Wednesday, November 30, 2011

The Beauty of Tumblr Souls

I was just reading the bio of a young person who reblogged my one insect-themed LOL on tumbler...a pink mantis!

And I saw the person's avatar was visually interesting, only partially human.

And here was the bio, which will give you some idea of how much I'm learning about generational differences in self-expression. It's actually fascinating to me.

 Okay, a little about me. I am Acro - 20-year old female, heteroromantic asexual, artist / amateur scientist, violin mantis soul. Majoring in anthropology. I also like to represent myself with something that is essentially an anthropomorphic, okapi-themed lamp, for no reason other than it's fun.

I guess I feel like a scientist, but I also feel connected, since many of the kids seem to share my sensibility of reticence, withdrawal, uncertainty, fear, etc. etc...

But when I get to read great language like that, I love it.

I mean that's not a poseur (poseuse?) That's not "avant-garde."

That's someone who is complexly feeling their way into the world.

Tumblr is addictive.

FACEBOOK has normalizing effects (horrible feeling for me). Twitter wittifies one--or forces one to make the attempt. It snarkies you up. (tolerable when one is in the mood). 

But Tumblr is beautiful and natural and healing in a way that neither of those others could ever really be.

Tumblr is much more about trying to be open to fundamental changes of consciousness.

I mean you see 12 year olds doing queer activism on Tumblr. I kid you not.

If you want to see careers, go to FACEBOOK. If you want to see snark, go to TWITTER. If you want to see the future, go to TUMBLR.

Oh Cheezburger

Oh, Cheezburger gave me a kitteh front page.


I can't LOL right now.

I have a mental block. I don't understand it.

And people left nice comments and I can't sign in and be social right now.
I hope they forgive me.

Most of them know I have "issues" so I think they'll understand.

It's not like they see me on there and I'm ignoring anyone.



Things Aren't Happening

There's the joyful p.r. promo "Things are happening!"

And there's the crazy person's failure to explain what is going on around him or her: "Things are happening!" (They can't articulate what exactly is happening).

Things aren't happening. That can be consoling. Or I suppose it can be depressing.

It's the relationship pre-breakup line too: "Things aren't happening."

Stated like the verbal equivalent of a piece of white bread dropped on the kitchen floor that you feel zero desire to reach down and pick up.

On the plus side, I finally slept. After days of manic driving mind weather and pain in my teeth from grinding them with the tension of being awake so long I guess, and a weird forehead pain that emerged about two days into the mania jag.

I filled the kitteh bowl with as much kibble as it would hold, but all kibble comes to an end and so that was my wake up call, as usual. Cat need.

I guess it was enough sleep.

I was using an OTC drug and I accidentally overdosed on it the other night.

That was the closest I've felt to death since I was in my early twenties and went outside and overshoveled in a blizzard and felt like I had a mini heart-attack or something. I might have had a mini-stroke the other night but I think it was just the results of the overdose.

It was completely accidental. Normally I'm very careful to lay out pills, and then put the bottle away so I won't exceed the dosage. This time I kept the bottle near me by the computer and I think in the disordered manic state completely lost count. And the drugs take quite some time to hit. And I was probably not feeling the results and then redosed. I'm guessing (in retrospect) I redosed twice in excess. And each time several pills. Because I lost all balance and couldn't go downstairs.

I hated drinking tap water but I seriously could not make it downstairs. There was no way I was calling an ambulance because the agoraphobia is really bad right now and I just couldn't face dealing with people and noises and leaving the house and the cold and having no ride home. I knew if I just kept flushing my kidneys out and drinking water it would pass.

But it took hours longer than I expected. I already knew the primary way this drug is cleared from the body is urine so it was just a matter of speeding up the pissing. But every time I had to get out of bed to make the trek to the bathroom and drink more copious amounts of water, I had terror of passing the stairs. I had to reach out my hand like an alpinist breaching a wide crevasse in rock, terrified he would fall and be broken on the rocks.

It really was like Poe's "Imp of the Perverse" story, where I felt as though the dark steep stairs had the ability to suck me down into them.

This must have been part of the paranoia the drug induces when taken in excess. I could get no relief. Even lying in bed my head was spinning. Eyes open my head spun. Eyes closed my head spun. I couldn't find a single position that would relieve the sense of sea-sickness (no nauseau though).

The worst were these perceptual jump-cuts that kept occurring. As though someone were playing a camera trick with reality. It would feel like your head missed a few frames suddenly. It must have been consciousness flipping and glitching in those moments. I guess that was its way of warning me that unconsciousness was only a few pills away.

And the first time I turned to go down the stairs (right as the overdose was kicking in) I experienced psychotic effects. In the downstairs darkness I saw this hideous, broad shouldered black creature like a spider-minotaur fucking splayed out across the few steps and just waiting to come up...or was it already moving towards me. I pulled back.

This is funny to me typing this now. But wasn't at the time.

I hope I didn't give myself a stroke. When I could finally get my blood pressure taken the next day it was well within non-stroke territory. But I kept having this weird sensation on the right side of my face yesterday and this morning before I went to sleep finally that mades me think a nerve might have paralysis...but I looked and look now in the mirror and there's nothing visible, Thank God, so I think it might just be a muscle fasciculation caused by either the overdose (it seems gone today as I type this) or a muscle fasciculation caused by my withdrawal from Lorazepam since I didn't want to mix those drugs when taking the OTC one so went off it for a few days.

Plus, if the symptoms were on the right side of my face, the stroke or T.I.A. or whatever would have been left brain and I probably would have experienced some degree of language difficulty. My father began having a series of mini-strokes and T.I.A. right around the age I am now. But his blood pressure was much higher than mine.

About using and not-using Lorazepam: I don't seem to suffer any serious withdrawal symptoms (virtually none but sometimes slight muscle fasciculations) when I abandon Lorazepam (Ativan) for a few days.

In bad periods, I can't do without it. But in relatively good periods like lately I can pick and choose.

I attribute my worries that I was experiencing a stroke to the paranoia which also goes along with the drug (especially in overdose) and I was misinterpreting the serious-as-fuck ataxia that I was having by attributing it to something other than what I should have known was causing it: the drug overdose itself. That drug didn't need to facilitate a stroke to cause serious as fuck ataxia.

Every ten minutes I forced myself to leave the bed (which wasn't easy) to go drink more water and keep pissing it out and each time I opened the door it was as though I were going mountainclimbing. I would leap the three or four feet from corner to corner to get past the stairwell and grab the wall for dear life.

I had turned the act of walking down a hallway into alpinism. I'd like to say it was interesting but interesting doesn't seem to ever be the right adjective to apply to terror.

I say good periods up above there because even with the distortions and the psychosis, I know what's causing them. Even as I experience them I am telling myself what's causing them so I'm not being controlled by my psychosis. I'm merely observing it. Today it happened again when the drug must be well out of my system, which was a little weird. I attribute this more to vision problems.

I couldn't resist digging out my camera and recharging it after being so inspired by so many visual productions on Tumblr and while I can't get myself out of the house (I'm going to try to go around the block tonight to just get some Christmas lights and pictures of things in this great wind we have tonight in the darkness) I took some pictures through a second floor window of some neighbor's Christmas lights lighting up the porches of large hulking dark houses below creepy dawn skies mostly jagged with dissenting gray clouds in the shapes of some of the snootier forms of punctuation, and some snooty diacritical mark was drearily pretty...

