Imposter Syndrome

All up to you, Pankham, under an app.

[MUSIC PLAYING] Good morning, good afternoon, all good evening. Depending on where you are on the planet, welcome to ill advised by Bill Nany. And the clue is in the titan.

This is a podcast for people who don't get out much. And when they do, they want to turn back time. It's a refuge for the clumsy and the awkward. Really, this is an invitation to squander time. I will try and answer certain questions without actually making things worse.

“The thing you must, you don't have to know anything.”

But the thing I would, I'd just like to make clear, is that I don't know anything about the questions before they're sprung on me. And I just react to them as they happen live as it were in the studio. And also, the other thing is that I don't remember anything that I've said, because I've got a really bad memory.

The other day, I had because I want to recommend books. I've got about five books that I thought would be good to recommend. And I ran them past my producer Alice. What he was saying, she said, you've already done that one. And you've already done that one.

And you've already done that one. And you've already done that one. And you've already done that one. And you've already done that one. So there were five books I've forgotten.

Anyway, the point is I never remember anything I've said

on the podcast and a friend of mine text of me the other day and said that he thought that I was the only other person he'd ever come across who realized or had noted that in you endow was in fact a new endow in itself. And in previous times when somebody said in you endow

in his presence he would reply in your endow. Which I thought was quite funny. So I hope that was in fact his name is Jonathan Schlinger. And he's one of the most gifted actors in Britain just for the record. Jonathan Schlinger, thank you for that.

Thank you for all your questions and comments. And let's have a question now. Hi Bill, it's Marais here. I'm a florist in London. And one of the most vexing questions we get asked

is could you design some flowers for a man? Some masculine flowers. And after 25 years in the business I'm still not entirely sure what masculine flowers are. And I wonder, do you know what they are?

And even if you don't, what are your favourite flowers? Because that's probably the right answer. Thanks Bill.

“Marais, I don't think you should struggle with this question at all.”

I don't think there is such a thing as a masculine flower.

I always resent the packaging for male toiletries.

And I always buy the female ones because they're prettier. Male toiletries like deodorants and stuff are always in sort of black or black and red or red. And they're really unappealing, whereas female toiletries, if you'll pardon the expression, are pretty in pale colours or pinks and blues

and whatever. I'm so I'm all for that. So I don't think there's any such thing. I think it should not be encouraged the idea that men prefer different anything.

Different colours or different flowers or different whatever. My favourite flower? I don't know, my favourite flower. I think my favourite flower is a corn flower because I love that blue.

Hi, Bill. Hannah here from the little island of Goende. Love the show. My question, if I may.

“How do I convince my husband that getting a highland cow is sensible?”

We have goats, chickens, ducks, turkeys etc. Surely a highland cow is the logical next step. Thanks in advance. Hannah, I have to confess, I'm worried about you. I don't know how much space you have.

I don't know what your general situation is. You seem to have a lot of animals around the house already. And as you say, maybe a larger animal is the logical conclusion, but not necessarily, I would have thought, what you get, you get milk. I don't know that I would be able to persuade your husband.

Whether you can or not, I don't know. Maybe you can. I don't think I could be able to come up with any, and what you call sensible reason to buy a cow.

But it just seems slightly odd thing to do.

And it's a lot of work, isn't it? But then you've got a lot of work anyway, because you've got the turkeys and the chickens and the geese. If you were on a farm and if you were a farmer, then maybe you know what's the problem. But you accept that you would buy 12 cows. But I don't know why you want a cow.

Maybe you could tell us more about this, and we could answer it more. It's satisfactory if we had more data. But this takes me back to a question in season one from a gentleman from Mongolia, who wanted me to explain what he should do now that his horse had gone off him. And I was so either flattered or astounded that he would imagine that I would know the answer to that.

“I think in the end I suggested a book of chocolates.”

Anyway, I just want you to know that I have dealt with, you know, large animals before.

But I've never dealt with a cow.

Why do you want a cow, Hannah? I mean, we need more information. What is it that makes you so badly want a cow that you've got in touch with me, who is about as likely to be able to persuade your husband as you are, or anyone in the world. If a man doesn't want a cow, you know what I mean?

(Music) Hi Bill, my name is Essie, and I'm from Nigeria. My question is, how can one deal with imposter syndrome? Thank you Bill.

