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Hey Professor, It's Not So Bad Down Here.

Started by The Good Reverend Roger, December 14, 2009, 09:04:31 PM

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Requia ☣

#15
December 16, 2009, 05:38:51 PM
I'm still trying to figure out what you found that's weirder than tapeworm fetishists.

I'm terrified of the answer.  But I have to know.
Inflatable dolls are not recognized flotation devices.

The Good Reverend Roger

#16
December 16, 2009, 05:40:17 PM
Quote from: Requia ☣ on December 16, 2009, 05:38:51 PM
I'm still trying to figure out what you found that's weirder than tapeworm fetishists.

I'm terrified of the answer.  But I have to know.

You'll have to wait.

I'm not giving away anything ahead of time.
" It's just that Depeche Mode were a bunch of optimistic loveburgers."
- TGRR, shaming himself forever, 7/8/2017

"Billy, when I say that ethics is our number one priority and safety is also our number one priority, you should take that to mean exactly what I said. Also quality. That's our number one priority as well. Don't look at me that way, you're in the corporate world now and this is how it works."
- TGRR, raising the bar at work.

Requia ☣

#17
December 16, 2009, 05:41:40 PM
Take as long as you need.  I'll be relishing my last few weeks of sanity.
Inflatable dolls are not recognized flotation devices.

Captain Utopia

#18
December 16, 2009, 08:13:33 PM Last Edit: December 16, 2009, 08:15:09 PM by FP
Why did that mother, until she died aged 87, keep vacuuming the dust every day from her missing childs bedroom? Well I have a theory, and if you want to call her "crazy" then fine, but you're missing the point.

The article droned on about the fact that she would religiously freshen the flowers was every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, weather and health permitting. As if it was an obvious failed test of her sanity. But if you'd read the book you'd know that the flowers started arriving after the "official verdict" was announced, though she could tell from the way folk avoided her eyes that no one was at that point surprised. What to do with so many flowers when there's only so many rooms that can do with brightening?

There was one room she hadn't entered, not since he had first gone missing, but since the flowers were for him anyway she said she thought it would be alright to cross that barrier she had made for herself. She refused a grave as to her it was giving up hope, which she could never do entirely, and so his room became the most suitable joint memorial and "welcome back home" she could think of.

But the people needed closure, do you understand? And so they told her that she had done everything they could. Raping her with kindness their smooth and calming voices rasped about "conclusive evidence" and "confessions" and how she should just accept the fact that he was almost certainly buried with the others.

She just wasn't ready yet though - and can you blame her? Huddled in the dark, back against the wall, their voices haunted her still. So she turned on his wireless radio, and found some temporary relief.

Basically though, she just spent more and more time in there, the radio was eventually replaced by a small television. She had a reclinable chair delivered up there and pretended not to notice the strange looks given off by the delivery men. It gradually became a second living room for herself, a place where she could relive some of her happiest memories by simply looking into the untouched corner of his room and closing her eyes. When that wasn't enough, she distracted herself as best she could. She projected her life onto the glowing box, and it projected reality right back for her.

I mean she still chaired the local Canasta club well into her 70s and maintained both an active social life and a close circle of friends, but she held this shameful secret of "weird". She would have taken it to her grave as well if it wasn't for her sudden decline - well after her day-nurse had moved her downstairs and swore she didn't know how Mrs Thomson had made it up, that's where they found her body - collapsed under the recliner she had been trying to push out of the doorway. Of course, the article made fun of this, asking where she was going to hide it.. but I think she would have managed if her body hadn't given out at the last - she sounds like a she was a very resourceful woman.

Apparently though, this lady fits the socially acceptable definition of crazy, and why is that? Can it really be just because most people are so afraid to admit to to the farcical con we live in, that we need to create enough new classes of crazy to make everything else seem relatively normal? It feels like we're rushing the decks to balance out a sinking ship!

Admit it, we all made her crazy.



I mean look - we are the "acceptable normal" who will put a Burger King in your fucking parking garage just in case you can't wait to get to the food court, or perhaps because just on a whim you decide you want carbon monoxcide poisioning with that.

And will you quit yammering on about an "exit sign" because you're distracting me from all the bargins I've been told I'm missing out on. Exit to what anyway? What could feel more real than this? Ah, nevermind.

Reginald Ret

#19
December 16, 2009, 08:44:03 PM
Quote from: FP on December 16, 2009, 08:13:33 PM
Why did that mother, until she died aged 87, keep vacuuming the dust every day from her missing childs bedroom? Well I have a theory, and if you want to call her "crazy" then fine, but you're missing the point.

The article droned on about the fact that she would religiously freshen the flowers was every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, weather and health permitting. As if it was an obvious failed test of her sanity. But if you'd read the book you'd know that the flowers started arriving after the "official verdict" was announced, though she could tell from the way folk avoided her eyes that no one was at that point surprised. What to do with so many flowers when there's only so many rooms that can do with brightening?

