rosco rathbone
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Kajira Callista said:
Are you going to throw a sleeping gas grenade in and then come in and touch our areas when we are knocked out?
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Are you going to throw a sleeping gas grenade in and then come in and touch our areas when we are knocked out?
Kajira Callista
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gosh i wish i could do that domthink thing sometimesrosco rathbone said:
yes....yes i am uncle rosco.
Kajira Callista
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Netzach said:
bridgeburner
threadkiller
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Admit it, you just spoke up because you want KC to touch your areas too.
-B
-B
bridgeburner
threadkiller
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And now I've got Dina Mo' Hum running through my head
Kiss my aura, Dora.
It's real Angora.
Y'all want some more'a?
Right here on the floor'a?
-B
Kiss my aura, Dora.
It's real Angora.
Y'all want some more'a?
Right here on the floor'a?
-B
rosco rathbone
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My new copy of The Sexual Criminal, A Psychoanalytic Study, originally published in 1949 as a guidebook to dangerous perverts and jack the rippers for the LAPD, is utterly captivating. I found it on the street, in the rain, along with some vintage Kathy Acker and William Burroughs.
The late-40s mugshots are amazing. Half of the perverts are handsome in a sleepy, sinister, bedroom-eyed ("neuropathic") manner. The rest are homely in an equally perfect old-timey way, with weak chins, large noses and staring maddened eyes burning right into you. All with the perfect late-40s hairstyles, short on the sides and long on top.
The eyes get you in each of those pictures.
The late-40s mugshots are amazing. Half of the perverts are handsome in a sleepy, sinister, bedroom-eyed ("neuropathic") manner. The rest are homely in an equally perfect old-timey way, with weak chins, large noses and staring maddened eyes burning right into you. All with the perfect late-40s hairstyles, short on the sides and long on top.
The eyes get you in each of those pictures.
Marquis
Jack Dawkins
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The eyes always give me away.
I've been told when appropriately provoked you can see Lucifer himself peer at you through the windows to my soul.
I wear glasses during interviews.
http://pic17.picturetrail.com/VOL785/2803812/5632597/80345180.jpg
I've been told when appropriately provoked you can see Lucifer himself peer at you through the windows to my soul.
I wear glasses during interviews.
http://pic17.picturetrail.com/VOL785/2803812/5632597/80345180.jpg
rosco rathbone
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I was just rapping with someone tonite about this. I have begun to wear dark spectacles at all times.
rosco rathbone
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Egg. Egg came first.
Marquis
Jack Dawkins
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I'm going to forgo a very witty comment to be a total nerd here.
Egg is technically the correct answer to that question.
Think about it, at some point along the evolutionary history of the chicken there was an animal that was not a chicken that laid an egg that was a chicken.
I guess the question makes more sense if you believe in evolution.
Egg is technically the correct answer to that question.
Think about it, at some point along the evolutionary history of the chicken there was an animal that was not a chicken that laid an egg that was a chicken.
I guess the question makes more sense if you believe in evolution.
Pure
Fiel a Verdad
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i read an FBI crime analyst's theories of a link of perversion and criminality.
in the case of 'sadist' the contrast is sharp; getting off on the pain of another, an unwilling perosn; vs. doing a pain scene with a willing experimenter (for the latter's erotic fulfillment. the psychiatrist's sadist vs. the self-said BDSM 'sadist.'
PS: acquired Thornhill and Palmer, on The Natural History of Rape.
in the case of 'sadist' the contrast is sharp; getting off on the pain of another, an unwilling perosn; vs. doing a pain scene with a willing experimenter (for the latter's erotic fulfillment. the psychiatrist's sadist vs. the self-said BDSM 'sadist.'
PS: acquired Thornhill and Palmer, on The Natural History of Rape.
rosco rathbone
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I think any such sharp lines are drawn purely for the convenience of people who work with criminals in one way or another be they agents, shrinks, lawyers or judges. This book actually delinates the category of "Ideal Sadist"-"...a sadistic mind objectifying the subjective longing, and by means of ideoplastic symbolism manifesting symptoms of sadism, usually in the form of paintings or drawings, prose, verse, or pornographic literature..."-who, though a sex criminal, never commits any actual sex crimes. Nowhere is the idea of sadistic acts with willing partners mentioned outside the area of wifebeating and general Rhett Butler, "cave man" style sexuality.
