The Greats

A setting sun captured in the Shan hai Guan Drydock

Best Of My Love

I still can't imagine a song written so long ago can be so true for me...

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Carlinspeak

Ladies First

I notice a lot of this "comedy" they have on television is about relationships. Do you ever see this stuff? Relationship comedy? Well, I don't know much about relationships, but over the years I've noticed a few things about the two sexes, and I'd like to discuss them. 

Men and women:the big,hairy, noisy male creatures, and the smaller, smoother, but nonetheless also quite noisy, female creatures.

Here's all you need to know about men and women: Women are crazy, men are stupid.

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And the main reason women are crazy is that men are stupid. It's not the only reason, but it's a big one.

And by the way, if you don't think men are stupid, check the newspaper. Ninety-nine percent of all the truly horrifying shit going on in this world was initiated, established, perpetrated, enabled or continued by men. And that includes the wave and the high five, two of history his truly low points.

But as I say, besides knowing that men are stupid, it's also important to remember that women are crazy. And if you don't think women are crazy, ask a man. That's the one thing men aren't stupid about; they know for sure, way down deep in their hearts, that women are straight-out fuckin nuts.

But it doesn't just happen; it isn't an accident. Women have good reason to be nuts, the main one being that in the course of life, compared with men, they have far more to put up with; they bear greater burdens. Think of it this way: In the Big Cosmic Cafeteria, as human beings move down the chow line of life and reach that section where the shit is being spooned out, women are given several extra portions.

And please understand, my motives here are not selfish or personal. I'm not saying all this stuff to get in good with women although an occasional blow job would be nice. But it's not a requirement. It's optional.

 BJO: Blow Job Optional. No, I just think it should be evident to

any person who's being honest and thinking clearly that women carry a lot more of life's baggage than men.

To begin with, they're smaller and weaker, so they get slapped, punched, raped, abused and, in general, get the shit beaten out of them on a rather regular basis. By men, of course, who are stronger. If women were stronger, this wouldn't be happening. Men would not raise a hand if they thought the balance was more equal; they would back down quickly. Then again, if women were stronger, they would probably be beating the shit out of men just for the fun of it. It's only fair.

APPEARANCE IS EVERYTHING

Another major problem for women: They have to look good all the time or at least they think they do. So they'll be attractive to their male protectors. "Gotta look good tonight, Joey's gonna beat the shit out of me. Maybe I can get a nice kick in the fuckin' mouth. Gotta look my best."

And looking one's female best requires a lot of things. Start with cosmetics. Just think ofall the products and procedures a woman is forced to deal with in the world of cosmetics:cleansers,toners, foundation, blush, face powder, lipstick, lip gloss, lip liner, eyeliner, eye shadow,eyebrow pencil, mascara, nail polish, nail polish remover, manicures, pedicures, fake fingernails, fake eyelashes...

GIMME SOME SKIN

... face cream, neck cream, eye cream, thigh cream, root cream, day cream, night cream, cold cream, wrinkle remover, makeup remover, hand lotions, body lotions, bath oils, bath beads, shower gels, bubble baths, scented baths, perfumes, colognes, toilet water, astringents, moisturizers, emulsions, exfoliants, peels, scrubs, depilatories, body wraps, facial masks...

HAIR HAIR!

... shampoos, conditioners, bleaches, dyes, rinses, tints, perms, straighteners, wigs, falls,rats,extensions, combs, barrettes, bobby pins, hairpins, hairnets, hair curlers, scrunchies,ribbons,bows, debacles, headbands...

PROCEDURES

... streaking, frosting, teasing, spraying, moussing, blow drying, cutting, layering, curling,eyelash curling, eyebrow plucking, armpit shaving, leg shaving, crotch shaving, crotchwaxing,leg waxing, eyebrow waxing...

And a purse! A big fuckin' purse so she can carry all this shit around with her. Especially the makeup, which must be close at hand at all times. "Gotta have my makeup. In case I run into Joey and he wants to beat the shit outta me. I gotta look my best. Maybe he'll punch me repeatedly in the kidneys and the stomach so it doesn't mark up my face. He's so thoughtful.'

I NAVE NOTHING TO WEAR

And, my friend, I hope you're aware that when we talk about women looking good, we're also talking about clothing. Clothing is what generates all this shopping shit that occupies so much of a woman's time. Because the truth is, women have to buy, own and wear an unbelievably bewildering number of garments:

TAKE IT OFF!!!

