I went back and read the first few posts at TOOP and I had to laugh. The posturing and the posing by various people is a sight to behold. This all happened at the beginning of July and now it is the end of September. Various people who were behind he concept be they commenters or contributors are in the wind. I have a very good bullshit detector and let me say that most of them didn't fool me. They might have fooled some of the people but you should be able to realize by know who is a worthless loser.
I think Lem has found his feet and is doing good work. Chickie, Little Debbie and Chip Ahoy have been consistently good. I go there every day to see what's new. To me that is the sign of a good blog.
I hope we can give them some support with our comments.
118 comments:
Hey, I want to know who gets the "worthless loser" treatment. I'm the President of the fucking thing, I ought to be given a list of the damned members. No one ever tells me a thing!
Freeman Hunt and Paddy O suck Althouse's sweaty balls.
Well, those bitches don't pay their dues and they don't go to the meetings, so they're OUT of the worthless loser club. And that's final!
On point, I don't see any reason to say "Poor Lem."
He and his primary contributors are doing good work. It's an interesting blog and the comments have been known to hop from time to time. It's good stuff and I've told him so. I need to let the others know, as well.
Well when I went back to read some of the old comments I noticed things that I didn't notice at the time.
Both good and very very bad.
Top is a wasteland.
Sort of like Mad Max or something.
Or maybe Waterworld with Lawnboy instead of Mailboy.
On point, I don't see any reason to say "Poor Lem."
I recall a flap about money early on, as well as a "generous donor" meme, as if Lem didn't have the means to make it on his own.
What did you notice, Troopski?
I noticed how many people came and went. Not in a filthy Titus way, as he could never tell if he was coming or going, but rather in a "Hey, I remember that commenter - wonder whatever happened to him or her" kind of way.
There used to be some interesting discussions over there, long ago. In the olden days, before Althouse came out as a comsymp.
There's a few reasons I haven't posted anything at Lem's place in a while.
I've been dealing with a serious return of my depression lately. I haven't been able to get my medication and missing it was a big mistake. Just getting by in the most basic way has been a colossal struggle since February, and every time I feel like I am making some progress pulling my sorry ass out of the hole, things slip again. If you've ever had to deal with real depression, coupled with actual, serious life problems, you know just how hopeless and awful things can get. I sometimes feel like some vital life energy has drained out of me and it makes it very hard to do anything, especially write and interact with people.
I thought things were looking up a bit, since my teaching job was starting up again in NYC, but after spending most of August searching for a place back in the city I came up empty. I just couldn't find anything, or any roommate situation, that I could afford. So the spiral started again, I missed my meds, and I ended up having to take medical leave for the fall semester.
I feel like when I comment or write something, it always ends up being about, or infused with, my problems, and I think people are tired of hearing about it. A lot of the people who helped me out during that Laurence Meade incident are still around here and at Lem's and when I write I just feel like I'm reminding people who went out of their way to help me what a disappointment I am.
I know this is probably irrational, but in the grip of this psychological crap, it's hard to stop thinking this way. I also have this constant sense that disgusting people like "Inga" and "Titus" and Laurence Meade are out there, reading my posts or comments and plotting to fuck with me in some way, and I just couldn't handle that again.
Trooper's comment section seems to have a no-nonsense, no "homo" attitude towards whining, so this comment is probably out of place. But since this is a gated community, I feel safer opening up about what's been happening to me, and why I've been scarce from Lem's place.
When that horrible woman kicked her commenters out, I really felt like we could start something really good at Lems, and it seemed that a lot of commenters were going along for the ride. But it turned out that a lot of them just fell away, and even went back to that woman's blog like nothing had happened. A lot of the promise and energy evaporated.
The few commenters who remain are great, and some of my favorite people. But the absence of others is telling.
Anyway, I just wanted to explain what's happened to me, and why I've been scarce at Lem's place.
Hang in there, dude. Without going into too much detail, I suffered some serious life losses, access to my children, my house, my money, my wife and my job, all in one month, and then, when I had no insurance, had some very serious and expensive medical issues. That led to even some serious depression.
That was 20 years ago, and after even more losses, more medical issues, including having to get heart surgery with no insurance, somehow I made it through and became the fucking laugh riot that I currently am.
