Deliver us from fucking Joan – in response to Amanda Palmer

Love her or hate her (I'm firmly in the love camp), Amanda Palmer is a provocateur, a conversation-starter, a bestselling author, a TED talk-giver, and, originally a musician. I mean, she's still a musician, but it's impossible for one to talk about Amanda Palmer without noting the myriad of mutations her career has taken. (Seriously, #careergoals.)

This is what a badass career woman looks like to me.

This is what a badass career woman looks like to me.

Palmer recently published oh Lorde, deliver me from Fucking Joan, a beautifully-written screed on the imaginary Fucking Joan, someone she views as being the personification of an ultra-successful, ultra-famous musician. Someone that Palmer– for all of her own success and accomplishments– feels jealous of. You know, the Regina Spektors and Lady Gagas of the world.

To wit:

it was more what i’ve come to call “piano string theory”: two piano strings that resonate closely but not perfectly will almost sound more out of tune and grating than two strings that are further apart. we feel insecurity about what’s almost us, but not quite us. we’re not wildly jealous of the strangers across the globe living in totally different buildings with totally different cultures: we’re jealous of the fuckers right next door. like two pieces of translucent design making moiré pattern, the almost-equal creates more noise than anything else. (why is that? theories welcome.)

I believe everyone feels jealousy over what they haven't achieved professionally, because it's human to do so. And Palmer's right, I personally have been more jealous of my friends and coworkers here in New York City than in Los Angeles, or London, or beyond.

What is it about proximity that affects our jealousy of others?

Have you ever felt this way?

Do you have any piano string theories of your own? 

Let's start a discussion on this - Add your thoughts to the comments!