Bette Cooper

Comic adapted from a statement by Neil DeGrasse Tyson by Gavin Aung Than from Zen Pencils.

[Zen Pencils]

First things first.

Here is a video from the memorial service that was held last week in South Africa to honor anti-apartheid hero Nelson Mandela. While watching the video, keep in mind the controversy that erupted in the media when President Obama was part of a selfie picture at the event. Some media commentators were furious because it was such a undignified thing to do at a somber "funeral":

Here's how South Africans experienced the same memorial.

USA Today described the event, which was not a funeral, as a "raucous and festive send-off" that at times resembled a "soccer match," one where attendees "stomped until the bleachers shook." In fact, they "chanted and sang so loudly an official begged the crowd to quiet down."

So no, President Obama, Danish Prime Minister, Helle Thorning Schmidt and British Prime Minister David Cameron were never in danger of puncturing the memorial mood by using a few fleeting seconds to playfully snap a photo of themselves.

Nonetheless, the New York Daily News, among others, pounced. Following the right-wing media's misinformation lead, the Daily News mocked Obama for posing at a "funeral," while the Washington Post's Chris Cillizza described Obama as "acting like a bored kid at a school assembly during a funeral for a world leader." And a National Public Radio headline announced "President Obama Took A Funeral Selfie."

Of course, Obama didn't attend Mandela's funeral. But it sounded better to pretend he did, so lots of journalists did just that. 

The story also sounded better by pretending images of First Lady Michelle Obama that day revealed the makings of a husband/wife spat, as journalists went full-on Zapruder on a couple of harmless snapshots and eagerly divined a soap opera storyline to the day, one that starred Michelle Obama as the "angry black woman" casting a nasty stare at the Danish prime minister.

Yes, the media simultaneously attacked Barack Obama for being too gleeful at the memorial and attacked Michelle Obama for not being gleeful enough. Talk about a lose-lose. And yes, this from the same press corps that bemoans the fact presidents aren't more spontaneous and unscripted.  

Keep in mind, the mindless coverage revolved entirely around false premises; Obama was being disrespectful at a "funeral," and Michelle Obama was royally peeved at her husband's behavior. False and false: Here's a photo of Michelle sharing a light moment with the Danish prime minister that day.

To produce journalism and commentary this vapid and pointless takes work. It doesn't just happen. You have to play dumb about a whole range of issues in order to join in the Beltway fun. Coming at the end of the year, the selfie charade represented a sad encapsulation of the Beltway media's shortcomings; of its painfully unserious pursuits.

What is especially maddening is it highlighted that while the press becomes increasingly fascinated with gotcha events and treats them that as news, it's failing in its primary duty to produce reliable reporting about pressing public policy issues. Specifically, the selfie nonsense played out against the backdrop of the Beltway press corps' that bungled coverage of health care reform.

So, Victor yelled at me when he read my post yesterday because he said that the conversation we had last week about airplane-murder-eavesdropping was much better than the post I wrote yesterday about airplane-murder-eavesdropping and now we’re having a fight about who has a better story about airplane-murder-eavesdropping.  These are the arguments that normal people have all the time, probably.  Regardless, I’m sharing this today so that you can see why Victor and I have stayed married for 17 years even though we’re both sort of insane.  Feel free to skip this.  I’m on too little medication to know what I’m doing right now.

Conversation I had with Victor on google-chat while he was flying home after he was pissed because I missed eight of his calls and hadn’t read any of the emails he’d sent me:

me:  AAARGH.  DON’T YELL AT ME.  I feel like I’m fucking up everything and I can’t even tell what I’m fucking up because I’m fucking things up too badly to remember how badly I’m fucked them up.

Victor: No worries.  I have a list.  What’s your fax number?

me:  You know I don’t have one.  I’m not even technologically prepared to be yelled at properly.

Victor:  I created an outline and powerpoint of all the ways you’ve dissapointed the family.

Your sister and parents were involved.

We had to ask Microsoft to extend the number of supported slides.

me:  Is there animation?

Victor:  No animation.  This is serious.  

I sent it to you in email already, but don’t worry. You won’t ever read it so it’s all good.

me: *sigh*

 Victor:  It does have a picture of a cat that says “Hang in there” though.