Slips, half-slips, camisoles, thongs, panties, pantyhose, stockings, half hose, knee-highs,anklets,socks, leg warmers, garter belts, girdles, corsets, training bras, padded bras, sports bras,nursing bras, push-up bras, strapless bras, Wonderbras, bustiers, teddies, petticoats, peignoirs,negligees,nightgowns, shorties, muumuus, body stockings... (muumuus - don't they sound so cute? I can say 'muumuu-muumuu' all day)

TOP TO BOTTOM

... blouses, sweaters, jerseys, pullovers, halter tops, miniskirts, maxiskirts, slacks, suits, sunsuits, business suits, pants suits, culottes, capris, shorts, short shorts, hot pants, formal gowns,bridal gowns, evening gowns, street dresses, sundresses, cocktail dresses, housedresses, housecoats, winter coats, fall coats, spring coats, hats and scarves...

BAUBLES & BANGLES

... brooches, pins, necklaces, pendants, medallions, lockets, bracelets, ankle bracelets, earrings,wedding rings, engagement rings, friendship rings, thumb rings, toe rings and (optional,of course) nipple, nose and labia rings.

And let's not even begin to talk about shoes. Oh, God! Sorry girls! I take it back. But atleast let's keep it brief: tennis shoes, sandals, open-toes, slingbacks, mules, wedgies, flats,half-heels and...high heels. High heels that damage a woman's feet, ankles and knees, but make her ass and legs look great, so how can you blame a guy for the occasional rape? "Hey, the bitch was askin' for it, she was wearin' high heels."

DOWN THE AISLE

Now, generally, all this obsession with appearance has one purpose. It's supposed to lead to romance and it is devoutly wished by some a wedding. A wedding is another one of those good deals women get: The man "takes a wife," the woman is "given away," her family pays for the whole thing, and everyone stands around hoping she gets pregnant immediately.

KNOCK KNOCK!

Pregnant! Hey, another terrific treat for the gals! A chance to gain forty pounds, puke in the morning, walk like a duck, get sore tits and develop a nice case of hemorrhoids. What a deal!

And such attractive clothing. Plus, she can't get up off the couch without help. Well, it's her own fault. This wouldn't have happened if she had taken her birth control pill or used her diaphragm.

Notice: her pill, her diaphragm.

AND BABY MAKES WORK

But think of how fulfilling it can be. After all, now she has a baby; a baby she gets to raise practically alone. And if she decides to be a stay-at-home mom, she gets to cook, clean, sew, scrub, scour, wax, wash, dry, iron, do the shopping, drive the van and entertain the guests.

She's a housewife! An unpaid, in-family domestic servant. Admittedly, that description is a bit more in line with the old model. The new model is so much better: She 'gets a fuckin' job so she can be bringin' something' in." But, somehow, she still winds up being an unpaid, in-family domestic servant after she gets home from the job.

You know, the job? Where she gets paid less than men for the same work, does not rise beyond a certain level in the company and gets harassed all day long by some oversexed moron with a lump in his pants.

Probably better just to stay home where she doesn't have to be bothered with that pesky paycheck crap, and there his none of that nonsense about Social Security, pension plans and unemployment money in case of divorce. Just alimony and child support... if the ex-husband can

be located. The ex who probably thought she was looking a little used up and dumped her for someone whose milk glands hadn't sagged yet.

Can't forget those milk glands, can we, girls? Tits! Two tits, sticking straight out of your chest; in some cases sticking straight out. Well, for a few years, anyway. Yes, girls, just by virtue of being female, you get to walk around all your life with two vulnerable milk glands hanging out in front of you like lanterns. 

                And if, somehow, you should get the idea that men don't approve of the size and shape of those milk glands, you'll find plenty of social pressure to have them artificially "enhanced." Such enhancement usually will be performed and supervised by men.

Here's another physical treat for females: periods! Cramping, bloating and bleeding five days a month. Fifteen percent of the time. And you can add the time spent with premenstrual syndrome.PMS. Men gave it that name. If women had named it, it would be called My several daysof

shrieking and crying and depression, just before my several days of bleeding, cramping and bloating." Men don't quite see it from that angle. Men experience PMS as a problem for them.

"What's the matter, Joey? You don't look so good."

"Ahhhh, my wife's got the PMS."

