shallow

I've been obsessed with Seinfeld ever since March.

A co-worker made a copy of some of the recent DVDs from the first season, and shortly after that TiVo was installed in my office, allowing me to catch up on the hit TV show in reruns on TBS.

I liked the show when it was on the air but I never got too into it. The shows were always funny but something about its tone caused me to shy away from being an avid viewer.

But in the wake of my recent epiphanies about narcissism, Seinfeld has proven to be highly entertaining and relevant.

First, there's Jerry Seinfeld himself: relentlessly snide, smug, hypercritical and neurotic. He is shallow and vain, amused by his own wit and bemused by the world around him. Jerry, as a comedian, gets points for self-deprecation, but it is a symptom of his insecurity and not done as a healthy ego check. He is solipsistic and petty, and yet he also comes off as relatively normal when compared to the likes of...

George Costanza, the narcissist's narcissist, a pure and complete example of the self-centered persona-projecting egotist. George goes into a rage if his sense of self is violated in any way; he takes insults personally and plots revenge for the pettiest of reasons; his only pursuit in life is to gratify his many selves.

Elaine Benes, Jerry's ex, is just as vain and shallow as Jerry, which is why they were involved in the first place... and it also explains why they are no longer a couple, being that they are so much alike. This met-my-match chemistry keeps their relationship tense, as if the two are locked in a draw and both are unwilling to lay down their arms.

Finally, there's Cosmo Kramer, who doesn't appear to be a grade-A narcissist like the other three, until a close examination of his motives is performed. Kramer's insensitivity and singlemindedly maniacal pursuits are the proof we need to confirm that he is merely a variation on the type of immature ego that drives his friends to act out their weird psychodramas as they do.

Watching Seinfeld in the wake of my recent narcissistic forays has helped me to see what my main problem is: I have too much ego attachment. I function best when I put my ego to the side. I am a better person for letting petty grievances pass, for ignoring the silly absurdities that cause people to snap into ego defense mode, as if their very honor depended on the outcome of some insignificant row.

I still possess a massive ego, but I've gotten better at detaching myself from it when I need to, and usually I need to detach myself from my ego quite often. Social situations, one-sided conversations, misunderstandings, online communication... I've improved my tactics and streamlined my philosophy so that I can minimize my outrage over any sort of affront to my sense of self.

These are narcissistic times, and this is a narcissistic city. I feel like I am now more comfortable with my shallow side. I used to abhor being seen as shallow until I realized that, in several key respects, I am shallow.

A deep person would not have let an online stalker derail his progress. No, a deep person would've recognized immediately what was going on, and would've made decisions according to what would eradicate the conflict as opposed to fueling it.

I'm a smart guy, but I'm not wise. Solipsists and narcissists are often extremely intelligent but lack any sense of wisdom, of having learned a lesson. Well, I feel like I've learned my lesson for sure. I have proof of it, but rather than exploit it for the sake of a blog entry, I will keep it to myself. Suffice it to say, life is strangely balanced, and my theory that my personal existence unfolds like a novel in progress has been proven to me once again by the cosmos.

I have Seinfeld to thank for helping me come to terms with my shallow side. One of the few episodes I saw during the original run was the infamous last episode. I think that episode changed my view of the show and has allowed me to embrace it in reruns.

Of course, diehard fans hated the last episode, which saw our four protagonists getting their comeuppance for their pathetic lives and the damage they've inflicted upon everyone within range. I loved it, absolutely loved it. And watching the reactions of fans as they railed against the final episode the next morning was very rewarding.

I think that, with me, it's all about building up my ego so that I can tear it down. I think I subconsciously get off on it. And when someone like my online stalker eggs me on, it's out of a love for the fenceplay that goes with certain conflicts that I consent to getting mixed up with such folk.

I am OK with tearing down my own ego, but I'm only OK with someone else tearing it down if it toes my personal party line. Usually, to reclaim my own sense of self, I resort to self-deprecation but (as with Seinfeld himself) it's only a defense mechanism to help repair the damaged image in the mind.

I think I'm making some progress. I'll never be a completely selfless person, but I also think there's hope for a scoundrel such as myself.

Wish me luck.