I haven't been depressed in years, partially because I have things to do, partially because I am still here, and somehow, after being on a heart-lung bypass machine for however long I lost the ability to become depressed. I don't recommend that as an anti-depression strategy, but it worked for me.
I also have to take a fairly new antibiotic for my gut issues and I think that gut flora play a large role in one's brain chemistry. Or at least, that's what I read.
In any case, this little story is meant to be a case study in how, if one endures, one can overcome bullshit. Keep reading, keep learning, keep working, stuff sorts itself out.
And post over at Lem's - vent, get it out of your system. Fuck 'em if they don't like it.
One more thing - I told you not to publish that picture of me, Troopski - that's why I gave up drinking wine, right there!
I feel like when I comment or write something, it always ends up being about, or infused with, my problems, and I think people are tired of hearing about it. A lot of the people who helped me out during that Laurence Meade incident are still around here and at Lem's and when I write I just feel like I'm reminding people who went out of their way to help me what a disappointment I am.
Fuck 'em if they can't take a joke. Or a tragedy. Besides, it's a BLOG. If people don't like what they're reading they'll skip to the next post.
Besides, stick some art on the post and let TT go off on a musical tangent and it'll count as good stuff.
Hey I don't have a no homo policy. But I treat homos the same as everybody else. Badly.
And you are gonna like it bitch.
I think you are just mistaken about how people take your posts. There is not an ounce of maudlin self pity. They are about art and food and the good things of life.
Well except for that last post where you posted a photo of Inger's underpants.
I know you homo's like weird shit but that was over the top buddy.
Hey Sixty. Look more misspellings.
I mean Inga of course.
Her whole life is a big fucking typo.
Yeah, I said I would not mention typos, but I was trying to be witty over at TOOP. Chip Ahoy can take it, I hope. You'll notice I let Leland's semi-literate comment go without so much as a "AYFKM?" remark.
I like that work. But now you have ruined it for me. Thanks for nothing, Troopski.
Here is a very interesting comment thread at Lem's place.
It is very interesting to see what people have to say about it and how they are acting now.
I just can't abide sanctimonious hypocrites.
I'm curious which commenters you think are being sanctimonious hypocrites in that thread. I tried to read it but I kept seeing the red bird so I had to stop.
Thanks Sixty
The one that got jealous that I was praising Chip Ahoy and said she just wanted to talk to the people who posted there.
You know Meade's handmaiden. So to speak.
It just makes me laugh.
You are welcome, Palladian - hang in there - as they say, that which does not kill us makes us stronger.
I can bench press a fucking Buick now.
You see. It's the nasty racist homophobes like me and Sixty that have your back dude.
We won't touch your back because it is probably covered in splooge but we have it none the less.
I'm not a racist.
But I am racy!
Trooper York: Well when I went back to read some of the old comments I noticed things that I didn't notice at the time.
Both good and very very bad.
I think he means stuff like this, but I could be wrong.
That is the most stupid, most wrong "thought" I have ever read on the internet, r-tard. It's really hard to believe that ANYONE could be that fucking stupid! I hope that a crawler runs over your begonias. Joe Schmoe indeed!
That's comedy gold right there!
I really need to just recycle that. It would cover about half my comments. Let's see, I'll make that the f6 key....
Trooper York said...
Top is a wasteland.
Sort of like Mad Max or something.
Or maybe Waterworld with Lawnboy instead of Mailboy.
Didn't I tell you that when she opened up comments again she would never see a 50+ or 100+ comment thread again? Go take a look since then. Wasteland doesn't even sum up that idea. She's finished and hopefully the sooner the better and her little gardener can go with her.
It is pretty funny. What comments there are there are just lame shit. Without interaction it's boring pedantic bullshit.
Which some of her audience likes after all.
Trooper York said...
It is pretty funny. What comments there are there are just lame shit. Without interaction it's boring pedantic bullshit.
Which some of her audience likes after all.
Well, I guess she got her cruelly neutral new civility. Go her or something.
Watch, how soon do you think she's going to go on a medical leave sabbatical at the tax payers expense. Watch. She's breaking down, her alcohol fueled musings are falling flat. You can only ride Bob Dylan posts for so long.
I had to laugh when she had to mention me and Palladian in one of her posts on Sunday. It staggers you how stupid that is. The hundreds of posts to pick from and that's the one she wants to highlight.