Here are some more special female advantages in case you haven't had enough: pap smears, mammograms, hysterectomies, mastectomies, miscarriages, abortions, labor pains, childbirth pain, episiotomies, stretch marks and breast-feeding. And postpartum depression. Can't imagine why she wouldn't feel good. And just to top it all off, menopause. Menopause! More strange behavior and exciting physical sensations.

And in exchange for all this, in exchange for all this abuse from nature, what is the woman's payoff? Why, she's allowed to get into the lifeboat first. At least theoretically. How often do you think that really happens? Oh, and let's not forget, many men are quite willing to hold the door open for her. In fact, some men are quite impressed with their willingness to do this; they brag about it: 'Yeah, I beat the shit out of her a lot, but when she runs from one room to the other, I always hold the door open."

I'll tell you what a bad deal women got: They're in the majority on this planet, and they still wound up with the shitty end of the stick. That's how big a hosing they got.

Oh, and one other inequity I neglected to mention; very unequal. But this one works in women's favor: They live longer than men. And remember this happens in spite of all the shit they have to put up with. So who do you think is tougher? Men or women? Why don't you guess. And don'tforget, women have the huge added burden of having to put up with men.

Its Raining Men

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Man, Oh Man!

To my way of thinking, men have only one real problem: other men. That's where all the

troublestarts. A long time ago, men gave away their power. To other men: princes, kings,wizards,generals and high priests. They gave it away, because they believed what these other mentold them. They bought the okeydoke. The bullshit. Men always buy the okeydoke when it comes from other men.

Some stranger probably stood up at a campfire and said, "All right, boys, from now on, I'm the king. The sun is my father, the moon is my mother and they're the ones who tell me when to throw the virgins into the volcano. Til be expecting all of you to bow deeply when you see me, and give me half your crops. Plus I'm allowed to fuck your wife. And don't forget, if I want to I can concentrate real hard and make your head explode.'

And the other men around the campfire nodded their heads and said to one another, "This guy makes a lot of sense." A man will always buy the bullshit, because a man is not too bright. But I'm not suggesting a man doesn't have a great deal to put up with. He does. First of all, a man

has to make believe he knows what he's doing at all times. And while he's doing whatever it is he's doing, he has to make believe he doesn't need any help. He has to make believe he can fix anything. And if he can't fix it now, he'll fix it later. And if he can't fix it later, he has a friend who can fix it, and if not, it was no good to start with, it's not worth fixing, and besides, he knows where he can get something better, much cheaper, but they're all outta them right now, and besides, they're closed. This is the male disease. It's called

being full of shit.

The male disease includes the need to be in charge at all times. In charge, in control, in command. A "real man" sees himself as king of the hill, leader of the pack, captain of the ship.

But all the while, in order to fit in and belong, he has to act like all the other men and do what they do, so he'll be accepted. And get a good job and a promotion and a raise and a Porsche, and a wife. A wife who will immediately trade in the Porsche on a nice, sensible Dodge

van with folding seats so they can be like all the other boring families. The poor fuck. The poor stupid fuck.

His manliness also requires that he refuse to go to a doctor or a hospital unless it can be demonstrated to him that he has, in fact, been clinically dead for six months. No sense going' to the hospital, honey, I don't seem to be in a coma." Therefore, he must learn to ignore pain.

"It doesn't really hurt. Bleeding from six holes in the head doesn't really hurt. Just gimme the remote and get me a beer. And get the fuck outta here."

Most men learn this stupid shit from their fathers. Fathers teach their sons not to cry. "Don't let me hear you cryin' or I'll come up there and give you something to cry about!' Great stuff, hah?

All the problems in the world repeat, all the problems in the world can be traced to what fathers do to their sons.

So, little boys learn to hide their feelings, and society likes that because, that way, when they get to be eighteen, they'll able to go overseas and kill strangers without feeling anything. And of course, that bargain includes a certain reluctant willingness to have their balls shot off: "Honey, I have to go overseas and have my balls shot off, or else the rest of the guys will think I'm too afraid to go overseas and have my balls shot off.' The poor fucks. The poor stupid fucks.

And so, as a result of all this repression of feelings, the extent of the average man his emotional expression is the high five. Or sometimes, when really deep feelings emerge, both hands. The high ten. This is raw emotion. And that's about all they're capable of. And they have Dad

to thank. Thanks, Dad.

But wait! Don't think dads can't be fun at times, too. After all, dads introduce their sons to the Wonderful World of Menthe male subcultures. The really tough-guy, masculine, he-man stuff.