Not sure the pictures came out. But they can be manipulated, played with. I look forward. I was naked from the waist down and trying to hide behind my venetian blinds and not knock over about ten plants I have flowering atop that radiator in that bathroom while moving the blinds around and trying not to appear like an exhibitionist or a stalker.

This is because I thought the people who live there were on the porch. And I wanted to get the pic before the clouds broke up and before it became the full light of dawn and time was moving fast at the point when everything seems to change over at once.

But it weirded me out because the people on the porch seemed to be wearing Halloween costumes. At November's end. They were huge. They had to be in like giant mouse suits. I could only catch bits of their silhouettes. Sometimes I thought they saw me and other times I thought no, I'm in enough shadow.

I just wanted them to fucking leave for work so I could have the picture I wanted without them in it. But they would go back in the shadows. Then re-emerge. Clearly, if they had seen me I wasn't the subject of their focus, which was each other. Eventually, Lee came in the front door downstairs and I asked him to come upstairs and look and see if there were people on that porch. He looked and said there's nobody there.

This made me much happier and then I was able to work on taking the photo from the first floor right out the front door, since nobody would be disturbed by me pointing the camera that way. It was a creepy feeling to see them again and again relating to one another and trying to intuit what their dark costumes were and why they were lingering in the cold of the porch and not leaving for work or going inside. At that odd hour to mill about.

But I guess this was more my complete exhaustion (at that point I had only applied a few bandages of sleep to the mania) and the fact that I'm somewhat myopic and the fact that the porch was so dark and windy and probably there were forms there moving about in wind that my mind misread. Something blowing probably. A porch flag. Something anyway.

So not psychosis in the sense where you are believing the hallucination you are seeing. True psychosis, is, I think where you believe the hallucination.

In both cases, I questioned. The monster I knew was wrong. The people I wasn't so sure. But it made sense with the limited visual data and not being sure to be prudent about being seen. Taking a photo of a neighbor without their permission can be creepy and that was certainly not my intent. So I'm glad I didn't accidentally do that.

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

OMG Cheezburger!

I talk to a website like my beloved, because it is my beloved. Cheezburger, you poor dear! I cannot LOL for some reason right's not compatible with being up over forty whatever hours, I've lost track. The only thing I noticed happening is my teeth hurt when I tried to eat something earlier. This is because of bruxism. I'm a bruxist. It's an art movement. You grind your fucking teeth. And I've been doing it while Tumbling and now when I eat my teeth hurt. I remember when someone freaked out because I admired a famous actor's skull and speculated about the shape of it beneath this skin. I'm not Jeffrey Dahmer. It was a fucking aesthetic thing. Not a Lecter thing. And the person said, "He'll read this and be terrifed." Like I'm standing there going "Ding! Ding!" with a scalpel. Anyway, while I can't LOL, I tried stopping in the middle of the night and kept getting that fucking annoying "The Connection Was Reset...Try Again?" message. And now I go back like 14 hours later and I'm still getting the message but manage to squeak through enough times to see people leaving messages saying they're jumping off the site cuz it's giving them headaches or epileptic seizures or something. But what about Cheezburger? I feel like a close friend is suffering a migraine and I want to massage his or her temples. I'm lying. I loathe touching other people or websites. Cats. Cats are okay. I can stand to touch cats.

This is New. This is Weird.

I haven't had a non-sleep period this long since I was like 17.

Around that age, I would sometimes go for two days without sleep.

The weirdest thing is I feel wide awake and not tired and it's been 39 hours with only 20 minutes of sleep.

When I'm like this I forget to eat. This is when my weight fluctuates the most. Mania. I have to be reminded, usually, that it's been since yesterday that I ate anything. I do drink tea or something though. I think all my body really wants is a little sugar, a little chocolate, a little tea and it thinks it's perfectly fine.

They said I lost 18 pounds in the periods between doctor's visits the last time, but they did congratulate me on that. She and I both laughed when I told her how I lost it.

I suppose people who go to war and people in desperate situations do this all the time. Simply don't sleep because they can't. With them, it's adrenaline I guess. With me, it's neurochemistry.

I blame it all on Tumblr for being so visually interesting.

That's enough to turn anyone manic.

I didn't realize how young Tumblr's spirit is. The stuff I'm seeing is mostly kids' things, like from teenage years to twenties. 

They like cool stuff. And I'm impressed when I click on a profile and it's a young 'un and he or she is liking and posting cool things like Nirvana stuff and poladroids.

There's a lot of self-help stuff and now I see where that emo shit we make fun of in the Go Cry, Emo Kid! section on Cheezburger is coming from lol. But who am I to judge. I ain't gonna be disrespectful of anybody working on their problems no mo. It's too ironic and stupid. I don't even laugh at Mel Gibson jokes anymore. It won't be funny when he kills himself or kills his girlfriend because he's mixing bipolar disorder with alcoholism, Whch I'm guessing is the fastest way to get to that 20% suicide rate we enjoy as bipolars.

I tell you would make me kill myself. Lots of things actually. But mouth cancer. Mouth cancer where they had to cut huge portions of my tongue out. A glossectomy. Is that the fancy name for it. I would bring a gun to the office and say you put me under before you do that thing or I will shoot you dead, Dr. Mengele. I should never have read this cancer survivor's account of three bouts with tongue cancer through the year. She shares every horrible bit of torturous pain and gruesome surgery and aftermath she experienced. It is gnarly. Understatement. I would have been dead with the first round of concentration camp tortures she described. I'll happily admit that woman is one hundred times stronger than me. She said the pain when they stick a biopsy needle into the tongue made her nearly fly across the room and into the wall. By all accounts the tongue is incredibly sensitive and even with local anesthetics it's gonna hurt like a motherfucker. And then she had huge portions of her tongue cut out. Bit by bit. After each remission ended. I mean hand me the fucking asp already. Here's the tit.

But after that totally bizarre sharing, to get back to the question of why I'm seeing so much youth on my dashboard?....

I guess I'm following those people and seeing their things because that's who's liking my stuff. 

Which seems weird. I guess that confirms that I'm basically very immature, a fact I already knew.

And don't kid yourself. I always said on Cheezburger I didn't tell the younger folks stay away in my profile because I think so many of them are very gifted, creative people. I hate to admit this but when I would see those forty year old guys warning the kids away, I always secretly thought they had Pedobear urges. And they were protecting themselves and not the kids. I think you're supposed to be 18 to use the service on Cheezburger anywhere or have a responsible adult guiding you on your internet journey. Yeah, I'm sure that happens. lol. 

But the kids on Tumblr--and by kids I mean teens and not tweens mostly--some of them have amazing blogs. Like I was just on a blog created by some young girl who added one of my poladroids (I still love that little fucking Poladroid maker, although I wish its creature would soup it up just a little bit with more randomizing "true to real Polaroid" effects) to her Polaroids and poladroid collection had a gallery of stuff that simply blew me away. It was like she made me see my picture in a different way as a part of the continuum of images she had selected and arranged. Which could have been a show. She had the eye for how to use a wallspace (only she was doing it on the internet). She was alternating textures in a visually interesting way, alternation abstraction with the concrete, working it. And she's a kid. So that's why I enjoy it. If I had to talk in conversation, yeah, it would get awkard. But I'm awkward with anyone on bad days. So here's where the brilliant strategy of Tumblr to keep it about the art comes in. I suppose the young are falling in love on there. You can see they are in love with each other's pictures. And often those pictures are of themselves. What do I know. I've only been on there a day and a half. I like that there's literature too and that people are as interesting in exchanging the written word as the image.  It's just a really cool, really user-friendly blogging platform. It really is like a combo of Twitter's flow and Blogger's more varied content. 