But that’s at the end.

me:  If you had told me there was a cat picture I would have opened it.

Next time, lead with the cat picture.

Victor:  Can I call you with a cat picture from now on so you won’t ignore me anymore?

me:  I left the phone in the car and didn’t realize it wasn’t with me.  Maybe just staple my phone to my neck so I’ll always have it with me?

Victor:  Get google glass so it’s always on your head.

me:  That looks stupid.

I’d rather do neck staples.

Victor:  I use google glass.

me:  I know.

Victor:  Cell phone stapled to your neck: giving you cancer, making your neck hurt, and generally irritating everyone?

me:  I already do most of those anyway.

Victor:  Seriously though. I love you and am glad you are home.

So that I can criticize what you are doing.

me:  I love you too even though I’m going to murder you for yelling at me when I already feel fragile and stupid.  I need you to look over my murder plan when you get home though because I think I probably did it wrong.

Victor:  Did you cite references correctly? Because I don’t truck with peeps who cant follow AP guidelines.

me:  All my references are from wikipedia.  So, yeah.  It’s pretty untouchable.

Victor:  You should probably get one of those fancy report binders that indicate a complete lack of substance in the paper. Just in case you need some extra credit.

me:  I have one.  It has a unicorn on it.

And it’s printed on pastel paper with poofy clouds in the background.

Victor:  Clear plastic is the move, dufus.

me:  But then you can’t see the unicorn.

Victor:  Unicorns are for chumps.

me:  Take it back.  Take it back now.

Victor:  I’ve never gotten a job with a resume bound in a unicorn folder.

me:  Too bad.  You could have been Pluto by now.

The guy dressed as a dog at Disneyland, that is.

Not the planet.

Victor:  Pluto’s not a planet.  Minus 10 points.

Better find some clear plastic.

me:  UNICORNS ARE PERFECT AND PLUTO IS A PLANET.  ARE YOU TRYING TO GET A DIVORCE??

Victor:  Oh, that reminds me.  For the murder you also need clear plastic.  And pick up some pickles.  That’s was in one of my many emails you ignored.

me:  Oh, there will be pickles.  (There’ll Be Pickles would be a great sequel to There Will Be Blood.)

Victor:  I am pretty sure my google glass are flying the plane.  Kinda scared to turn them off at this altitude, just in case the pilot isn’t ready.

me:  You think he’s stealing the wifi on your glasses for google maps?

Victor:  Hope not, otherwise all the airports he looks up will have yelp ratings and crap.

Hey, look. I’m the mayor of the lavatory.

me:  I think it’s called “loo” on a plane.

Victor:  Nope. I just checked in and it’s the lavatory.

me:  Is there a window in there?  There was one in Air New Zealand.  Felt creepy.  Why do you need a window in a bathroom?

Victor:  So they can smoke. Convicts, you know?

me:  That’s a terrible generalization.  Besides, you don’t smoke convicts.  They’re better in stew.

Victor:  Who the fuck is making stew in the airplane bathroom?

me:  You mean “the lavatory“?

Victor:  This guy next to me keeps reading our chat.

me:  Did he read where we buried the body??

Victor:  I’m going to stab him in his eye if he does it again.

me:  Seriously, if he read about you-know-what then you need to track him down and make sure he doesn’t make it home.

I’m not going back to jail again.

Victor:  We can’t ever go back to jail again.

 

How much do you understand an introvert? Here’s a simple guide for you to find out exactly how you should interact with the introverts.

How To Live With Introverts | Roman Jones

What about the extroverts? How To Make Introverts Happy And Extroverts Shine

The post If You Didn’t Get It Why You Couldn’t Get Along With Introverts Before You Read This, You’ll Understand After appeared first on Lifehack.

The DIY Couturier: 21 Tips to Keep Your Shit Together When You're Depressed.:

Reposting in its entirety, because it is just that good.

rosalindrobertson:

A while ago, I penned a fairly angry response to something circulating on the internet – the 21 Habits of Happy People. It pissed me off beyond belief, that there was an inference that if you weren’t Happy, you simply weren’t doing the right things.

