hello-SMITHERS-you're-quite-GOOD-at-TURNING-me-ON (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} mykwud) wrote,@ 2004-10-07 10:11:00 |
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HAW-haw!
Recently, while at a fancy black-tie dinner party at the Royal Ontario Museum to celebrate the upcoming construction of their Michael A. Lee-Ching Crystal, I had a rather interesting chat with Studio 2's Steve Paikin and celebrated author Daniel Richler. What had started as me merely giving Dan a few well-received tips for his upcoming novel on impoverished street-urchins in 1980's Ottawa eventually morphed into a full-blown conversation about the very nature of depression and what it might mean to be depressed in such a modern era of leisure and luxury. Sadly, well-adjusted affluent gentlemen like ourselves would likely never know, so I went back to letting Margaret Atwood compliment me yet-again on my recent Juno award.
As the gala evening drew to a close, and I strolled out onto Bloor Street after selflessly wiping drool off the jacket of a passed-out drunk Maury Chaykin, I got to thinking about all the many equally well-adjusted, happy, non-insecure friends I've been truly blessed to know in real-life, and how so many of them would have their equally-perfect worlds TURNED UPSIDE-DOWN if they caught even a fleeting glimpse of...
PEOPLE ON THE INTERNET.
Yes, it's true. Since happily jumping aboard the blogging-world almost two years ago, eager to share my many wonderful adventures with you all, I've come to the SHOCKING conclusion that there are some seriously bummed-out people here on ye olde informatione-superhighwaye. They post cryptic one-line entries like "You confuse me..." and "I don't know... I just don't know....." without any helpful Cole's Notes to decode their meaningless psychobabble. They constantly post entries containing nothing but SONG LYRICS from some emo-band-of-the-month who are clearly writing those songs for them and them alone. They occasionally post things like "I'm going to kill myself right this very second", but choose to leave the Comments field disabled so that none of us can have ANY SAY IN THE MATTER. Hey, haven't you heard of a DEMCORACY? I guess not, CHAIRMAN MAO!!!
These few observations alone have been MEDICALLY PROVEN to add-up to "C.I.D.", or what the experts are calling "Chronic Internet Depression". It's true! Just ask Dr. Saddy McCriesenstein from the Department Of Depressology at Wahhh U., and she'll tell you:
"Buried deep as you can dig inside yourself, and covered with a perfect shell, such a charming beautiful exterior. Laced with brilliant smiles and shining eyes, perfect posture, but you're barely scraping by, but you're barely scraping by. This is one time, this is one time that you can't fake it hard enough to please everyone or anyone at all, or anyone at all. And the grave that you refuse to leave the refuge that you've built to flee the places you have come to fear the most. It's the place that you have come to fear the most. Buried deep as you can dig inside yourself, and hidden in the public eye. Such a stellar monument to loneliness. Laced with brilliant smiles and shining eyes and perfect makeup but you're barely scraping by but you're barely scraping by. This is one time, this is one time that you can't fake it hard enough to please everyone or anyone at all, or anyone at all. And the grave that you refuse to leave, the refuge that you've built to flee the places that you've come to fear the most. It's the place that you have come to fear the most. And you cant fake it hard enough to please everyone or anyone at all, or anyone at all. And the grave that you refuse to leave the refuge that you've built to flee the places that you've come to fear the most. Its the place that you have come to fear the most, its the place that you have come to fear the most."
Thanks, doc. That was a huge help.
But, ponder, all of you, for a moment; what if people this depressed actually existed... IN THE REAL WORLD?!?!? They could be out there walking amongst us JUST NOW. Crying on the INSIDE, those sneaky bastards!!!, instead of so-obviously doing it on the outside like they always show us in movies and TV shows. Like in that one episode of Friends when Chandler thought he lost Monica forever. That was sooo emotional!
Anyway, I was recently fortunate enough to stumble upon some stranger's "journal" in an obviously-trash-bound box of books left on the curb on Brunswick Avenue while walking to Future Bakery one sunny afternoon. If you've never heard of a "journal", then prepare to have your minds blown... it's JUST like LiveJournal, but REAL!!! Meaning, it exists in the REAL WORLD and instead of TYPED, the entries can be written-in using a common pencil or pen.
The journal dates back to 1995, seemingly once owned by a "Ted" or "Tom", last name possibly "Dalibor", although each of those names is used in such a cryptic self-referential way that it could very well be none of them. Perhaps this lonely sad-sack is an old friend of Johnny Marr and recently released a new solo album titled "You Are The Quarry", featuring the new hit single "Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now (Because Some Lady In The Eaton Centre Made Me Feel Confused)". I just don't know. Outside of an old address on Dovercourt, it's impossible to discern anything more about this mystery-author. Except for the fact that he's FUCKING HILARIOUS! :D
(Yeah, but can Natalie play a "G" as well as you & your good buddy Bob?)
"Make a point to her that I'm insecure and need to be reassured of her affections every day"?!? LOSER ALERT!!! Yeah, Ted/Tom, girls LOVE hearing that. "Spinelessness" is the "new black", I'm told!
