I have discovered that Wil Wheaton and Stella J. are the same person.
Charming as fuck, you say?
I have no facts to support the theory, but that seems normal these days.
First of all, this investigation is based entirely on a mess of circumstances with about as much possibility of being true as…well, I was about to say, “A pig being elected president of the United States of America.” So there may be some solid evidence here after all.
Anyway, what’s just happened to me is a bit of a story, and it begins in the most predictable way possible. Which is that I’ve discovered that Stella J. and Wil Wheaton are actually the same person. All the clues were there. Both of them make persistent reference to their journeys of self-reinvention. They both try to hide the fact that they’re huge nerds under a “see? I know how to ‘kewl’ — joke’s on you, nerds!” attitude, which fools nobody since we all know that they’re one pair of prosthetic ears away from descending on the nearest comic book convention. And they both have intimate knowledge of Patrick Stewart’s shiny head.
Okay, I made that last one up. It sounded better with a third thing, and I though, “Wil Wheaton got his start on Star Trek and ‘Stella’ means star” sounded like grasping a little bit.
Anyway, I’m pretty convinced at this point. I’m surprised I didn’t see it sooner, which is probably a commentary on my poor detective skills rather than the success of Stella Wheaton’s ability to disguise her — or his — dual personality.
What really gave it away to my slow-witted non-investigation is a shared quote. If you’re a little familiar with Stella J., you know that, on a good day she is charming as fuck. You know it’s true because of all her biographical writing, which must catalog her days ranging from good to eh, since the furthest from charming she seems to get is flirting with mere clarity, which you can’t strictly call charming, but you can’t call annoying either, so you may as well just say, she — or should I say “he” — has about as many good days as reasons to write for a few minutes.
And besides that she adopted it as a personal motto on her Medium profile page, so that we’re never in danger of missing the point. She’s one step away from translating it into Latin and emblazoning it on a banner under her coat of arms.
Which wouldn’t in itself be incriminating unless you’re familiar with Stella W.’s alternate personality. “Wil J.” — who in another life is no doubt penning his, or should I say her, fictional autobiography about being one mediocre career attempt away from becoming the next mid-range white rapper — is famous for a variety of things. Among them is having the number two million named after him, because his habit of adopting social media early garnered him with an opportunity to get two million twitter followers before anyone knew that there was even two million people in the world.
“Two million people?” the 2006 consumer of the internet says. “There are only a thousand people in the world and they all go to my high school. Everyone else is just an illusion. Everyone knows that.”
If you visit Wil’s twitter profile, you’ll discover something telling. Which is that, he, too, on a good day is charming as fuck. Two million twitter bots can’t all be wrong, right? It must be a family motto, because they even got the punctuation straight. Way to go, nerds! If nobody realized that’s what you were before, they do now! Nobody cool bothers with splitting up run-on sentences!
But wait, I hear the pickers of nits mumbling from the back seats, why would somebody living a dual life leave a blatant clue to the truth about her — or his — true identity? Wouldn’t he — or she — make every effort to avoid any blunders like that?
To which pickers, I say, “read the entire works of John le Carré and then we’ll talk.”
Not necessarily because that’ll teach you how to lead a dual life, although it might. I just want to talk about the ending of The Honourable Schoolboy.
You might argue that the investigation into the now obvious dual identity of Stilla Jheaton seems to hinge on what appears to be only one piece of tenuous evidence. To which argument I reply that I confronted Wila J Dot with the same argument, whereupon she — or he — practically confirmed the suspicion with the cunning use of misdirection, by informing me that the phrase, “on a good day, I’m charming as fuck,” is, in fact, a song lyric from the Swedish born pop star (careful how you arrange the consonants there) Tove Lo’s song “Moments,” and therefore anyone could have heard it.
Which could be the case, and Wil Wheaton and Stella J. are in fact merely privy to the same area of pop culture, just unpopular enough to still maintain street cred but popular enough to be socially relevant.
On the other hand, Wistellal W. H. Eat-no-J, if that is your real name, might have just been planning for this moment all along, and fabricated the cover story, including Tov Lo’s career and her eleven million Spotify followers, in order to throw investigators off his or her tracks. After all, it couldn’t have been too difficult to just add a third identity onto the first two.
I’m onto you, J. Wistovella Lhow Tonea.
A bit improbable, I admit, but it’s a world of improbability these days.