When the world gets confusing, ‘Wrixling’ gets confusinginger

What exactly is Wrixling? The creators call it “a new form of one-on-one,
online Participatory-Psychic-Scrambling,” designed to free us from the words that hold us back. Wrixling takes place at home, where you, the participant, can receive a one-on-one session with a Director of Behavior (or “DirB”) via webcam. Wrixling is kind of like therapy, except that it’s nothing like therapy at all. And what are the health benefits of Wrixling? They’re unimaginable — unimaginable, as in no one can imagine the benefits because no one has any idea what they might be.

But anybody can make these infomercial-like promises, right? What I wanted to know was: did Wrixling really work?

To find out, I researched the six available experts and found DirB Wentt. DirB Wentt specializes in Dispertic Wrixling and Para-Neural Wrixlotics. A leading practitioner in the field of Child-Centered Developmental Wrixling, she will, in 2018, hold the Rocky and Ludmilla Stallionteaser Chair of the California Commission for Behavior at Stanfordt University College, San Melodia. So, as far I could tell, DirB Wentt was an expert at the top of her field and the perfect person to speak to.

I scheduled a session a few days ahead of time and eagerly waited at home at the appointed time to meet DirB Wentt for the first time (desktop/laptop computer required; I recommend connecting via Firefox).

What I experienced next was …confusing.

I connected my browser, and DirB Wentt was already waiting. She was dressed demurely and appeared to be sitting under a red lamp in a bedroom. I was ready to begin; I was prepared to wrixle.

I was asked to answer a rapid-fire series of questions as she took copious notes.

“What words really grate you or unravel you?” she asked.

“Honestly, I have a hard time picking the right pronunciation when speaking about bass (the fish) and bass (the musical instrument),” I replied.

“Whose name is on the tip of your tongue?”

I gave the names of some friends, my husband, and my dog.

“What words really spur you on? Energize you?”

“Um… ‘refreshing’?” I had a hard time answering this one.

“I hope I’m doing OK,” I said.

DirB Wentt smiled, gently.

“Based upon your answers, I’d like to wrixle in our first egglugient.”

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What? I tried not to raise an eyebrow.

DirB Wentt continued.

“Take for example: a cozlegrain. I’m sure you’re familiar with the concept of ‘cozlegrain,’ are you not? A sort of movement and state of being.”

She explained the concept of cozlegrain to me, but I didn’t quite grasp it. Something about cozle representing a woman’s materialism and desire and the grain being the doctor who bursts in wearing a lab coat, but he wasn’t even the doctor she was supposed to be seeing in the first place.

Cozlegrain started as an underground movement but has now become mainstream and is everywhere.

“Now that I’ve wrixled this word for you, where do you want to put your cozlegrain? Which part of your body?”

There was a pause.

I pretend to understand.

“Decide where you’d like to keep it and let me know.”

“Uh… my left knee,” I answer, bewildered.

What followed next was known as a character wrixle: a collaborative role-playing game where DirB Wentt and I played out multiple scenes incorporating people from my everyday life. I played myself. DirB Wentt played my super, my husband, my husband’s boss, a doctor, and even some other characters. At one point she even demanded that I get up from the computer to open the door to “let my super inside” during a scene. (I half expected him to be standing outside waiting; fortunately, he was not at my doorstep.)

I start to possibly, maybe half-believe this narrated videoconference fever dream about a shadowy conspiracy which only I have the power to take down.

And then like that, my time was up.

So does Wrixling work? My results were inconclusive. Was Wrixling therapeutic? I think so, but I really couldn’t tell either way. Was the experience seethrish? Yes. Was I surprised at the dobbleshurt? Definitely. While my single Wrixling session never quite reached the comedic heights I believe it might be capable of, what I did find was entertaining: a surreal, 25-minute performance art romp through the English language. My time with DirB Wentt was full of unexpected moments of fulcasedrew, the way that gender is always knocking at the door of technology’s footsteps or how foam circuitry ends in a dark abyss (typically but not always).

And with a few more sessions with a DirB, maybe even I could become better at shaking hands with the words that hover around me. And that can only be a good thing.

Wrixling continues online; sessions are $25.

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