No wimps, no pussies, no softies.

There are five deadly male subcultures and they all overlap: the car and machinery culture, the police and military culture, the outdoors and gun culture, the sports and competition culture and the drug and alcohol culture. And, as a bonus, I'm gonna throw in one more: the "Let's go get some pussy and beat the shit outta queers" culture. As I say, they all overlap. Many men belong to all six.

This male universe is, of course, detectable by analyzing its combustible chemical formula:

gasoline, gunpowder, alcohol and adrenaline. 

A chemistry rendered even more lethal by that ever-present, ever-delightful accelerant: testosterone. Talk about substance abuse! If it's

chemical dependency you're interested in, you might want to look into testosterone.

TESSTAHSSTER-OWN!!the most lethal substance on earth. And it does not come from a

laboratory, it comes from the scrotum; a scrotum located, interestingly enough, not far

from the asshole. How fitting.

And, as it happens, all these male subcultures share a particular set of features: homophobia, coupled with an oddly ironic, complete, childlike trust in male authority. Men are attracted to powerful men. They also share a strong fear and dislike of women. This in spite of a

pathological obsession with pussy. TESSTAHSSTEROWN!!

So why are men like this? I think the overriding problem for men is that in life's main event, reproduction, they're left out; women do all the work. What do men contribute?

Generally, they're just looking for a quick parking space for some sperm. A couple of hits of hot jism, and the volume on the TV goes right back up. It's my belief that most of these flawed male chromosomes should not be allowed to go forward for even one more unfortunate generation.

But such is biology.

And so, excluded as they are from reproduction, men must find other ways to feel useful and worthwhile. As a result, they measure themselves by the size of their guns, the size of their cars, the size of their dicks and the size of their wallets. All contests that no man can win

consistently.

And let me tell you why all this happened. Because women are the source of all human life. The first human being came from the belly of a female. And all human fetuses begin as females. The brain itself is basically female until hormones act on it to make it structurally male.

So, in reality, all men are modified females. Where do you think those nipples came from, guys?

You're an afterthought. Maybe that's what's bothering you. Is that what's on your mind, Bunkie?

That would explain the hostility: Women got the good job, men got the shitty one.

Females create life, males end it. War, crime and violence are primarily male franchises. Man-shit.

It's nature's supreme joke. Deep in the womb, men start out as the good thing and wind up as the crappy thing. Not all men, just enough. Just enough to fuck things up. And the dumbest part of it all is that not only do men accept all this shit... they do it to themselves.

By the way, I'm not letting women completely off the hook. After all, the one part of the lower anatomy that is the same in both sexes is the asshole. But women who are assholes aren't called that. They're named for a different part of their lower anatomy. They're called cunts. Isn't

it nice that cunts and assholes are next-door neighbors?

-George Carlin ,When will Jesus bring the pork chops?

(George Carlin was a womanthropologist among other things.)

Hijack

I just found out that my mom has found out about my blog.

For four years , she knew nothing, except that I spent an inordinate time on the internet.Like any parent she thought I was mostly surfing porn.Then I had to confess that I wrote.

You write?

About what?

Well...this and that, and generally about everything...

Can I see it?

NOPE!

But now, thanks to a cousin (yeah you!) she has opened her own multiply site and started reading my stuff.

Bad Idea!

Now she likes to sit down and discuss stuff that I write.

Bad Bad Idea!

Luckily she has a very short attention span and she tells me she simply skims most of it and reads the replies to the posts.Yesterday, she was talking about some video reply to one of my posts that I myself had not yet seen.

GAAH !

Now she's on Facebook.

The funny part is her friends are actually my classmates and shipmates...

Most of them who have never seen her.

Double GAAH !

Now she wants to take over the world!

Gym Jesus

As you all know, I'm a fitness freak...

I have  helped my colleagues on the ship wherever they have required it.Many are thankful.

A funny thing happened on this ship.

I would work out quietly without disturbing or socializing with anyone.But then I noticed that all the other guys are following my exercise regime, studying and copying my moves!

Even without preaching , I had converted them.

I was Gym Jesus!

 

I have in the past written about fitness or weightloss.There I have written from an exclusively male perspective.

Finally I have come up with a broader perspective.

Simplest thing about fitness is :Most Men want big muscles.Most Women don't.