That makes me think of one of my favorite tweets, which was this: "I use: Twitter for humor; Spotify for music; Instagram for sharing pics; Tumblr for miscellaneous musings; Facebook for hating everything." He's basically using the platforms in all the right ways lol. That is why I am dark on Facebook. I haven't signed in there in like six month and that was for two seconds to check one thing. So probably really more like a year. But, you know, bipolars and FACEBOOK don't go together. Really, we don't

I just edited my Twitter down from 700 and some tweets to 292 tweets. This is funny. Because I've only been deleted a handful of times and I thought, "Twitter people are really divas and assholes and judgemental and and..." And then I reread my tweets. It was totally fucking bipolar mania craziness on those 500 tweets I deleted. And some wildly inappropriate statements. So now I feel like my Twitter acquaintances (ridiculous to call them followers, they should change that shit) are incredibly tolerant and kind people! LOL. What a difference a day makes! 24 little hours. 

But the basic premise of Twitter is bullshit. The whole idea is you are WINNING! if you have a shitload of followers and you only follow a few or follow one or follow none like the asshole Dalai Lama follows nobody. Why doesn't he use his bullshit compassion to add great causes and charities and things that will ENLIGHTEN people by following others. Doubtless because of his big fat huge personal EGO. I always said it would be funny if he only followed one person and that person was Richard Gere. Or an account called Richard Gere's gerbil or something. 

So I'll ad I'm always impressed when I encounter a person who's famous or just gives great tweet, and is following a greater number of accounts than the followers he or she has. I've even seen a few famous or marginally famous or microfamous people in that situation and I was in awe. Because they were making a statement that they had decided not to be assholes just because the dominant culture on Twitter is assholes.

Jocelyn Plums (FilthyRichmond) is the best Twitter personality I have encountered thus far. She does disgusting, gross out humor. Think Lisa Lampanelli. But. Fucking. Funny. Nobody comes close to her stuff and she really should be making a lot of money off this. She will doubtless be soon because that stuff deserves a wider audience. She can be almost grade school gross out funny. Or she can turn around and whip a tweet out like this:  "God loves us so much that he made himself never exist."
She makes the self-anointed snarky hierophants of Twatter look like total twits. And the brilliant thing is she does it with playground humor, bathroom humor, nasty as fuck humor quite often. If you don't blanch a few times reading her stream there's seriously something wrong with you. And she keeps it all clean one liners. By clean I mean form and not content obviously. It's not a messy, pandering stream or any attempt to be social. She's just there to bring the humor and that she does. 

WHAT IS UP WITH THESE MOFO PLANES?  One just roared over too low again now. We live not super far from a medium sized airport but yesterday I thought I was gonna die like the people on the ground in Lockerbie. I have never in my motherfucking life heard a plane that low or that loud. This house only shook once in ten years and that was the East Coast earthquake. The other time was yesterday afternoon. That plane circled around and over this house at low altitude 8 times. I thought for sure they couldn't get the landing gear down or terrorism or something like that. I actually thought, "Should I go to the motherfucking basement?" And I couldn't bring myself to do that. I thought Lee would see a halfway done blog post as my last "gesture" lol. He was at work so would have survived anyway. I kept thinking, "Take the motherfucker down in the river. Pull a Scully!" Don't come down on our little Lockerbie. Yeah, good luck with that river landing. The Susquehanna's nowhere near that wide, but more importantly it's not nearly deep enough. The weirdest thing is after the last pass when it vanished in the distance...and the opposite direction of the airport, I should add...the sirens all went off. So I thought: it's down. But I knew I would have felt it in my feet. These wooden floors would have transmitted it to my bare feet. Even if I didn't hear it.

Speaking of sounds did you ever pay attention to the sound water makes when it fills a glass? It's a very particular change in pitches as it rises up pushing the air chute out. I don't think it's a miniature Doppler thing but maybe it is. I noticed it in an altered state the other day and marveled. I had just not even noticed it before. In my fucking life.

My Mom got mad at me for not taking a pill and just putting myself under.

But I was having fun doing the photography and other stuff on Tumblr. 

Bipolars and the novelty of new websites. 

I can go a year. I imagine I'll probably be infatuated with Tumblr for a year now.

Going back to druhhgs... I don't even need to take a whole Ambien. I take half of one. That shit's powerful So much for the jerk who didn't want to write me the scrip cuz he thought I MIGHT abuse it. I take it on average once every three days and then half a pill.You get what you pay for, I guess. I don't mean the medication. I mean him. Can't complain. He was free. I haven't replaced him with anyone but why bother since it wasn't real therapy. He'd ask me about LOLcats or what I watch on t.v. and I would try to entertain him. 

And then I said something and I think the Catholic in him kicked in and that was when he became a paternalistic therapist and decided he would make decisions for me. Which is why he is no longer my "therapist."

He really was a pussy. He hid behind other people and wouldn't even speak to me. Because he knew he had no ground to stand on. He was always too busy to even have the decency to answer my letter with its pointedly rational questions. He had to filter a bullshit response through his supervisor. Which is something I had to force. And I never heard from him again, which proves exactly what I told his supervisor: he doesn't give a shit about his "clients." He's an overworked, underpaid guy who probably feels he deserves better and hates 90% of the people he has to see on a daily basis. Nuts there directly from the criminal justice system and such. Okay, nice of me to say "nuts" when I'm bipolar. But he gets the axe murderers and stuff who are "doing fine now, really I am, doc!" I would hear it when I was going in and out. Half the people in there had their probation officers hanging around shepherding them through the mental health system. I felt bad for them, don't get me wrong, but what's that gonna get me or them? 

All you need is the meds anyway. You don't need the assholes to go along with the meds. Find friends instead. Or talk to an AI entity or something. It's all the same. All your problems will be over when you're dead whether that's tomorrow or 60 years from now. 

God, this is pressured speech. I don't only have pressured speech. I have pressured typing.


Another Thing I Missed on Flickr!

The actor/photographer Dirk Michael Boche paid me a great compliment on my photography in a comment left on my Flickr.

I feel honored and gushy.

Yes, I am one of those people who blogs every fucking compliment he gets.

Weasel. Sad.

No, I don't really. The ones from Gramma I keep to myself.

You can see Boche's deliciously various photography on Flickr: here.

If your read this, Dirk, thanks kindly!

You made my day.

Oh, This is Truly Marvelous...

I miss things by not being on Flickr.

I missed Bernard Gillet's kind invitation extended some days back to this magisterial online exhibition: The sensuousness of subtraction?
Bernard Gillet is one of my absolute favorites on a site that has no small number of photographic geniuses.

From the major fashion photographers to the best portraitists, nobody seems to feel Flickr is "slumming it."

