What Brown Can't Do For You

I have noticed that recent college graduates have habitually struggled to find some semblance of identity after four years of exhaustively being labeled. I suppose there is a certain comfort in knowing that you belong either to a certain clique, segment of the student body, or are the guy everybody thought had graduated, like, three years ago only to be creeped out that he is sitting next to you in an introductory level politics class. However, once you accept your diploma and flip your tassel, the composite individuality imposed on you by your fellow classmates immediately molts away and ceases to exude any relevance whatsoever. And so, the search for the true, organic self begins.

Some graduates travel abroad hoping to be inspired by foreign landscapes and culture; others seek vocational schooling to equip themselves with a specialized skill to facilitate successful entry into the professional realm; while others sit stagnated on a couch watching the NFL Network and Room Raiders marathons passively waiting for something to happen.

However, much to the chagrin to those who have pursued these often painstaking avenues in order to "discover one’s self," a simple online personality quiz could have revealed everything they needed to know about themselves in a fraction of the time. Right now, I am currently content in knowing that I am Miranda from "Sex and the City," Marissa from the "O.C.," Brian from "Family Guy," Dwight from "The Office" and the black guy from "Grey’s Anatomy." Consequently, when I meet new people, I casually tell them that I am a breast cancer survivor who overdosed on painkillers in Tijuana and served as a police dog while maintaining a beet farm and once choked out Dr. McDreamy. Have I done any or all of these things? Well according to a few "television-themed" personality tests, yes I have.

By answering a slate of ridiculous questions and submitting your responses into a vast and random character-generating universe, you can specifically determine your own personality traits by being identified as a popular television character. This is either a sad indictment of the increased media induced conformity that is so rampant in our culture or just really, really convenient. Instead of pursuing the laborious task of getting to know people through a gamut of potentially awkward conversations, it would be just as informative and more entertaining to refer them to a small list of television programs and personalities that encapsulate the true essence of your character.

However, the character scope of some television shows is far too narrow for such an exercise to produce a conclusive and self-fulfilling outcome. Therefore, it is imperative to broaden the sample so that all unique traits and characteristics are well represented. In order to account for this complexity and breadth of human individualism, it is important to distinguish a single source that possesses a bevy of identifiable characters. My recommendation is biased, yet viable: Mike Tyson’s Punch Out. This game boasts a roster of rich and colorful personalities who possess an array of recognized stereotypes that are universally identifiable. Let’s examine each character individually to determine which one best exemplifies you.

You are Glass Joe:

You are a glutton for punishment who resents that the Reset button is pressed every time you land a punch. You have 99 losses in 100 professional fights and your only victory came against a fellow Frenchman who surrendered before you had the chance to. Despite the painful rigors you have endured throughout your lackluster boxing career, you are blissfully unaware that fights can be longer than one round.

You are Von Kaiser:

You take pride in your mustache and antiquated and hateful political ideologies. Although your name is translated as "of the Emperor," you failed to fulfill your supposed birthright and you consequently developed a severe inferiority complex as you never ascend to a rank above a mere contender.

You are Piston Honda:

Despite attaining the championship in the minor circuit, you harbor a maddening jealousy of your more successful cousin, Honda Prius, which you take out on your opponents. After years of depression resulting from your unrealized potential, you receive a ray of sunshine in your life when your longtime friend and national hero, Shinjo, gloriously returns to Japan after a brief stint as a Major League Baseball player in America.

You are Don Flamenco:

You either are a strong believer in déjà vu or just completely baffled by Little Mac’s simple alternating combination of lefts and rights. Blessed with a surname that reflects your flamboyant dancing skills, you fail to use your quick feet in the ring as you are easily distracted by Mr. Referee Mario’s hair despite the fact that it is covered by a misshapen digital red cap.

You are King Hippo:

You prefer to be called King despite not being recognized by any authoritative international body. A man of mystery who lists your weight and age as "??," you obnoxiously boast that "I have my weakness. But, I won't tell you! Ha, ha, ha!" I am sorry to you that it is pretty fucking obvious: aside from Peanut M&M’s, it is your tendency to leave your soft and ample stomach exposed for a thorough beating. However, despite your slovenly appearance, you are the king of etiquette, as you would rather lose a fight than have your shorts fall down in front of a crowded arena.

You are Great Tiger:

Even though you have the utmost respect and admiration for the animal, your Tiger-skinned robe has earned you the ire and hate of PETA. Through years spent in illegal underground magic schools, you have mastered the Tiger Punch through the art of teleporting. However, this mystical ability is deemed worthless, as you have also perfected the unfortunate propensity of telegraphing, as you tell your opponent to expect this potentially dizzying jab.

You are Bald Bull:

Always known to pass the buck, you adamantly blame your baldness on your barber even though it was genetically inherited from your mother’s side of the family. Your pre-fight routine consists of attempting to intimidate your opponent by blowing deformed man-kisses at him and your repertoire of punches is highlighted by your Bull Charge, which is an exaggerated and pompous uppercut which usually leaves you face down on the canvas. Many fight observers have speculated that your testicles have yet to descend from your abdomen as every time you get hit in the stomach you appear as if you been hit in the nuts.

You are Soda Popinski:

An ardent sympathizer with the Communist Russia of yore, you like your wars just like your beer . . .cold. Your adroitness as a fighter is only surpassed by your ability to hold a bottle while wearing a boxing glove. Despite having been one of the finest fighters ever produced by the U.S.S.R. and possessing a PSI punch of close to 2000, you eventually become the Russian Karl Malone as you are a contemporary of the Great Ivan Drago, the Michael Jordan of the state sponsored doping and boxing program.

You are Mr. Sandman:

You seemingly embrace your moniker as you constantly espouse trite expressions about going to sleep. Despite your impressive record, your two loses were not as a result of a knockout, but rather of your narcolepsy which you have been fighting since birth.

You are Super Macho Man:

Your 35-0 record is a testament to your ability to make your opponents fall in love with you by hypnotically flexing your pectoral muscles. Your listed age of 27 belies your older appearance, complete with pasty complexion and gray hair. Either you are lying or are simply an albino.

You are Little Mac:

At the age of 17, you drop out of high school and literally enroll in the school of hard knocks: the WVBA boxing circuit. Despite being listed at only 107 pounds, the WVBA commission grossly neglects weight class enforcement leaving you to fight opponents three times your size. To compensate for this startling disadvantage, you hire washed-up former heavyweight champion Doc Louis for sage guidance. However, Doc has a poor ringside manner and can only muster shallow advice such as "join the Nintendo Fan Club today" when you are desperately seeking strategy. Your boxing attire consists of a tank top, which may indicate a reluctance to take your shirt of at the beach and you have to constantly deflect rumors of homosexuality resulting from your pink warm-up suit.

Somewhere within this spectrum lies a personality that best encapsulates you (please excuse my obvious omission of Mike Tyson as I did not want to insult anybody). Which one is it? Please leave a comment and let me know. Take care.