Essie, that's the big question.

“And I think you've come to the right person.”

I have struggled with what's called imposter syndrome. And I've tried all kinds of things. When I was young, I used to wake up, and I would beg fate to not have me get paranoid that day. Which is pretty much the same thing as imposter syndrome. It's just the idea that other people find you either ridiculous or hilarious or pathetic or both.

Because once paranoid kicked in, I was really difficult to get rid of it. And I used to, if it happened saying the pub, I would go into the men's room, lock the cubicle door, jump up and down violently, and shake my head from side to side, saying, you know, "Prefame things to get it out of my head." And then I would, you know, wash my hands and go back into the bar.

I'm not suggesting you do that, Essie, because, you know, you'd be in trouble in the men's room, obviously. But there was a point in my life where I would stand in the rehearsal room rehearsing a play. And I would watch the director walking among the rest of the cast and talking and laughing. And then I would imagine him coming over to me and saying, "Buil, we thought it could work, but it's really not working out. And we're going to have to find another actor."

And I would stand in the wing sometimes before entering onto the stage into the play. And I would think, "I would assume that when I opened the door and walked on the stage, I was going to disappoint something like 800 people." And then I had to have a talk with myself, and I, because there was nothing else to do. So I had this lame conversation with myself where I'd say, "Well, why do you think they're going to be disappointed?" And I said, "I don't know. I just, to myself, I said, "I don't know. I just presume they will be."

But then why should they be? Well, because I'm not Alan Rickman or Jeremiah's. Why would they want to see Alan Rickman and do you know they want to see Alan Rickman or Jeremiah? No, I don't know that, but I just kind of think they're bound to. Why are they bound to prefer to see Jeremiah's or Alan Rickman rather than seeing you? Do you have any evidence? No, I have no evidence for that, so open the door and shut the fuck up.

“And then I'd walk on stage, not the best way to prepare, really, for delivering one of the most significant contemporary players written in my lifetime.”

But just so you know, I'm no stranger to such thoughts. I was fine until I reached puberty, I think, I can't really remember, but I know that after puberty I became agonizingly self-conscious. As this, you know, pretty common amongst people at that age, I remember when I found out I was shy because my brother, I had an older brother who was already at work when I was about 13 or 14. And he got some tickets for a rock and roll show, and he came home from work and he said, "I've got these tickets for the rock and roll show, would you like to come?"

And I said, "No, because I couldn't face going to a rock and roll show because I was too shy." And I went upstairs and it was a small house, so you could hear everything. And my brother saying to my mum, something like that, ungrateful little bastard, sorry Martin.

You know, I got him these tickets and he won't come. And my mother said, "You know what he's like? He's shy."

And I was upstairs and I heard this and I thought, "Shy." And on top of everything else that I was dealing with at that time, it seemed really unfair.

“And so now I'm a shy person. And it was like, I remember finding out I was tall because I was late for an appointment in a railway station.”

And I heard the person I was supposed to meet asking someone if they'd seen me and they said, "He's tall." And I thought, "Fuck, I'm tall," which was a revelation at the time, because you know, you don't know if you're tall. And I remember a friend of mine saying once, "As if I'd known it all along," he said, "Well, you know, you're highly strong." And I was thrilled because, you know, it sounded so cool, you know, highly strong. And it was just something to know about yourself because when you're young,

you don't know anything about yourself and you're hungry for facts. And that seemed to me to be a great fact that I was highly strong. It sounded like a pretty cool thing to be, you know, like, twang kind of thing. Like the young used to say, "Tonk," when they meant "buff." I was used to, like, "Tonk." It didn't last long, "Tonk."

But it was what you meant when you meant, like, ripped or fit. And they would say, "Tonk," he's well-tonk, which I thought was quite a good word, but it didn't last rather. My nickname when I was young was nervous. You know, if I made a phone call, people would say, "Nervous is on edge." There are still a couple of people left alive who might call me "Nerv."

They used to call me "Nerv" for short, not because I had any quite the reverse.

People used to beg me to sit down because I never used to sit down. I'd always pace around.

