Shared posts

13 Sep 06:12

Daddy/Daughter Dance to Shake It Off


This was me, Harith, Wendy, Julia, and Tish in the car after Neutral Milk Hotel.

Daddy/Daughter Dance to Shake It Off

12 Sep 15:09

New Comic to Anchor ‘Update’ on ‘S.N.L.’ -


This bums me out a little, because I think Cecily Strong is one of SNL's best right now and I liked her on Update.

Two dudes anchoring is gonna be weird.

10 Sep 18:50

The study of adjective order and GSSSACPM.


Harith, this is the article I mentioned (about "big brown dog" versus "brown big dog").

04 Sep 22:10

What Happens to “Holdouts” Who Refuse to Sell Their Homes to Developers?

03 Sep 20:15

The Russian dash-cam video to end all Russian dash-cam videos | Dangerous Minds

29 Aug 13:31

Writing Skills


Interesting enough comic, I guess, but sharing because I cannot BELIEVE Randall misspelled "surprise" in the first panel.

I'd like to find a corpus of writing from children in a non-self-selected sample (e.g. handwritten letters to the president from everyone in the same teacher's 7th grade class every year)--and score the kids today versus the kids 20 years ago on various objective measures of writing quality. I've heard the idea that exposure to all this amateur peer practice is hurting us, but I'd bet on the generation that conducts the bulk of their social lives via the written word over the generation that occasionally wrote book reports and letters to grandma once a year, any day.
25 Aug 04:37

March of the Penguins

You ARE getting older, though.
25 Aug 04:36

Buy an Ice Bucket Challenge Costume


Welp. We're all fucked.

23 Aug 13:56

The Strange Tale of the North Pond Hermit


This is absolutely fascinating. Long read but worth it.

20 Aug 12:04

David Letterman’s Robin Williams tribute: The Late Show host remembers when he met Robin Williams for the first time (VIDEO).


Worth 10 minutes of your life.

18 Aug 14:47

I Re-Watched Garden State and Will Never Feel Again


This just plain delighted me. (I loved the movie when it came out, though I thought the Infinite Abyss chapter went on too long. I bet I'd hate the whole damn thing now.)

14 Aug 15:46

Chris Walla Quits Death Cab For Cutie - Stereogum


Pretty sure DCFC has jumped the shark anyway, but this is still maybe a bummer.

13 Aug 18:05

‘Good Will Hunting’ Bench in Boston Public Garden Becomes Robin Williams Memorial


Beautiful, spontaneous memorial. I really hope they follow through with the statue.

06 Aug 01:38

8 Reasons Kids of the 70s Should Be Dead By Now


"Ten million kids died from Lawn Dart injuries in the summer of ’78, which is a tragedy, but the aftermath did give us Eric Clapton’s indelible hit about the era “Lay Down Sally”, which topped the charts that year."

04 Aug 02:22

Pronunciation – Imgur help


Well, Harith and Schubin, here you go. Image-er. Straight from the horse's mouth.

28 Jul 22:40

We Experiment On Human Beings! « OkTrends


I personally thought it was great (and hilarious) when Facebook said, um, yes, we totally manipulate your newsfeed to experiment on you. Today OkCupid admitted the same thing. Experiment #3 in this is pretty interesting for any of us who've ever been down the online dating wormhole.

11 Jul 17:22

Flop Life: What If We All Acted Like We Were In The World Cup? : The Two-Way : NPR


Kind of good for a larf.

09 Jul 23:31

You're not a nerd, geeks aren't sexy and you don't "fucking love" science.

26 Jun 13:45

It's probably not Carlton...

25 Jun 11:52

Looney Tunes and gun violence: The cartoons had a lot of murder and suicide, as this supercut reminds us (VIDEO).


The video actually is kind of astonishing.

24 Jun 08:26

Seph Lawless photographs abandoned malls in his book, Black Friday.


I could look at abandoned apocalyptic mall photos forever.

20 Jun 17:05



Found this in the wilds of the internet with the caption "so many choices" and I kind of can't stop being amused by it.

20 Jun 10:49


19 Jun 13:44


18 Jun 12:28

OK Go: The Writing's on the Wall video illustrates song with optical illusions (VIDEO).


I kind of stopped paying attention to Ok Go and their clever videos awhile ago, but this one is pretty goddamn cool. If you don't immediately see the illusion at 2:48, do yourself the favor of pausing it.

Also this song is pretty solid.

11 Jun 23:31

Happy Birthday to the GROUND!

Dog smashes birthday cake -

Animals Being Dicks is officially three years old. That’s just unreal to me. I can’t thank you all enough for keeping this thing going. Here’s to another year. 

