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Phoque Yeah! #2: Crazy Bitches

August 18, 2010

“Hi, my name is Chris, and I’m a crazy bitch.”

We’re not a rare breed. You can see us daily, on the street in broad daylight, with no need for stealth, binoculars or a special hat. The only difficulty in spotting our kind is that we’re not always easy to recognise. We come in many guises, all shapes, sizes, ages and creeds. Most of us won’t show our true nature in public, or at least, not without copious assistance from our old friend and partner-in-crime, Mr Alcohol.

Though common enough, and mostly harmless, we are a much-maligned and demonised subset of the human race. Our majority is female, but we’re not exclusive, we let the odd gay boy in too. What I want to know is, what’s so wrong with being a crazy bitch? There seems to be a worldwide conspiracy, largely male, to keep us hushed-up and vilified. Believe me when I say we’re not all going to boil your pet rabbit, turn your Dalmatian puppies into a coat or burn your house down, blinding you in the process. So why does everyone you meet these days have at least one horror story about some psycho ex-lover or other? Why must every girl (or boy) who’s a bit unhinged become the cautionary tale to set some on the guard and suppress the inner crazy of others? A little letting loose is good for the soul, so I say we take back the night and let our manic cries mingle and surge with pride.

Don’t get me wrong, there’s a line to be drawn. Think Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction, or that one off Hollyoaks who accidentally cut her girlfriend’s parachute strings in a jealous rage. Or, um, Glenn Close again, in 101 Dalmatians (yes, I like puppies, deal with it). But these bitches simply ruin it for the rest of us, who can indulge in a bit of cathartic neurosis without anybody having to die. And just for the record, having a crazy bitch for a best friend has immense value, at least for keeping oneself entertained. If you’re both crazy bitches, all the better – a good rant between two close friends is one of life’s finest pleasures…just be very careful not to piss one another off. Hell hath no fury like a crazy bitch out-crazied.

My point is, the crazy bitch figure can be awesome, a paragon of empowerment and hilarity. Let’s dip into the pop-culture barrel again for evidence. Take, for example, Glory from Buffy. Or Faith from Buffy. Or, erm, Drusilla, from…Buffy. (Clearly Joss Whedon is an advocate of the crazy bitch liberation movement.) So, I think it’s high time we stopped bottling up our doubts and insecurities. Jealousy, paranoia and irrational distrust are perfectly natural. The 21st century is too cynical an age to see the best in everyone, and if we have to question the universe endlessly, we might as well enjoy our little insanities. In fact, it’s probably the best way to stay sane. Now, as for you soap-opera, horror-movie level nutjobs, get out of our spotlight and pop a Valium or something. Thank you very much.

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One Comment leave one →
  1. garethtrew permalink
    September 16, 2010 7:32 am

    Bonjour! J’aime bien votre blog — vous ecrivez tellement bien! Et je suis d’accord avec cet article — vous avez la raison! 🙂

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