Maria Bamford is the Best.

“It takes tenacity and courage to use a glue gun, and it’s the easiest thing in the world to criticize stuff. Click, don’t like, boo.

But if you sing out your Batman poetry to a largely hostile Barnes & Noble crowd; or if you crank out a raw, unedited skull of a granny smith apple, pop that on a Bratz doll torso, upload that to Etsy, price it high. If you think of doing a nude clown opera, you write it, you cast it and you actually fucking do it? That doesn’t show you’re insane. It shows the symptoms of being hard-working—and a huge success.

Now if you’ll excuse me,
I need to get back to La Quinta,
because I have faces to make
in the bathroom mirror.”

— Maria Bamford

 

Shut up and cope, you fucking weakling

Frustrated with talk of anxiety and trauma? Think that this generation is full of mewling pussies?

Have I got a rant for you!

If you have said the above sentence to yourself, I’d like to suggest that you’re coming at the sensitivity/politically-correct culture from the wrong direction.

(I offer as my context: I grew up in New York, and I now live in Norcal. My best friends and I say “go fuck yourself” instead of “I love you.”)

The primary goal of sensitivity, inclusion, unpacking, safe spaces, intentional communication, etc. is to to make the world less harsh and scary. In and of itself, that’s not a bad goal.

The process of unpacking all the horrible shit we’ve done to each other as a species is part of achieving that goal — looking personal and institutionalized cruelty (and the banality of evil) in the face and taking ownership of how those systems continue to screw people over.

So we’re looking at everything from considering natural African-American hair “unprofessional,” to quite literally beating each other to death over what… having to piss? Turning down a date? For fuck’s sake.

But sEtSu, everyone’s playing the victim! They use their “anxiety” and “trauma” to take up all the space in the room!

Well, I mean, lots of people have some form of social anxiety, ranging from, I’m a little nervous, I hope my peers like me, to full-blown can’t-go-outside-because-the-world-tried-to-kill-me agoraphobia. Acknowledging these things is usually meant as a way to show vulnerability — to bond — with the people around you. If the psychological vocabulary, or gender-studies vocabulary, or concepts relating to intersectionality are now widely available… why shouldn’t we use them to better understand ourselves and each other?

Especially in a world of social media, where it’s normal to not only air, but curate your thoughts and feelings. Our inner life is just as much on display as the clothes and cars of yesteryear. The thought police have nothing on social currency.

It’s also why you can’t really compare today’s struggles with the Victorian era, or WWII, because the stakes are so different. We can’t abstain from being online, from participating, because we’ll lose currency. On top of that, internet records are forever; and likely something your bosses and lovers (and now, possibly children?) will find.

Consider also the heightened insanity created by political echo chambers; pushing us further to one side or another in any game that has stakes… On top of terrorism, which is perpetuated somewhat by bombs, and much more by our media and government. There’s nowhere to run from any of this. We can’t avoid being online, and Syria is online. France is online. Nigeria is online. Radicals of all sorts are readily available 24/7, and we’re all watching each other.

I’m not saying the internet is the cause of our so-called fragility; but it’s been absolutely instrumental in changing the way we interact with each other as a people and as a species. The language is also changing and evolving incredibly fast. I’ve started seeing CW (content warnings) instead of TW (trigger warnings) to more accurately convey the purpose of the note.

As connective as this is, we could (and do) readily use that kind of information to exploit one another socially, emotionally, physically. We’re that much more on our guard for harm, because it can come from so many directions, with great intensity, at any time. We live in a world where you can get booed off stage by thousands of people from the comfort of your own living room.

It’s like that nude photo leak a few years ago. Some argue that the starlet shouldn’t have taken the photos, but they were stolen and distributed without her consent. Take a second to consider what you’re arguing in favor of. A kinder, gentler world wouldn’t slut-shame.

In my opinion, without shame, there’d be more orgasms for everyone. If they want them. No requirement either way. Consent. Vulnerability. Safety. It’s all good.

If someone cops to the fact that they feel off, and as such, are likely to do awkward things (like be insulting or draining, which is an honest mistake), surely you have as much ability to say, “it’s not my preference to shoulder that kind of vulnerability. Can we shift to a different topic?” Which lends itself to that kinder, gentler world folks are aiming for.

“Shut up and cope” is perfectly reasonable for some. Often, it’s exactly what I need to hear to pull myself out of a funk. For others, it leads to a sense of isolation, projecting, bad temper, alcoholism or other crutches, suicide, etc.

So I mean… it’s all about choice, spotlight or no, right?

Still annoyed?

Quit whining, whiner. Go for a walk or something, damn.

Container Store Visualization

During one of the last coping skills classes, the instructor took us to the container store (visualization meditation. I like going places in my brainspace). She told us to pick out a container. Could be a tupperware, could be a shoebox, anything that catches your eye. Then we had to put something in it, and put the box somewhere, to help shelve the problem in the event we’re not really able to deal with it right now. Some of my classmates put their containers under the bed, or buried under flowers in the backyard, or shipped it around the world so that they’d have a few months before it was returned to sender.

I picked a stone urn, where the lid was held in place by the clamped jaws of five dragons, then I threw it off a cliff and into the sea. We’re coming up on a year since that shitstorm. There are some riddles about it I haven’t solved yet, but rather than 30% brainspace I’m about ready to give it 2%, then maybe 1%, and hopefully, eventually, archive it entirely unless it’s absolutely relevant.