It's the bullring and the museum and the wedding bed and the funeral.

I love the way the Flickr "Hive Mind" has become a sort of meme over all other memes.

We're all pretty much there. Being rearranged in that strange matrix. Creepy and fascinating proposition.

Gillet's work doesn't merely fascinate--for me it also facilitates.

Whenever he posts new work, I find myself wanting to play with light again.

If a painting or a photograph is about luminosity itself, about abandoning objects, about texture that won't surrender shape or perceptions that won't abandon gestalt, then I tend to fall in love with that work of art much more easily.

And that's admittedly my sensibility. I can't defend its worth against other tendencies, which sometimes have their own great successes, whether in the expressionistic or even the Romantic sphere.

Each style has its own idea of what the senses are really for.

I don't mean abstract art versus various "objective" "realisms."

Because abstract art can be ideationally flat, can despise mystery, can say absolutely nothing and be proud of that fact.

And work that is superficially --or nominally--representative may be totally invested in the mysteries of existence.

But the works of art which can unsay things? Those ensorcel me.

If you look at these photos linked above, you'll see Gillet creates photographs which manage to reincarnate earlier photographic modalities and simulate the effects of various antique cameras and processing techniques.

I sense a beautiful redolence of Man Ray in some of those photos.

I'll admit sometimes I think I love his photographs because they do what the best of Whistler does: reprioritize perception and respect the mysteries.

There is the painterly hand in some of the photographs. But only if we agree it would have to be a painter like Whistler. Or Rothko.

Photographs like these bring home the difficult truth of what a small and dubious thing form itself may ultimately turn out to be.

The quantum and post-quantum seem to be moving in that direction.

One form subtracts from others to exist.

I love the ongoing, sensuous subtraction in Bernard's work.

You can talk forever and not even begin to touch what a great photograph is.

So why am I trying?

Just enjoy.


rolt50 by William Keckler
rolt50, a photo by William Keckler on Flickr.

"Two Family Photographs, Two Milky Hands"

Bipolar Mania

Bipolar mania is ridiculous.

I have been up thirty hours straight, with the exception of about a twenty minute nap.

And I'm not even TIRED.

I did get some creative stuff done (drafted poetry, began a few new projects, fell in love with Tumblr).

So there's that.



And I forgot someone sent me my proof pages for a mag.

I'll go do that now.

I've had the fucking Nyan Cat song in my head off and on all day.

That should be the theme song for bipolarity.

And what else infected my head today?

Weird Al's parody of Lady Gaga.

And the Bee Gees' "Tragedy!"

Which I'd probably vote for as the best-worst overdramatic song EVAH!

And close to the best-worst falsettos ever. (Get a REAL falsetto like Mr. Mercury!)

Why can't I have Mahler or something in my head.

Monday, November 28, 2011

Why is Sylvia Plath Trending Right Now?

Why is Sylvia Plath trending suddenly on Twitter? I'm pleasantly shocked. Unless somebody just bought her oven on EBAY. Something creepy like that.


Well What If I Told You

I happen to like people who chase their own asshole around.


I'm having fun posting photos and stuff on Tumblr.

I actually like Tumblr already.

The only stupid thing is that there's no easy way to comment on someone's stuff without downloading some weird thingie. And I'm guessing you have to give them password access, which I don't do anymore just to get "plus" apps.

Giving Up

People will continue to obsess over the formalistic concerns of the universe, without a degree in physics or chemistry or even neuroscience.

I suppose it's funny and tragic. Like a hot dog vendor taken out by a Santana Banana truck run amok.

That idea that language is really the cement of this universe.

Mixing in a truck. Round and round.

Seems a beautiful waif of an idea.

You gotta love the Holly Golightlys of linguistic theories.

Since nobody on this planet will ever walk around the corner of that block, you can think or say whatever you like about it.

Noumena, Inc.

Workin at the car wash...yeah.

Why should I even want to wake up tomorrow morning?

The beauty of the fact that nothing is reproducible in this universe?

Maybe that.

Yes, science is based upon the reproducible and the reducible.

I pretend to remember. I remember to pretend.

But I know in my bones that if anyone could reproduce one single thing, concrete or abstract, this universe would immediately end.

It would probably close down like an origami animal unfolding itself back into a two dimensional surface, which would then become a one dimensional surface, a point, which would then disappear.

And I suppose some physicists believe that is exactly what will happen one day.

I also overheard science say "a saddle-shaped universe."

Which is a funny way to tawk.

Solve the mysteries of the universe on a blawg.

Reality will be solved and people will cease to obsess over little trifles like death or misery or destroyed love.

Are two people in love like winds blowing street litter of their past through each other?

Do you think one derives great satisfaction if one becomes a human meme?

Or to become a meme unto only one other. Sacred memeness. Luv.

Does the human meme not bleed if you prick it?

I suppose it's a game show metaphor.

Winning. Tiger blood. Dying is the new living large.

Mel Gibson and Charlie Sheen walk into a bar...

I've got nothing.


Reckoning Tumblr

Iz on da Tumblr.

Popping my Tumblr hymen.

But I don't feel Tumbld yet.

Each new blogging platform a world of wonder, world of wonder...

It is visually orgasmic though.

And I'm enjoying the lit stuff there as well.

It only feels a little bit like the ultimate meme of early 21st century life  is chasing technology's Wired asshole from blogging platform to blogging platform.

I wonder if hospitals will eventually wire up their life-sustaining equipment to all these blogging platforms like Twitter and Tumblr, so as we're dying our dangerously erratic cardiac rhythms, failing respiration and such can be instantly enjoyed by our friends.

Dying should have a LIKE button like everything else.

Sunday, November 27, 2011

Do You Need a Hug?

Well here are some options.

I would credit the photog if the site that posted this had told us who it was.

Credits--what a 20th century concept, right?

What a first world problem.

Very Sexy, Very Haut!


If anyone wants to give me funds for air fare (and a time machine, since it ended November 14th) to attend the Nofound Photofair, feel free.

Or slightly less funds and I can attend next year's.

What a great show!

And I did a Flickr search for you here, so you can at least some cheat peeks and the great iconic Tyrannosaurus tree pic:  T-Rex once seen, cannot be unseen.

Oh, wait. Here's the Photofair's Flickr with much more:  More Nofound Greatest Hits.

If You are Epileptic and Photosensitive, Go See Breaking Dawn Right Now...

Because then you'll be able to sue.

Once it was Pokemon and Power Rangers giving epileptic peeps seizures.

Or brake lights, if you were a character in The Andromeda Strain (first adaptation).

Now it's Kristen Stewart delivering her monster baby.

Gaga Crab

Gaga Crab. Whatthefuck  areyoulookinat? Baby, I was BORN THIS WAY.

i'm what?

I'm what?  A fuckin guinea pig? Srs?

i can't hear you

i can't hear you over how  fucking inverted i am Move Bitch Getoutdaway!  I'm fucking Flipper!

sum peeplz

This is's my favorite grandchild?

"Honey Badger Don't Care"

Do you know the phenom that is Randall on YouTube?

25 million hits and he deserves every freakin one of them.

The funniest thing is I have a friend that sounds EXACTLY like Randall.

Saturday, November 26, 2011

Lolcats + Satie

Video I made of some of my lolz.

