So, where was I again? Let's see...there was the part about the crazy homosexual scientists who create the breakthrough with the first "shit baby"...no, I haven't made that movie yet, stop asking... and there was the part about smashing the cabbage over the guy's head...Oh, wait, I'm good, I remember where we're at. Yep, we were talking about that whole bit of selling out for some sweet lovin'...hmmm...did I ever get to that part about why people do things like that? I didn't? Really?!? Oh, man...I can't believe that I let something that good slip by...My bad, folks. I'll make up for it.

So, we had our little polemic about how people sell their souls and dreams for access to another person's body (specifically their genitalia), and then we agreed on how I was absolutely right about the matter (okay, it was actually me pontificating and you were a passive reader who had no role - now shut up)...but why would someone do something like that? Is it merely carnal...or is it something else? Something that haunts the halls of that sexual interaction, lingering in the corners and watching with that "priest masturbating in a confessional booth" look on his face? Hmmm...what a good question... I wish that we had the answer to that...whoa, wait a second...well, look at that. There's the answer! Folks, like John Edwards, don't ask me how the magic gets done...just be glad that I'm here to share myself with you...

Now, the field of psychology has been moribund since the start of it all (mainly due to it being foolishly enamored with shit like determinism), and one of its greatest failings is when it talks about the critical subject of "identity". Freud would say that you can find your identity tucked in the fold of your mother's labia or lodged somewhere between your father's balls, while Jung would say that a dream about playing with your parent's crotch means that you want to drive an ice cream truck for a living...Whatever; I never trusted cokeheads or the Swiss anyway. Now, the truth is that as an individual who wishes to control his/her own little section of the universe, it's healthy for you to want and have an identity, to have a concrete, unique implementation of the word "I". That's fine and dandy...but there is a catch. Like everything else man-made in the universe, an identity has to come from somewhere; it has to be made through a set of decisions. Am I going to only listen to my favorite music... or am I going to learn how to start playing it? Do I like the way I look...and, if not, do I care enough to put on some pants and do something about it? Is the ice cream truck that I plan to drive serving those little frogs or those orange-sherbert push-ups? Damn, those things were tasty...

Anyway, all of those questions lead to decisions, a set of decisions that someone made. Who made them? That's right, you made them. Every decision that you make, every part of your identity should focus on you...especially when it comes to the idea of relationships. Unfortunately, though, some people do make decisions about relationships and don't even refer to themselves in first person... like Jimmy from that one episode of "Seinfeld"...

For example, take your typical, naive, young Southern girl who opens up the kitchen without any mitts and, lo' and behold, we get a hot one in the oven; in my native tongue, we call that "fucked and stuffed". So, being young and with child, she does her duty : she has the kid, and she prays to that guy upstairs...or is it That guy upstairs...or is it that guy Upstairs...In any case, let's say that you have a brief rendezvous with this woman ten years later and have a brief talk with her :

• You : So, how are things?
• Her : Well, the good lord is still listening to prayers...and my son is such a joy...
• You : Well, that's good...and you?
• Her : Still a hard-working mother and devout Christian.
• You : Hmmm...I see...so, what have you been doing lately?
• Her : Oh, working at the soup kitchen was so busy the other day, and, right after, my son had to be taken to baseball practice...
• You : No, I mean...what have you been doing in your spare time?
• Her : Well...hmmm...
• You : Let me ask something else...have you changed much over the past decade? How would you describe yourself now, after having been "dirty" and "sinful"?
• Her : I'm still a devout Christian...
• You : Okay, throw that out...what else?
• Her : Ummm...a loving mo...
• You : Throw that out, too. Now, who are you?
• (Long Pause)
• Her : The loving grandmother of my future grandchildren...
• You : Okay, let's get this straight...no ancestors, no successors, no deities, no spouses, no church groups/cults, no performance art, no online chatrooms, no D&D or any other role-playing games. Now, who are you?
• Her : Uhhh...I don't know. What am I?
• You : An idiot.
• Her : Okay, I can be that. Thanks!

Now, the point of that wasn't to disparage single mothers...though I don't doubt that there will be a single mother (also lacking a soul) who will focus on the context of the example, and she'll evade the presented abstraction. No, the point was to show how easy it is to gain an identity and not think about yourself. It's so daunting and intimidating to be somebody on your own...and it's so easy to be somebody in relation to someone else. And you wanna know why it's so easy? Because it's not really you! The place for that unique implementation (which should be an integrated knowledge base about yourself) is no longer vacant; instead, it's been filled with an aggregate of "duties" and other "accepted" attributes. You have gained an identity without actually doing any work, you lucky devil... in other words, you are now the proud recipient of "ego welfare". And what do we call people who never try to get a job and would prefer to always stand in line in order to get a paycheck? That's right : a fucking bum. So, take this hunk of government cheese and Kool-Aid and choke on it...I'll be over on the veranda, eating some Taleggio and enjoying a nice bottle of Merlot...you ass...

Unfortunately, many young girls end up being single mothers because much like starving actresses, they'll do anything to get a role; the only difference is the actress only intends to hang onto that identity until her payday arrives; the other is gonna hold onto it for dear life, because her very existence depends on it. Yes, I've finally gotten back to that "r" subject again : romantic relationships. But this one problem doesn't extend to just girls... oh, no, this problem is shared between girls and guys. Sure, many guys usually enter into a relationship for one reason (in layman's terms, to "get some stink on the hang low")...but, slowly and surely, the whole thing becomes a little more complicated, and they soon find themselves having an unexpected "identity"...and, then, they too are ensnared in their own self-constructed folly. In the end, both of these men and women find identities in the state of being completely dependent on one another for support, for decisions, for validation...for everything.

Of course, if that scenario was a disease and I were the CDC, I'd only give it a rating of Level 3; those usually involve empty-headed people who give you the "deer-in-the-headlights" look from behind a cash register as you attempt to customize your order...I said no pickles! What's to not fucking understand about that! No, the worst of them are the ones who acknowledge what they do, who at some point invested the time to forge his/her own self, who wanted perhaps a truly passionate affair with someone who contrasted (and yet, did not contradict) them. But, then, as days went by, as they watched the multitudes of "mutual slavery" couplings, they began to doubt themselves and the love of themselves that they held so dear...they became invidious, hating the smiling fools but yet feeling the nagging desire to become one of them...And, after that envy has consumed them to the breaking point, it dawns on them : all I need to do is trade. Yes, all it takes is a simple trade, where you exchange your identity for some attention, where you force yourself to laugh at things you don't find funny, where you find yourself giving the benefit of the doubt to statements where there is no doubt, where you become that which you used to mock...and then, those people finally get what they want. As a good trader, they have gotten something desirable by giving away what they didn't really want : themselves.