Like Suicide

So it’s been a year since singer, songwriter, musician, Chris Cornell, decided to end his life in the bathroom of his hotel room following a concert in Detroit. Fans at the show described his performance as being a little off and his wife said he was slurring his speech in a phone call earlier that night he was found dead, telling her that he was “just tired” before hanging up.

Police report: Cornell told wife, ‘I am just tired’

Soundgarden frontman’s wife asked bodyguard to check on him in Detroit hotel room after he sounded “groggy” on the phone

DETROITNEWS.COM | @detroitnews

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Annihilation / Wondrous And Horrifying

I don’t often post public reviews unless I’m really quite impressed or disappointed by some consumed thing. Serendipitiously, Annihilation climbs into the former category.

Basically, a 12th team comprised of scientists enter a shimmering, expanding area (the “Shimmer”) from whence the previous 11 teams failed to return to make their way to whatever it is precipitating this mysterious phenomenon located at the lighthouse in the center of it.

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This Isn’t The Validation You’re Looking For / Narcissists Denial of, well … Everything

I reject your reality and substitute my own.
—Adam Savage (Mythbusters)

When someone who’s hurt us behaves as though nothing is wrong, they deny what we feel. When confronted and reacting as though we’ve hurt them, they deny us once again and put a fiction in our place.

And in their place, we move through the subsequent Kubler-Ross stages of grief for them as externalized ego-functions of them. We’re infuriated, confused. We try desperately to reason with them, to save both ourselves and the relationship. And when it becomes dreadfully apparent that it is we, not they, who must choose one or the other then we feel sadness. It is at this critical juncture, this decision at this point that separates the narcissist and their enablers from we who survive and succeed them.

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The Way Is Shut. It Was Made By Those Who Disabled Your Facebook Account, And The Facebook Keeps It.

Those “Log in with Facebook” sign in options you see on sites around the internet — just don’t do it! Nor any other third party service like Yahoo!, Twitter, Google, etc. for that matter. But Facebook is the most capricious.

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RIP Aunt Nancy 😔

Mother called me by mistake – let that sink in – and left a brief voicemail saying that her younger sister, my aunt, had passed on.

Mother
Hi. This is mom. I thought I’d get [your father, my ex-husband]. Just wanted to let you know that [your aunt, my sister] Nancy died this morning. Okay. Bye.

I’ll always remember my aunt being an excitable, little woman. She resembled Mother but with black hair instead of blond and smaller. Actress, Juliette Lewis, and singer, Cindi Lauper, remind me of her.

She married several times — at least twice. I remember two of her husbands: Uncle Eli and Uncle Mark. Both good people as far I knew them. Very patient. No children.

If there is a god and a heaven as my aunt believed then I hope she is made whole and finds peace and rest from suffering there.

 

Death by Disney / Losing Star Wars to The Dark Side

So I fulfilled my destiny and gave Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi not a watch so much as a long (2.5 hours), concerned stare. And it is with sad disappointment that I must say it continues what’s become a trend in this saga of sucking mightily; which, in and of itself, wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t shitting all over something of priceless sentimental value.

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Ol’ Saint Prick / Narcissist as Compulsive Giver, Misanthropic Altruist

I’ve apparently been sent a “gift” for Christmas from Brother through our father. Earlier this year Sister also used our father to deliver a “gift” on my birthday. These are two people who have expressed nothing but contempt for me in the past, have nothing to do with me in the present and for whom my future has no place. People who don’t like me, don’t give me things. But these do. So what I am to make of this seemingly conflicted, crazy-making behavior?

It’s never overtly spelled out but I think I know what I’m supposed to do, what my prescribed role is and what my unspoken expected response should be in all this: forgive, forget, move on (which is to say, reset back to default) and receive this “gift” in lieu of acknowledging, much less resolving any of our problems and, further, as a down payment to justify future abuse. This is giving a “gift” the same way a fisherman “feeds” a fish — always with strings attached.

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Happy Humbuggery / Festivus For What’s Left Of Us

The Christmas season – now barely held at bay by the monsters of Halloween lest it begin after the smoke of Independence Day clears – is a stressful time of year for many people. I’m not one of those people. But even I feel a palpable sense of relief on Christmas Day as though the Yule Log were a metaphor for a difficult bowel movement.

Between Thanksgiving and Christmas, there are mass migrations during some of the worst weather conditions of the year in order to reconnect with families, exchange gifts and open old wounds. Mix the blood sport of Black Friday and the impending deadline, guilt-driven, mass media drumming, last minute Christmas Eve shopping into this generalized manic-depressive social malaise and you’ve got a season of survival more so than that of celebration. Pa-rum pum pum pum! 🎶

But not for me. Continue reading Happy Humbuggery / Festivus For What’s Left Of Us