Clary’s Cultural Cwtch #61

Have you ever found yourself being uber clever... or romantic... hilarious... or suave... only to realise you’re inadvertently quoting dialogue from a film or TV show?

I do it all the time.

Often I don’t even realise.

It doesn’t have to be visual media either. I’ve done it with poetry, songs and books too.

I’m not talking about the obvious, endlessly quoted lines. “A rose by any other name...” and all that.

I’m talking about Buffy the Vampire Slayer deep cuts.

“That’s a radical interpretation of the text.”

“You have but face.”

“That’s insane troll logic.”

Or Friends.

“I don’t know why my voice is so high because really, *lower pitch* I’m fine.”

“I would, but I don’t want to.”

Somewhere along the line these words quietly moved in.

They’ve taken up permanent residence in my vocabulary, and every so often they’ll wander out into conversation before I’ve even realised where they came from.

They’re not necessarily the greatest speeches ever written.

They’re just the words I didn’t know I’d be carrying for decades.

Somewhere along the way they quietly packed a suitcase, moved into my brain and refused to leave.

The funny thing is, I don’t even think of them as quotes anymore.

They’re just...things I say.

Or perhaps more accurately, things I carry.

Take Back to the Future.

Most people remember “Great Scott!” or “Roads? Where we’re going, we don’t need roads.”

My brain?

“No, wait...Doc. Doc. The...the...the bruise on your head. I know how that happened. You told me the whole story. You were standing on your toilet, hanging a clock. You fell and you hit your head on the sink. And that’s when you came up with the idea for the flux capacitor...”

Then we cut to Doc.

“When I came to...I had a revelation. A picture. A picture in my head...”

Marty quietly opens the drawing.

“The flux capacitor.”

“It works! It works! I finally invented something that works!”

I don’t know why that’s the bit I’ve carried around for decades.

Not the DeLorean. Not even the Hoverboards.

Not “Great Scott!”

Not “Roads?”

That scene.

Likewise, the Yellow Crayon speech from Buffy.

"I loved crayon-breaking Willow, and I love scary-veiny Willow."

That just speaks perfectly to the essence of platonic love...and to friendship in general.

It is paralleled perfectly in Spike’s speech to Buffy in the penultimate season finale.

"I've seen your kindness, and your strength, I've seen the best and the worst of you and I understand with perfect clarity exactly what you are. You're a hell of a woman."

Without wanting to sound all Clinton Cards, the bonds of true friendship are stronger than those plastic threads that keep the labels attached to new tops and are impossible to tear.

Friends who see the best and the worst of you and stick around for the ride. I think that's probably why both speeches have stayed with me. They're really saying the same thing.

Then there’s Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead.

“Eternity is a terrible thought. I mean, where's it going to end?"

It speaks to the existentialist in me.

The whole Dead in a Box speech is genius, in fact.

I spend a scary amount of time thinking about and fearing death.

Worrying about my children, particularly those with additional needs, and what will become of them after I’m dead.

It turns me dead in my tracks just thinking about it...yet I can’t stop myself.

Which links to another death-related quote from a comedy that has always stuck with me.

“I've killed myself so many times I don't even exist anymore."

It is a dark moment in a very funny film (Groundhog Day).

Nicky Wire also quoted that line in the Manics’ B-side of the same name. My brain probably made the connection because I’ve spent so much time thinking about my own death, it’s almost like I’ve killed myself many times.

The funny thing is, my father had a very blasé attitude towards death.

Even after suffering with prostate cancer and kidney failure, which he eventually succumbed to over lockdown.

He used to say:

"I don't fear death. I don't believe in heaven or hell. I think the lights will go out and that's that. I won't care, I'll be gone. It's the people that we leave behind that it's hard for."

That little pearl leads me to Veronika Decides to Die.

“Death is the only isle of certainty in the uncertain waters of life. No matter where life takes us, death delivers everyone to the same fate.”

It’s kind of saying a similar thing to my dad’s take.

Maybe that’s why it stuck.

Then there’s Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

"I could die right now…I’m just so happy. I’ve never felt that before. I’m just exactly where I want to be."

Believe it or not, I’m not actually a morbid person.

I think this line appeals to the romantic in me rather than the death obsessive.

It brings to mind a line from my own song Happy Dead.

"An empty space in my bed, another tune in my head, can't find new words cos they've all been said...so if this is heaven, I'd be happy dead. Yeah, if this is heaven, I'd be happy dead.”

Looking back, I don't think that song was ever really about death.

I was writing about complete contentment.

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind was always my go-to film for years after any break-ups.

Funnily enough, Buffy became my comfort binge-watch after a break-up too.

And linked with my love of oxymorons, contradictions and wordplay, there’s this Manics lyric that’s always stuck with me.

“I'm sick of being sick My little empire I'm tired of being tired My little empire I'm bored of being bored My little empire I'm happy being sad.”

That’s me all over. An optimistic pessimist. Getting joy from the pain.

They’re not just favourite quotes.

They’re little bits of other people’s writing that somehow became part of mine.

A little Buffy.

A little Tom Stoppard.

A little Back to the Future.

A little Paulo Coelho.

A little Nicky Wire.

A little Friends.

A little bit of my Dad.

And a little bit of me.

Somewhere along the way they’ve all become part of my own internal dialogue. They pop into conversations, songs, blog posts and podcasts without me even noticing. They’ve quietly become part of my vocabulary...and, in a funny sort of way, part of me too.

I suppose we’re all like that really.

We’re all just wandering around carrying tiny pieces of the stories that shaped us.

Words we didn’t know we’d be carrying for decades.

It’s cold in here.

Fancy a cwtch?

Clary x