Ne’er cast a clout ’til May is out, I recall first reading in The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole. It took years for me to find out what this actually meant, and even though it has nothing to do with the focus of this post, I think of it every time the calendar reaches the fifth month.

This May was the month I was contacted by a weirdo on the other side of the world, and also by numbers ten and eleven, which means I now have a football team of superheroes just in time or the World Cup. Those two were responding to the What’s in a Name project that the artist set up recently via facebook. I had kind of given up on it, having heard nothing off any potential participants for over a month, until I got two in two days towards the end of this month.

NUMBER TEN

His mum was both a teacher and a twin! He had never even heard of Blackpool, but is into astrology and believes people do have psychic powers, and is intrigued by fortune cookies, fascinated that their messages are always positive and never negative. Like 7 and 11 he has hayfever, like 5 one of his favourite films is Fight Club which of course has resonance with my own situation.

NUMBER ELEVEN

His father was a professor in music – perhaps that is where my palm-reading-suggested-child’s-talent comes from? He likes films that make him think, including Baron Munchausen, The Meaning of Life and The Holy Grail which link to my story though I admit to having never watched all the way through. Allergic to pollen like 7 and 10, he chose this alter ego because he looks into the past to try to figure out who he really is. Most intriguingly, he is a Pagan and as a result is into ouija boards and palmistry…

Meanwhile, back in the real world, my sister completed a charity walk (for her chosen cause endometriosis) at a little place called Houghton-in-Ribblesdale where the guy signing the walkers in asked if she was local as there were a large number of Greenbanks in the vicinity. None of them have so far entered into my friendship field that I know of but there is still time.

Perhaps the phonecalls I have been receiving for the past three weeks were meant for one of those Greenbanks. Or, for Good Luck Jonathan, the new President of Nigeria, who was sworn in during May.

The lady I spoke to the first time the phone rang late one evening, said she was looking for Greg. I couldn’t tell where she was from, and she seemed quite upset that Greg wasn’t here. So upset that she has since rung us twelve times each in the early hours, between midnight and 4am, often around 2ish when presumably she thinks Greg would still be awake? My favourite call so far was at 3.16 which if I had been more awake, in hindsight, I could have recited the famous bible quote instead of sluggishly asking “What?” before whoever it was, hung up.

I instantly recalled Paul Auster’s writing that I studied so closely last year: “It was a wrong number that started it…” Quinn, a lonely, disaffected writer, is awakened one night by a phone call asking for Paul Auster of the Auster Detective Agency. Although he brushes off the initial call, he begins to reflect on the detective novels he writes under a pseudonym. Inspired by the spirit of Max Power, the narrator of his books, Quinn claims to be Auster the next time the unknown caller asks for the detective.

The wrong number turns out to be Peter Stillman, a man who speaks with a strange cadence and style, possibly mixing truth and fiction. (From http://www.curledup.com/cityglgn.htm)

The narrative develops an intertextuality and causes all sorts of confusion, just as it does in Synecdoche, New York, a movie I had watched last year and forgotten all about then remembered (when it was on E4 in May) that it was yet another great example of mistaken identity and dual personality leading to questions about what is real and what is fake, both in text and visual representation.

For years now, I have been known as having several doubles and, towards the end of the month I was sent perhaps the best lookalike for a long time. Thanks Doug!

These doppelgangers, such as Peter Sellers, Gok Wan, Colin Murray, David Tennant, and many more, even Harry Potter and Mr Muscle, all relied on thick framed spectacles for impact. However, not for much longer, will they be relevant, as next month I will embark upon a life-changing operation which may be the catalyst for the alignment of the teacher me and my alter ego.

As the Spice Girls sang, two become one… Or four eyes become two again.

A similar situation also happened in the Schizoid episode of The Prisoner this month, involving multiple personalities and replicas. Indeed, in their complex conversations, Numbers Six and ‘Un’Two said the following at various times:

“I am who you intended to be…”

“Who is who? Someone who looks like me.”