And I would keep my coat on. They'd say, "Take your coat off." And I'd say, "No, no, no." Because you never know when you've got to leave. You never know when you've got to be. I was always in transit kind of thing because I couldn't settle because I was, I guess it was just another expression of all the anxiety. I would struggle with self-doubt, like most people, well into my, what's laughingly referred to as my adulthood.

And as I say, I've tried all kinds of things. But because I am of an advanced age, I can't tell you that all of the negative propaganda that happened in my head, all of the paranoid imaginings of me being, you know, about to be humiliated. It all turned out to be lies. It was all cruel, fantastical lies. It was only wrong with me. I was a perfectly average person.

And I was capable of doing, you know, the normal things in life, which I'd invented myself as incapable of.

And you can always call us as he, just call us, because it's always a lie.

“How do you feel about being invited over to a friend's house for drinks and nibbles?”

Only to be asked to remove your shoes, watch your through the threshold of their home? I personally find the prospect of standing around in my socks, making small talk unsettling and humiliating. So, should I literally stand firm on this and refuse? Thanks, Dan. From the great city of London. Dan, I don't know if you're a regular listener to ill-advised by Bill Nye, but the word, and I don't really want to say it.

And my colleague in the room with me has just put her jumper in her mouth again, because she fears me saying the word. But the word is nibbles. My friend is now bent double with tears coming out of her eyes. She's ruined her makeup. And it's your fault, Dan. It's all your fault. Well, Dan from the great city of London, nibbles is on the bandlist. We banned it some time ago. But that's okay. We're going to go on to your question, which is a very, very good question.

It reminds me that when I was a young boy, I was an altar boy in a Catholic church, and I was a very enthusiastic Catholic, and I was a very keen altar boy.

“And at Easter, the parish priest would find, I think, I suppose it would be 12 local men to come up on the altar, and he would get down with warm water and a cloth and wash their feet.”

And they were short of a man from the local community, and they needed one more. And I was the altar boy on that day, and so they said to me, you will be the 12th man, I think it was 12.

And I thought my feet might smell, and that the parish priest would, you know, recoil, because, you know, I was a bit of a stranger to soap, as a young altar boy. So just reminded me of that.

Yeah, I don't like taking off.

“I mean, if you live in a house where you have to take your shoes off to walk in the door, I mean, something's not working, surely.”

If the carpet is worth so much money that you can't risk a shoe, I don't know how you can dare to put it on the floor. I don't know what to say, really. It's a very difficult one down. I mean, obviously you have to do it, or you have to say, I'm not prepared to come in your home without my shoes on, but shoes not much of an option, really.

So I don't know what the answer is, but I can only offer fellow feeling and solidarity and say that I too don't want to make small talk in my socks.

It's now time for this week's, you don't understand 'cause I'm like with the band, which is our feature. Where we invite contributions from people that used to have an embarrassing band with an embarrassing band name, and with some embarrassing lyrics for there, what we like to call signature song. And this week is from Jason in London, and he admits that he used to have a rock and roll band at school, and they were called The Big Orange Dogs. Well, I don't know, you know, of all, anyway, I don't know what to say about that Jason really.

It's got a very big laugh in the room here. You don't know 'cause they're doing it silently, but there are two grown women here who are finally at difficult to breathe.

And you had the lyrics to your song "Armichage Shanks." I hope everybody remembers what "Armichage Shanks." Where would you see that? You'd see it in the men's room. Okay, and this is called "Armichage Shanks." And it goes, "A vase of consumption, our God of the day, without your great service, where would we play?" And as Jason puts underneath terrible Jason freely admits, and I have to say, I mean, they're funny, but strictly speaking, they're terrible.

And now it's time for this episode's playlist, which is called, "Sure, there's shame in my eyes, but I still function." And I'm not going to elaborate on that. And it starts with a song called "Mourning Show" by Iggy Pop, which is one of my favorite Iggy Pop songs, and it also, you know, I have done the morning show.

“So it's a good way of speaking about what that whole thing is like, you know, when you have to go out in public and kind of, you know, present yourself, particularly first thing in the morning,”

where they usually have a purple sofa and bright yellow floor tiles, and everybody seems to speak just a little bit louder than they would in normal life. And they go, "Good morning!" And you're like, "Yeah, okay. Any high?" Anyway, this is called a morning show, and it's about that, and it's about when you don't feel like it. There are four lines in it that I particularly like, which go, "The hurt that's in my face didn't come from outer space. I'm crispy on the outside and juicy where I cry, which I think is sort of perfect pop lyrics. It's a great tune.