All the other goals are the same.Lesser body fat, more lean muscle,better body strength and coordination, enhanced immunity,better cognition skills, overall mental improvement etc.

After extensive research of some really big fat boring books (I even read the Merck Manual and several physiology textbooks that I borrowed from my cousin), I have developed a sureproof fitness program.

The only problem is that it canot be put down in a book.

Well, It can be, but then it will lose its efficacy.

So no dvds or infomercials either.(Thank god for that!)

This will be something like a intense five day course.

It will be one person at a time.(So at this point it is not a business model that will generate money.But it is a model geared for effectiveness)

In this five day course, you will have to spend an hour every day with me in my gym.My gym is just a room upstairs.It has one stationary cycle (which I don't use), one treadmill (which I don't use), one swiss ball, a few dumbbells,a punching bag (which I recommend that you don't use) and a pull up bar.

My gym is not the expensive kind that has an exorbitant yearly fee or lots of useless exercise equipment(some of which are downright damaging to your body.For example ; the smith machine, or the leg extension which will damage your knees more than high heels).

We will meet everyday for an hour in which I will come to know more about your fitness goals, your history, diet and body structure etc. 

You will exercise for roughly 20-25 mins and spend  the rest of the time interacting with me and learning a few cutting edge facts about exercise and nutrition.You will also unlearn many harmful beliefs that the general population harbours.As an added bonus, if requested, you will be taught holistic methods of fitness- which include subconscious activation of positive habits,deep relaxation techniques and meditation.Relax.The holistic methods are non-denominational.Keep your gods to yourself.

You will also learn a few boring things like how RMR is affected by aerobics and how to optimise your TDEE, which can be supplemented with actual proof.(charges apply)

Your exercise will be customised heavily based on your lifestyle,body composition,history and diet.You might be asked to  modify your diet based on your goals.

After five days, you no longer are required to come to my gym.You can do all the exercises in a regular gym or at home.I prefer you did them at home.

If required , you can visit after a month and review progress and fine tune the practices.

Now, you might want references.

I have none.

But I have experimented (I agree...it is a poor choice of words) with a few people and have had great success.

I've successfully helped two cousins lose weight with roughly 20 minutes of instruction.But that was possible because I  already knew to some extent all their history.

My mom has a problem of maintaining weight.She's been rapidly losing weight.You might think that is good, but she is distressed that none of clothes fit her now.

Well, I changed her fitness regime and now she finds her daily exercise more exciting than her old yoga routine, and she's maintained her weight for the past  year.

My dad has a weak back.So my primary goal was to strengthen his back, build lean muscle and lose fat.So far, he too has noted improvements in his back.Let me remind you.He is in his late fifties.His results will not be dramatic or quick.

Finally, I extensively experiment and keep tabs on myself.I like to safely change my body status.One month it is bulkier, the next month it is low fat.I keep tabs on what I eat and when and how.I recently discovered that my sugar cravings correspond to the days that I've worked out.On other days, I don't even feel like I want to eat that chocolate bar or drink that cola.

I never have had a craving for fast food.Truth be told, eating fast food makes me feel sick and sluggish that entire day.

I have a star on the mound of Luna on my right palm(I've studied Palmistry).

It is supposed to be a sign that I often punish myself. As far as exercising goes, I feel it is true.

Sometimes because I'm too overenthusuastic, I overexercise to the point I get sick for the next two days.

The U.S.Marines call it Over Traning Syndrome.It is a bodily reaction when the body goes into shock because it is overwhelmed by too my stress.

I do that sometimes - without realising it.For the next two days, I usually have a mild fever that goes away with simple rest.

I was briefly interested in Palmistry - until I read several books on it and realised that it was full of crap.

One ground rule is : No drugs.I've never studied drugs, legal or otherwise and using them without a professional's supervision is not something I'd recommend.

Apart from that I try every thing that I deem to be safe for me.I've even tried Brainwave entrainment technology.(results so far are inconclusive)

Well, I invite anyone interested to my "Gym Jesus Program of getting the fitness that you want". (Kinda corny name isn't it?)

As I want to test my theories and my accumulated knowledge on a wide variety of people, it will be complimentary to anyone willing to participate.

I'm promising results with twenty minutes or less of daily exercise that will leave you fresher than a daisy by the end of it.

And this is not an infomercial.

p.s. To all my detractors who tell me that I don't look like a bodybuilder.

