SALLY, SEVEN

A rebel, obviously. She’s very determined to help — stalk? — Jack. She’ll poison the doctor in order to escape. She’s so very mild-mannered while being utterly ruthless! What a great character.

Sally is very likable, very relatable. Her shyness, her doubt, her bravery. She’s also curious.

So many qualities! How to narrow her down to an Enneagram number?

We’re in an imagined reality with Rules of the Magic that work against discovering her, but even with that we can say she isn’t a Body Type. She throws herself out a window and lands with a thud! She’s a trooper about the whole thing, stitching herself back together, but she goes ka-splat.

Wait. A trooper. Is she a Six?

She’s regimented about right and wrong. She even says, “This feels wrong,” about the Sandy Claws plan. Staying with the doctor is wrong to her, and so she won’t comply. Saving Jack is right, and without hesitation she pursues Santa’s rescue. She’s pretty smart about it, too.

Aha! She’s a Seven. Men Sixes are troopers. For women it’s the Sevens. They’re methodical and relentless, while still willing to chase risk and adventure.

Also, something about being stuffed with leaves feels so Seven. What other number would be so practical and sensual at the same time?

JACK SKELLINGTON, EIGHT

Pure energy. He’s exhausting! Restless, he loves new ideas and new stimulus. When he finds the holiday doors and goes to Christmas Town he becomes obsessed with enacting his plan.

And he’s a little dense about what the holiday means. It’s all observed through his Halloween lens. He’s willing to learn and try new things, but he’s also entrenched in his own experiences. It takes the whole movie to break him out of his mindset. Which number powers forward, and reassesses afterward?

Completely lanky, his physique is probably not an indicator of his Enneagram number. He’s a skeleton. His design dictates his look. He’s very robust and active, though. That’s a true clue about him. His physical expressiveness is extreme.

I want to say a Seven because of his curiosity, but we must consider a Body Type, too. He seems too cavalier about the financial details involved in hosting Halloween, so I’ll rule out a One. I’ll also say he’s not a Nine, who would appreciate the 364 days that aren’t Halloween. Changing the holiday is too much conflict.

An Eight? His gusto for playing Santa could go either Seven or Eight. Also his scientific exploration of Christmas, his formulas and experiments, could indicate either number. The same for that confident bullheaded quality. 

It’s his confrontation with Oogie Boogie that makes him an Eight. He goes right in, relying on physicality and bossiness to defeat the villain. A Seven would’ve created a plan.

Desert Lullaby

12″ x 12″ on prepared board, based on an original commissioned painting by Jahn Breeze.

A period Western, Fort Defiance is a screenplay that no longer exists.

Written in the 90s, it was shopped to actors’ agents and production companies, generated interest, and then failed to move forward. Over the years I’ve tinkered with it, trying to bring new life into a project that came oh-so-close.

Here’s what I want to say about my personal white elephant: She was a good piece of work. Since creating Fort Defiance I’ve become a better writer, and I have the skills to make this a better script . . . but it’s not possible. Any project is of a time and place. Who I was, how I thought, what the world and society considered taboo, can’t be revisited. Let the project go. This is my farewell to a lifelong story.

Recording this song reiterated that lesson. On my album Heart of Iron I had an experienced instrumentalist and recording partner. All I had to do was sing. This time, although I’ve been blessed once again with an excellent sound engineer, I had to wear every musical hat and my expertise is paltry. I wish I could present a smoother version of Desert Lullaby, but the most important thing is to get it out now, while it’s of the moment. I will get better, and the pressure of publication is part of that improvement process.

Listen to Desert Lullaby at bandcamp.

BUBBLESTAND

Another classic Spongebob episode! I’ll probably write this exact line before every Enneagram review. My childlike delight in this rewatch is slightly embarrassing.

ONE

Again, the underwater world and the pineapple neighborhood are established. Spongebob steps forth from his door and enjoys the peaceful environment of the day.

TWO

Boom. Cut to Spongebob hammering on a construction project in his front yard. The timing is perfectly comedic. It’s also Trouble.

