Obsess Pool

Human guinea pig A.J. Jacobs dishes on why he goes to extremes.

by A.D. Amorosi

[ first person festival/comedy ]

Nigel Parry PIGGING OUT: For his book The Guinea Pig Diaries, A.J. Jacobs posed nude, outsourced his daily tasks to women in India, and asked the Sex in the City actresses for relationship advice.

From his Esquire writings to his 2004 book The Year of Living Biblically: One Man's Humble Quest to Follow the Bible as Literally as Possible to his new collection of essays, A.J. Jacobs has sought to live in extremes. He's read the entirety of the Encyclopaedia Britannica from "a-ak" to "Zywiec," tithed his wages in accordance with Bible law and grown a monumentally long beard — and lived to tell the itchy tale.

But ... why? As he writes in 2009's The Guinea Pig Diaries, Jacobs tries to understand the world by immersing himself in extraordinary circumstances. For his latest, that meant creepily pretending to be his child's female nanny looking for online romance, outsourcing his daily errands to women in India, and attempting to persuade the Sex in the City actresses to help him propose to his long-suffering companion.

Luckily, Jacobs is as charming as he is thorough — otherwise you'd want to punch him in the schnozz.

AJJ: Weirdly, it's had the opposite effect. Real life has gotten more interesting. I did this experiment on "unitasking" — a term I made up to convey the opposite of multitasking. It forced me to actually pay attention to the world. When I was talking on the phone, I was actually listening to the other person! Novel concept. I started to notice how seemingly mundane things can be fascinating. Like the behavior of the pigeons on my windowsill right now. I know I sound like I just took my first bong hit, but so be it!

Academy of Natural Sciences: Family Four-Pack of Tickets | Mango Moon | Prive | Bliss | Raw Dawgs Saloon | Cream and Sugar | S & H Kebab House | Cafe Nola | Copabanana | Hollywood Tans: $50 for $25

HALF OFF DEPOT

Why live life at full price?

CP: Whether it's repairing a roof or mending a soul, what you do best — as far as I can tell — is take on grand tasks to encapsulate some sort of to-the-letter completeness, while portraying all of said idea's gentle, truthful aura. How frigging off am I?

A.J. Jacobs: You are not frigging off at all. That's exactly what I try to do. You are frigging correct.

CP: In terms of what drives you, are you an obsessive, an addict or a fanatic?

AJJ: I think I like the word "obsessive," if I have to choose. I have mild OCD — lots of hand-washing, which now in the swine flu era seems vindicated — and it spills over into my work. The projects take over my life. The world gets viewed through the lens of the experiment. When I followed George Washington's "Rules of Life," I saw the 2008 election in G.W. terms. For instance, I began to see Obama as a latter-day Washington.

CP: Do you think this will ever veer from playful, intellectual journalistic exercise to Evel Knievel-y heights? I ask because you certainly sit at the altar of George Plimpton. Ultimately, though, he seemed to be a caricature of his own dares. Are you worried about becoming a cartoon?

AJJ: By Evel Knievel-y, do you mean jumping canyons on my bike? I don't know if that's my style. I prefer to put myself in intellectual and social jeopardy — which can be painful in its own way. You're right, though. I do love that George Plimpton. But I think if I'm passionate about an idea, then I can hopefully avoid any cartoonishness.

CP: Broad question, sure, but: What are the criteria for ideas that will take you past the Esquire page?

AJJ: I try to write about topics that fascinate me. I became obsessed — there's that word again — with how weird human decision-making is, so I tried to become the most rational person alive. It can't be a topic I'm only mildly curious about.

CP: Other than your family, who know what you do and who you are, do you ever feel bad for putting unwilling or unwitting participants through an experiment's paces? Like what about the sadistic manipulation of "My Life as a Beautiful Woman" and your search for a beau on the Internet?

AJJ: I do feel bad for my wife, who is quite the saint. That said, she does have veto power over what projects I undertake. She nixed a suggestion from a reader that I do all the positions in the Kama Sutra. Also, the final experiment in the book is a month of me doing everything she says — sort of payback for what she's been through. As for feeling bad, I didn't feel too bad about going undercover as my baby-sitter online, because I thought the goal was a good one: Find her a boyfriend. The minor deception, I felt, was justified.

CP: With the smaller chapters of Guinea Pig Diaries — unlike your previous works — you have less space to ruminate. Did you leave anything out that you'd like to have included?

AJJ: If I had more room, I had a lot more to say about how irrational our brains are. It's crazy once you start to investigate it. Ninety percent of our decisions are ruled by laziness and inertia. Right on down to our toothpaste choice.

CP: You were photographed nude for an Esquire piece on living rationally, which also appears in Guinea Pig Diaries. Looking back, would you have changed anything about the experiment?

AJJ: I suppose I could have tried to be nude in a bunch of different situations. As a model for a life-drawing class. As a streaker. At a nudist colony. But I got a good dose of humiliation and vulnerability from the photograph. Plus, Mary-Louise Parker made me up during the sessions.

CP: Do you think that outsourcing our own lives would be an improvement for most of us?

AJJ: Let me ask Sanjee in Bangalore to answer that question. He'll get back to you soon.

CP: Does it matter that you may inspire good by attempting to be perfectly honest for a month, by living a completely rational life, by not multitasking and devoting your sole self to each effort individually, by insulting Kim Cattrall — all in accordance with your experiments?

AJJ: It kind of does matter to me. The best e-mails I get, aside from the one that informed me that Jean-Paul Sartre was "wall-eyed," not "cross-eyed," as I had written, are ones from readers who are inspired enough to try their own experiments. I love that. One woman tried not to judge for a month, another tried not to complain. Some have said they're interested in reading the encyclopedia, but their updates usually trail off after they get to the letter "B."

CP: You're coming to Philly for our First Person Festival. How is what you do applicable to other writers, who nobly or not-so-nobly wish to essay the self?

AJJ: I recommend these kinds of life experiments to everyone — writers and nonwriters. I think it's the best way to get out of a rut. And if you can write about it and have other people share your experience, all the better.

(a_amorosi@citypaper.net)

Sat., Nov. 7, 7 p.m., $15-$20, Painted Bride Art Center, 230 Vine St., 267-402-2055, firstpersonarts.org.