There was one room she hadn't entered, not since he had first gone missing, but since the flowers were for him anyway she said she thought it would be alright to cross that barrier she had made for herself. She refused a grave as to her it was giving up hope, which she could never do entirely, and so his room became the most suitable joint memorial and "welcome back home" she could think of.

But the people needed closure, do you understand? And so they told her that she had done everything they could. Raping her with kindness their smooth and calming voices rasped about "conclusive evidence" and "confessions" and how she should just accept the fact that he was almost certainly buried with the others.

She just wasn't ready yet though - and can you blame her? Huddled in the dark, back against the wall, their voices haunted her still. So she turned on his wireless radio, and found some temporary relief.

Basically though, she just spent more and more time in there, the radio was eventually replaced by a small television. She had a reclinable chair delivered up there and pretended not to notice the strange looks given off by the delivery men. It gradually became a second living room for herself, a place where she could relive some of her happiest memories by simply looking into the untouched corner of his room and closing her eyes. When that wasn't enough, she distracted herself as best she could. She projected her life onto the glowing box, and it projected reality right back for her.

I mean she still chaired the local Canasta club well into her 70s and maintained both an active social life and a close circle of friends, but she held this shameful secret of "weird". She would have taken it to her grave as well if it wasn't for her sudden decline - well after her day-nurse had moved her downstairs and swore she didn't know how Mrs Thomson had made it up, that's where they found her body - collapsed under the recliner she had been trying to push out of the doorway. Of course, the article made fun of this, asking where she was going to hide it.. but I think she would have managed if her body hadn't given out at the last - she sounds like a she was a very resourceful woman.

Apparently though, this lady fits the socially acceptable definition of crazy, and why is that? Can it really be just because most people are so afraid to admit to to the farcical con we live in, that we need to create enough new classes of crazy to make everything else seem relatively normal? It feels like we're rushing the decks to balance out a sinking ship!

Admit it, we all made her crazy.



I mean look - we are the "acceptable normal" who will put a Burger King in your fucking parking garage just in case you can't wait to get to the food court, or perhaps because just on a whim you decide you want carbon monoxcide poisioning with that.

And will you quit yammering on about an "exit sign" because you're distracting me from all the bargins I've been told I'm missing out on. Exit to what anyway? What could feel more real than this? Ah, nevermind.
:mittens:
next time you got something like this give it it's own thread.
it deserves it.
Lord Byron: "Those who will not reason, are bigots, those who cannot, are fools, and those who dare not, are slaves."

Nigel saying the wisest words ever uttered: "It's just a suffix."

"The worst forum ever" "The most mediocre forum on the internet" "The dumbest forum on the internet" "The most retarded forum on the internet" "The lamest forum on the internet" "The coolest forum on the internet"

Captain Utopia

#20
December 17, 2009, 02:37:32 AM
Thanks! I considered it, but since the inspiration was the "life is as artificially constructed, dismal and exitless as a parking garage" metaphor, this seemed like the most appropriate place.

The Good Reverend Roger

#21
December 17, 2009, 02:44:09 AM
I liked it.  A bunch.

And who the FUCK puts a damn BURGER KING in a parking garage?
" It's just that Depeche Mode were a bunch of optimistic loveburgers."
- TGRR, shaming himself forever, 7/8/2017

"Billy, when I say that ethics is our number one priority and safety is also our number one priority, you should take that to mean exactly what I said. Also quality. That's our number one priority as well. Don't look at me that way, you're in the corporate world now and this is how it works."
- TGRR, raising the bar at work.

Captain Utopia

#22
December 17, 2009, 03:44:43 AM
Cheers - to be clear the story and image are made up, I just hacked it together in gimp. A quick search didn't find any actual examples, though I bet it's just a matter of time, throw a Gap and Victorias Secret in there and it'd only be slightly less inviting than a regular mall.

Mesozoic Mister Nigel

#23
August 06, 2010, 05:59:08 PM
Bump
"I'm guessing it was January 2007, a meeting in Bethesda, we got a bag of bees and just started smashing them on the desk," Charles Wick said. "It was very complicated."

Cramulus

#24
August 06, 2010, 06:06:42 PM
aahhh I'd been looking for this!  :mrgreen:

The Good Reverend Roger

#25
November 22, 2010, 02:32:14 AM
Bump for further use.
" It's just that Depeche Mode were a bunch of optimistic loveburgers."
- TGRR, shaming himself forever, 7/8/2017

"Billy, when I say that ethics is our number one priority and safety is also our number one priority, you should take that to mean exactly what I said. Also quality. That's our number one priority as well. Don't look at me that way, you're in the corporate world now and this is how it works."
- TGRR, raising the bar at work.
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