There is no “back to normal,” just the new normal.

 

Today holds:
Finishing touches on the script
Consultation with a game designer
Short story revisions
Probably brownies and wine.

I really wish it would rain.

 

P.S. one of my friends joked, “imagine finding that on a beach.” There’s a story seed for you.

Don’t Ruin Your Life (Today)

Supposed to be studying something else last night but decided to watch a documentary on H.R. Giger instead.

I wonder if, to really dive deep into story and borrowed/vicarious/masked/translated experience… One needs to develop comfort with the subject matter. Or if one can go there while, or because, they are deeply uncomfortable.

Maybe, if you can’t do it sober, you can’t do it.

Got to chatting with a buddy with whom I share some of the same, shall we say vices. It was comforting, because it made me feel like less of a freak; but also discomforting, because it reinforced the boundaries of what is acceptable and unacceptable.

And why, based on how many steps we can take toward manifesting real-life nightmares just to give me something to claw through.

Looking at Giger’s art in Giger’s house, the omnipresence of Eros and Thanatos, got me to thinking about vices, addictions, and fascinations — and how deeply they’re ingrained into who we are. They indicate something vital, maybe not what kind of life we want; but what we want to use our lives to explore.

It’s up to us how we channel those frustrations and fascinations.

Which makes me wonder if procrastination and alcoholism function the same way, and if mastering both is something we have to take one day at a time.

As my brother says, “don’t ruin your life today.”

Karelia lives (again) at Grimdark Magazine

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Grimdark Magazine Issue #8 is live for e-book purchase.

Short fiction includes…

  • Viva Longevicus by Brandon Daubs
  • Burying the Coin by Setsu Uzume
  • A Proper War by James A. Moore
  • The Price of Honour by Matthew Ward

Non-fiction content is as follows:

  • Is the Alien Trilogy Grimdark? by C.T. Phipps
  • Series Review: Acts of Caine by Matthew Stover (review by Matthew Cropley)
  • An Interview with Dennis L. McKiernan by Tom Smith
  • Review: The Wheel of Osheim by Mark Lawrence (review by Matthew Cropley)
  • Review: Wolfenstein by C.T. Phipps
  • An Interview with Jesse Bullington (Alex MarshallI by Adrian Collins

If you’d like to purchase this on Amazon, you can use their AFFILIATE LINK.

For more news on the sub-genre, check out their Facebook page, and their Twitter @AdrianGdMag 

Guest Post up at Warpworld

Author Kristene Perron is one of the most genuine individuals I’ve ever met. As part of the launch of the fourth book in the Warpworld series, Perron and a number of other authors will dive deep into the concept of loss. How we cope, how we process, and what part loss plays in a story. She writes:

In a world that at times feels obsessed with having more, more, more, it is intriguing to see how much we gain when something is taken away, pulled from us against our will. The characters in the Warpworld series lose their freedom, their beliefs, their privilege, their homes, their families, and yet somehow, as Lois McMaster Bujold so beautifully expresses in her novel Memory, they “go on”. In the weeks to come, we’ll introduce you to some amazing real life people who have found their own way through loss, their own way to “go on”.

I had the honor of writing the first guest post on the subject. Here’s an excerpt:

For all my unpublished short fiction, I can pinpoint where I was when I wrote the story and who I wrote it for. The names and places change. They’re overlaid with magic and technology, separated by eons of time and light-years of space; but the feelings never change. Lost love still hurts. Lost family cannot be replaced. Choices cannot be unmade and death cannot be undone. When someone or something I love disappears, and there are thousands of words left unsaid, I have to put them somewhere.
Read the full article here.

Link! Frida Kahlo: Abjection, Psychic Deadness, and the Creative Impulse

There’s a quote going around, (You deserve a lover who wants you disheveled… etc.) attributed to Frida Kahlo, that doesn’t sound like something she said. It was too tidy… too abstract. It might have been her, I don’t know, I haven’t really studied her.

I looked around for the source of this quote, and couldn’t find one; but I did find her love letters. They affected me. Not in that they were lush, elegantly raw, and moving (which they were), but in the sense that I didn’t feel anything when I read them. I started to cry, because I couldn’t find it in me to feel something. I couldn’t access the part of my spirit that gives and receives passion on that level; but I remembered when I could.

Being cut off from that sucks.

Landing in that emotional oubliette, and not quite knowing how to climb back out, I figured I should keep looking through the library while I’m down here. I found this paper about Kahlo and the relationship between personal desolation and art. I really liked it, so I’m re-posting it here in the hopes to keep it bookmarked.

 

“Kristeva states that all objects are based on an inaugural loss, that laid the foundations of subjectivity. All abjection is in fact recognition of the want on which any being, meaning, language, or desire is founded.

Abjection summons us to an abyss that haunts and terrifies. It insists on the subject’s necessary relation to death, corporeality, animality, materiality,’ those relations which consciousness and reason find intolerable. The abject attests to the impossibility of clear borders, lines of demarcation or divisions between the proper and the improper, the clean and the unclean, order and disorder…

It exposes us to the unbearable, unnameable, and unwanted dimensions of our mortality, an exposure against which we rebel.”

Read the full paper: Frida Kahlo: Abjection, Psychic Deadness, and the Creative Impulse, by Marlene Goldsmith, Ph.D.