Friday, December 03, 2021


Years ago, there was a popular self-help art book called The Artist's Way. Its ritual prescribed a mental dredging where you journaled for three pages first thing every morning. By this method, you would supposedly scoop away the garbage floating in your mind, and then your subconscious would be free to be more creative. This blog can serve that function for me to a degree. We do now live in an age where anything you say can and forever will be used against you in a court of public opinion, unless you're willing to process through the streets as you smack yourself in the face with a block of wood, begging for forgiveness - but I digress.

I can force myself to write about all the usual political hypocrisies and outrages, but I'm honestly not in the mood. The battle of the sexes? More hypocrisy and outrage. Pop culture? It just goes back to the hypocrisies and outrages of politics and the battle of the sexes.

Instead, let's have some fun. I'm going to open a random article, and put my finger on a word: "said," no, that's no good... "found," no... "may,"... "stolen!" Okay, that's good. Now a second one. Different article. "Clinic." Okay, that one was pretty easy: stolen, and clinic.

Random simile time.

You know, running a health clinic is a lot like stealing. First of all, the clinics often ransack patients for some sort of bodily fluid. Urine, blood, semen... oh sure, the doctors CLAIM that they're performing some sort of tests on them, but how do you really know? They could just be googling your basic symptoms, and diagnosing you based on that, if you're lucky. Furthermore, you're actually paying them for the privilege of pilfering your fluids. You have no idea what they're doing with them. They could be drinking them, cloning you, sprinkling your DNA at a crime scene, using them as eucharist in some sort of bizarre sexual pagan ritual involving The Gotham City Cheerleaders and penguins dressed as Elvis, which - despite plundering your precious bodily fluids - they don't even have the decency to invite you to. The mind boggles at the possibilities.

And how about mental health clinics? Every day they rob patients of their psychosis, dreams, hopes, fears, and anxieties - once again at the patient's own expense. But to what end? Inspiration for manga comics? Do they sell them on the black market to the media to use as ways to make us more anxious, angry, and upset, so that we'll purchase more vibrating vacuum attachments and other such comfort items? (Fnord!) Insert them orally into the audio canals of begging masochists? Sell them to supervillains to use for ammo in their mass-hypnosis rays?

It's high time the governments of the world got off of their collective complacent asses, and did something about it.


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