{∅, {∅}, {∅, {∅}}} : Rage Against the Meat Grinder

Stanhope criticizes "Rehabs" and those who make a living off the fraud of "substance-abuse" treatment.




He chooses alcohol as his higher power.  I'm anti-AA and I'm not even trying to drink.





Did I mention I am an ape?

I can't even talk to a human being who denies they are a species of ape.

"Life ... is a mirror ... of CONFUSION ..."

right on

We can see that this guy has a good sense of humor and is almost playing the role of deranged freak.  I get it.  Maybe playing the baboon is the best way to go when you are being targeted for mockery anyway.

I can see how someone might become indifferent.

It helps if we are indifferent to public opinion.

dead serious comedy?

 

As contradictory and politically incorrect as it may sound to the "behavioral health technicians," I have found that, if a few people are all feeling suicidal, that joking about it can actually alleviate the despair and the distress.

There is a reason why certain religious folks are anti-intellectual.  There is no benefit to thinking too deeply about our existential predicament.  It does not help.

And yet, those of us who, as Schopenhauer said, rub the sleep from our eyes and really wonder what is going on,  don't seem to have a choice in the matter.  We have an excess of consciousness, and this may not only get in the way of living, but it may cause distress to others who encounter us.   We may have a disturbing effect on others' "psychological equilibrium".

And so we learn to endure ourselves and readily forgive others for wanting nothing to do with us.  It's just as well since we have learned that we can only be authentic in solitude.  It is then that we do not have to apologize to anyone for our bad moods or our antisocial tendency to think too much or to see things as they are.

There is a gap to be filled:  dead serious comedy.

Maybe we can become the philosophical comedians who do not rely on "jokes", but instead, simply speak the truth.  Speaking the truth, even if it is a horrible truth, might hold a certain key to humor.

Maybe we can develop the capacity to find ourselves ridiculous - not just our "selves" as individuals with strange personalities, but as a species.  Nay, not only as a ridiculous species, but ridiculous across the board and universally as organisms, as creatures who crawl out of vaginas ...

If we can learn to smirk or grin in the face of our predicament, then we might stand a chance of getting the joke that life is.

Of course, getting one's balls shot off or ripped of by the teeth of a dog is certainly not a joke.  There is great potential for horrendous skull-crushing pain, so I would not feel comfortable to project myself as a comedian.

I would be a very sad comedian, in deed - as many who claim to be comedians must be, after all.

Add a little liquor to my system, and POOF, I transform into a comedian; but, without Satan's P-I-S-S, I am merely an aging student struggling through yet another of the finite amount of math problems I will encounter before the worms crawl through my empty skull.