I am ridiculously self-destructive. The nature of the scorpion. Why? That is a hundred other blog posts. See yesterday’s post on the Hail Query if you have any doubt. Which, if you know me, you shouldn’t.

I’m not a fan of Russell Brand, but I’m fascinated.

He’s bizarre looking. I’m not on his comedy frequency and I’ve never laughed at a single one of his jokes. He seems preoccupied with the world’s injustices, but his energy seems to be directed at shaming others instead of any meaningful attempt to help or solve problems.

And yet, Russell has seen Katy Perry naked and I have not. Round One goes to Russell Brand.

Fascinated: He’s trying something different. He’s breaking molds. He’s trying to evolve his celebrity experience into something greater than the sum of its parts. He’s walking the edge of fame and infamy. And, for better or worse, (worse) he’s going down the shitter on his own terms.

Back when he had his short-lived talk show on the FX network, Russell explained to the studio audience that he had two homosexual men backstage. He was going to have them come out and perform a live sex act on the set. He explained that he wasn’t going to broadcast the actual sex act, just the studio audience’s reaction to gay sex happening in front of them.

Cameras cut to several people in the audience cringing. Russell ran up with a microphone and confronted the cringers. “Whah? Yew have something against gays?”

“No,” said the guy in the audience. “I don’t care that gays have gay sex. I just don’t care to see it.”

“Oh,” says Russell. “Kind of like homelessness, then?”

That was his real diatribe for the show. Homelessness. Well played. It only worked because the audience believed that the Russell really was crazy enough to have two gay guys go at it and keep cameras trained on their reactions.

So, yeah. I think he’s got something going on between all the gimmickery and outrage-baiting goofiness.

But then he goes and does yet another douche move in front of a high-profile crowd this past week.   Drugs? Self-destruction? Combination of the two? If you can believe a word that comes out of his pie hole, he’s copped to being a cutter. Self-harm.

Russell Brand is not a target of my hero worship. But he is a moral tale. I’m trying to plow some new ground with my writing, trying to make something original. But there is the self-regulating part of me that keeps stepping outside of myself and asking if I’m being a douche yet. I’m not sure Russell has those brain gears.

My advice to beginning writers is “color within the lines until you publish your first book. Then and only then can you break the rules with your second novel.”

I thought I was finally coloring within the lines when I wrote Selfie, but once I uncorked the word “edgy” in a query letter, I knew that I had failed. “Edgy” means outside the lines. So do I make one more attempt to pick up my Crayons and start again? I keep saying that I won’t.

But gosh, I’ve got so many assholes I still need to prove wrong.