08 Jun 04:07


16 May 13:52



The alt text on this is just lovely.

'TMI' he whispered, gazing into the sea.
14 May 15:33


Dog refuses to catch frisbee -

"Stop trying to make fetch happen." - Dan2525

09 May 16:16

Depression Part Two

by Allie

I remember being endlessly entertained by the adventures of my toys. Some days they died repeated, violent deaths, other days they traveled to space or discussed my swim lessons and how I absolutely should be allowed in the deep end of the pool, especially since I was such a talented doggy-paddler.

I didn't understand why it was fun for me, it just was.

But as I grew older, it became harder and harder to access that expansive imaginary space that made my toys fun. I remember looking at them and feeling sort of frustrated and confused that things weren't the same.

I played out all the same story lines that had been fun before, but the meaning had disappeared. Horse's Big Space Adventure transformed into holding a plastic horse in the air, hoping it would somehow be enjoyable for me. Prehistoric Crazy-Bus Death Ride was just smashing a toy bus full of dinosaurs into the wall while feeling sort of bored and unfulfilled.  I could no longer connect to my toys in a way that allowed me to participate in the experience.

Depression feels almost exactly like that, except about everything.

At first, though, the invulnerability that accompanied the detachment was exhilarating. At least as exhilarating as something can be without involving real emotions.

The beginning of my depression had been nothing but feelings, so the emotional deadening that followed was a welcome relief.  I had always wanted to not give a fuck about anything. I viewed feelings as a weakness — annoying obstacles on my quest for total power over myself. And I finally didn't have to feel them anymore.

But my experiences slowly flattened and blended together until it became obvious that there's a huge difference between not giving a fuck and not being able to give a fuck. Cognitively, you might know that different things are happening to you, but they don't feel very different.

Which leads to horrible, soul-decaying boredom.

I tried to get out more, but most fun activities just left me existentially confused or frustrated with my inability to enjoy them.

Months oozed by, and I gradually came to accept that maybe enjoyment was not a thing I got to feel anymore. I didn't want anyone to know, though. I was still sort of uncomfortable about how bored and detached I felt around other people, and I was still holding out hope that the whole thing would spontaneously work itself out. As long as I could manage to not alienate anyone, everything might be okay!

However, I could no longer rely on genuine emotion to generate facial expressions, and when you have to spend every social interaction consciously manipulating your face into shapes that are only approximately the right ones, alienating people is inevitable.

Everyone noticed.

It's weird for people who still have feelings to be around depressed people. They try to help you have feelings again so things can go back to normal, and it's frustrating for them when that doesn't happen. From their perspective, it seems like there has got to be some untapped source of happiness within you that you've simply lost track of, and if you could just see how beautiful things are...

At first, I'd try to explain that it's not really negativity or sadness anymore, it's more just this detached, meaningless fog where you can't feel anything about anything — even the things you love, even fun things — and you're horribly bored and lonely, but since you've lost your ability to connect with any of the things that would normally make you feel less bored and lonely, you're stuck in the boring, lonely, meaningless void without anything to distract you from how boring, lonely, and meaningless it is.

But people want to help. So they try harder to make you feel hopeful and positive about the situation. You explain it again, hoping they'll try a less hope-centric approach, but re-explaining your total inability to experience joy inevitably sounds kind of negative; like maybe you WANT to be depressed. The positivity starts coming out in a spray — a giant, desperate happiness sprinkler pointed directly at your face. And it keeps going like that until you're having this weird argument where you're trying to convince the person that you are far too hopeless for hope just so they'll give up on their optimism crusade and let you go back to feeling bored and lonely by yourself.

And that's the most frustrating thing about depression. It isn't always something you can fight back against with hope. It isn't even something — it's nothing. And you can't combat nothing. You can't fill it up. You can't cover it. It's just there, pulling the meaning out of everything. That being the case, all the hopeful, proactive solutions start to sound completely insane in contrast to the scope of the problem.

It would be like having a bunch of dead fish, but no one around you will acknowledge that the fish are dead. Instead, they offer to help you look for the fish or try to help you figure out why they disappeared.

The problem might not even have a solution. But you aren't necessarily looking for solutions. You're maybe just looking for someone to say "sorry about how dead your fish are" or "wow, those are super dead. I still like you, though."

I started spending more time alone.

Perhaps it was because I lacked the emotional depth necessary to panic, or maybe my predicament didn't feel dramatic enough to make me suspicious, but I somehow managed to convince myself that everything was still under my control right up until I noticed myself wishing that nothing loved me so I wouldn't feel obligated to keep existing.

