The weirdness didn't stop after Dali had beaten his brother's longevity, either. Throughout his entire childhood, they maintained that he was the reincarnation of their dead child, and didn't hold back when it came to telling him that. Now, we're not psychologists, but we're reasonably confident that's the kind of thing that irreparably damages a person for life. Nobody likes being told they are their ghost brother. As if to prove our point, Dali once painted a portrait of his dead brother in his hypothetical adult form. Of course, his brother's face was made of cherries floating over some dystopian hellscape, because this is still Dali we're talking about.
Also, did you spot the hidden penis?
When asked about the painting, Dali said "Every day, I kill the image of my brother ... I assassinate him regularly, for the 'Divine Dali' cannot have anything in common with this former terrestrial being." That's artist speak for "I'm not my goddamn dead brother."
Dali occasionally admitted that his eccentric work and behavior was all a desperate effort to assert himself as a unique individual who existed in his own right, rather than as a replacement for someone else. In one of his writings, he said, "All the eccentricities that I commit, I do because I wish to prove to myself that I am not the dead brother, but the living one."
Man, it'd be nice if we could find one lighthearted eccentric who didn't owe their quirky personality to child abuse.