Emperor Norton

The self-proclaimed “His Imperial Majesty Emperor Norton I, Protector of Mexico” was born around 1819 in England. While many thought he was a homeless nutcase, Norton was actually celebrated and revered by many of San Francisco’s citizens over a twenty-one-year period.

He issued a decree to formally dissolve the United States Congress, and later summoned the U.S. Armed Forces “to proceed with a suitable force and clear the Halls of Congress.” Years later, he tried to abolish the Democratic and Republican Parties, and declared that anyone who uttered the word “Frisco” would be guilty of a High Misdemeanor and pay a $25 fine.

The Emperor spent most of his time walking around town dressed in full regalia and sword, inspecting cable cars and making sure the community’s affairs were in order. He gained such notoriety and influence that he issued his own currency, which was accepted as legal tender by local businesses. After Norton’s death in 1880, a reported 10,000 people turned up at his funeral.

Jello Biafra

Jello Biafra, born Eric Boucher in Boulder, Colorado, is best known as the lead singer of San Francisco’s volatile punk pioneers, The Dead Kennedys. Singing into a microphone to make people upset wasn’t enough for him, so he made a serious bid for Mayor of San Francisco in 1979.

His platform included an asymmetrical mix of items, ranging from the comical (requiring businessmen to wear clownsuits during business hours, erecting statues of Dan White—who’d assassinated the mayor in 1978—all over the city) to serious proposals to improve the community (banning cars from the city limits and advocating public transportation, legalizing squatting in vacant buildings, requiring the public election of police officers). On one occasion, he showed up at Diane Feinstein’s house with a leaf blower to “clean up the city,” and was even bold enough to wear a pirate suit in his publicity photo.

Biafra finished fourth, and in the end, had this to say: “For those of them who have seen my candidacy as
a publicity stunt or a joke, they should keep in mind that it is no more of a joke, and no less of a joke, than anyone else they care to name.”

Steve Rocco

On November 2, 2004, a mysterious character won a place on the Orange Unified School District Board of Trustees. He rarely leaves his house and refuses interviews. He will not allow himself to be fingerprinted for district records. He shows up at meetings in a costume consisting of either black or camouflage clothing, a knit cap, and sunglasses. He has self-published his own book of conspiracy theories, and has made speeches regarding something called, “The Partnership,” a secretive entity that is trying to assassinate him. As of April 2008, The Board has gone so far as to vote to silence the presentation of his theories at meetings. And some even believe Rocco is none other than comedian Andy Kaufman.

Nearly half a century later, the ever-expanding phenomenon of self-created, self-publicized “expertainers” contains a paradoxical niche profession known as Motivational Speakers—people who are mostly successful at selling books and giving lectures about success. A sort of meta-success.

Let’s take a look at a few examples:

Suze Orman

Suze Orman, Financial Guru with her own show (The Suze Orman Show) on CNBC, was not always a brilliant financial advisor. She started out as a waitress, serving up pastries, cakes, cookies, brownies at the Buttercup Bakery in Berkeley, California. At age 29, she received a business loan of $50,000 to open her own restaurant, and she decided to invest the money in the stock market. Within 4 months, she lost the money to a swindling stock broker at Merrill Lynch. (No problem: to pay back the loan, she, herself, became a stockbroker at Merrill Lynch, and eventually the vice-president of Prudential Bache Securities.) In her 28 years since leaving the bakery, she has gone on to earn $32 million by authoring seven pop-culture financial advice books and hanging out with Oprah all the time. Still no restaurant of her own, though.

Tony Robbins

At age 18, having already read over 700 motivational books, Tony Robbins was, “alone, overweight, broke and sad in a bachelor apartment in Venice, California,” but “within one year he turned his whole life around.” He became known as, “the 19 year old kid that became a millionaire in less than one year by transforming his whole life.” Of course, that mysterious million dollars earned in one year is $2,739 a day, and you certainly can’t make that much selling BluBlockers on Venice Beach.

So how did he do it? The man with the malfunctioning pituitary gland (who was thrown out of his parents’ house at age 17 for being “too intense”) allegedly discovered he had a mutant power for selling tickets to Jim Rohn seminars. 30 years later, everyone’s favorite Neuro-Linguistic Programmer and Fire-walker is selling front row tickets to his very own “Unleash The Power Within” performances for a mere $2595.

Dr. Phil

In Germany and Scandinavia, a “Dr. Phil” is the name of a doctoral degree. In the US however, Dr. Phil signifies something completely different; it’s the celebrity moniker for Phillip Calvin McGraw. Another TV personality who hangs out with Oprah a lot, he met her when his own company, Courtroom Services, Inc., was hired to prepare her for a 3-year lawsuit called the Amarillo Texas Beef Trial. Oprah was so impressed with his work that she invited him to appear on her show regularly as a “Relationship and Life Strategy Expert.” 13 books (and an appearance on The Simpsons) later, Dr. Phil’s entertainment career is as strategic as ever. Not bad for a guy who isn’t even a licensed psychologist!

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There are numerous other examples of these meta-successful beings: Born Eben W. Pagan, “Double Your Dating” creator David DeAngelo claims to have been a rock guitarist in a former life (but no evidence of this can be found, unfortunately). Deepak Chopra won the 1998 Ig Nobel Prize in physics for “his unique interpretation of quantum physics as it applies to life, liberty, and the pursuit of economic happiness.” Zig Ziglar’s real first name is Hilary. And of course, Matt Foley never actually existed outside of the set of Saturday Night Live.

Un-credilble pasts aside, these expertainers have all proven in their own ways that success actually works.

Carl King is an occasional contributor to mentalfloss.com.