Yes, you are right.I don't look like a classic bodybuilder.I don't strut around with a chest that can balance a glass of water or biceps that can be compared to pythons,boa constrictors or any other snakes.My thighs don't chafe and neither do my armpits.

When I'm fully clothed, I look like any regular garden variety Joe.

Three reasons:

1)I've deliberately under worked my pectorals,biceps,quadriceps and latissmus dorsii.I avoid all kinds of muscular hypertrophy in general.I don't want to end up looking like a collection of body parts pieced together.That being said, all bets are off once I take off my clothes. I do have definition and low body fat that other bodybuilders achieve by short term semi-starvation diets,intentional dehydration and abuse of metabolism catalysts like fat burners.Mine is a result of my exercise,diet and genetics.

2)I take no supplements, vitamin pills,no protein shakes,creatine powder,nitro kicks,fat burners,steroids and all other crap.I eat a regular low fat,moderate carbs and proteins and high fibre diet with lots of veggies and fruits.Salad is actually my favourite dish.My diet is actually very boring, because I'm one of those people who actually find eating a chore.The quicker and more efficient my meal is the better.

3)I don't want to look like the traditional body builder.

It is overkill.

That particular look is not how I define fitness.

Crappy Poet, Crappy Love (And an interview with Dr.Freud)

I'm going through that phase again.

That Crappy Poetry phase.

I'm not a poet , I constantly remind myself, lest I make a mockery of the art and myself.

But in going through the phase an urge develops much like an itch in the crotch, to fill up scraps of paper with alliterative analogies and rhyming sonnets and rhythmic couplets and unintelligible haiku.

Here is my latest debacle...

Oh Heart! Do not misbehave

as you reminisce once again,

Do not flutter,do not falter

But remember 

for it once lingered on my skin,

a touch so precious like warm glowing embers

that smoldered deep within

The memory of her face, 

of that sweet secret place,

it's warmth kept many winters at bay   (sigh audibly for effect)

TA-DAAAAA!

Hey, did you know that I wrote songs as a kid ?

Yeah...All I needed was a tune...I'd make the rest up myself, lyrics and all.

Wanna hear the cockroach song? 

I made it up after hearing a jingle on Tv.

Arrrggghhhh !

I need to stop this madness...

I need a distraction that will stop me from thinking.I'm addicted to reading because it stops me from thinking...thinking all those thoughts that have no use and cause too much grief.

Here we go again...(oh No ! Not again!)

I was lost.

I used to think she'd save me.

But she confessed that she too needed saving.

She was lost too.

I told her about the famous myth from Plato's Symposium;that People were hermaphrodites until God split them in two, and now all the halves wander the world over seeking one another. 

Love is the longing for the half of ourselves we have lost.

We were but lost in this vast sea of chaos , searching for our other halves...

But we would not enmesh perfectly with each other.

We weren't meant to.

But this was as close as I could get to perfection.

So would she consider my unworthy self to be worthy enough ? I enquired meekly...

 

In reply ,She confessed that she too needed saving...But not by me, but rather she needed to be saved from me.

By Me.

From Me.

Big difference.

Ah...the stabbing pain of semantics! The grief that then lingers like the scent of a loved one, now long gone.

Grief is addictive, they say. 

What's going on in the grief stricken person is this: we are seeing ourselves with the loved ones who are now gone, and unavailable somehow.

Our  response called"grief or "sense of loss" is a complex response to being dissociated from those memories. 

It's when we reminisce about our ninth birthday...when we blew all the candles and wished for something petty- a toy, and not for love, comfort or happiness.

It's when we see our loved ones and ourselves having a good time, and  feel empty because we are not there in the picture.

And we do it over and over again, till it becomes second nature.

Grief is a form of practised suffering.

She confessed that she needed to be saved from me.

Not by me.

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but semantics...sweet Stabbing Semantics.

Your words,  their agony and antics ...You've got me on my scabby knees.

I was disgusted at my own weakness and decided to let her live in peace and without fear.

But she was addicted to me, as I was to grief.

We both wouldn't let go.

(Shut Up.

 Stop it.

 Stop what you're doing to yourself.

 No good can ever come of it.

 If you don't stop it, I'm gonna beat the pulp outta you till you promise to stop for good)

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(Interview)

Dr.Freud, can you tell us why this young man, your patient, is obsessed with writing such posts?

Dr Freud: As far as I can see, it is not oedipus complex.In fact it is not related to sex at all.