Suzanne Made Me

Pepper Spray Cop Meme! ANGELA GENUSA!!

I wanted to share the memetic genius of Angela Genusa since she kindly allowed me to host these brill Pepperspray Cop memes. Love these!!
A.G. was also kind enough to share this link, which shows you how quickly Officer John Pike made his way through the canon of modern and not so modern art: Must See Pepper-Vision

Business Cat Meme

is probably one of my favorite all-time memes. He's fun to caption. THE PROBLEM  WITH OUTSOURCING?

Conspiracy Keanu! Now with Anagrams!

THE ANTI-KEANU-CHRIST ANAGRAMS OF "SECRET SCIENTOLOGIST" Eureka Evens Eureka Seven Avenues Reek Avenue Reeks Sake Revenue Ukase Veneer Ukase Evener Suave Keener A Severe Nuke A Reeves Nuke A Reeve Nukes A Knee Revues A Keen Revues A Knees Revue A Keens Revue A Reek Venues A Reeks Venue Averse Eek Nu Averse Eke Nu Ease Nuke Rev Eaves Eek Urn Eaves Eek Run Eaves Eke Urn Eaves Eke Run Eaves Reek Nu Eaves Ken Rue Eaves Nuke Re Eave Eek Urns Eave Eek Runs Eave Eke Urns Eave Eke Runs Eave Reek Sun Eave Reek Nus Eave Reeks Nu Eave Ekes Urn Eave Ekes Run Eave Seek Urn Eave Seek Run Eave Nee Rusk Eave Ere Sunk Eave Ken Ruse Eave Ken Rues Eave Ken Sure Eave Ken User Eave Kens Rue Eave Nukes Re Eave Nuke Res Snake Eve Rue Sneak Eve Rue Knave Ere Sue Knave Ere Use Knave See Rue Rake Even Sue Rake Even Use Sake Reeve Nu Sake Venue Re Sake Even Rue Sake Revue En Sake Eve Rune Ukase Nee Rev Ukase Even Re Ukase Veer En Ukase Ever En Raven Eek Sue Raven Eek Use Raven Eke Sue Raven Eke Use Naves Eek Rue Naves Eke Rue Vanes Eek Rue Vanes Eke Rue Vane Eek Ruse Vane Eek Rues Vane Eek Sure Vane Eek User Vane Eke Ruse Vane Eke Rues Vane Eke Sure Vane Eke User Vane Reek Sue Vane Reek Use Vane Ekes Rue Vane Seek Rue Nave Eek Ruse Nave Eek Rues Nave Eek Sure Nave Eek User Nave Eke Ruse Nave Eke Rues Nave Eke Sure Nave Eke User Nave Reek Sue Nave Reek Use Nave Ekes Rue Nave Seek Rue Ear Eek Nevus Ear Eke Nevus Ear Eves Nuke Ear Eve Nukes Are Eek Nevus Are Eke Nevus Are Eves Nuke Are Eve Nukes Era Eek Nevus Era Eke Nevus Era Eves Nuke Era Eve Nukes Eras Eve Nuke Sear Eve Nuke Ears Eve Nuke Sera Eve Nuke Ares Eve Nuke Ureas Eve Ken Suaver Eek En Suaver Eke En Urea Eves Ken Urea Eve Kens Aver Knee Sue Aver Knee Use Aver Keen Sue Aver Keen Use Aver See Nuke Rave Knee Sue Rave Knee Use Rave Keen Sue Rave Keen Use Rave See Nuke Sea Revue Ken Sea Veer Nuke Sea Ever Nuke Suave Knee Re Suave Keen Re Suave Reek En Suave Ere Ken Vase Eek Rune Vase Eke Rune Vase Knee Rue Vase Keen Rue Vase Ere Nuke Save Eek Rune Save Eke Rune Save Knee Rue Save Keen Rue Save Ere Nuke Ark Ensue Eve Ark Venue See Ska Nee Revue Ska Enure Eve Ska Venue Ere Ask Nee Revue Ask Enure Eve Ask Venue Ere Auks Reeve En Auks Nee Veer Auks Nee Ever Auks Even Ere Auk Severe En Auk Reeves En Auk Reeve Ens Auk Nee Sever Auk Nee Serve Auk Nee Verse Auk Nee Veers Auk Sneer Eve Auk Nerve See Auk Never See Auk Seen Veer Auk Seen Ever Auk Evens Ere Auk Seven Ere Auk Even Sere Auk Even Seer An Eek Revues An Eke Revues An Ekes Revue An Seek Revue Anus Eek Veer Anus Eek Ever Anus Eke Veer Anus Eke Ever Anus Reek Eve Van Eek Reuse Van Eke Reuse As Reeve Nuke As Knee Revue As Keen Revue As Reek Venue A Reeve Ken Us A Eek Nerve Us A Eek Never Us A Eek Sever Nu A Eek Serve Nu A Eek Verse Nu A Eek Veers Nu A Eek Veer Sun A Eek Veer Nus A Eek Ever Sun A Eek Ever Nus A Eek Eves Urn A Eek Eves Run A Eek Eve Urns A Eek Eve Runs A Eek Nevus Re A Eke Nerve Us A Eke Never Us A Eke Sever Nu A Eke Serve Nu A Eke Verse Nu A Eke Veers Nu A Eke Veer Sun A Eke Veer Nus A Eke Ever Sun A Eke Ever Nus A Eke Eves Urn A Eke Eves Run A Eke Eve Urns A Eke Eve Runs A Eke Nevus Re A Knee Veer Us A Knee Ever Us A Knee Rev Sue A Knee Rev Use A Keen Veer Us A Keen Ever Us A Keen Rev Sue A Keen Rev Use A Reek Even Us A Reek Eves Nu A Reek Eve Sun A Reek Eve Nus A Reeks Eve Nu A Ekes Veer Nu A Ekes Ever Nu A Ekes Eve Urn A Ekes Eve Run A Seek Veer Nu A Seek Ever Nu A Seek Eve Urn A Seek Eve Run A Nee Eve Rusk A Ere Eve Sunk A Veer Ken Sue A Veer Ken Use A Ever Ken Sue A Ever Ken Use A See Nuke Rev A Eves Ken Rue A Eves Nuke Re A Eve Ken Ruse A Eve Ken Rues A Eve Ken Sure A Eve Ken User A Eve Kens Rue A Eve Nukes Re A Eve Nuke Res Eave Ken Re Us Rake Eve En Us Sake Eve Re Nu Nae Eek Rev Us Nae Eke Rev Us Vane Eek Re Us Vane Eke Re Us Nave Eek Re Us Nave Eke Re Us Ear Eve Ken Us Are Eve Ken Us Era Eve Ken Us Aver Eek En Us Aver Eke En Us Rave Eek En Us Rave Eke En Us Sea Eek Rev Nu Sea Eke Rev Nu Vase Eek Re Nu Vase Eke Re Nu Save Eek Re Nu Save Eke Re Nu Ark Nee Eve Us Ark See Eve Nu Ark Eve En Sue Ark Eve En Use Ska Ere Eve Nu Ska Eve En Rue Ask Ere Eve Nu Ask Eve En Rue Auks Eve En Re Auk See En Rev Auk Eves En Re Auk Eve En Res Auk Eve Ens Re An Eek Veer Us An Eek Ever Us An Eek Rev Sue An Eek Rev Use An Eke Veer Us An Eke Ever Us An Eke Rev Sue An Eke Rev Use An Reek Eve Us Ran Eek Eve Us Ran Eke Eve Us Van Eek Ere Us Van Eek Re Sue Van Eek Re Use Van Eke Ere Us Van Eke Re Sue Van Eke Re Use As Eek Veer Nu As Eek Ever Nu As Eek Eve Urn As Eek Eve Run As Eke Veer Nu As Eke Ever Nu As Eke Eve Urn As Eke Eve Run As Reek Eve Nu As Eve Ken Rue As Eve Nuke Re A Eek En Rev Us A Eke En Rev Us A Eve Ken Re Us

Conspiracy Keanu Meme

It always starts with the premise "What if" and is usually governmental paranoia. There are some funny ones on Memebase. I figured I'd try my paw. WHAT IF  RICHARD GERE'S GERBIL


If it happened on a blog it doesn't count.