I’ve had depression for as long as I can remember. It’s manifested in different ways. I did therapy. I did prozac. I did more therapy. My baseline is melancholic. I’d just made peace with it when I moved, unintentionally, to a place that had markedly less sunshine in the winter. I got seasonal depression. I got that under control. Then I got really, really sick. Turns out it’s a permanent, painful genetic disorder. My last pain-free day was four years ago.

So, this Cult of Happy article just set me off. Just… anger. Rage. Depression is serious – debilitating, often dangerous, and it’s got an enormous stigma. It leaves people to fend for themselves.

It’s bad enough without people ramming Happy Tips at you through facebook. There is no miracle behaviour change that will flip that switch for you. I know, I’ve tried.

A friend of mine suggested that I write something from my point of view because, surprisingly, I manage to give an outwards impression of having my shit together. I was shocked to hear this. And I find this comical, but I see her point. I’m functioning. I’ve adapted. I’m surprisingly okay. I think the medical term is “resilient”.

So, here it is.

My 21 Tips on Keeping Your Shit Together During Depression

1)   Know that you’re not alone. Know that we are a silent legion, who, every day face the solipsism and judgement of Happy People Who Think We Just Aren’t Trying.  There are people who are depressed, people who have been depressed, and people who just haven’t been hit with it yet.

2)   Understand that the Happy People are usually acting out of some genuine (albeit misguided) concern for you, that it’s coming from a good place, even if the advice feels like you’re being blamed for your disease. Telling you these things makes them feel better, even if it makes you feel like shit. (If they insist on keeping it up, see #12.)

3)   Enlist the help of a professional.  See your doctor. You need to talk about the ugly shit, and there are people paid to listen and help you find your way to the light at the end of the tunnel.  

4)   Understand that antidepressants will only do so much. They’re useful, they’ll level you out and give you the time you need to figure out your own path to getting well. They can be helpful. There are lots to choose from. They may not be for you, and even if they are, they take some time to kick in. Conversely, they may not be for you. Work with your doctor.

5)   Pick up a paintbrush, a pencil, an activity you got joy from in the past and re-explore that.  Or, sign up for the thing you always wanted to try. There is a long history and link between depression and creativity. It’s a bright light of this condition, so utilize it to your best advantage.

6)   Eat nutritionally sound, regular small meals. If you’re having trouble eating, try to focus on what you’d like to eat. I went through a whole six week episode of tomatoes and cream cheese on a bagel twice a day. Not great, but it was something – helpful context, I’m a recovered anorexic. Conversely, if all you want to do is scarf down crap, try to off-ramp it by downing a V-8 and doing #9 for 15 minutes, and see how you feel.  Chucking your blood sugar all over hell’s half acre is going to make you feel worse.

7)   While you’re doing #3, get some bloodwork done. If you’re low on iron or vitamin D, or if your hormone levels are doing the Macarena… these can all contribute to zapping your energy or switching your mood to Bleak As Hell.

8)   If you’re in bed and the “insomnia hamsters”, as I like to call them, are on the wheel of your head, watch Nightly Business News on PBS. This has the effect of Nyquil.  Swap out your coffee for herbal tea. If you just cannot sleep, try the next tip….

9)   Learn how to meditate. Start by focusing on your breathing. Not sleep, not thoughts. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Meditation is focusing on being present in your body, not careening around in your brain. It may not be as good as sleep but it will give you some rest and recharge you.

10)                  Face a window as often as you can – at work, at home. Look out into the world. Watch. Observe. Try to find something you find pretty or interesting to focus on. And, handily remember that one in five of those people out there feel the way you do.

11)                  Cry. Better out than in. Sometimes it’s not convenient or career-enhancing to cry, so find a private place as best you can and let the tears go. Carry Kleenex and face wipes and extra concealer if you wear makeup. You can always claim allergies.

12)                   Any “friend” who resolutely believes that your depression is because you’re lazy, because you’re not trying hard enough, who blames you for not bootstrapping out of it- that friend needs to be cut off. Polite (#2) is one thing, but there is a limit. You don’t have to explain, you can just not respond. You feel badly enough, you don’t need their “assistance”.

13)                  Limit your time with people who drain you. You know who they are. Often you don’t have a choice- but you can put the meter on. And, subsequently, be aware of what you’re asking of those close to you.