At this point, John just HAD to call everyone he knows to continue reading the ensuing hilarity over an umpteen-way conference call.
HA-HA!!!
Recently, while at a fancy black-tie dinner party at the Royal Ontario Museum to celebrate the upcoming construction of their Michael A. Lee-Ching Crystal, I had a rather interesting chat with Studio 2's Steve Paikin and celebrated author Daniel Richler. What had started as me merely giving Dan a few well-received tips for his upcoming novel on impoverished street-urchins in 1980's Ottawa eventually morphed into a full-blown conversation about the very nature of depression and what it might mean to be depressed in such a modern era of leisure and luxury. Sadly, well-adjusted affluent gentlemen like ourselves would likely never know, so I went back to letting Margaret Atwood compliment me yet-again on my recent Juno award.
As the gala evening drew to a close, and I strolled out onto Bloor Street after selflessly wiping drool off the jacket of a passed-out drunk Maury Chaykin, I got to thinking about all the many equally well-adjusted, happy, non-insecure friends I've been truly blessed to know in real-life, and how so many of them would have their equally-perfect worlds TURNED UPSIDE-DOWN if they caught even a fleeting glimpse of...
PEOPLE ON THE INTERNET.
Yes, it's true. Since happily jumping aboard the blogging-world almost two years ago, eager to share my many wonderful adventures with you all, I've come to the SHOCKING conclusion that there are some seriously bummed-out people here on ye olde informatione-superhighwaye. They post cryptic one-line entries like "You confuse me..." and "I don't know... I just don't know....." without any helpful Cole's Notes to decode their meaningless psychobabble. They constantly post entries containing nothing but SONG LYRICS from some emo-band-of-the-month who are clearly writing those songs for them and them alone. They occasionally post things like "I'm going to kill myself right this very second", but choose to leave the Comments field disabled so that none of us can have ANY SAY IN THE MATTER. Hey, haven't you heard of a DEMCORACY? I guess not, CHAIRMAN MAO!!!These few observations alone have been MEDICALLY PROVEN to add-up to "C.I.D.", or what the experts are calling "Chronic Internet Depression". It's true! Just ask Dr. Saddy McCriesenstein from the Department Of Depressology at Wahhh U., and she'll tell you:
"Buried deep as you can dig inside yourself, and covered with a perfect shell, such a charming beautiful exterior. Laced with brilliant smiles and shining eyes, perfect posture, but you're barely scraping by, but you're barely scraping by. This is one time, this is one time that you can't fake it hard enough to please everyone or anyone at all, or anyone at all. And the grave that you refuse to leave the refuge that you've built to flee the places you have come to fear the most. It's the place that you have come to fear the most. Buried deep as you can dig inside yourself, and hidden in the public eye. Such a stellar monument to loneliness. Laced with brilliant smiles and shining eyes and perfect makeup but you're barely scraping by but you're barely scraping by. This is one time, this is one time that you can't fake it hard enough to please everyone or anyone at all, or anyone at all. And the grave that you refuse to leave, the refuge that you've built to flee the places that you've come to fear the most. It's the place that you have come to fear the most. And you cant fake it hard enough to please everyone or anyone at all, or anyone at all. And the grave that you refuse to leave the refuge that you've built to flee the places that you've come to fear the most. Its the place that you have come to fear the most, its the place that you have come to fear the most."Thanks, doc. That was a huge help.
But, ponder, all of you, for a moment; what if people this depressed actually existed... IN THE REAL WORLD?!?!? They could be out there walking amongst us JUST NOW. Crying on the INSIDE, those sneaky bastards!!!, instead of so-obviously doing it on the outside like they always show us in movies and TV shows. Like in that one episode of Friends when Chandler thought he lost Monica forever. That was sooo emotional!
Anyway, I was recently fortunate enough to stumble upon some stranger's "journal" in an obviously-trash-bound box of books left on the curb on Brunswick Avenue while walking to Future Bakery one sunny afternoon. If you've never heard of a "journal", then prepare to have your minds blown... it's JUST like LiveJournal, but REAL!!! Meaning, it exists in the REAL WORLD and instead of TYPED, the entries can be written-in using a common pencil or pen.
The journal dates back to 1995, seemingly once owned by a "Ted" or "Tom", last name possibly "Dalibor", although each of those names is used in such a cryptic self-referential way that it could very well be none of them. Perhaps this lonely sad-sack is an old friend of Johnny Marr and recently released a new solo album titled "You Are The Quarry", featuring the new hit single "Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now (Because Some Lady In The Eaton Centre Made Me Feel Confused)". I just don't know. Outside of an old address on Dovercourt, it's impossible to discern anything more about this mystery-author. Except for the fact that he's FUCKING HILARIOUS! :D
Let's take a look, shall we?
(Yeah, but can Natalie play a "G" as well as you & your good buddy Bob?)
"Make a point to her that I'm insecure and need to be reassured of her affections every day"?!? LOSER ALERT!!! Yeah, Ted/Tom, girls LOVE hearing that. "Spinelessness" is the "new black", I'm told!
At this point, John just HAD to call everyone he knows to continue reading the ensuing hilarity over an umpteen-way conference call.
