It’s mid-morning when the ambulance drops me off from my “sleepwalking” misadventure. The neighbors see the drop off. The roommates see the drop off. Everybody is uneasy. Glasnevin is a tight-knit neighborhood of working class Irish people. This is not a place where Americans abroad would typically stay. Living here, I’m already a novelty. Now, I’m a cause for concern.
Things are certainly strained with the roommates. Before the incident, they think I’m an asshole. After the incident, they think I’m crazy. They’re not wrong. They think I’m an asshole because, already in the throws of mania, with my ego inflated beyond all recognition, with my self-obsession in hyperdrive, I certainly don’t have the decency to clean up after myself anymore. I certainly don’t have the common courtesy to not play loud music late into the night. I certainly don’t have the self-control to not yell for no apparent reason. (Yelling scares people. Over the years, I’ve scared a lot of people with my yelling while manic. I regret it.) The roommates don’t know I have Bipolar Disorder. They think I’m somebody who has been pleasant and friendly for the past few months, but is now an asshole. When the ambulance drops me off wrapped only in a blanket, naked underneath, the roommates must think, “Hey, this asshole is crazy too!” Again, they’re not wrong.
This sounds ridiculous, but the tension reaches its apex when I “borrow” the Red Hot Chili Peppers CD from one of my roommates for a second time without asking. I lift it out of her room. She’s furious and rightly so. I’ve gone into her space, without permission, yet again. A violation. I need the CD, though. What she and the other roommates don’t understand is that, in my manic mind, there is a track on the album written specifically for me. It’s a message of solidarity, inspiration, admiration and revelation just for me. The song is called ‘Can’t Stop.’ To this day, I can’t listen to it or watch the video for it without cringing a little bit lol. But in my defense, have YOU ever listened to it or watched the video for it?! Everything about ‘Can’t Stop’ lends itself to insanity and delusions of grandeur!
Let’s get into the video. It opens on an extended twisting and turning POV shot that rapidly travels through a yellow tube. It’s immediately jarring and reminiscent of scurrying down a rabbit hole. At the end of this frenetic journey, one is confronted by the lead singer, Anthony Kiedis, with his mouth agape, as though he’s in shock and awe. My manic mind spins. I believe that this burrowing down into the yellow tube is symbolic of an unearthing of hidden truths; a sort of getting to the bottom of it all. Next, we see the four members of the band running with light fixtures attached to their backs. They are determined. They run with purpose. Anthony checks his watch. Flea wipes sweat off of his brow. John Frusciante also wipes sweat off of his brow. Chad Smith breathes heavy. This quick scene completely reinforces my grandiose belief that I’m on a mission too. It resonates. Also, I’ve now acquired a newfound sense of both comfort and exhilaration knowing that the freakin’ Red Hot Chili Peppers are, in fact, my ally in saving the world! Once again, my mania manifests as misguided, frustrated idealism. Oh by the way, we’re only 0:33 seconds into the video at this point lol.
It only gets weirder. The remaining 4:00 minutes consist of the band interacting with everyday objects in bizarre and silly ways. It’s all inspired by the ‘One Minute Sculptures’ of Austrian visual artist, Erwin Wurm. Anthony wears a silver tent as though it’s a poncho with a hood. Flea has pencils in his ears and markers in his nostrils. John sings melody from within a garbage bin. Chad rests a pink shirt that is on a hanger off of his lip. I interpret all of these actions as scramblings of the ubiquitous surveillance panopticon; as absurdist revolutionary gestures that glitch the proverbial matrix and allow for an escape from the grid. Weird stuff, man.
(Note: As I rewatch the video after many years, I notice that here and there some of the band members wear a giant purple hippopotamus mask. Somehow I don’t clock this back in 2003. The giant purple hippopotamus mask doesn’t play into my delusion whatsoever. Thank goodness I’m not THAT crazy lol.)
Let’s get into the lyrics. First of all, they are written in such a style that Anthony is singing/talking directly to the listener. That right there is trigger number one. My ego is currently expanded beyond the edges of the universe; of course I’m going to believe that a song, written in the second person, is all about me. Now, I don’t have an explanation for how every single lyric in ‘Can’t Stop’ is targeted at me, just some of them. In fact, there are lyrics in the song that don’t make any sense to me. There are lyrics that I mishear. The mishearings, though, actually strongly reinforce the delusion because the specifics of how I mishear the lyrics feed into my megalomaniacal narrative.