It is very amusing.
Dammit! While I'm slowly but intently working through a response, Icepick cracks the block with his "stick some art on the post...and it'll count as good stuff" and Trooper drops whatever he likes to drop with his distorted images, and I'm left with a half written serious comment. Do I hit delete? No! Because I've got something I want to say, regardless of how well or awful others before me have said the same, going back to Sixty's:
And post over at Lem's
Yes! I experienced The Latest In Blood And Guts And In Living Color, posted Sep 14 as a powerful post. Without words, other than the title, it was strong and expressive enough to generate a good discussion with dynamic interaction. One that evoked banter along with real and deeper connections. Plus, it prompted me to look up and learn something about Soulages.
What the cow said over there about it is true, "And there are not necessarily words for it, the art speaks for itself.
Palladian, One of the many good qualities here is people are honest, intellectually and personally. If someone thinks you're being a mope, they'll say it. We all need to have a pity party @ times. You certainly have good cause. I enjoy your posts and comments. When I think you're sulking, I'll say it.
"He not busy being born is busy dying."
Bob Dylan
Apropos of nothing, I just thought I'd toss that into the gumbo.
Sixty, You keep your cards breasted. To talk about personal pain is not easy for you. But, you did it to show your empathy. That is very impressive,
Trooper, I read that thread again. It seems like 4-5 months ago when it was really less than 2. I will keep going over there but it's been quite stale of late.
I really like that painting, and as you know, I hate everything.
My son is an extremely talented painter and I don't have any of his stuff hanging in my house.
I had all the interior walls repaired and painted and since then I have only hung one painting - one that I painted back in December 1968.
So I am a philistine. A philistine who has traveled all over the world looking at art.
And from the perspective of a colorblind guy who has spent years in museums, that is a very good painting, Palladian.
ndspinelli, thanks. It's actually hard for me to gauge emotions, or at least how I come across to people. I learned early to mimic how other people displayed their emotions but sometimes that doesn't work very well.
That means a lot to me, Sixty, as you're one of the meanest commenters out there.
Are you really colorblind? Color perception always fascinated me, especially as a painter. There's something eternally, metaphysically frustrating about the fact that we can never really know how anyone else perceives color.
MamaM, thank you. That post meant a lot to me, as it and the painting really summed up how I felt and am feeling without actually writing anything.
Even though I like to write, I think my visual nature asserts its primacy much of the time. A picture expresses the ineffable better for me.
I was really afraid that post would be seen as self-serving or advertising. Not that I'd be against selling anything, but that wasn't the point.
Plus, it prompted me to look up and learn something about Soulages.
That was great that ricpic brought him up. I had really forgotten about him, and how much I liked him when I was a teenager. I was also amazed to find out that he is still alive.
It's still funny to me that no one questioned the origin of the title of that drawing, The Latest In Blood And Guts And In Living Color...
I figured some of the Wayans were involved.
And thanks for the "one of the meanest commenters out there" - that means a lot to me.
What it means is that the character I play on the internet is convincing. I am really a big pussycat. Or something. Never mind...
I would've never known about Palladian's depression from his posts over at TOOP. They've been consistently interesting. I guess interesting doesn't sound like much to most but for me it's a pretty high bar to clear.
P.S. If it's a mark of depression that a person is not up to being around or talking to others...I'm depressed.
I am red/green colorblind, which means I miss a lot of what people take for granted. Like whether to go or stop at intersections. You know, trivial stuff.
I told Methadras over at TOOP that he better get that parakeet back on his head, and fast! Did he listen to me?.....
It's true Sixty is no pussycat, in fact he bears a striking relation to that dude they use in the moon pitchers whenever they want the archetypal southern look, you know, the black Irishman with the left eye looking far left and the right eye semi-far right (or is it t'other way round?). But then ALL black Irishman are terrifying. And not only in the dark. Right, Troop? Course I'm right.
ricpic, you mean this guy?
There's no escaping unhappiness
But you can fool it now and then --
Not by gutter ball sappiness,
By converting a seven-ten.
Yes! That's the exact guy. What's his name?
I can see how one might confuse Trooper and me at first glance, but in real life we look quite different.
But I do like that hat.
ricpic said...
