Dear BaE Volume 21: Bedge
Welcome to our little advice column! You really can ask us (almost) anything, but please note: Dear BaE is written by two people who wish to remain anonymous, for entertainment purposes only. Neither Bono nor Edge are involved in any way except as they exist in our tiny little brains. No Bonos or Edges were harmed during the creation of this column. Enjoy!
Dear Fake Bono & Fake Edge,
I was wondering about the stand-in for Real Larry—will there be some sort of initiation rite required of him?
Julie
Fake Bono: What? WHAT? A stand-in for Larry? Edge, what is Julie on about?
Fake Edge: Calm down, B. Don’t you remember? Our upcoming sojourn in the desert?
Fake Bono: Oh right, the Vegas residency.
Fake Edge: Yes, at the MSG Sphere! The only entertainment venue for which sound is the main priority! The dazzling orb of volume and amplitude! The gleaming curvilinear oasis of aural reverberation!
Fake Bono: Are you crying?
Fake Edge: No.
Fake Bono: Anyway, I believe Julie was asking us if we will require some sort of initiation rite for Bam-Bam.
Fake Edge: Folks, Bono is referring to Bram Van Den Berg, who will be our drummer in Vegas whilst Larry pursues his part-time gig of having his picture taken next to the owners of exclusive New York restaurants.
Fake Bono: Now now, Edge. Larry is coping with the effects of a number of drumming-related injuries, but that shouldn’t prevent him from hitting up every immersive dessert experience between Chelsea and Tribeca.
Fake Edge: Of course not. All the chocolate fountains for Larry. So, should we subject Bram to some kind of initiation ritual? Should we jump him into the gang somehow?
Fake Bono: Yes. What if we have him read Mean Tweets from Larry Stans? He could do this on stage during our inevitable intermission. I’ve found a couple and they are quite something:
Fake Bono: There are loads more, but these are the two examples I grabbed. What do you think, Edge?
Fake Edge: I think we’re going to need more security on this tour.
Dear Fake Bono and Fake Edge,
When can we expect a new album and what direction will it take?
Graham
And will Fake Larry be involved?
Steve
Fake Bono: How about…2030-ish, “bro-country,” and even though Fake Larry will not drum, he’s offered to send us the album’s lyrics at the rate of one line per day via collect calls from the Department of Corrections in Texarkana, Arkansas.
Fake Edge: Well, it looks like the cat’s out of the bag.
Fake Bono: I’m sick of the lies, Edge. Yes, fans, Fake Larry is facing five-to-ten years in the big house for public urination and road rage. You do not want details. So, best case scenario: new album in 2028. Worst case: 2033. While it’s cheering to imagine he might be granted an early release for good behavior—
Fake Edge: I’m not holding my breath.
Fake Bono: No.
Dear Fake Bono and Fake Edge,
I’ve never met either of real-you in person, but if I ever do, I’d want you to remember me. Any tips on how to make our encounter memorable compared to the masses of fans you’ve met?
U2 Fan Polls
Fake Bono: Hi again, Poll Fanders! I’m going to be brief, but this is very important, so print it out and keep it somewhere safe. First of all, please accept the fact that I’m probably not going to remember you unless you’re a fully vetted VIP Superfan who can make it to at least 25 shows per tour and who has been on stage or at least touching rail at no fewer than 20 of those shows.
Now, here’s my advice for the rest of you, and please note that it applies to the entire band: While it may be your nature to be polite and respectful, and to honor the bodily integrity of strangers by not grabbing, pawing, or slobbering on them—feck that. Being nice will get you NOWHERE. You want a handshake? Better stick your hand out really far, right in our faces. It helps to be big and imposing, and to have long arms, and to not be shy about batting smaller people out of your way like a cat knocking figurines off a shelf. Don’t be afraid to shout our names multiple times, as loudly as possible. An interesting accent is a plus. And do we want to sign your dusty old records and magazines? You bet we do! Dangle those things right over the faces of the shorter people in front of you, and we’ll be friends for life. Finally, we already know how important our music is to you so you can skip that part.
Fake Edge: Bono.
Fake Bono: PJ wrote this for me.
Fake Edge: I thought so.
Dear Fake Bono and Fake Edge,
What are your thoughts on all the Bedge smut that gets written on AO3 and elsewhere?
Chloe
Fake Edge: Let’s think about this. We are fake versions of Real Bono and Real Edge.
Fake Bono: Yes.
Fake Edge: If you and I are allowed to exist, surely other fictional versions of us exist, including versions who are in love with each other.
Fake Bono: Edge, if you’re going to start talking about the multiverse again, I’m done. Because the multiverse is bullshit—wait. Is someone screaming out there?
Fake Edge: I believe we’re hearing our Achtoon overlords. But those sound like happy screams, right?
