I am smarter than the average puppymonkeybaby, but I am feeling stumped.
Perhaps my subconscious hasn’t had enough time to simmer on this problem, but I am under a deadline for an answer.
The thesis is: What symbolism can I employ to express the feelings of loneliness, abandonment, depression, hopelessness, and despair that I sometimes feel after managing a crisis?
During the crisis, I lock all these things up and work the problem. But the moment my brain says “crisis abated” the door flies open and all the accumulated shit dumps on me. It is a dark place. I don’t like it.
Ideally, I would just avoid the crisis, but life doesn’t work like that.
The medium of expression needs to be new, or at least different than my goto. Literary expression is incompatible in those moments. And rage monster till physical exhaustion is messy, hazardous, and trends towards a diminishing value of return as it feeds the cycle.
I am thinking sculptural, maybe.
I’m not asking for answers, per se. Suggestions are welcome though.
Here at the Robot Farm (where we farm for robots, not where robots farm) I am regarded as an expert in many things. A face that depresses me to no end, but I digress.
Today the question was, ” Are vampires susceptible to bloodborne pathogens?”
The answer is of course “It depends on the mythology, and the whims of the author.”
It’s kind of a trope now though.
“I am immortal, immune to time and all diseases….. whoops, except that one…. YIPES!”
It does create some interesting problems though. For example, would Ebola act as a communicable form of Bulimia in vampires? So they would be locked in a cycle of binging and purging?
Could it be that it was designed as a form of capital punishment for vampires by vampires, but then it mutated? Or some enterprising amateur archeologist dug up one of the punished and was exposed.
Now there is a story idea.
Don’t you hate it when your significant other steals your hat and it looks better on them than it does on you?
I know what you are thinking. Oh gods, not more food porn. But I assure you, this is much worse. It is a story. It started with an idea. So I took some of that whole clove garlic bread that they make at Krogers. Lightly buttered and sprinkled with even more garlic, I toasted them. Then I spooned on some of my favored brand of spaghetti sauce, laid on some Munster cheese and toasted it again. All because of an idea.
I call them, Faux Katchia.
… that was the idea.
Nothing more than a bad dad joke.
Now you either hate me, or you want a snack.
See, I warned you that it was much worse.
The t-shirt of the day came early.
Saving you from the dangers of bacon, every day.
Here at the Robot Farm ( where we farm for robots, not where robots farm) we have an individual with the commonly improbable name of Jones. This leads to all sorts of implied connections. No doubt you are thinking of several right now. But the most recent one being he has invested in several rental properties. We minions like to bend everything into hyperbole, so we keep pestering this budding real estate tycoon.
Do you have enough houses to make your own subdivision yet? As if you could just pick them up and move them closer together. Do you have enough for a village? How about a TOWN?
Yes, that is where it inevitable went. He is now building Jonestown.
But that isn’t my point here, not directly.
That topic lead of course to Kool-aid. Now “drinking the Kool-Aid” becomes the expected metaphor for blindly accepting the company line that we are on top of shit and everything is gonna be ok….. never mind that layoff last month, the minimal workload, and the latest quirks in the new product line.
My point is, this led to the invention of a new idea
What if it wasn’t Kool-Aid…. but had the same effect….. and was served at the House of Whiteness? To make everyone believe….
It would have to be an extra strong orange, not like Kool-Aid but like TANG…..the special formula used by Space Force.
But it would need an additive, something unique to the subject material…. like…. say…. thinking of something totally random.
Like stirring it up with Trump’s penis.
Yes… that is it. The secret mind control beverage served at the White House must be WANG TANG!
It could only be mixed in small batches though.
At least, according to Stormy Daniels.
The t-shirt of the day is…
“I’ve got all the wang I need. ”
It works for straight men, lesbians, and a decent number of gay men.
I will leave the “need more wang” shirts to someone else. No point in being greedy.
This quote always makes me laugh because it is just so true.
BUT, just in case you weren’t sure….
“Things are more like they are now than they ever were before.”
-Dwight D. Eisenhower
The 34th president.
Robertson Davies once said.
“Few people can see genius in someone who has offended them.”
Or to put that into the common vernacular
It doesn’t matter how smart you are if you are a dick about it.