I told Methadras over at TOOP that he better get that parakeet back on his head, and fast! Did he listen to me?.....
But I love batboy. Come on.
ricpic, it's Jack Elam.
I recall "Living Color," but I draw a blank on "Blood and Guts" as anything specific.
Hang in there, Palladian. Serious depression is a horrible thing. After our second child was born, my wife came down with severe postpartum depression. I had no idea what was going on, but I quickly learned. I'll spare you all the details, but those who don't have it should realize that real depression is not just a case of the blues or feeling low or rotten for some reason or other. It is the most corrosive thing you can imagine, and, frankly, most people who haven't experienced it or been close to it, CAN'T imagine. My wife was on meds for a couple of years, but finally went off cold turkey. I couldn't believe it, but she's managed reasonably well since.
Thank God she had a good corporate job at the time and was able to take a decent medical leave. When she was finally able to go back to work, her job had evaporated, along with every other such job in publishing. Welcome to the death of in-house editorial work.
All that had nothing to do with her depression, per se. The depression set in while she was in fact riding high in her career. The bottom fell out for her and people like her while she was on leave. Oddly enough, it didn't matter to her that much. Depression may be triggered by stress, but it does not seem to have a one-to-one relationship with challenges or setbacks. My wife coped with the loss of her career and other troubles better than she did with having achieved her life's goals. "What's the problem?" I wondered. "Things are great!"
Well, they weren't. Depression has its own logic and is a genuine disease that cannot simply be "talked out" of its sufferers. "Melancholia," as it used to be called, has been known and described for centuries. I recall reading ads in 18th century newspapers (Sir Archy's fodder) for homes and asylums for "Melancholy Persons," promising the best care, thoughtful Attendants, &c. These were not Madhouses for Lunaticks, but places of refuge for those afflicted with Melancholia. The 18th and previous centuries understood this as part of the human condition. I just hope today everyone realizes the truth of that, and can approach those who find themselves in this miserable situation with some compassion and consideration.
Anyway, that's my sermonette. Sorry for the preachy sincerity.
I highly recommend that Sir Archy watch the new ABC show "Once Upon a Time in Wonderland."
It seems Alice comes back and is put in an insane asylum by he Da and is seriously contemplating a lobotomy before she is rescued and taken back to Neverland.
It looks pretty good.
William Styron wrote a book about his own "bout" with depression, Darkness Visible, that was praised to the skies when it came out. I wouldn't know whether the book was all it was cracked up to be because I didn't read it. I find Styron unreadable. Same with Mailer. Something wrong comes through in both writers' work. Anyway, to finally get to my point, I did find a comment about Styron's depression that I read in some literary blog fascinating and, I think, true: a commenter on the blog said that Styron wasn't a genuine depressive. Why? Because what Styron wrote about was more in line with an episode, an aberration in an otherwise productive life. The commenter, who described himself as a depressive, said that the true mark of the condition is that it is lifelong. Yes, there are periods of remission but a true depressive, well, for him being depressed is the norm, not "a bout."
Isn't Rule 1 "No one fucking quotes fucking Bon Dylan"?
LOL @ Haz - and thanks for noticing.
Hang in, Palladian.
I have nothing to say about Lem's.
Well. I have much to say. Hmmm.
There is nothing I will say about Lem's.
Yes, that's better.
Sixty, ya softy.
Certainly one of the earliest, and from a literary and cultural point-of-view, the best book on the subject is Robert Burton's The Anatomy of Melancholy (1621). I am currently slogging through it on my Kindle (which is not good for reading such books, although I love it otherwise). Burton's description or definition of Melancholy remains, after all these centuries, simply amazing:
"Melancholy, the subject of our present discourse, is either in disposition or in habit. In disposition, is that transitory Melancholy which goes and comes upon every small occasion of sorrow, need, sickness, trouble, fear, grief, passion, or perturbation of the mind, any manner of care, discontent, or thought, which causes anguish, dulness, heaviness and vexation of spirit, any ways opposite to pleasure, mirth, joy, delight, causing forwardness in us, or a dislike. In which equivocal and improper sense, we call him melancholy, that is dull, sad, sour, lumpish, ill-disposed, solitary, any way moved, or displeased. And from these melancholy dispositions no man living is free, no Stoick, none so wise, none so happy, none so patient, so generous, so godly, so divine, that can vindicate himself; so well-composed, but more or less, some time or other, he feels the smart of it. Melancholy in this sense is the character of Mortality… This Melancholy of which we are to treat, is a habit, a serious ailment, a settled humour, as Aurelianus and others call it, not errant, but fixed: and as it was long increasing, so, now being (pleasant or painful) grown to a habit, it will hardly be removed."
