In Villainpunk, we encourage you to take on a fictional persona, one you can use like a costume or like garb, one which can help you change your mindset, enjoy possibilities outside of your everyday experience, and view the world through a lens of creative Villainy.
This is exactly what the Real World asks you to do, only the Real World seems to think it’s not pretending. Let’s humor the poor dears; they’re missing out.
Villainpunk is terribly flexible. While most subcultures spend their time wondering IF a given thing might fit into their plans, our offerings, in contrast, are always about HOW. Was Guthrie right? Can you rob more people with a fountain-pen than a six-gun? And if that’s correct, where do you find an appropriate holster, and in which states do you need a carry license for that writing implement.
“They’ll search any sharp objects, Chauncy—so don’t show them your mind!”
From “Chaunce: A Peter Sellers Film”
The Persona Itself
Now, for your persona, while it’s up to you, we recommend choosing from the wilder, more fanciful, less real-life elements of possibility. This is partly for reasons of creativity; partly for reasons of taste (other peoples’ imaginations are limited; do you really want to be the product of the lowest-common-denominator of ideas?)—and partly quite, quite practical.
If you’re inventing a Villainpunk person, you don’t want it to be too close to real life. Because Villainpunk seeks to free you from the banalities of that everyday life.
Consider what happens if you become something too similar to what is “real”. Outside of the generalized difficulties—
“It’s okay, Officer, I just pretend to be a monster because some other monster told me I could. This is totally normal adult human behavior and not suspicious at all.”—
I’d also like to note that, the more you identify with some kind of real Villainy, the more slings and arrows against that Villainy will wound you. If, say, you identified really, really seriously with a pickpocket, you might begin to feel bad when your local police cracked down on pickpocketing, and, rather horribly, you’d be no less likely to have your pocket picked than anyone else.
You’d get it from both sides.
That would be horrible.
This is why we stick to fictional Villainy; that, and we don’t know how to pick pockets.
You might then ask, “If Villainpunk isn’t going to do real crimes, does it have any teeth?”
Oh, darling.
Villainpunk is made of teeth.
Sometimes we charm. Sometimes we frighten.
Sometimes we do the one, when peoples’ response damn well ought to be the other.
It’s a strange world we inhabit, and we need to commit some massive imaginary crimes to get its attention!
