Why should you get to know BillyJeanJane?

I. She was born with a gift of laughter and a sense that the world was mad.

II. The average chimpanzee (hairless though they may be) finds comfort in the belief that the universe is doomed.

III. The third rule is simple: don't stare at BillyJeanJane or talk too much.

IV. The grey sky, the loss of faith, the embarrassment, the sense of being humiliated by one's very time and place, the inadequacies of love and human connection. BillyJeanJane greedily placed all this on a slice of linseed toast and wolfed it down.

V. What would happen to this thing we all call life, without negative emotions? What would happen to what we call art, to the theatre, to drama, to most of the novels? Where would BillyJeanJane’s flailing attempts at being published be?

VI. Half way through our interview, exactly half way (I swear she timed it), BillyJeanJane exclaimed 'There is nothing more marvellous or madder than real life.'

VII. BillyJeanJane nibbled her sandwich and clearly had something on her mind. 'It looks like a duck,' she suddenly announced. 'It walks like a duck. It quacks like a duck. It's a duck. Things often are just as they appear. Pretty girls are nicer than ugly girls. Children are amazing. You are transfigured by love. Proverbs are true. Nietzsche said God is dead. God said Nietzsche is dead. My existence is terrible. Sometimes I can't see how I'll get out of it alive. Reinventing sensibility? Yes, I'll buy that, though it wasn't a conscious programme - it just happened that way.'

VIII. I shake hands with the free man, founder of the united front against bullshit (though she’ll swear she doesn’t swear). 'I have just written a pamphlet on the importance of being self-centred,' she announces.

IX. When I arrive at the bar, BillyJeanJane is standing on the table proposing a toast to decay (obviously not (m)oral).

X. BillyJeanJane is animated by the feeling that to be out of step with a large body of opinion is in itself the most likely indicator of being right.

XI. BillyJeanJane longs to die in a world who reveres the colour of Majick. She longs to be held. She longs to hold onto the dream that she will one day die explaining how she had been the hero in her own life.

Does the average person not wonder why there are 11 reasons and not ten? “Ah,” exclaims BillyJeanJane, her face radiant with the knowledge of attention in her direction.
“But why pick a number so many others have destroyed. Eleven is the new ten. It is the number of eloquence, or of the individual so wrapped up in their own existence they cannot follow convention if it means losing out on valuable speaking time and…” her voice trails off as she slams the glass down forcefully on the counter and exclaims “Another gin, Barman! By Jupiter man, its nearly lunch and I’m still sober!”

In conclusion, follow the bricked road – regardless of its colour. I mean, urine is also yellow. Never trust a man with glass in his stomach. And furthermore, don’t believe everything you read or have read out to you.