And then there's a sweet love song about two high school lovers from Donald Fagan, who was one half of Steely Down, you may remember, I'm sure you know, and it's called Maxine, and that's a sweet song about early love.

“And then there's a song by Bos Gags, and if you're not aware of Bos Gags, I think the album to start with is called DIGDIG.”

And this is a track from DIG, and it's called DESIRE, and it's about how we are persuaded into wanting things. And it's very, very beautifully expressed about how we are, how they arrange for us to be dissatisfied, so they can sell us stuff, which won't actually satisfy us. That thing. So that's cool. And then there's a song by Gagsman with a Z, Gagsman with a Z Sullivan, who I particularly like, who write songs about all kinds of stuff, like unlikely things.

But you have to go on the roster, because you know, I've got a lot of other things going on, and as long as that's okay with you, then you know, put your name down, which is kind of refreshing.

“And then there's a song by Andrea or Andrea Johnson, which is a song about hoping for better times, and it speaks for itself really, and then there's a song called Twinkle by a young man called Heather.”

Well, it's not his name, but his, as it were, a band name is HETHER Heather, and that kind of speaks for itself as well. It's a love song, and it's cute. So there you go, that's this week's playlist.

Sure, there's shame in my eyes that I still function. This week's recommended book is called Mrs. Calaban, and it's by Rachel Engels, INGAWLS, all of these titles you don't have to remember because they will be included in the show notes after the program. I'm going to read a bit of Mrs. Calaban. She came back into the kitchen fast to make sure that she caught the toasting cheese in time, and she was halfway across the checked linoleum floor of her nice safe kitchen, when the screen door opened, and a gigantic six foot seven inch frog-like creature,

“shouldered its way into the house, and stood, stock still in front of her, crouching slightly, and staring straight at her face. She stopped before she knew she had stopped and looked without realizing that she was taking anything in.”

She was as surprised and shocked as if she had heard an explosion and seen her own shattered legs go flying across the floor. There was a space between him and the place where she was standing, it was like a gap in time. She saw how slowly everything was happening. She felt that he was frowning at her, but he hadn't moved yet. Her mouth was slightly open, she could feel that, and waves of horripilation fled across her skin. A flash of heat or ice, sped up her backbone and neck, and over her scalp so that her hair really did seem to lift up, and her stomach hurt. Then swimming among all the startlingly released fragrances of her shock and terror, she caught the slight scent of burning, which wanted her about the toast.

It was the reason why she'd been rushing in the first place, and without thinking, she darted forward, grabbed a pot holder, turned the gas off, dumped the little pieces of toast onto the plate that had been set out for them, and slid the grill tray back into the stove. The creature made a growling noise, and she came to her senses, she took a step backwards, the growling increased, she took another step and bumped into the table. At the far end of the table lay the celery, carrots, and tomatoes, the head of lettuce, and her favourite sharp knife, which would cut through anything just like a razor.

“She reached out her hands slowly, slowly she reached further forward, she kept her eyes fixed on his. His eyes were huge and dark, seeming much larger than the eyes of a human being, and extremely deep.”

His head was quite like the head of a frog, but rounder, and the mouth was smaller and more centered in the face like a human mouth. Only the nose was very flat, almost not there, and the forehead bulged up in two creases. The hands and feet were webbed, but not very far up, in fact, only just noticeably, and as for the rest of the body, he was exactly like a man, a well-built, large man, except that he was a dark, spotted green browning colour, and had no hair anywhere, and his ears were unusually small, set low down and rounded.

She stretched way out across the table, took her eyes off his for an instant, and picked up the long stalk of celery next to the knife. The growling stopped. She took a step forward slowly, and held out the celery in front of her.

[Music] It'll advise by Bill Nye. I was produced by Alice Williams and Kira Greggere. A system producer was unusually exome, pronounced soma, and it's an iPod production, and Bill Nye Ghee remains an executive producer, and that is the correct pronunciation of Bill's name, he'd like me to say that.

“There are a lot of people going around saying, "Oh, Karl's a funny thing, but it's Bill Nye Ghee, and that's fine."”

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