definition was stated in the aforementioned confab, but because I’m also a visual artist, once I heard it, I became deeply involved in a doodle of “anal expulsive” and stopped listening. I vaguely remembered it the other day but misremembered the name and googled anal explosive. I do not recommend making this mistake. Then I thought maybe it was called anal repulsive but most of the information I found was about dogs who hate their butts. Somehow, I finally landed on the correct turn of phrase and found this:
Anal expulsiveness is the state of a person who exhibits cruelty, emotional outbursts, disorganization, self-confidence, artistic ability, generosity, rebelliousness and general carelessness. (Wikipedia)
Do you agree that this is a confounding melange of characteristics? And maybe not a terrible combination? Let’s take a closer look, using myself as an exemplar: I’d prefer to imagine that I am not a cruel person, so we’ll skip that first descriptor. But once I hit emotional outbursts, I start to feel a resonance. Although for me, they’re more aptly described as emotional inbursts. Major Depressive Disorder, amirite?!? Does that count? From then on, I feel increasingly seen. Disorganized would be a generous description of me. Like, if only I could find that scrap of paper that had my to-do list on it. Because on the other side is my bank account login info which I’ve been missing for weeks! Moving on. Self-confidence? Fuck yeah, I’m an artist for godsakes! For what it’s worth however, an artist’s self-confidence is usually balanced in equal measure with an intense self-loathing, which is confusing. But to believe that anyone would want to look at, or even buy the garbage that spews out of my head onto paper, that must be some bloated ego I have! Wait-is that the cruelty?? Anyway. After that, things really take a positive turn. Artistic ability? This is subjective for sure but seriously, you should see my doodle of anal expulsive! Generosity? Have you any idea how much sourdough starter I’ve given away recently? And on to rebelliousness. So I ask myself, are you a rebel, Stamps? I mean, probably not...but I do wash my denim regularly, so maybe? And finally, my carelessness is best embodied in the navy blue paint that is sprinkled across the wood floors of my apartment, my sofa, and on my left cheek for three days until someone asked me when I’d gotten a face tattoo.
So what now? To lean in to my anal expulsiveness may mean actually getting a face tattoo. This would enhance both my rebelliousness and cruelty. Because my mom would be devastated if I got a face tattoo. Talk about cruel! Maybe I could turn my emotional inbursts out, at least for dramatic effect. And if I combined that with disorganization, now we’re talking: showing up late to the airport then causing a huge scene when TSA nearly detains me for finding three box cutters and a staple gun in the outside pocket of my rollie-bag. I can do this! I have no problem with the idea of becoming more self-confident. I imagine this would mean walking around like I have just returned from Burning Man, ideally decked out in festival wear that’s both sparkly and wildly inappropriate. Easy. I can’t will myself to have more artistic ability. But it’s likely the self confidence of being a Burner would assuredly make my art better. And if carelessness means I can “forget” my pants, sign me up! So if when you next see me, you are startled by the sequins on my nipples or the stars tattooed on my forehead, or lack of pants, just know I’m practicing radical self-acceptance. I am anal expulsive and I think I’m okay with it?