Good to see that you got that book.
Good to see that you got that book.
Marquis
Jack Dawkins
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A story about fear.
A funny thing happened today.
I've been thinking about the bipolar thing a lot recently for two reasons.
1) I try to stay in touch with people that know me well enough to see when I'm going nuts. It's not too hard for me to get it together when I realize what's going on, and usually if I feel myself getting edgy a smoke and a nap will set me straight. For the times I slip past myself, my friends are there to point it out and I take a pill that strangles Mr. Hyde on the spot. My interview skills are off the charts exceptional, meaning that most of the time if you didn't know me well we could probably hang out for hours without you realizing that I can't remember my middle name. Of course, the worse I get the quicker the curtain drops, and in the most extreme of circumstances I have a perceivable sanity half-life of about 5 minutes. For obvious reasons, I cannot afford to get to that level, I barely escaped the padded rooms last episode.
In any case, now that I'm working again, I don't have as much time to see people as I used to, so I'm forced to rely on my introspective skills. Hardly an infallible approach.
2) I've started a new job as a teacher, so obviously the stakes are higher than when being a beach bum and pick-up artist was my primary occupation. I interact with kids all day, and being a teacher, while fun, rewarding and stimulating, is not a stress free job. I can't smoke or take naps at school (my kids sure do though!), and I'm slightly concerned about flipping out in the clasroom.
With those things on my mind it seemed serendipitous when I found out that there was a psychiatrist living a floor above me.
I figured I'd drop in to say hi. His family owns all the units on one side of the building and always decorates the hallway elaborately during holidays. I figured that would serve as a less threatening introduction. (All nouns have been altered)
"Hello Dr. Fucker, my name is Marquis, I just bought unit 4B and I have to say I really love what you guys do with this hallway during holidays."
"Hey thanks Marquis, come on in."
brief small talk ensues
"So, Dr. Fucker, I'm not sure how to bring this up or even if it is appropriate but I was wondering if we could talk about bipolar disorder. I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder about a year ago and there are a few things that have always puzzled me about the disease."
There was a change just then. A change so subtle that it bore on the brink of imperceptibility to all but the most astute or imaginative of minds. Whether ghost or burglar, I heard a noise.
"Well hey, you know for all these really silly liability reasons and whatnot I really can't talk about that with you but here's the number of a great psychiatrist in the next town over that I'm sure would just LOVE to meet with you..."
Somehow I could tell that I would never be invited over to dinner. That his kids would never come to my apartment for free tutoring. Was it the mere mention of my disorder? Was he now seeing something in me that I couldn't see in myself. I burned to ask him these questions, fully aware that he would never give me an honest answer.
"Well thanks so much Dr. Fucker, and we're all looking forward to the next season!"
"My pleasure Marquis, you just bought 5B you said?"
He asked that last question with the aplumb of a man trained in playing mind games. Of course, he knew I didn't own 5B because HE owned 5B.
"No, 4B."
I wanted to ask him, 'don't you own 5B as well Dr. fuckingcocksucker?' but there was no point. He was testing my luciditity, right in front of my face and without even caring that I might know he owns 5B and that his question was absurd.
I went downstairs and stared at the name and number on the little sheet of paper. It went right in the trash.
So here I am, using lit as my surrogate psychologist and puffing on a J.
Sometimes I think the chameleon on my shoulder is going to come alive and devour me into metaphysical nothingness.
A funny thing happened today.
I've been thinking about the bipolar thing a lot recently for two reasons.
1) I try to stay in touch with people that know me well enough to see when I'm going nuts. It's not too hard for me to get it together when I realize what's going on, and usually if I feel myself getting edgy a smoke and a nap will set me straight. For the times I slip past myself, my friends are there to point it out and I take a pill that strangles Mr. Hyde on the spot. My interview skills are off the charts exceptional, meaning that most of the time if you didn't know me well we could probably hang out for hours without you realizing that I can't remember my middle name. Of course, the worse I get the quicker the curtain drops, and in the most extreme of circumstances I have a perceivable sanity half-life of about 5 minutes. For obvious reasons, I cannot afford to get to that level, I barely escaped the padded rooms last episode.