THREE

Squidward leans out his window and complains. How is this the Three? Well, first, this is the thing that happens next after the Two. Not a great reason! Also, this Squid behavior is in almost every episode that includes him. Again, why? Stay tuned . . .

FOUR

Squid practices his clarinet and Spongebob finishes his construction. It’s a Bubblestand. Twenty-five cents a blow. Patrick pops up, borrows a quarter from Spongebob, and gives it a go.

He can’t blow, though. And he really, really tries! Big physical humor here. When he finally tires, Spongebob displays a “lessons” sign. Patrick borrows the quarter again. Oh, man, it really is funny. The timing!

SWITCH

Teaching the “Technique” is the lesson. In the Four, bubble blowing was a known thing to us poor normal rubes. After the Switch, we are amazed.

FIVE

With the Technique, Spongebob blows a set of ducks that quack when they pop. A boat bubble sounds its horn. An elephant, working its way into Squid’s window, erupts with a trumpet. Patrick is so delighted with it all.

But here comes Squid. He eventually plops down a quarter to show them how it’s done. All he can blow is a misshapen little bubble that makes a fart noise when it pops. Meanwhile, as he tries again and again, Spongebob and Patrick encourage him to use the Technique, demonstrating it. Eventually Squid does, remembering it perfectly (which is so wonderful), and his bubble is immense.

SIX

Squid brags about his success and completely denies that Spongebob’s Technique helped.

Here’s why I think the Three is the Three: Squid at the mirror points is a bad neighbor. He starts out unfriendly and alone, and after all the antics of the story he ends up unchanged. I see his behavior as a set of brackets. Everything contained, the absolute wonder of the bubble-blowing, won’t impact him. He won’t let it.

It’s not my favorite Three/Six, and I had to squiggle to line it up, but I’ll count it as legitimate.

SEVEN

He chooses to ignore and/or lie about the Technique, leaves his neighbors in the yard, and returns to his clarinet. Saying, “I rock,” he takes the credit for his bubble.

EIGHT

The overly large bubble returns, descending with ominous music and a heavy shadow. It envelops Squid’s house and lifts it up. With a giant fart noise, the bubble (offscreen) bursts. Spongebob and Patrick run away.

Okay, this is interesting: How many times will an episode’s Eight be Squidward’s comeuppance? And we love it every single time.

NINE

The Easter Island head settles into its spot, crooked and askew. A sad clarinet sound is heard.

ICHABOD CRANE, ONE

The iconic Halloween figure. You’ve got autumn leaves and a pumpkin, fall harvest dances and returning to school. Washington Irving’s short story and the Disney animated production are watchable and necessary year after year. (Also, need I say it: Bing.)

So, what is this skinny, homely, frightened man? His small lankiness immediately suggests a One, but his personality doesn’t really mesh with that. Ones are much more likely to conquer the world than to cringe from it.

But wait. Ichabod’s main motivation is money. He courts Katrina because her family’s rich. He tutors children to get a free dinner. He even, in the epilogue, is rumored to live married and well-off in another town. Now, that’s One-ish.

But he’s such a klutz. That’s not One-ish. The storytellers want him to be awkward on his horse so he can contrast with the Headless Horseman bearing down on him. I see no reason, though, to have him bumble around the dance. He is depicted as clumsy.

He’s bookish and uncoordinated. What a horrible stereotype to perpetuate! Interestingly, in the written story, his moral character — mean, small, cheap — is stressed. He’s almost cold in regards to Katrina. Disney has taken all this and physicalized it in, I would say with hindsight, an unfortunate choice. Eh, it’s a twenty minute short. Show, not tell.

I’m going with One. I think Disney has exaggerated Ichabod beyond the bounds of the number, but I’ll stick with it.

CARL, TWO

He’s a friar. Bookish, ivory tower-dwelling, into research and experimentation but not real world application of his knowledge. Of course, in a hallmark of great storytelling, Carl must leave his comfort zone. “I want to return to my laboratory” would be a perfectly good action phrase for Carl to play. A lot of thwarting makes for exciting drama.

Out in the world, though, he doesn’t shirk. He’s a good teammate with untapped bravery. So, what number is he?