BTW, the reason I'm having so much trouble with The Anatomy of Melancholy is not so much the "difficult" language, or even the Latin. It's the crappy "editing" you get with things from Project Gutenberg. At least it was free. Amazon wants $1.99 a volume (3 in total) for the same "edition."
I see Amazon has what looks like a much better complete version for $3.99/volume. Is it $12 better? That's always the question with historical books from Amazon.
I say "complete," because Dover has an abridged version for $9.99 or some such on Amazon. I think I may spend the $12, because I can't get anywhere with the freebie.
Tim, there have been several books I've given up and bought after trying to read the free Project Gutenberg edition.
Once in a while there are good versions, but they're rare.
This is typical of crappy e-book editing: The quote above has, "causing forwardness in us, or a dislike."
That should be "frowardness," i.e., "contrariness."
"Forwardness" makes no sense.
Damn you, autocorrect.
Absolutely right, Cody. I've done the same too many times. Grumble.
I think I still have a free copy of The Odyssey on my iPhone somewhere - it was not worth the effort to download - the translation was terrible and whoever translated it didn't seem to understand poetry in Greek or English.
I ended up buying a hard copy of the Robert Fagles translation and thought it was great. He knew what he was doing.
TTBurnett, I read this edition of The Anatomy of Melancholy about 3 years ago after I gave up on the Project Gutenberg edition.
Since we've shifted topic (again)--I'm looking for a good biography of Churchill. I've looked at a few but I don't want to get one where Winny is pushed through the writer's lens.
Ideas?
I got a kick out of:
Churchill Style: The Art of Being Winston Churchill
by Barry Singer
A combination of pictures, lots of them, and text, all about what he favored and acquired in cigars, scotch, automobiles, country houses, food and champagne and clothes, right down to silk pajamas and underwear.
Thanks, Palladian. That is obviously a very good edition. I suppose I should break down and buy it. I've been trying to limit new book purchases to the Kindle, but not everything succeeds on that toy.
My image of melancholia is Dürer's.
I've made some of my own images of melancholy. Of course, in some ways a lot of my work is an image of melancholy.
Here is my vision of melancholy.
If I didn't know the title I would read that image - another winner by the way - as fear. All those big O's.
Hey Troop, give the alimentary canal a rest for a while, it'll be s-o-o-o grateful.
Trooper, that's beyond melancholy.
That melancholy needs some good Eyetalian bread to sop up that sauce. That should ease the pain a bit.
I made a big batch of sauce w/ our cherry tomatoes. I roast the tomatoes and garlic w/ olive oil, salt and pepper. Get those maters a little charred. Then, when cool, process the garlic and tomatoes w/ basil and parmesan. I have lots of maters and basil so I do a lot this time of year and freeze it. I'll be roasting a shitload of red peppers this weekend. Beer is consumed during the roasting.
I agree. I think Lem's blog is a winner. And I read a lot of blogs and Lem & Company kick ass.
Eighty comments? Ho boy, this is gonna be fun.
Do I hit delete?
Only if it's likely to get you thrown in jail or divorced. Other than that, keep all cannon firing at all times, baby!
And see, MamaM, it was a good comment anyway.
That means a lot to me, Sixty, as you're one of the meanest commenters out there.
LOL, that's good stuff! I can't decide if being ONE of the meanest commenters is a compliment or not. Wouldn't he want to be THE meanest?
Melancholy? Isn't that when Lassie ate the honeydew?
He can't. That's me.
And don't you forget it asshole.
But I love batboy. Come on.
batboy scares the fuck out of me (not my preferred method of losing a fuck), and I'm worried my three year-old will chance upon it and be scarred for life.
Batboy used to date Hillary.
It is a known fact.
What Trooper calls melancholy looks more like satisfaction or even contentment to me.
And I have seen no mention that melancholia often comes with more than a dash of rage. But perhaps that is merely me.