In any case, now that I'm working again, I don't have as much time to see people as I used to, so I'm forced to rely on my introspective skills. Hardly an infallible approach.
2) I've started a new job as a teacher, so obviously the stakes are higher than when being a beach bum and pick-up artist was my primary occupation. I interact with kids all day, and being a teacher, while fun, rewarding and stimulating, is not a stress free job. I can't smoke or take naps at school (my kids sure do though!), and I'm slightly concerned about flipping out in the clasroom.
With those things on my mind it seemed serendipitous when I found out that there was a psychiatrist living a floor above me.
I figured I'd drop in to say hi. His family owns all the units on one side of the building and always decorates the hallway elaborately during holidays. I figured that would serve as a less threatening introduction. (All nouns have been altered)
"Hello Dr. Fucker, my name is Marquis, I just bought unit 4B and I have to say I really love what you guys do with this hallway during holidays."
"Hey thanks Marquis, come on in."
brief small talk ensues
"So, Dr. Fucker, I'm not sure how to bring this up or even if it is appropriate but I was wondering if we could talk about bipolar disorder. I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder about a year ago and there are a few things that have always puzzled me about the disease."
There was a change just then. A change so subtle that it bore on the brink of imperceptibility to all but the most astute or imaginative of minds. Whether ghost or burglar, I heard a noise.
"Well hey, you know for all these really silly liability reasons and whatnot I really can't talk about that with you but here's the number of a great psychiatrist in the next town over that I'm sure would just LOVE to meet with you..."
Somehow I could tell that I would never be invited over to dinner. That his kids would never come to my apartment for free tutoring. Was it the mere mention of my disorder? Was he now seeing something in me that I couldn't see in myself. I burned to ask him these questions, fully aware that he would never give me an honest answer.
"Well thanks so much Dr. Fucker, and we're all looking forward to the next season!"
"My pleasure Marquis, you just bought 5B you said?"
He asked that last question with the aplumb of a man trained in playing mind games. Of course, he knew I didn't own 5B because HE owned 5B.
"No, 4B."
I wanted to ask him, 'don't you own 5B as well Dr. fuckingcocksucker?' but there was no point. He was testing my luciditity, right in front of my face and without even caring that I might know he owns 5B and that his question was absurd.
I went downstairs and stared at the name and number on the little sheet of paper. It went right in the trash.
So here I am, using lit as my surrogate psychologist and puffing on a J.
Sometimes I think the chameleon on my shoulder is going to come alive and devour me into metaphysical nothingness.
Pure
Fiel a Verdad
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That's a bummer, marquis. You need to guard your privacy, esp. about mental (and medication) and sex issues.
Be aware that shrinks and drs are often approached "Can you look at my throat, doc?" So they have standard polite put offs.
I would not assume too much as to his taking special measures to avoid you. But, is he not just a neighbor? So there is not necessarily socializing unless you become friends. You may have seen him as a potential friend, but maybe he hadn't decided; to him you may be only a neighbor. Maybe he wants it to stay that way.
It's a cruel truth, but even where *you may have needs the want quick satisfaction, there is no reason for others to adopt your 'express delivery' schedule. I myself draw back from those with a clear 'friendship and meeting' agenda and a fast schedule of events. You may be lonely as hell or hurt like hell, but you can't wear it on your sleeve or you'll scare away all but the healers and mommies.
Be aware that shrinks and drs are often approached "Can you look at my throat, doc?" So they have standard polite put offs.
I would not assume too much as to his taking special measures to avoid you. But, is he not just a neighbor? So there is not necessarily socializing unless you become friends. You may have seen him as a potential friend, but maybe he hadn't decided; to him you may be only a neighbor. Maybe he wants it to stay that way.
It's a cruel truth, but even where *you may have needs the want quick satisfaction, there is no reason for others to adopt your 'express delivery' schedule. I myself draw back from those with a clear 'friendship and meeting' agenda and a fast schedule of events. You may be lonely as hell or hurt like hell, but you can't wear it on your sleeve or you'll scare away all but the healers and mommies.
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Marquis
Jack Dawkins
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And those are the ones I don't want to talk to!