Fake Bono: Happy is not quite the right word—
*
Bedge Bono: Hello.
Fake Bono: What? Who—you’re me? How did you…?
Bedge Bono: We magically appear to people who want to see us.
Bedge Edge: It’s that simple.
Fake Edge: (Readers, if I may paint a word picture, we’ve been joined by our younger selves circa 1992, and they’re in full ZooTV regalia. Except they look better than we ever did, and somehow they’re sparkling…?)
Fake Bono: You’re so idealized and shiny.
Bedge Bono: Thank you. You’re…very old?
Bedge Edge: We are the fan fiction version of Real Bono and Real Edge.
Bedge Bono: We’re whatever age our writers want us to be. ZooTV is our default setting.
Bedge Edge: And who are you?
Fake Edge: Fake Bono and I write an occasional column for an extremely niche U2 fansite.
Bedge Bono: That…seems fun?
Fake Bono: Well, what do you do?
Bedge Bono: Heh.
Bedge Edge: Our lives mirror those of Real Bono and Real Edge, but it’s mainly just the fun parts. We live a life of ease.
Bedge Bono: We exist in luxury hotels and mansions. Oh, and yachts!
Fake Edge: But you’re also in a band called U2, and you record albums and go on tours, right?
Fake Bono: Whilst saving the world?
Bedge Edge: That’s more or less implied. Our creators find those topics tedious to write about. As a result, our new music arrives quickly and easily—often within the space of a single paragraph—thanks to our collective brilliance. And we rarely have to perform it, but when we do it’s the most transcendent show of all time, every time.
Bedge Bono: We get to smoke, eat, and drink whatever we want without physical consequences.
Fake Bono: [mutters] Fuck. You.
Bedge Edge: Oh, you wish.
Fake Edge: There’s got to be a catch.
Bedge Edge: The catch is this. We have to be in love with each other, and we have to experience better sex than any couple has ever had since the beginning of time.
Bedge Bono: Have to? Get to.
Bedge Edge: Occasionally our writers attempt to throw in some drama involving our wives, for example.
Bedge Bono: But our wives usually don’t care. Sometimes they even encourage this. Our writers’ attempts at angst result in us handsomely brooding over each other during the odd sleepless night. But that doesn’t matter.
Bedge Edge: We always get a happy ending.
Bedge Bono: I’ll say.
Bedge Edge: We never have morning breath, we’re never sick, and we’re fastidiously groomed but positively dripping with pheromones and oxytocin.
Fake Edge: That explains the sparkle.
Bedge Edge: And just look at him. Falling in love with him is easy.
Fake Bono: His eyes are somehow bluer than mine.
Bedge Bono: They are in fact bluer than any other substance in the known universe.
Bedge Edge: I’ve tried to pin them down, but they’re just…indescribably blue.
Bedge Bono: You otherworldly genius.
Fake Bono: [coughs]
Bedge Edge: Needless to say, we’re always ready for anything.
Bedge Bono: Everything.
Bedge Edge: Baby.
Bedge Bono: Beautiful Edge.
Fake Edge: [clears throat]
Bedge Bono: We really should be going. It was lovely meeting you. Fake Edge, you’re so distinguished. Professorial, even. [smolders]
Bedge Edge: Fake Bono, I’ll see you in your dreams, sweetheart.
Fake Bono: …What? They’re gone.
Fake Edge: Wow.
Fake Bono: I’ve got to admit it: those two make us seem cooler than we actually are, Real Bono and Real Edge included.
Fake Edge: You’re right.
Fake Bono: So to answer Chloe’s question, what are your thoughts?
Fake Edge: I think we should be pleased to be 61 and 63 years old and somehow inspire people to present us in such a way. Chloe, that is what Fake Us think about Fan Fiction Us. What Real Us think about all of this is, of course, anyone’s guess.
Fake Bono: I need a drink. Happy Pride, y’all!
Fake Bono (again): And that’s it for now, U2 fans — you miraculous Target display of Skittles, M&Ms and Smarties! As yer person Rabbi Lili Solochek said, “May the holy one instill in us the wisdom to know our liberations are entwined together.” We love you!
Do you have a burning question for Fake Bono and Fake Edge? Follow them on Twitter (@DearBAEatu2) and ask! They are capable of answering questions about U2, questions that are related to U2, and questions that have nothing to do with U2 at all.
Note: Fake Bono and Fake Edge are not real. They are two people pretending to be them. They cannot put you in touch with U2. They cannot help you with your music career, and they have no plans to come to Brazil anytime soon.
* The Shiny Bedge image was created from a photo by Wilfredo Lee of the Associated Press (U2 in Miami, March 1992). The photo was cropped, enhanced using Remini, enhanced some more and given a glitter filter via Instagram, then enhanced even more using the iOS photo app. And the work, it was fun.