Batboy used to date Hillary.
It is a known fact.
That would explain the look of otherworldly horror on Batboy visage.
...
Hi, Ruth Anne. How's life?
Palladian, anyone who goes crawling to ol dirty EBL and Merde is someone you should try to avoid.
Hi, Icepick!
Life's good. We're fixin' to head north tomorrow for a real live gen-u-wine blogger meet-up with another homeschooling family who now resides in Delaware. We're exploring our country's founding or some other ruse to drive and finally see each other in person.
@Ruth Anne: Say hi to rcommal for me.
@Ruth Anne: Say hi to rcommal for me
I must not of gotten enough sleep last night, as I didn't even make the connection.
A sketch of meloncollie:link
That sketch is responsive to RAA's 8:36
I was going to say "Welcome back, E. P." but after clicking on that link I think you need some more time on the mountain.
I was going to say "Welcome back, E. P." but after clicking on that link I think you need some more time on the mountain.
He certainly needs something.
Late to the commenting here since I've been gone for a few days.
Palladian. You do NOT come across as a disappointment to me. I was actually surprised at how young you are since you have a mature voice in your writings. Hang in there. Depression is something that everyone has to some extent and we all handle it in different ways. Without too much detail, the break up of my first marriage was a real blow and I was very depressed, felt worthless, a failure, hopeless.....then....I got MAD and pissed off and decided to hell with him. I AM better than that and would make my life what "I" wanted it to be.
Don't stop posting. We (I) like your posts.
Color perception always fascinated me, especially as a painter. There's something eternally, metaphysically frustrating about the fact that we can never really know how anyone else perceives color.
BTW: my mother (now deceased) and brother are both color blind. I also have pondered just what DOES the world look like to them and how does it affect their attitudes. For example, we would be viewing a scenic vista or sunset and my father and I are enthralled by the colors and beauty. My mom and brother are all ...meh..."it is just trees, can we go now?"
First: Praying for you, Palladian.
That means a lot to me, Sixty, as you're one of the meanest commenters out there.
Seconding Icepick. Oh my God that was funny!
He's just adorbs to me.
Icepick said...
But I love batboy. Come on.
batboy scares the fuck out of me (not my preferred method of losing a fuck), and I'm worried my three year-old will chance upon it and be scarred for life.
Really, you big pussy? Okay, I'll change Bat Boy. *hangs head low and kicks can down the street.
Thanks, Darce - you are a very kind person.
As for color perception - I enjoy what I see, but obviously things look very different to me. Never saw the point in leaf peeping - green, yellow, red - all pretty much the same to me.
Sunsets and sunrises - I always like watching those - but when I ooh and aah over them I am told that they are nothing more than yellow and blue. Hmm - well, I like what I am seeing.
My brother was telling me that it can be corrected - I think he is yanking my chain - like telling me that my green pickup truck is a nice shade of blue - you know how cruel people with color vision can be. Anyway, unless and until a retina transplant is possible I don't think it is possible to correct colorblindness. Such is the burden I bear.
My painter son and I spent a day at the Met and he was able to tell me about the techniques that painters use to create the appearance of contours on a flat canvas. He knows a lot of stuff and I understand what he is saying, I just can't see it.
Really, you big pussy?
Really. And I am what I eat. Just like Michael Douglas.
Red/green. Blue/brown/green. All the same to my mother or shades of the same thing. Pastels? forget it. Flaming orange and bright yellow seemed to be colors that she liked, but what they looked like to her....who knows.
We were in a rather bad car wreck in Bakersfield because we had just moved from Texas where the green/red lights on the street intersections were reversed. She could only tell if the light was was off or on. No one thought to tell her that trivial fact and we went through the intersection on a red light.
Because half of the family was color blind, we ended up with some coping strategies. Being very descriptive about items, shape, size, markings, locations etc rather than describing items by color since what is a blue bowl to me is who knows what to my mom or brother. "Blue" is not a helpful descriptor.
That's it in a nutshell - I almost got hit by a bus while driving in Austin because the lights are tipped sideways there. Also, I think Texas does not use the standard federally mandated wavelengths of light in their traffic signals. I could not tell the red from the green. Caught on pretty fast, though.