Does my cat smell "less than fresh?"



focus pocus

The focus groups we formed

My Definition

Twitternoia: thinking tweets are "out to get you."

My Definition

My definition of a redneck mom: a woman who sleeps with both a loaded gun and a loaded son.



how not to interview


Friday, November 25, 2011

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

It's Windy as Fuck Today

Steelton behaves badly with wind.

It's all these hills.

These steep hills.

And the tall ancient houses like mine, designed to go a little insane in wind.

I put this Ligeti piece on so all the animals will walk out of the walls.

I particularly like the blue antelope.

Later, they may be some panic when one tries to find its way back into a wall too suddenly.

One must coach then.

One must be maternal.

Speak softly.

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

deliciously wtf

cosplay is so hot.

Okay, I'm Good for at Least a Month

I watch a Cazwell video like this and I'm good for a month.

God, I love any song that sounds like a jumprope chant lol.

Good Songs to Sing at the Bus Stop

I think I'm going to just have cotton candy for Thanksgiving.

Don't watch this if you have a headache. Or you get them easily.

One of the bestest videos ever though.

Cazwell is 100% swag.

And Amanda's...ok...ay.

I love the way she pronounces "Cotton Candy" as though she has a cleft palate or something.

I think it's supposed to be a "ghetto diphthong." You know, like "aight."

Maybe You Didn't Know Ricki Lake Can Sing

I mean if you missed "Hairspray" and all that.

But here's more proof.

Didn't she almost marry a serial killer she met online last week?

Wow! That happened to me TOO!

On Memebase, a few days ago there was a screenshot from a young dude's FACEBOOK where he had posted a picture of Roger from this video and written, "Roger in this video is hotter than my girlfriend."

And then the next note said "Guys! Seriously, stop "LIKING" this. My girlfriend is starting to get really PISSED."

Speaking of which, when Roger first appears in this video is he doing a stand piss?

Love It

The voicework on this is priceless.

Everything on this is priceless.

Follow the video to YouTube to watch more "Furball Fables."

Here are the first few comments on the video, which give some information on the Japanese origin of this cute adaptation of folkloric kitehs well-known (in different guises) over there.

In Japan, Cats are considered to invite people and fortune into their homes, therefore manekineko have one paw raised to beckon them inside.

@SORAPAPAGOGO Thankls so much!! WE love your comment! WE hope that Manekineko blesses everyone with good luck and fortune, especially you!! Do you know of any Japanese websites we should send this to? Thank you!
Furballfables 4 days ago

These Japanese subtitles are almost perfect! Impressive!

"Maneki" means "inviting(maneku)", and ancient people regarded fortune as passengers. So the Maneki Cats are beckoning them with their hand.
Prego8823 6 days ago

I recently found a children's book that was celebrated in the thirties--won one of the major awards but now seems largely forgotten--and it was yet another retelling of the "Fortune Kitty" folktale.

Why did B. Kliban Have to Die Relatively Young?

One of the things from the seventies I really, really miss is B. Kliban.

Bernard "Hap" Kliban (January 1, 1935 – August 12, 1990).

I didn't realize how quickly he's sort of disappearing from our culture.

I remember when I could go into any Spencer Gifts and be delighted by a wealth of Kliban items.

Now I feel very lucky to have found that Billy Kliban cat mug last year in that thrift store.

He sits atop a pile of cat books across from my bathtub and stares at me.

Lately, I've been hunting Kliban down and dropping his name among LOLers (of my generation or thereabout) and other ailurophiles and being shocked to discover how relatively unknown or forgotten he is!

Was his stuff marketed only in certain areas of the country?

I read a little bit of his biography but want to read more.

Here are some Kliban clips I found on YouTube and some other stuff.

Of course, Kliban didn't only do the cats. But that's what I always loved. I remember Kliban shirts, Kliban pillows in the shape of cats in tennis shoes, Kliban ceramics, etc.

Occasionally, I'll see someone plagiarizing Kliban in an Lolcats caption.

People always love these pilfered captions but they don't get to hear the source as I've never seen anyone "call bullshit" when the theft is committed.

The one I see most often is two cats sitting together and one saying to the other, "If I had two dead rats, I'd give you one."

That's one of Kliban's signature toons.

The Offical Web Site--with "non-vintage" merchandise.

More Kliban cartoons, but not just his cats.

Socially Awkward Penguin Meme


He's one of my favorite to caption.

la politesse


secret CIA cold war experiments


something feels wrong



Om Nom Nom Om Nom Nom Om Nom Nom....

So do you know Jesus?

Tell me about it, right?! And then they nailed him to a cross and it was just a bloody mess...

Master, I feel enlightened.

I'd be a Buddhist, but I think I'd get tired of all the coming and koan.

Sunday, November 20, 2011


Someone on Twitter added me to a list tonight and that list was "Brehmsstrahlung."

This was a word of which I used to know the meaning.

I remember using it in a poem responding to a poem by Rosmarie Waldrop half a lifetime ago.

But now I had to look it up.

I'm getting old.

I'm not quite sure why my tweets fit this category (they run the gamut from Wortspielen to Yo Momma jokes lol) but somehow it seemed correct.


Brems·strah·lung (brmshträlng) n.

The electromagnetic radiation produced by a change in the velocity of an electrically charged subatomic particle, such as an electron, as when it collides with another object.

[German : Bremse, brake (from Middle Low German premse, from pramen, to press) + Strahlung, radiation (from strahlen, to radiate, from Strahl, ray, from Middle High German strle, from Old High German strla, arrow, stripe; see ster-2 in Indo-European roots).]

I Guess I Realize

that Sam Vaknin is somewhat of a "fringe" figure in contemporary psychology.

But I was enjoying reading his theory of NPD (Narcissistic Personality Disorder): Sam Vaknin.

I find it interesting how he connects this to Schizoid Affective Disorder.

Maybe I didn't read enough, because I didn't see where he saw any overlap with the various bipolar disorders. Or how he was careful to differentiate these and their sometimes overlapping traits.

The only discussion of mania came when he discussed inadvertent side effects of pharmacological treatment of NPD (which is really only the third most important component in a treatment plan, apres Vaknin).

I'm impressed at the bravery Vaknin shows in excoriating himself, excoriating his own brain to try to get at the reasons for the most horrible aspects of his personality, which he avows.