“If we are one then we can defeat two…”

Be seeing you.

When presenting my findings last month I decided to overcome a somewhat fallow period in my participatory investigations with a side project: namely, to involve the audience to a presentation I was giving, in a small scale version of the existing residency, in which they would be asked the same set of questions, but this time with the aim of determining what the artist had in common – not with people sharing my name, but those who were in the same room as me, involved in the same course and mostly in a similar occupation.

Let’s start with A.

 

A, like the artist, saw themself to be like Kick-Ass, this time because of his/her blind confidence and little ability. Strangely, I have only seen one of Kick-Ass’s favourite films (The Vanishing, the others being Suspira, Audition and Irreversible) and even more strangely, we seemingly had nothing else in common.

B

Was also born in September (1976) and like me, also loves Amelie and Lars and the Real Girl. Whilst they, and lots of their family, are teachers, they found it impossible to choose a superhero for their alter ego. Like C, D, H, and I they supported Liverpool – like G they count and salute magpies. Like me, B has lucky and unlucky clothes, notices patterns and number sets, and has lots of twins in their family.

C

 

C was another Liverpool fan, whose choice of films was interesting, consisting as it did of two New York movies (Manhattan, Man on Wire) and Rear Window – presumably not the Christopher Reeve version – plus Ken Loach’s Raining Stones which again, the artist hasn’t seen. Those were the only connections we shared.

D

 

D chose two superheroes because “they are lovers and have a great house” and the film The Lovers – again, never seen – and has gums like an eighty year old, apparently. We seem to have little else in common (and yet another Liverpool fan)

E

 

E had another September birthday, two years after mine, whose wisdom teeth apparently grow inwards. Chose Superman (like me) because they “always wanted to fly” and is superstitious, especially when it comes to ghosts, which perhaps explains the choice of The Hours as a favourite film, which has the familiar story of a narrative connecting characters across different time periods. Oh, and this teacher’s mum is a twin.

F

 

F is allergic to antibiotics, just like the artist. Loves Empire Strikes Back, too. Would be Iron Man, a character with whom I have developed an affinity. Like E, believes in ghosts, though most intriguingly, is left-handed, which they maintain means they were a twin as an embryo…

G

G and SIX of their cousins are teachers, and they once found a fortune cookie in a second hand car they were test driving apparently – after buying the car, the message came true! And, like B, worships magpies, even though their favourite film is The Rebel, and even more weird given that they have an allergy to shellfish, quite surprising given the cat’s love of seafood.

H

Also a teacher, though could not offer an alter ego, like B, so will be known by a character from their favourite film, which the artist has unfortunately not seen. Still, allergic to lactose, and a Liverpool fan just like B, C, D and I.

I

 

I, another Liverpool fan who is averse to fairy liquid. This person’s favourite film is Marley & Me which again, I’ve not had the pleasure of watching, so it would seem their qualified teacher status is our only other connection.

J

 

J teaches at my first ever school, where their dad’s cousin also once worked. Very superstitious – in fact, there was a programme about Stevie Wonder on earlier this evening – he / she finds new habits and beliefs all the time, and is currently into magpies just like B and G. Also like G, is allergic to seafood, and loves The Truman Show, as you should know, all about a guy whose life is uncovered as an elaborate ruse, his narrative pre-determined by scriptwriters until he finds the way out.

K

 

K is a lover of classic movies – my lookalike Dustin Hoffman features, The Graduate and Midnight Cowboy (like L), A Clockwork Orange and BACK TO THE FUTURE (just like the artist) – this teacher has no allergies but sees themself like Hit Girl, the eventual companion of Kick-Ass, who was picked by A. An Everton fan like myself, too…

L

 

L, another Midnight Cowboy fan, as well as Indiana Jones (a childhood favourite of mine) who suffers from hay fever (like my fiancée and ex-flatmate) and follows the tradition of acknowledging magpies, just like J, B and G, as well as knocking the other elbow if they hit one first. I really like that they chose Ben 10 because of his ‘multi alien personality’ which I think I share.

