Why oh why oh why have I become so neurotically possessive about this identity I’ve created for myself? A long time ago (maybe I was eleven or twelve... six or seven years, give or take) I began calling myself "Overlord of Earth". I liked the sound of the word "overlord". I only used this when marking my score for Jezzball (I got some pretty high scores). It might have stayed that way for all eternity if it hadn’t been for my Sophomore year speech class... and, strangely, for an unusual little man called Brandon Schmidt. I revered him in those days, and it annoyed him... nowadays, many consider him an ass, but I still have to admit... he had a lot of influence on my young life.

But I digress... I wanted to be like him, at least in terms of my speaking ability. So I created a different personality for myself while giving my speeches. I took a stronger stance, better posture, clearer voice, precise vocabulary... a whole different character for myself. After a few weeks, I brought back my "Overlord" moniker. "Good morning (or afternoon), ladies and gentlemen," I’d say, "my name is Jeff Martin, Overlord of Earth. Blah blah blah..." One day, someone DARED to contend with my authority as Overlord of Earth. I didn’t really respond, but the next time I spoke in front of the class, I identified myself as "Jeff Martin, Self Proclaimed Overlord of Earth." Huzzah, I had validation.

After another couple weeks, I was on my way to school when it hit me... "SPOOFE!" I exclaimed out of the blue. "Spoof?" my mother questioned (yes, I was fifteen... it’s difficult to have a drivers’ license at fifteen). "Self Proclaimed Overlord of Earth!" I said. "How does that fit?" mommy inquired. I thought for a minute, positive for some reason that the acronym did fit, but I wasn’t able to hammer out the details. After a moment or so of thinking, I said, "SPOOFE. S-P-O-O-F-E. Self Proclaimed Overlord OF Eearth." My mom just nodded, positive that her best son was a genuine nutcase. I didn’t care. All of a sudden, I had an identity that I had created, that I can sculpt and mold as my fevered mind could see fit... a character that I could hide behind.

The next time I stood up to address my speech class, I said, "Good morning, ladies and gentlemen... my name is Jeff Martin, Self Proclaimed Overlord of Earth..." I could see their eyes glaze over... this was a ritual I had gone through several times already and it was boring to them... I paused slightly before continuing... "or SPOOFE, for short."

All of a sudden, they all brightened. Some even laughed. I was victorious.

Since then, this little blurb I made to perk up the ears of a bored speech class has become my premier source of emotional armoring. For over a year, I hid behind this character. I’m pretty sure that this character, this "SPOOFE", has cost me at least two relationships. One ended because my true self occasionally shone through my facade, and the other was because I made a pretty horrid first impression on someone, and for most of the time that I knew her, I was this character instead of my real self. In the case of the latter, I don’t even think she knows any me other than "SPOOFE", even though she never calls me that. In the case of the former... she doesn’t allow herself to know me at all, whether it be the real me or the fake me.

There was a time when I thought my old identity (Jeff) was to blame for all these troubles, so I tried to shrug it off. I began insisting that everyone call me SPOOFE. Even teachers. I’d yell at friends if they said "Hi, Jeff!" (Kat, you’re lucky you weren’t talking to me at that point... I would have barked you out far too often). This lasted for a few weeks. Then, after that, I decided that it must be SPOOFE’s fault. All of a sudden, I tried to ignore that character that I made. I became Jeff again, through and through... a small, petty, manic-depressive little boy with no desire to be noticed. Well, that didn’t last long either... pretty soon, I reached a Nirvana of sorts... my different sides melded to create what I am today.

You know, when I started writing this, I was thinking about E-mail addresses. How did it evolve from there? I’m getting to that. See, in the old days of Yahoo, I had two accounts... one was (and still is) "Insanity_Incarnate", a name I had dating back to the days of Compuserve (back when there was still an hourly rate on Internet access). The other Yahoo name was "SPOOFE". Well, I screwed up the "SPOOFE" account... I asked for a password change, but genius-me, I had them send it to my SPOOFE@Yahoo.com address. In other words, I lost access to SPOOFE.

I was distraught. So I took my business elsewhere. I found Hotmail. SPOOFE@Hotmail.com was already taken (there are many pretenders to the throne out there), so after many long seconds of consideration, I decided to complete the melding of my two personalities by using my legal initials attached to my chosen identity... JMSPOOFE. I still use this. For all my drawings, I sign "JMSPOOFE" at the bottom. I began to glory in my united self.

You see, when I started writing this, I was thinking of one night when I stayed up ‘til 4 AM searching out E-mail services and signing up under the account name of JMSPOOFE. JMSPOOFE@Hotmail.com, Yahoo.com, Email.com, TheSpark.com, Mail.com, PinkFloyd.com, Address.com... all of ‘em, all JMSPOOFE. I never check the account, of course. I could have received an E-mail that said "You won a million dollars! Just click here!" and I wouldn’t know. Oh well. Even my AIM screen name is JMSPOOFE (I have several others, also pertaining to characters of mine, that I use to check up on people on my blocked list).

So what is it that makes me want to hang on to this silly little identity of mine? It’s not even a nickname, as I invented it myself and exposed others to it, instead of the other way around. It’s not a derivative of my legal name. It’s not taken from an amusing experience that happened to me (like Flip’s name is). Hell, it’s a very difficult name to have at times... I’ve been mistaken for "J.M.S. Poofey", "J.M.Spooey", "Jimspoofey", and any number of others. I manage to make do by calling it a Title (I’m the Overlord of this miserable planet, is basically what it says).

In ancient Rome, Julius Caesar had his name live on as a title... will my title live on as my name?