But I'm also cast a bit in despair by the recurrent notion that all talk of recovery fron NPD may be lip-service and that this may be a death sentence.

I guess I was disturbed because I saw a lot of my own traits in his descriptions of both the NPD-afflicted person and the Schizoid.

But one can't have EVERY MENTAL DISORDER out there, and bipolar traits definitely do overlap with many of the traits of NPD (mainly in the manic phase).

I don't think I have N.P.D. but I would have to check an awful lot of things on the checklist for it.

But that's probably because some types of dysfunctionality are pretty universal with the more crippling forms of mental illness.

At one point, when Vaknin (read his interesting Wiki bio to see the strange route he came to his awakening!) was quoting one of the thinkers of the Frankfurt School, I found myself nodding in agreement with that thinker's sociological reading of some forms of mental illness.

I do buy somewhat into the idea that as culture changes, as technology changes, you get the mental illnesses that go along with those cultural and technological changes.

Or rather, the question of mental illness needs to be bracketed differently: some traits heretofore labeled "mental illness" might now be better served when seen as manifestions of normal responses to technological and cultural changes which increase things like isolation, anomie, even experiences of depersonalization.

Witnessing of this can be found in our visual arts, our poetry, and our popular music. Let alone our daily confessions to one another.

I'm not speaking here of N.P.D., of course, although perhaps of some of its traits.

But with Schizoid Affective disorder, it's another kettle of fish.

I think there the sociological arguments for post-normalization vis-a-vis previous "social pathology" might be germane.

POST-SCRIPT: Once I used Vaknin's link to the DSM's Nine Criteria for Diagnosing N.P.D. and read those, I realized what I had already known before this weird jag of doubt tonight: I don't have N.P.D. I know I have exceptional abilities in certain areas of my intellectual life, and I know how much I waste those exceptional abilities. I don't feel very highly realized (actualized, to use the jargon) and I don't feel resentful for that lack of realization, or blame others, or feel they owe me anything. I don't despair over this current state of affairs and I do aspire to do better. But I don't feel it's owed to me or that there's any guarantee my abilities can be parlayed into some form of genius or even very useful art. One never knows. Everyone is entitled to believe in the possibility of developing their natural gifts and to look forward to this aspect of one's life and enjoy the process and even experience some pride. There was a link to "healthful narcissis" even on Vaknin's site. I find the creations and gifts of other people fascinating and spend 95% of my time talking about the achievements of others. So no. I'm not N.P.D. I'm bad on empathy when seen from outside, but not because I don't feel empathy for other people---because I lack the energy (due to depression and general sluggish health) to always rise to the challenge of being a good, empathetic friend. I avoid people when I feel I don't have the energy to become that friend they deserve on that day. And that is a cowardice. But it's not a superciliousness. Or a heedlessness. Here, one can get argue morality versus pathology but I don't have the energy for it. I can't face Jonathan Edwards in my head tonight. At most I have one, maybe two of those traits. And even those are not pronounced traits in me.

It's just that Vaknin's version of N.P.D. is much enlarged from that presented by that precis in the DSMV (and this diagnosis only recently got recognized--1980--despite the fact that its lineage can be traced back to Freud's landmark book on the subject from 1915).

So reading Vaknin's verion of NPD, I began to believe I had it. Just as reading Vaknin's version of Schizoid Affective Disorder, I began to believe I had that too.

It's not that I don't think his work is interesting. I just fear that he might have generalized his own psychological demons into a disorder that may not really match up with a disorder that exists in the DSMV.

I guess the worst aspect of the manic side of my bipolar disorder saw itself mirrored in some of his tantrum-like behaviors. The horrible thing that happens when we're in that state and begin devaluing everything: those we love, strangers, art, everything. The ceaseless negativity and bile and hate that can come out of the horrible feelings of insecurity and paranoia that snake out their tentacles into one's mind in that state.

And then the ridiculous "counterattacks" of bipolar rage. When there was NO ATTACK to begin with.

And the embarrassment and guilt and cycle of shame that follows these attacks.

But where I think his writing is valuable is where he writes about the lack of identity experienced by sufferers of his version of N.P.D.

Because, ultimately many bipolars are left with that same lack of stable identity. Identity can feel sorely lacking. Often, we are drawn to art and processes which mimic our own psychic fragmentation. And for those of us born or growing up in the postmodern, technophilic era, this camouflaging medium isn't hard to find. It's like the Replicants in the movie Blade Runner. Once sensed those cities were the right places for them to hide.

And the infantilization thing he mentions. That happens in bipolar disorder too.

One infantilizes oneself by creating gods of those one attacks.

I'm not trying to introduce a grandiosity here by the comparison, but what else is behind Sylvia Plath's The Colossus. I'm speaking of the title poem of that collection. But again and again the poet is infantilized by her rage.

And yet by the act of her suicide, she reconstitutes a similar god of "silent" power for her children, ex-husband and other family members to face.

I'm probably thinking of her and her connection to this sort of pathology because of that article in The Nation I linked to earlier tonight (see previous post).

But with regard to the self-inflected, post-tantrum infantilization...

One now prostates onself before one's past. In its abstract or concrete forms.

It would be funny, this situation, if seen from the outside, if one didn't feel these things so deeply, because one was burrowed inside the horror of the process.

And just as he very knowingly (and scathingly) writes that forgiveness and understanding is not to be forthcoming to the NPD-sufferer once moments of enlightement are achieved, it's usually the same fate for the bipolar now forced to face the consequences for the actions committed or the words spoken during his or her manic (rage) state.

And as with Plath's Colossus, that monstrous sculpture through whose hollowness she goes talking and cleaning, kneeling and scraping, turned drudge, turned domestic, the thing just seems to grow larger and larger while we continue to shrink.

In Fair Verona Where We Lay Our Kittehs...


The Thing about Murder and Succinylcholine

I just rewatched an episode of one of those true crime shows on Investigation Discovery and was left with just a little sense of unease about the outcome of this "murder" case.

This is the one which deals with the death (homicide? suicide? neither?) of controversial politico Kathy Augustine.

Her death had originally been ruled a heart attack, even though there had been no previous indication of heart disease. Doubtless, she had been under a tremendous amount of stress. See her bio. I suppose the initial hypothesis had been that she had succumbed to a heart attack precipitated by stress related to her impeachment proceedings (Augustine was acquitted of the most significant charge) and the other political problems--including alleged death threats from fellow Republicans--she had faced near the end of her life.

But later a homicide case was worked up and successfully prosecuted based on the supposition that her then-husband, Chas Higgs, had injected her with a lethal dose of succinylcholine. If he did, was this against her will? Possibly by her request? Did she inject herself? So many questions. Augustine was certainly facing dark days and an uncertain future in a field where she functioned in a positively ravenous manner. Augustine was a political shark. Even her closest f make no bones about that.

I'm wondering if this homicide charge could be dubious.

Because there was another journalistic true crime show on this same network in which a physician husband (read down to Dershowitz's statements on Dr. Sybers in this late 2011 article from The Nation) had been convicted of his wife's homicide--ruled death by succinylcholine injection--and then later the FBI did research which invalidated the toxicological findings in that trial (and a great many other trials besides!) The manner of death was revised to either "undetermined" or "natural causes." By this time, it was too late for the convicted doctor, who had pleaded to some sort of special circumstance "no contest." But it was doubly "too late" for this physician, as he had died of lung cancer by the time this all shook out.

