To the Brethren

Hi there. I'm Jeff. You don't really know me personally but if you have read many of my writings you probably know a helluva lot about me. And, if you've read more than a few of those writings I'll bet you two shits to a baby's fart that you know that I'm a bit twisted in the head due to a little thing called manic-depressive or bipolar disorder.

I'll roll the dice and take it a step farther and exclaim that if you've read enough of my writings, experienced my life through my words and lived through my mind's eyes, yes, eyes, then you know that my 'disorder' is not a curse. It is both a blessing and a curse. By god with a lower case 'G', it's more of a blessing than a curse if anything and tonight that came into focus once again through a conversation with a fellow bipolar 'sufferer' (emphasis added).

It all started with a quote by Deepak Chopra stating that in order to know yourself and get in touch with yourself and your soul you must have peace of mind, quiet and solitude. Or some shit like that. You see, I took issue, because, my mind never stops racing. And, contrary to popular belief, especially amongst my 'suffering' contemporaries, that's not such a bad thing. Solitude, to me, is a bad thing. Bad, bad, bad. Before you go all batshit crazy on me too, let me elaborate.....

I relish my alone time. I just like my alone time with my many voices to talk amongst themselves.

So, as you might imagine, I commented on Mr. Chopra's quote and swiftly incurred the ire of the poster of his quote. Not only was I chastised for my views on solitude, but I was promptly directed to a site that supposedly treats brain disorders for people like 'us'. Oh boy. Game on. Now, I'm in my element.

Next up.... I was asked, "are you on meds?" " what meds are you on?" "have you tried natural meds?" "the brain the the most important organ in the body".... yada yada yada....

Soon, another follower of the Chopra poster sees my profile picture which, by the way, shows me holding a glass of fine cabernet and toking on a nicely rolled cigar, chimes in and remarks, "I sure hope you're not drinking that wine if you're on any meds"....

Self-righteous, pretentious prickless pricks.

Hello. Let me introduce you to the wishicould idiot club.

What I abhor is having others who don't have a clue about who I am, where I've been or where I'm going giving me advice about who I should be, where I should go or what I should have done.

At this point, I know myself better than anyone on this entire fucking blue and brown ball and as such, I know how my mind works better on any given day whether it's medicated, sober, electrified, somber, filled with voices, echoing with nothingness, numb or normal.

Normal, a word that frightens me worse than anything else. Normal isn't what we are meant to be. Yet, my Facebook 'friend' and many other of my bipolar brethren think that 'normal is the goal that we all should strive to achieve. A normal mind, a normal life.

Not me. Normal is mundane. Normal is a suit. Normal is nine to five and a minivan. Normal is everyone else. Normal is mandated solitude.

I prefer the voices. They keep things interesting.

Fuck you, Deepak.

Reject the Turkey Foot. Be Yourself.

What is a Hokie anyway?

In my mind, a Hokie is a stupid, outdated expression or way of doing something. It's a redneck term term meant to describe something trite and completely without merit.

"Hey, look at that guy's hokie hat... it's so 80's"...
"What a hokie outfit... where'd she get it? The Dollar Tree?"

Yet, today, for what must have been for the twenty-sixth thousandth and fifth time, a luxury SUV passed me on the interstate with one of those damned Virginia Tech turkey feet magnets affixed to the rear hatchback with 'Proud Parent of a Hokie" and " HOKIE ALUM" Window Decals prominently displayed. This was after seeing the 'VT' license plate approaching in my rear-view mirror.

Proud to be a turkey. Or a Hokie. I didn't even know a turkey was a hokie, or vice-versa. To be quite honest, I really don't give a shit either way.

My issue isn't with Hokies, although where I live affords me the unfortunate luxury of abhoring the gold and burgundy turkey foot that represents a university known for academics. Turkey feet are everywhere.

As you might guess, my issue go much deeper. Let's delve into the psyche of the post-graduate mindset, shall we?

I wonder, what posesses these people to continue to support an institution of higher education after graduation? Why the rabid rallies? The men and women that continue to rally for an institution that basically did nothing more than act as entity that was paid to do a job seems to be blind to the fact that the men and women that helped them aren't the ones on the starting defensive line.

Myself, when I left school, I came away with memories and a degree or two. That's all I need. I don't understand needing having to tie oneself to an institution after being released. If that were the case, I'd have kept my orange jumpsuit after my last jail stay. Go Orange.
But really. I understand everyone needing a sense of community at one point or another. But what I can see in those who can't let go of college and high school is a lack of sense of self.

Sure everyone needs community. Nobody needs turkey feet. Everybody needs self.

You're NOT gonna like me after this.

The most humorous thing I witnessed today was an ad for the website FarmersOnly.com. Not only is the ad itself humorous but it was placed squarely in the midst of a National Geographic special on cocaine and marijuana use. But, that's not the funny part, stick with me for a moment .... in the ad, there is a talking cow. A talking cow in an ad during a show that basically admonishishes drug use.

Insert chuckles here. I did.