M

 

M

The Matrix, featuring as it does the notion of an alternate reality determined by ‘others’ which is an intriguing concept to link to my own beliefs, is, along with Finding Nemo, M’s favourite. Allergic to sticking plasters, which I was for a short time growing up. They also claim to support the losing side ‘because everyone should have a chance’ which is the exact same reason I started supporting Everton all those years ago.

And, N

N, the only participant who might have family in Nice, and, like the artist and F is allergic to penicillin whilst also chose the real-life persona of F. Also very superstitious, supports Everton like K and myself, and shares films with B, F, K and me again.

 

That’s it for now.

Dead birds, blind dogs and doppelgangers, in short.

The month brought some good news, the fortune tellers were spot on once again, not just with predictions of pregnancies and warnings of the bottle and glass, but the two face-one. And, as if by magic, the month was largely spent researching the alter ego, the dual identity, the split personality, culminating in an amazing development in my investigations.

I have documented previously the findings of my research into what is in a name, and since sharing them with you there has been only one addition to the family.

NUMBER NINE

Has two teachers in her family, just like numbers 7 and 8, and like number 3 she has no interest in football, like the majority of  participants she has normal gums, despite her favourite film being Zulu (which I’ve never seen all the way through), no links to Nice or Blackpool, and has never found an unusual fortune cookie message. However, her choice of superhero representation was somewhat controversial – picked because he ‘has stood the test of time.’

Having presented my findings at a conference-style presentation, I launched an off shoot project with my fellow students, the findings of which I will outline in the near future…

All I will say for now is that throughout this journey I’ve been amazed at how many participants are superstitious about black and white birds. But, that so many people seem to share an obsession with saluting magpies might have meant nothing had one not started to visit the flat this month:

This fellow of course succeeding the ducks and rather less entertainingly, the two dead pigeons I discovered within a week of each other this month. Not just birds, mind, this month I also spotted a dog with no eyes on the beach. He would obviously never see his own lookalike…

Which is what the characters of a sitcom also attempted in April.

The day before the event at Uni I saw an episode of The Brittas Empire in which Gordon’s doppelganger came to town with the circus, and predictably hilarious consequences ensued.

It reminded me of the age-old theory which you will no doubt be familiar with:

In the vernacular, the word “doppelgänger” has come to refer (as in German) to any double or look-alike of a person. The word is also used to describe the sensation of having glimpsed at oneself in peripheral vision, in a position where there is no chance that it could have been a reflection. They are generally regarded as harbingers of bad luck. In some traditions, a doppelgänger seen by a person’s friends or relatives portends illness or danger, while seeing one’s own doppelgänger is an omen of death. In Norse mythology, a vardøger is a ghostly double who precedes a living person and is seen performing their actions in advance.

Think Back to the Future (Part II).

Anyway the night of Brittas, we went for some drinks in the ‘local’ and spotted fantastic lookalikes of Patty and Selma, Larry David and Steptoe. You had to be there. Upon coming home, we watched another of my own lookalikes, the comedian Mark Watson, performing miserably on Marco Pierre White’s Kitchen Burnout, this only a couple of weeks after I myself had been served an overcooked steak at the chef’s restaurants (I got a beautiful substitute – and recently learnt that in the Pokemon series, the move Substitute creates a doppelgänger of the Pokemon that uses the move.)

Whilst the following evening, a re-imagining of The Prisoner launched on our screens, this time about a guy who has spent too long studying people and how much information they easily give away before becoming his own numbered alter ego. And, in the week after our presentations, where I had begun to explain the links between my lines of enquiry and those involved in Frankenstein’s Monster or  your favourite Caledonian Antisyzygies* and mine, Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, Colin Murray, the rednosed version of me, was on Heston Blumenthal drinking and eating a feast inspired by those very same characters.

And it was about this time that I finally admitted there were two of me, too.

*Syzygy refers to a yoking together of opposites in which two elements remain distinct but antisyzygy would be a pairing in which distinctions are lost.