The patient has confessed that he has a very asexual notion of love...i.e love without any lust or sin.

He believes that love and sex are entirely independent of each other.

A peculiar notion for such a young man and not a particularly a useful one in case he ever wants to start a family, or a rather good excuse to start an extramarital affair.(I just slept with her honey, but I'll always love you and no one else)

So since there is no sex involved,my particular brand of psychotherapy is not very helpful here.I would have suggested that he resolve his issues with his mother, but having met both of them on several occasions, I have to conclude that on the surface they don't seem to have any major issues.

But if you dig deep enough , you'll always unearth some issues.If not, I can create some now and resolve them later.

In my opinion,the patient has schizoid tendencies.My student Wilhelm...I mean Dr.Reich is an expert in that field.You should be talking to him , not me.

Let me explain.

                       The patient tells me that he hears these stories in his head.That alone should make him a prime candidate for a full frontal lobotomy.Other symptoms are that he constantly merges truth with fiction and constantly blurs the borders between what is real and what is unreal.For example, for anyone who knew him as a kid, it would be apparent that he's telling the truth about writing songs.He has sung a few of his childhood compositions to me.These songs employ childish humour,double entendres and other simplistic wordplay while retaining the general melodic structure of the original song.

But the next part is entirely a piece of fiction.

For one, the patient has confessed that he has never read Plato's Symposium, much less having told it to his unrequited love.

He simply found the quote somewhere and decided to use it in this particular context.But since he merges truth with fiction so frequently, it is almost impossible for a casual reader to make that fine distinction between fact and fiction.

He uses de-individuation constantly.He writes in first person and never names all the other characters in his stories.By not naming anyone,including himself, he creates  blank template personalities for the readers to fill in.In this way, the reader is invited to imagine himself or herself as one of the characters of his stories.

I'm told that seance mediums and other charlatans employ the same trick among others, to fleece the gullible.

It is said that every artist, writer, poet writes about himself, because he is limited to that point of view forever.So you see recurring themes & motifs in various authors, poets , musicians- and with time and enough sensitivity and with enough familiarity, you can recognise the signature piece of every artist.

Haruki Murakami's stories of unrequited love,being a third wheel, an empty life, an indescribable longing for something more, and the sudden denouement are his signature styles.

Similarly, this is this young man's signature style.He has taken a single memory of something that has never occurred and wrung it out again and again over time to produce what you see in front of you now.Most of his stories have never happened, but he is delusional because he believes that if they were to happen, this would be the only way it would happen.

One of his most strongly held beliefs is that no matter how good he becomes, eventually he will be rejected, but that does not stop him from improving himself.In fact, this belief only makes himself propel harder at excelling himself.He does not fear rejection...he expects it every time and if not he engineers rejection in some way so that he can still hold on to his belief.

Thus he too is stuck with being somewhat repetitive, but at the same time safely familiar and oddly endearing.

His is a story that is so unremarkable that it is all too real and all too possible.

It could have happened with anyone, especially with young men with no particular success with women.It could also have happened with any beautiful girl who has faced a host of such luckless and pathetic men.

The structure is ingenious that it would apply to both genders-masculine and feminine equally.I'm not calling him a genius though.I think it's just beginner's luck.

The patients story would also appeal to a casual reader because of one particular reason which I'd like to elaborate.

The patient makes a remarkably insightful comment that he is addicted to grief.In my knowledge, a cigar can be a penis,and sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, but almost everyone is drawn to grief like a moth to a flame.

The casual reader,whose life, the patients story does not echo, can also benefit from the brief and impersonal catharsis that he or she undergoes along with the protagonist of the brief story.I would say that it is almost like having a small cry just to feel lighter inside.

The patient confessed to me that he didn't actually want to post this as he had written it over two years ago because he fears that it can hurt some of his readers.But he wants his crappy poem, pardon my scatological reference, to see the light of day.He claims that he wrestles with his literary desires and moral obligations constantly.

I  assume that anyone who thinks these stories echo their own lives are going to endlessly torture themselves.

I hope god be with their tormented souls.

If not, I can always talk to them about penis envy and oedipus complex.

Uh...Thank you Dr.Freud for such an illuminating insight on your patient.

Dr.Freud:Please call me Sigmund...Doctor Freud sounds so stuffy.

Tell me one thing though doctor...er, Sigmund...Have you ever met a blonde kid with blue eyes who says "I see dead people"?