It's a strange moment when you realize that you don't want to be alive anymore. If I had feelings, I'm sure I would have felt surprised. I have spent the vast majority of my life actively attempting to survive. Ever since my most distant single-celled ancestor squiggled into existence, there has been an unbroken chain of things that wanted to stick around.

Yet there I was, casually wishing that I could stop existing in the same way you'd want to leave an empty room or mute an unbearably repetitive noise.

That wasn't the worst part, though. The worst part was deciding to keep going.

When I say that deciding to not kill myself was the worst part, I should clarify that I don't mean it in a retrospective sense. From where I am now, it seems like a solid enough decision. But at the time, it felt like I had been dragging myself through the most miserable, endless wasteland, and — far in the distance — I had seen the promising glimmer of a slightly less miserable wasteland. And for just a moment, I thought maybe I'd be able to stop and rest. But as soon as I arrived at the border of the less miserable wasteland, I found out that I'd have to turn around and walk back the other way.

Soon afterward, I discovered that there's no tactful or comfortable way to inform other people that you might be suicidal. And there's definitely no way to ask for help casually.

I didn't want it to be a big deal. However, it's an alarming subject. Trying to be nonchalant about it just makes it weird for everyone.

I was also extremely ill-prepared for the position of comforting people. The things that seemed reassuring at the time weren't necessarily comforting for others.

I had so very few feelings, and everyone else had so many, and it felt like they were having all of them in front of me at once. I didn't really know what to do, so I agreed to see a doctor so that everyone would stop having all of their feelings at me.

The next few weeks were a haze of talking to relentlessly hopeful people about my feelings that didn't exist so I could be prescribed medication that might help me have them again.

And every direction was bullshit for a really long time, especially up. The absurdity of working so hard to continue doing something you don't like can be overwhelming. And the longer it takes to feel different, the more it starts to seem like everything might actually be hopeless bullshit.

My feelings did start to return eventually. But not all of them came back, and they didn't arrive symmetrically.

I had not been able to care for a very long time, and when I finally started being able to care about things again, I HATED them. But hatred is technically a feeling, and my brain latched onto it like a child learning a new word.

Hating everything made all the positivity and hope feel even more unpalatable. The syrupy, over-simplified optimism started to feel almost offensive.

Thankfully, I rediscovered crying just before I got sick of hating things.  I call this emotion "crying" and not "sadness" because that's all it really was. Just crying for the sake of crying. My brain had partially learned how to be sad again, but it took the feeling out for a joy ride before it had learned how to use the brakes or steer.

At some point during this phase, I was crying on the kitchen floor for no reason. As was common practice during bouts of floor-crying, I was staring straight ahead at nothing in particular and feeling sort of weird about myself. Then, through the film of tears and nothingness, I spotted a tiny, shriveled piece of corn under the refrigerator.

I don't claim to know why this happened, but when I saw the piece of corn, something snapped. And then that thing twisted through a few permutations of logic that I don't understand, and produced the most confusing bout of uncontrollable, debilitating laughter that I have ever experienced.

I had absolutely no idea what was going on.

My brain had apparently been storing every unfelt scrap of happiness from the last nineteen months, and it had impulsively decided to unleash all of it at once in what would appear to be an act of vengeance.

That piece of corn is the funniest thing I have ever seen, and I cannot explain to anyone why it's funny. I don't even know why. If someone ever asks me "what was the exact moment where things started to feel slightly less shitty?" instead of telling a nice, heartwarming story about the support of the people who loved and believed in me, I'm going to have to tell them about the piece of corn. And then I'm going to have to try to explain that no, really, it was funny. Because, see, the way the corn was sitting on the floor... it was so alone... and it was just sitting there! And no matter how I explain it, I'll get the same, confused look. So maybe I'll try to show them the piece of corn - to see if they get it. They won't. Things will get even weirder.

Anyway, I wanted to end this on a hopeful, positive note, but, seeing as how my sense of hope and positivity is still shrouded in a thick layer of feeling like hope and positivity are bullshit, I'll just say this: Nobody can guarantee that it's going to be okay, but — and I don't know if this will be comforting to anyone else — the possibility exists that there's a piece of corn on a floor somewhere that will make you just as confused about why you are laughing as you have ever been about why you are depressed. And even if everything still seems like hopeless bullshit, maybe it's just pointless bullshit or weird bullshit or possibly not even bullshit.

I don't know. 

But when you're concerned that the miserable, boring wasteland in front of you might stretch all the way into forever, not knowing feels strangely hope-like.