I realized at this time, and while later watching reruns of Moonshiners, that I've never really elaborated on a warped mind's view of drug use. How lax of me. I'm better than that, given that I have a staunch view on everything. So, that being said, allow me to elaborate.

Let me start with the obvious. Sure, it's been stated, overstated and argued to death. I don't give a rat's ass and a monkey turd. Marijuana. I'll keep it short and simple. Personally, I don't like it. It brings me down and I don't like to be down. To me,a good mellow is a glass of Merlot by the fire. Yeah, I said Merlot. Deal with it. I prefer a nicely chopped and preferably uncut stimulant. It suits me and my mentality.

Now where is all of this going, you may ask. I'm working on that. But in a nutsack, it's this. There is no war on drugs and drugs that are targets for eradication by those who think they know best are never going to go away. Cannabis, despite my not having a like for the plant, is natural and was obviously placed upon this planet to do mankind a favor, just as coffee, chocolate and the coca leaf.

Until our all encompassing, yet blind goverment finds a way to make money from this plant, it will be illegal. Here's the rub.... the two most killer, yet legal substances in our misguided country, tobacco and alcohol, are making million, nay, billions, for those in seats of power in the dome of the capitol rock. Yet, another natural substance with real benefits sits as a hindrance to society because those 'in charge' can't find a way to make money from it.

Fuckin' idiots. Take a lesson from the high school kids. No, that would be beneath you and your supposed intelligence.

I ought not say more or incriminate myself. Oh, what the hell. You know me by now. I've done it, tried it and said it all at this point. I have my favorites. I know what works for me and what doesn't. I know what keeps me alive and what keeps me from taking the final plunge.

Am I against drugs? Yes. Am I for drugs, Hell yes.  It's all in how you approach them. I use alcohol to bring be down to a level where I can relate to mankind. I use the coca leaf and it's extracts to bring me to a place where I can fing myself. Sure, I'm odd and out of touch with normality. But I don't want to be in touch with normality. Normality is mundane and boring. Normality it not where we are meant to be.

You can make the argument that using substances to subtract oneself from life is a copout. I see that and I understand your viewpoint. What you don't understand is my viewpoint. You don't see my  take of normality. And for me, that's unfortunate. As unfortunate as how you view my existence.

A talking cow? I didn't make that shit up.

I Have Found the Source of Inhumanity Towards Man.

Many have speculated throughout the years as to the greatest invention of all-time. The invention that has enabled mankind to evolve and flourish, enable a boom in intelligence, financial gain and a source of mankind's survival.
A recent documentary labeled the wheel as the greatest invention that mankind, or mankind's puppeteers, has ever engineered. When you stop and think about it, that might be a correct assessment. Wheels enable movement, cogs are wheels that power enormourous force. Wheels enable us to move at many times the speed of our own two flat feet. Wheels are everywhere. Shit man, it's a circle. And circles are universally known for unstoppable movement.

But allow me to back up for a moment and elaborate on the worst invention of all time. Yes, the worst invention. And no, it's not The Clapper. Nor is it the Snuggie, the Chia Pet, although the Chia is a damn fine invention.

The worst invention of all time, in my book, is........ the wheel.

Sure, it rolls. I can set my watch to one. REO Speedwagon had a helluva fine song revolving around it. But, I have an issue with the wheel. Not just one wheel, but four of them rolling in tandem and oftentimes with torque.

The wheels I'm referring to follow me too closely and quite often linger too closely in front of my wheels due to not quite enough torque being applied. You see, all of these wheels carry us from one destination to another in the form of a motorcar, car, automobile or asshole transporter...however you choose to refer to it.

I'm of the opinion that if Albert Einstein, arguably one of the most intelligent men to ever walk amongst us, were to strap himself into a car, his IQ would drop by at least 200 points. Face it, most of mankind doesn't have 200 points of IQ to lose but most of them do own a car. And, when the most intelligent of people buckle that seatbelt, or in the case of rednecks tighten that slipknot at the waist, fire up that engine and aim themselves towards their destinations in whatever make and model of their choosing, their love and compassion of fellow mankind flies out of the window as fast as the fingers they extend when the person ahead doesn't move quickly enough after the light turns green.

The wheel. The greatest hindrance to harmonious living since organized religion. And even religious types aren't immune from the wrath of the wheel. Who hasn't seen minivans sporting 'Jesus Fish' decals or license plates with some Bible verse suddenly have an extended arm, voice or threat directed towards them due to the driver's supposed way of thinking how those wheeels should roll. Faster or slower. Stopped or moving.

It's quite apparent to me that humankind is capable of living harmoniously is we are all able to make it to our divine destinations without delay. Damn thee, wheel. You deny humankind harmonious living. Sure, we can call it road rage, impatience, whatever. What it comes down to is the fact that we are all individuals with our own agendas and time is our enemy. And, when we combine pride, agenda and time with a wheel, or four wheels, we are all pricks with a disdain for humanity. And furthermore, if you disagree with me, you're fooling yourself.

Know what's worse? Bicyclists. Talk about a sense of entitlement. And why do they all wear spandex?

Wheels will be the downfall of mankind. Not global warming or nuclear war. Wheels.