Oh well, I 've come up with a plan to handle this anyway. I am pouring myself into my work and my fitness, both of which will present a good challenge and concrete, meaningful goals. They will also let me stick to a schedule which will help keep me focused.
Oh well, I 've come up with a plan to handle this anyway. I am pouring myself into my work and my fitness, both of which will present a good challenge and concrete, meaningful goals. They will also let me stick to a schedule which will help keep me focused.
Netzach
>semiotics?
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well, I don't think attracting a healer at a time like this would necessarily be the worst thing, though surrogate mom shrinks are truly the worst.
I do admire your unwillingness to be seen as "the subject" or treated in the objectifying way that shrinks et al. often do treat their patients. I remember thinking at the back of my head every time I got the same inane recommendations "easy for you to say, you're not in a depression."
Excercise *is* never going to hurt. To me, it's a good practice to deal with doctors the same way I might deal with a bar full of hot women.When you strike out it's nothing personal, not gonna happen, move on to the next.
The benefit of a doctor/patient relationship where you *are* respected and listened to is huge. They are not easy to find, but possible. And hey, if you have insurance, use it, you are lucky.
I do admire your unwillingness to be seen as "the subject" or treated in the objectifying way that shrinks et al. often do treat their patients. I remember thinking at the back of my head every time I got the same inane recommendations "easy for you to say, you're not in a depression."
Excercise *is* never going to hurt. To me, it's a good practice to deal with doctors the same way I might deal with a bar full of hot women.When you strike out it's nothing personal, not gonna happen, move on to the next.
The benefit of a doctor/patient relationship where you *are* respected and listened to is huge. They are not easy to find, but possible. And hey, if you have insurance, use it, you are lucky.
Marquis
Jack Dawkins
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Honestly, I just find the experience so humiliating. I think bipolar patients are treated different from unipolar depression patients. How am I supposed to feel free talking to a guy who get's nervous when I ask him what kind of car he drives?
I can't just talk to myself the whole time, I can do that at home.
Plus, in Florida, for insurance reasons Psychiatrists are psychopharmacologists and outsource their therapy. Having to explain my shit to two people, plus get blood level testing once a month if I were to go on meds. Too damn much.
I do occassionally worry that one day old issues will catch up with me when I'm ready for a different kind of happiness and it would be nice to have that taken care of before my silver years. I'll deal with this at some point, I just don't really have the time right now. I have to work on a body long neglected and make sure 150 teenagers who have a 5th grade mean reading level learn something about the U.S. political system.
I can't just talk to myself the whole time, I can do that at home.
Plus, in Florida, for insurance reasons Psychiatrists are psychopharmacologists and outsource their therapy. Having to explain my shit to two people, plus get blood level testing once a month if I were to go on meds. Too damn much.
I do occassionally worry that one day old issues will catch up with me when I'm ready for a different kind of happiness and it would be nice to have that taken care of before my silver years. I'll deal with this at some point, I just don't really have the time right now. I have to work on a body long neglected and make sure 150 teenagers who have a 5th grade mean reading level learn something about the U.S. political system.
Silverlily
Kitty Mama - East Coast
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Dr. Fucker's comments and reaction may also have nothing to do with you. He may be the type that is only "on" in theoffice. Perhaps outside that space, his people skills suck. And there is always the possibility he simply is not a very good psychiatrist.
I agree with you that bipolar patients are treated differently. I think because of the changes in manifestation many doctors either overreact or blow it off. Bipolar disorder, depression, even anxiety are different. A doctor not familiar with the differences can really muck things up. Sadly, you often have to go through a lot of doctors until you find the right one.
I agree with you that bipolar patients are treated differently. I think because of the changes in manifestation many doctors either overreact or blow it off. Bipolar disorder, depression, even anxiety are different. A doctor not familiar with the differences can really muck things up. Sadly, you often have to go through a lot of doctors until you find the right one.
Netzach
>semiotics?
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I have no doubt health care practitioners make third class citizens out of bipolar patients, you are quite right about that. In general.
Likewise, I've never had a psychiatrist with any people skills at all. The sooner I was able to view my psychiatrist as "asshole who knows brain science from whom I can get meds" and shrink as "person to whom I can bitch about meds I don't like" the better it worked for me.