A coworker said to me - hand me the green book. Which one is that? The green one! Yeah, I heard you, but which book do you want. THE GREEN ONE! Told him that wasn't helping.
The other day I was walking and encountered a snake - some passersby said "Look out for the green snake". I saw the snake, but in addition to being colorblind, am also deaf, so I heard snake, but not green. Asked the woman I was walking with "What color is that snake?" She looked at me in that sad way that I am sure slow kids get tired of "It's green!"
Oh. I didn't hear, and I couldn't tell.
Yeah, life's tough. Then you get a pulmonary embolism and it puts everything in perspective.
Icepick said...
Really, you big pussy?
Really. And I am what I eat. Just like Michael Douglas.
Okay, you got your wish you giant vagina and I haven't lol'ed at that joke in ages, but then again, I don't plan on getting HPV in my throat anytime soon. :D
"I swear," said the Dustman quickly. "My sister suffered this same swooning paleness. We set her like a potted lily out one spring night with the moon. She lives today in Sussex, the soul of reconstituted health!"
Ruth Anne is visiting the home state of Annie.
"For example, we would be viewing a scenic vista or sunset and my father and I are enthralled by the colors and beauty. My mom and brother are all ...meh..."it is just trees, can we go now?"
A lot of Atheists are color-blind too - but in a different way.
Spinelli,
I'm going to Virginia. I'm meeting someone from Delaware.
Ruth Ann is going to the home state of Patrick Henry!
Have some good Virginia Ham. Virginia is a good state, Delaware sucks, except for their beaches.
I'm nearly never depressed or even melancholy, so it's hard for me to relate. I only have four states: happy, ecstatic, scared, angry.
While on chemo though, it was chemically induced melancholy. While in that distant land, I was very in tune with music, and TV. I would get very attached to certain songs that I heard or played, and also to TV shows. Not even good ones, just that I needed to experience them over and over to kind of make me feel safe and comfortable. It's very internalizing, and you see little beyond yourself and how things affect you. It's not entirely unpleasant, but it is very unproductive. I lost a lot of time, but I remember it fondly. Without the drugs, or a flu, I can't even fake if I want to.
Anyway, don't be shy about posting, Palladian, they're some of the best blog anywhere when you show up. Besides in my completely inexperienced opinion, the best treatment for depression is doing stuff - anything. I bet you are less depressed when you are writing those posts. They are appreciated, and I don't think your fears about what we are thinking are warranted. Besides who gives a fuck - we're all asshole anyway. I mean look around.
Sixty Grit said...
That's it in a nutshell - I almost got hit by a bus while driving in Austin because the lights are tipped sideways there. Also, I think Texas does not use the standard federally mandated wavelengths of light in their traffic signals. I could not tell the red from the green. Caught on pretty fast, though.
A coworker said to me - hand me the green book. Which one is that? The green one! Yeah, I heard you, but which book do you want. THE GREEN ONE! Told him that wasn't helping.
The other day I was walking and encountered a snake - some passersby said "Look out for the green snake". I saw the snake, but in addition to being colorblind, am also deaf, so I heard snake, but not green. Asked the woman I was walking with "What color is that snake?" She looked at me in that sad way that I am sure slow kids get tired of "It's green!"
Oh. I didn't hear, and I couldn't tell.
Yeah, life's tough. Then you get a pulmonary embolism and it puts everything in perspective.
Explaining what color a color is like explaining it to a blind man. fuck it if you are blind.
OMG.
Sorry I haven't followed this thing a little closer.
I should be putting in more effort.
What a terrible coincidence...
I want to joke about it but I don't know how Trooper is doing.
I was thinking the other day... I know this what people say when somebody is sick or dying, but is true... I was thinking of reaching out to arrange a visit to his store.
I hope he recovers soon, so I could do that.
Trooper is barely an hour away from me.
Trooper go sick after making a kind post, trying to help me out. once more.
That's the kind of friend he is.
I hope he gets better soon.
A terrible and a wonderful co-incidence, Lem, as it was your blog "home" that provided the place for others to come to reveal their hearts (in seriousness and humor) and post their prayers, thoughts, and encouragements on Trooper's behalf.
"Sanctuary" is the formal name for a such a safe space/place within community. And when matters of life and death are on the table, it functions as a holy place, regardless of how reverent or irreverent the participants may appear.
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