I want to lean away from Body Type. He’s not athletic. He’s a sympathetic fellow towards others, and he loves his inventions. Two? He’s also kind of ambivalent about his religious vocation. If he’s a Head Type it’s not as a Five or Six. He may have stumbled into the job as a Seven — he certainly has a lot of fun in his lab — but he seems a little too timid for that. A Seven would jump at the chance to ride with Van Helsing.

Two it is. Carl is a kind heart, but he’s not fastidious about rules. And he loves the gadgets.

FRANKENSTEIN’S MONSTER, NINE

This is specifically the version of the Monster in Van Helsing. I’m trying to remember. He’s barely “born”, right? The Doctor is killed, villagers come with torches, and the Monster falls into the flaming windmill. I don’t think he has a chance to be mistreated by his creator.

However, he is co-opted into Dracula’s scheme, and he resists. This Monster seems to instantly know right from wrong, justice from injustice. He does not want to be used to power the vampire babies.

The traditional Monster is a Four. Feelings seem to go with the territory of this character. I want to say Nine, though, for this Monster. It’s the justice. Also, he’s very conscious of his size and strength. He can unleash his power, but he chooses to control it.

He’s actually a very sweetly written/acted Nine. He has a touch of Six in him (his weakness number) that gives him a tenderness and sympathy.

TEA AT THE TREEDOME

It’s one of the best Spongebob episodes ever! When in doubt, pinkie out! As the third part of Episode One, this story is the longest and conveys a lot of world-building and character-building information.

ONE

We’re underwater, of course. Spongebob often establishes this, which I like. It’s such a beautiful, peaceful world. Immediately I’m ready for a great episode.

This is our first time seeing Spongebob jellyfish. (Jelly fish? Jellyfish fish?) His glasses, his net, his sneaky smile — all so charming.

TWO

He hears a strange noise. It’s Sandy having a fight with a clam shell. We don’t know yet that it’s Sandy, so the Two is an introduction to her character. It goes on for a while, but Sandy has a lot of rules that need explaining!

Spongebob pulls out a book: Field Guide, and looks up “Land Squirrel”. This is all hilarious.

Karate, something Sandy and Spongebob share, is introduced. They like each other.

THREE

As part of their karate showing-off, they head chop each other. When Spongebob hits Sandy, her air helmet becomes the focus. Sandy says that air is good, and Spongebob, who clearly doesn’t understand, agrees.

FOUR

He’s invited over for tea and cookies. Immediately Spongebob stops by Patrick’s rock to ask, “What’s air?” Patrick goes with “putting on airs” and tells Spongebob to “pinkie out”.

And here’s the treedome. It’s so pretty! It has an airlock with an alarm light. We’re just waiting for Spongebob to finally understand. Delicious anticipation. Sandy has a great place.

SWITCH

Air vs. water finally becomes clear to Spongebob. 

FIVE

Either he doesn’t want to admit his ignorance, or he doesn’t want to be rude to his new friend, but Spongebob pretends the lack of water isn’t important as he becomes drier and drier. He is Sandy’s first “sea critter” visitor. Meanwhile, Patrick’s outside the dome looking in, reminding Spongebob to “pinkie out”.

As Sandy retrieves the baking cookies, Spongebob stares at the ice cold vase of water on the picnic table. He doesn’t need it! Water is for quitters!

SIX

HE NEEDS IT!

SEVEN

Spongebob makes the decision to guzzle the water, quitter or no.

EIGHT

Patrick comes in to chastise him and immediately wilts and coughs from the lack of water. 

“Air is not good, Patrick.” It’s a beautiful line, instantly memorable. I kinda, sorta wish Spongebob would’ve said it at the Six, with that satisfying mirror moment, but the air acceptance/rejection motif is good enough.

When Sandy returns with the tea she’s shocked. Cut to an insert of a yellow dry sponge and a plastic starfish on the ground. Another first — the live-object photo insert — is so wonderful.

NINE

Sandy fills fish bowl helmets on Spongebob’s and Patrick’s heads with water. Tea bags go in the water, and pinkies go out.