But it is humiliating, it is a full time job in itself-- all you are saying is true, all too often.
Likewise, I've never had a psychiatrist with any people skills at all. The sooner I was able to view my psychiatrist as "asshole who knows brain science from whom I can get meds" and shrink as "person to whom I can bitch about meds I don't like" the better it worked for me.
But it is humiliating, it is a full time job in itself-- all you are saying is true, all too often.
TaintedB
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Re: A story about fear.
I think you're misreading this part of the interaction. I think that people who shrink others for a living have the change in reaction to you, not because they care much about whatever disorder you have (there are a lot spookier ones than bipolar, as I'm sure you know) but because professional psychiatrists usually hate being asked in a non-professional setting for advise. MDs who didn't specialize in psychiatrity have the same reaction when people hear at a party that they are a doctor and then instantly start asking them stuff about various conditions. For a shrink the reaction is partly, "Oh no someone else is asking for advise outside a professional setting," even if all you do is ask for a book recommendation they have this attitude because they are so beleagered by people in general. The other part of it is fear, not fear that you are a nutcase and are going to kill their children, but fear of treating somebody (and even giving a book recommendation is percieved by some people as begining treatment) who lives nearby and can come by their apartment or house at any time. Shrinks generally have trouble with that even with people who don't live nearby: patients who have no boundaries showing up at their houses at all hours or stalking them or bugging their family members, so they get extremely protective about nipping anything like that in the bud. Too protective, in fact, as in most cases, it doesn't hurt to point somebody in the right direction to get help with a problem, but that one-in-ten person who will cause them trouble makes them respond this way to all people who approach them outside their offices. Finally, what he said about liability wasn't just an excuse to get rid of you. It is true. People sue medical professionals and institutions all the time over the slightest little thing, and just like we have to take care these days never ever to touch a stranger's child because we might be sued by some insane parent for "child sexual abuse" doctors have to take equal care not even to appear to give any advice, however casual, to someone who asks them outside the professional setting (i.e. prior to your signing certain documents that the doctor believes will protect him against a liability suit). Still, not all shrinks are as chickenshit as this one was. You just happened to run into a cowardly jerk. His blatent messing with you afterwards with the 5b/4b stuff is another example of what a jerk he is. You are much, much better off without his company, even in a professional settting.
I think you're misreading this part of the interaction. I think that people who shrink others for a living have the change in reaction to you, not because they care much about whatever disorder you have (there are a lot spookier ones than bipolar, as I'm sure you know) but because professional psychiatrists usually hate being asked in a non-professional setting for advise. MDs who didn't specialize in psychiatrity have the same reaction when people hear at a party that they are a doctor and then instantly start asking them stuff about various conditions. For a shrink the reaction is partly, "Oh no someone else is asking for advise outside a professional setting," even if all you do is ask for a book recommendation they have this attitude because they are so beleagered by people in general. The other part of it is fear, not fear that you are a nutcase and are going to kill their children, but fear of treating somebody (and even giving a book recommendation is percieved by some people as begining treatment) who lives nearby and can come by their apartment or house at any time. Shrinks generally have trouble with that even with people who don't live nearby: patients who have no boundaries showing up at their houses at all hours or stalking them or bugging their family members, so they get extremely protective about nipping anything like that in the bud. Too protective, in fact, as in most cases, it doesn't hurt to point somebody in the right direction to get help with a problem, but that one-in-ten person who will cause them trouble makes them respond this way to all people who approach them outside their offices. Finally, what he said about liability wasn't just an excuse to get rid of you. It is true. People sue medical professionals and institutions all the time over the slightest little thing, and just like we have to take care these days never ever to touch a stranger's child because we might be sued by some insane parent for "child sexual abuse" doctors have to take equal care not even to appear to give any advice, however casual, to someone who asks them outside the professional setting (i.e. prior to your signing certain documents that the doctor believes will protect him against a liability suit). Still, not all shrinks are as chickenshit as this one was. You just happened to run into a cowardly jerk. His blatent messing with you afterwards with the 5b/4b stuff is another example of what a jerk he is. You are much, much better off without his company, even in a professional settting.
rosco rathbone
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Spot on.