14)                  Everyone has shit they’ve got to deal with. What you have been saddled with is your shit. Recognize, just as you’re not alone, you’re also not unique. The grass may look greener, you may be jealous or envious of others who don’t have to deal with depression, but you likely do not know everything that’s going on with them.  

15)                  Let go or be dragged. This is an old Buddhist saying. It’s a very useful way to frame aspects of depression. Betrayal, anger, fear… letting go is a process – often a painful and difficult process - but it’s ultimately going to show you the path out of this terrible place. Repeating the mantra can help when you’re feeling gripped by these feelings.

16)                  Wear clothes that make you feel confident. It takes as much time to put on nice clothes as it does to put on sweatpants. You will want to wear the sweatpants. Fight the urge. The whole “look good/feel better” campaign isn’t limited to cancer and chemotherapy. Or women.

17)                  Avoid fictional drama and tragedy like the plague. No Grey’s Anatomy, no to The Notebook, or anything that won a Pulitzer prize. You’ve got enough going on In Real Life. Comedy only.  Or trashy stuff. Old episodes of WonderWoman? I’ve got the box set. Mindless drivel, like the latest CGI blockbuster. Or clever, funny books. David Sedaris. Jenny Lawson. Fiction exists to elicit emotion, and the emotion you need to express most right now is laughter.

18)                  Simple exercise, if you can. It can be something as simple as taking the stairs up a flight, or walking around the block. It doesn’t have to be elaborate, it doesn’t have to involve climbing a mountain or running a marathon. Baby steps.

19)                  Depression will lie to you. Depression will try to tell you what others are thinking.  That you are unloved and unworthy, that others think little of you or don’t care – or even wish you harm. You are not a psychic. Keep repeating that. “I am not a psychic”.  Repeat. The only way to know what another person is thinking is to up and ask them.

20)                  If you are well and truly losing this battle, reach out to someone. I’ve been the random friendly-but-not-close person who has fielded the occasional outreach. I like to think I’m not judgemental and generally resourceful, and others have thought the same, so they called and asked. You know someone like me. And they will help you.

21)                  Forgive yourself.  I’m writing out all these tips, and I can’t always muster the strength to even stick my nose outside, or walk up the stairs, or eat my vegetables. Today, I got outside for ten minutes. I will try again tomorrow. And I will try again the day after that.

This list will not cure you. This list will not flip on the happy switch. God, I wish it were that easy. The theme here is to not to unknowingly sabotage yourself. All these little things? Like your blood sugar, or watching nonstop episodes of House, or endless Try Harder lectures from your Perpetually Perky sister?

They all make dealing with depression just a tiny bit harder than it needs to be. And it’s hard enough, all on its own.

If you read this blog regularly, you know I'm a child of the grunge music age.  So when one of my grunge idols speaks about talent, I think we should listen.  

So much so I typed a quote from Dave Grohl (drummer for Nirvana, founder of the Foo Fighters) out of a freaking Delta Air magazine on my way back from Canada this week.

Check out the quote - It's money, baby:

""When I think about kids watching a TV show like American Idol or The Voice, then they think, "Oh, OK, that's how you become a musician, you stand in a line for eight f****** hours with 800 people at a convention center and then you sing your heart out for someone and then they tell you it's not f****** good enough.'  Can you imagine?"

"It's destroying the next generation of musicians! Musicians should go to a yard sale and buy an old f****** drum set and get in their garage and just suck. And get their friends to come in, and they'll suck too.  And then they'll start f****** playing and they'll have the best time they've had in their lives and then all of the sudden they'll become Nirvana.  Because that's exactly what happened with Nirvana.  Just a bunch of guys that had some S***** old instruments and they got together and started playing some noisy a** s***, and they became the biggest band in the world.  That can happen again! You don't need a f****** computer or the Internet or American Idol."

Soak on that last paragraph a little bit.  Wow.

Buy some tools to do something you kind of enjoy and suck.  Get together with others who suck and have a blast.  Become the next Nirvana becauase you weren't focused on being glitzy.  You were focused on the craft.

Go find what you love to do.  Start playing some noisy a** s*** with others. 

Be orginal.  Maybe you'll become your industry's Nirvana.  Why not you?