The first words that jump out are Choose not a life of imitation/Distant cousin to the reservation. I mishear the second line as Just move closer to the reservation. I interpret that when Anthony says Choose not a life of imitation he is telling me to not become an actor or pursue a life of make-believe in the entertainment industry; to not traffic in fiction; to not shrink away from being a truth-teller. Just move closer to the reservation makes me think that I am supposed to meetup with Native American people and partake in a profound whirlwind of spiritual ceremony and awakening.
The next words that jump out are In time, I want to be your best friend/East Side love is living on the West End. Okay, here, clearly, Anthony is telling me that he wants to BE MY BEST FRIEND! Uh, sweet! Suck it, Flea lol! Also, East Side love is living on the West End is Anthony hinting at where he lives so we can meet up at some point and hang.
Knocked out, but boy, you better come to/Don’t die, you know, the truth is some do. I mishear the second line to be Don’t die, you know the truth is so true. Anthony is telling me that, although I have been floored by the heaviness of the revelation that I’m the messiah, I have to pick myself up and get on with my profound mission. He’s imploring me to stay alive at all costs and have confidence that the truth is on my side.
Go write your message on the pavement/Burn so bright, I wonder what the wave meant. I’m meant to spread my message of the connectivity of life by writing it on the ground, as though planting the seeds of Heaven on Earth. I proceed to do this. I sit on the pavement and use a stick as a writing instrument to compose my love manifesto. I perceive that my words have great energy and are manifesting in real time. They burn so bright. In reality, I’m just randomly moving a stick around on the ground lol.
The world I love, the tears I drop/To be part of the wave, can’t stop/Ever wonder if it’s all for you? EVER WONDER IF IT’S ALL FOR YOU?! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?! WHAT A MIND MELT! I have, in fact, been wondering if it’s all for ME! I mean, come on, this fantastically reinforces my belief that the world revolves around me. This nourishes and fortifies my egomania like no other words possibly can. THANKS A LOT FOR THAT ONE smdh lol!
J. Butterfly is in the treetop/Birds that blow the meaning into bebop. Okay, this one is crazy. I mishear J. Butterfly as JFOD (pronounced ‘Jay-Fod’). I know it doesn’t seem like these two would sound similar, but they do as sung by Anthony. Here’s the thing: JFOD is my nickname, you guys. It’s my goddamn nickname. I believe that the lead singer of the Red Hot Chili Peppers just name dropped me in the song. I’m done. I’m toast. My insanity has been validated all the way to the moon and back again. HE SAID MY NAME! I’M CRYING! I’M CRYING! I’M CRYING! TEARS OF JOY! So crazy. Oh also, it turns out that J. Butterfly is a person. She is Julia Butterfly Hill, an environmental activist who, in the late 90s, lived in a 1000 year old, 200 foot tall California redwood tree for 738 days in order to keep a logging company from cutting it down. Ummm yeah, THAT’S the hero who Anthony actually name drops!!!
One more. Kick-start the golden generator/Sweet talk but don’t intimidate her/Can’t stop the gods from engineering/Feel no need for any interfering. Ohhh dear. This is clearly about Sophia. My soulmate. My twin flame. (Here’s an entry about her for context.) Sweet talk but don’t intimate her. Anthony is giving me dating advice! He’s telling me it’s important that I don’t freak out Sophia when I present her with the revelation that it is our destiny to get married, move to Donegal, work at the post office, and give birth to the SUPER messiah; a messiah who is even MORE POWERFUL THAN ME. It’s crucial that when I break the news, I’m chill about it lol. Can’t stop the gods from engineering/Feel no need for any interfering. Oh wow. Turns out I don’t even need to do anything after all. That would have been good to know up top. Thanks a lot, Red Hot Chili Peppers!
Love,
JFOD
(Note: Go to jfodnews.com to read past entries.)
Today was the first day I've laughed about bipolar1 since my son was diagnosed with it in July... nearly a year after his first (of several) manic/psychotic break last November during his senior year of high school. He's currently inpatient again--his fifth hospitalization so far--for mania after quitting his meds, for the second time. I mostly just cry and catastrophize about the future, but found your podcast today and felt an odd sense of relief. And I fucking laughed. I *just* had a visit with my son where he explained to me that the day before his admission he was listening to Spotify and EVERY SONG WAS ABOUT HIM. He earnestly believes this... So I got a massive kick out of hearing you discuss the same. Instead of scaring me like it did when I first heard my son say it, I understood it a bit more, and I appreciated the cringey hilarity of it in a way I didn't think was possible just yesterday.
This disorder is a nightmare and I'm still terrified about what it means for my son's and our lives, but hearing you talk so openly and with just enough humor has tempered my fears substantially, even if just for an afternoon. Thank you for putting your experiences out there.
"This life is more than just a read-through"