2004-11-22 - 8:08 p.m.

Who do you share your birthday with?

And more importantly, why do you care?

Everyone knows their celebrity birthday-mates. No-one can remember the first time they looked them up. We just know. And we all get that fizzle of pride when we discover we share our birthday with someone famous and cool.

Er, why?

What the hell have you got to look so smug about, Mrs. I Was Born On The Same Date as Audrey Hepburn? What have you actually done? There are only 365 days in the year. There are thousands of singers, actors, politicians and artists alive or dead. Face it, you�re guaranteed to share your birthday with a handful of hams, teeny-poppers and c-list dictators. Where do you get off with the reflected glory?

And it�s strange how there�s a certain cachet in evil. See how I arranged the title of my previous entry. The juxtaposition of Charles Manson and Grace Kelly. One a monstrous, long-haired psychopath, the other Charles Manson. Ha ha. Similarly in the title above, David Schwimmer and Rodin. One a genius artist, a legendary figure in his milieu, the other�David Schwimmer. We�d be just as tickled to share our birthday with Eva Braun as Eva Cassidy. And if you�ve ever heard Eva Braun�s version of Somewhere over the Rainbow* you�ll know there�s not much to choose between them on that score either.

What�s both good and bad about this is that the list isn�t static. New names may be added to your personal list as the reeling drunk of fame takes another swig from the paper-bagged bottle of incessant and unquestioning public demand and vomits forth more grinning morons onto the pavement of global media. And then shouts �Yer me best mate in the wooorld! Fuck offff!� And then tries to wank over his own shoe. Where was I? Oh yeah, good and bad. Good that your celeb list evolves, bad that people who are exactly x years younger than you are famous and you are not. As if the cards and the gifts and the whole annual grinding wheel of existence were not enough, fresh-faced stars encroaching on your valuable birthday space represent just another momento mori chivvying you towards your underachieving non-celebrity grave.

God. Maybe I should start drinking.

It�s a strange partisanship, this birthday sharing. But in truth, no stranger than nationality or religion. What do you have in common with a fellow countryman or creed-follower you�ve never met, that you don�t have in common with some dipstick who happens to have plopped into existence on the same day as you? Why don�t we go to war on birthday grounds? Eh? How about it, Dubya? Hmm? Who�s on your side, Mr. 11th of July? I�ll tell you. Geoffrey Rush and The Dalai Lama. Ha. Osama�s got Arnold Schwarzenegger and Emily Bronte. Bush, you are so fucked!

*Available on the album �Mrs. Hitler live at the Folk Bunker�, on Reich�n�Roll records.

Profilage - Previosity - Nextitude