The viewer was left dangling on the threads of uncertainty. The FBI's toxicologists did not give a detailed explanation of why they had reversed their verdict in that particular case (and many related cases).

The question was raised whether succinylcholine was naturally produced in the body after death (or before death?!). I mean whether it was produced in doses sufficient enough to foul test results and make moot the question of intentional poisoning in many cases. (The article I linked to above indicates it can be found endogenously due to diet alone.) They didn't get very specific with the chemistry. Maybe it's an incredibly tricky threshold--finessing the call.

Of course, finding an injection site during an autopsy when there should be none, and having a husband who works in a medical field and/or has access to this drug could still be a combination of circumstances that raise the possibility of death by succinylcholine poisoning when toxicology points that direction. And I think all these circumstances applied in the Kathy Augustine case.

Going by instinct, I'll admit her husband struck me as innocent. But I've been fooled by telegenic sociopaths in these shows before. Generally, my "sociopathdar" is pretty good. But I've seen a few who can dissimulate so well it's horrifying.

The man did try to kill himself in a manner that didn't look "faked" before his trial. But then many homicidal husbands will choose this over jail. He said he was doing it to "join her." Yes, possibly this was a saccharine sympathy sop thrown out for sloppy journalists to lap up. So maybe I shouldn't put too much weight on that. Or maybe it was a sincere sentiment. Maybe he did kill her but now he felt guilty. There are a number of possible reasons for the desperate act (or attempted act, to speak more precisely). I guess it would depend on the psychology of the individual (determined by assaying past behavior). Overall, from what little I could glean of Higgs' behavior, I'm guessing he does suffer from a personality disorder, and most likely either borderline personality disorder or narcissistic personality disorder. Either one of those conditions could have set the stage for a murder, when you factor in the personality traits of the couple. Augustine's "high achiever" status would act very antagonistically on a somewhat average man afflicted by either of those personality disorders (and especially borderline, where the fluxuation in valuation of others can be so violently extreme). If it's more a matter of the narcissitic personality disorder, his ego could have been thrown dangerously out of balance once he lost the adulation he apparently enjoyed in sexual promiscuity.

But did he actually kill her?

I guess it comes down to whether that injection site was an accurate call by the autopsist (and whether that was something done by her husband, Chas Higgs, and done against her will). And it also comes down to whether or not you believe the testimony of Higgs' coworker who stated he had talked about how easy it is to get away with murder when using succinylcholine.

In any case, death by succinylcholine is a very "Poe sort of death."

Because the substance will paralyze your body (and your breathing) while leaving your thought processes perfectly intact for the excruciating six to ten minutes it takes for you to lose consciousness and die.

If There's Choreography

by Jose Montalvo/Dominique Hervieu, it's worth being there.

And green-screening it lol...

Heart Sutra Remixes

One could argue for or against the monotony of the original as essential to the "message" of "messagelessness."

Okay, one form of monotony is replaced with another, really.

Which is concinnity. Because the whole "point" of the "pointlessness" of the sutra is to break the "monotony" of belief in "content" and "form."

In American poetry, the best work I've seen with the Heart Sutra has probably been the series of poems by Jackson Mac Low.

Found out about this cool meme transfiguration on the Know Your Meme section of ICHC.

To give you an idea how well-written and well-researched this subsite of ICHC is, here's an excerpt for this entry:


Heart Sutra Remixes are musical variations of the famous Mahāyāna Buddhist scripture the Heart Sūtra. Since its beginning on the Japanese video sharing service Nico Nico Douga (NND) in September 2010, hundreds of remixed music videos have been uploaded by others in the community.


The Heart Sutra (Chinese: 般若波羅蜜多心經 / Japanese: 般若心経 / Romanized: Hanya Shingyou) is part of the “Perfection of Wisdom” group of Mahāyāna buddhist scriptures and contains the famous paradox phrase “form is emptiness; emptiness is form.” Frequently chanted before and/or after a meditation sitting, it is often considered one of the most well known scriptures in Buddhist literature.[1]

The remixing fad began on September 3rd, 2011 when NND user and Vocaloid artist Onew-P (おにゅうP) posted a video titled “Pop heart Sutra” featuring Hatsune Miku[2]. OWnew-P’s upload has accumulated over 1 million views as of November 16th, 2011.

After Onew-P released a voice sequence file of the Heart Sutra chant for Vocaloid synthesizer, others in the NND community began making their own remixes in a wide range of musical genres, from R&B and Rap to Heavy Metal and Electronica renditions. The fad was reported on the Japanese news sites CloseUp NetTube[3] and MSN Sankei News in Sepetember of of 2010.[4] Several remixes in this series were included in various Vocaloid compilation albums released by the Japanese music label EXIT TUNES in the first half of 2011. More than 300 videos related to the heart sutra have been uploaded to NND[5] as of November 16th, 2011.
Notable Examples

Rock 初音ミクアレンジ「般若心経ロック」[6] / The most viewed remix on NND

Hardcore 【MikuMikuDance】般若心経ハードコア[7] (See also : Miku Miku Dance)

R&B Vocal remix 【halyosy】「般若心経R&B」を歌ってみた【アレンジ】 (PV付き)[8]

Anime OP Style 【初音ミク】般若心経アニメ版OP【アレンジ】[9]

For more videos, browse the video gallery.
Fan Art

Vocaloid artist Hanya-G (はんにゃG) has created several illustrations inspired by the Heart Sutra remix fad.[10]

Other Japanese artists have posted their own illustrations to Pixiv[11], an online art sharing network.

Search Interest

Google Insights for Search
Gadgets powered by Google

External References

Editor’s Note: Registration is needed to browse the original NND videos listed in this section.

[1] Wikipedia – Heart Sutra

[2] Nico Nico Douga – 【初音ミク】般若心経ポップ【PVつき】 / Posted on 09-03-2010

[3] CloseUp NetTube – 思わぬブームに発展!?初音ミクによる般若心経リミックス / 09-06-2010 (Japanese)

[4]MSN Sankei News – 【ネット番記者】ポップな「般若心経」 / 09-16-2010 (Japanese, defunt)

[5] Nico Nico Douga – Search results for 般若心経アレンジリンク

[6] Nico Nico Douga – 初音ミクアレンジ「般若心経ロック」 / Posted on 09-05-2010

[7] Nico Nico Douga – 【halyosy】「般若心経R&B」を歌ってみた【アレンジ】 / Posted on 09-08-2010

[8] Nico Nico Douga – 【MikuMikuDance】般若心経ハードコア / Posted on 10-24-2010

[9] Nico Nico Douga – 【初音ミク】般若心経アニメ版OP【アレンジ】 / Posted on 09-10-2010

[10] pixiv – 【きみだけの】般若心経全景【悟り】」/「はんにゃG @hannyag / Posted on 09-29-2010

[11] pixiv – Search results for 般若心経

Heres'a an "original" exemplar and some nifty updates.

Yes, notice how we're moving toward the ubiquity of the YouTube phenom of chimpunking, especially near the end.

And the most Katy Perry of them lol...

Good Muslim Dude Meme