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Humurous Ideas

writing humor poetry writing lyrical poetry Writing surreal poetry

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#1 warrenscott.

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Posted 17 July 2014 - 11:30 PM

I studied language in a university.  I mean I bore down on it so fast and so hard and for so long that I diversified.  I studied logic, I studied rhetoric, I studied semantics, I studied theory, I studied grammar, I studied literature, I studied Drama, I studied Shakespeare, I read every classic.  But I did a whole lot of that before I went to college because television was not allowed in my home and no one wanted to play monopoly with me or scrabble with me or spades with me or hearts with me or checkers because I always won.  But my Dad loved to play chess with me and that was important because I could never beat him.  If I had known then, what I know now, I would have tried to get him interested in Backgammon and see what happened.  I would have overcome all the humility of getting beaten at chess.  He was also good at split level tic tac toe, the kind with the clear and blue marbles if anyone remembers them.  I was still playing with yo-yo's too and riding bicycles.  I was normal and a nerd, which should have indicated language was the discipline of choice I could not avoid.

Then I decided not to go to law school and my parents were angry.  Then fifteen years went unaccounted for after I wrote and published several poems that were short and weird enough to please tedious people.  I became a self-proclaimed tutor, editor, blogger, and worked for several non-profit organizations.  I worked as a paralegal and did some serious stuff I did not enjoy and did not even charge money for it because the cause justified the dedication, time and effort.  I gave my talents to the benefit of others and stayed reluctantly humble all of the time.  My life was really great.  I did not have to get married or divorced, or take anything seriously I did not want to.  and I did not want to. 

Then I fell in love and she had two strokes in one year and I was diagnosed Parkinson's Disease.  It does not matter if you really think about it.  We are only human and you can only use that excuse for too long.  And it is because I realized that an informed opinion is better than a dog with rabies.  Some of my Tumblr fans might see this paragraph and remember some of this.  But I have written like five books in one year because sinemet does not help my symptoms but it is like rocket fuel to my creativity and inspiration, and constipation.  I am looking for a few worthy writers to join forces with me in a plot to unleash upon the unsuspecting world many tomes of writ that may be considered by people who want to laugh, but don't really know how because their motivation to do so is so challenged by the world.  And if you have a brain you are supposed to use it for serious things, I guess.  I did my share of that and maybe you did too and maybe you are like me and want to join my foundation and send some proceeds to this foundation and other worthy ones while making some cash for yourself.  I want starving artists who barely can eat once a day on the list of authors I will send to the government from my undisclosed location that has to have a physical address and someone living there needs to expect audits here and there enough to take seriously.  No pit in the ground pouring money. This is real. DANA did it. Where did they go to?  Anyway, get to me through my email scottbratcher@hotmail.com  and we will see what is what and who is who in this visionary thing.  Finis.



#2 New normal

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Posted 18 July 2014 - 02:00 AM

Good luck! :) There is a essay on the correlation of PD and creativity on the home page.

#3 warrenscott.

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Posted 24 July 2014 - 10:21 PM

   Many people are sure that there are brain chemicals, hormones, known to interact with other hormones and parts of the brain.  The problem is, that they really do not know much other than that and never will.  Really, it all breaks down to a brain that has been assumed unreliable for a society so demented with normality that it barely functions and when it does, it destroys itself through history with a lot of success.  So what happens in the Basal Ganglia or what kind of receptors can do what and what kind of mumbo jumbo, unproven and irrational ideas about how irrationality must be defined and acknowledged is circulating through the grand halls of our academies full of optimistic, idealistic, people who are concurrently cynical, greedy and always wrong about everything they do. 

   A lot of semantic mischief needs to be scrolled down and observed, fit into patterns of knowledge that assemble at the same graveyard of the rites of passage a really genuine and sincere scientist must assume.  I am not much of a mystical person when it comes to trusting people in general and that probably makes me a paranormal deintelligenated arguephone primarily and a parnoia avalanched folie aux un.  Jung and Freud dreamed I would surface someday as they were sitting in the church of politeness effigies and puppets of Vatinical barnacle songs.  I hear them now in perfect pitch, their rich sound of aura so spastic to the point of approximation and fun.  But this point is indirectly mentioned in a book about the holy grail and Jung was on a dog of a jimpsonweed binge at the time.  Many oars rowed our collective triumphs past the siren songs of behaviorism into a hollow depth of inquisitive tinnitus called modern science.  Every time in history calls itself modern even if they used an older form of a word for it and word etymologies are about as reliable as neurological science is today.  If you say the word "vulgate" after "Latin" it hypnotizes people into near life experiences and makes their GPA's rise in direct proportion to the number of sex fantasies they cannot achieve in real life.  Anyway.

    My real problem with DBS is that it is really just BS and they should have just left the D off it and called the receptors D.  I mentioned that somewhere else so some of my memory is still in there hanging from the bush on the cliff that Wiley Coyote always falls down from and gets up in perfect condition by the next sequence.  That is exactly what happens to ninety seven percent of people whose parkinsonism is secondary, but the rest really get splattered there on the canyon floor and have to be censored out despite all those brave and kindhearted civil libertarians out there who are really doing all they can to help everyone and everything on the planet.  They are almost as godlike as psychology but I think that eventually neurology is going to win this fight only sadly, I will not live to see it.  Well, not on this utopian planet we have here at any rate.  I am always wondering how acytecholine and noreprenephrine are doing when their car is parked at the same hotel while dopamine is at home babysitting.  Adrenaline is always on the toilet, training himself for one more chance to prove he matters as serotonin is just hanging around the synapses as long as we can make him do it and it really seems to be doing one heck of a job, if you ask me.  And I know you really want to do that.

   Science looks impressive in journals in all this mish mash of base 10 finite math, well for psychologists more than most, and neurology is in the background waiting for his turn and he is going to be Oliver Twist and ask for another bowl of cold porridge.  I think that nobody that has a brain like say, Thomas Pynchon could do a worse job of messing things up.  That is why I admire Pynchon who always can help you in a pinch.  Science cannot do that.  I am really kind of sad about how odd the human condition becomes when it takes itself seriously enough to have a language to communicate with and another to transmit pleasant sounds or dissonant sounds that imitate each other all day and if a person perceives something different than that he becomes abnormal, atypical, and a feast of insecure defenders of the status quo who walk the goosestep behind them with a lot of polite ways of suffocating you and confining you and all your "irrationality."  Hey, I am beginning to think that a hot dog without mustard is also atypical and a freak of genetics.  There are stories about Roswell, NM that are more compelling than science.  Hell, I read science books and take them seriously and I read books about all types of things and take them seriously but that grain of salt has to be added or my OH will get me dizzy.  Actually it is POTS, which is almost a thousand galaxies away from OH, except that they are almost the same thing but called different things.  Like if you have REM sleep disorder and you never sleep in the daytime but the sleep disorder clinic wants to say you have narcolepsy instead of something different.  Duh.  Yeah, the REM is really off.  That much isn't hard to figure when you kick your cat and girlfriend to the point you have to get a casket to sleep in, which also prepares you for sleep paralysis in case you get that from some medication they give you to cure some other condition they have arranged to put the domino effect into.  Yeah, the domino effect is what made the soviets win the cold war, everyone knows that.  But we won it when we put men on the moon first and Tom Wolfe had another book to write and that made his agent happy. 

   Dude, look at it this way, you need to use the imagination God gave you or whatever inspiration put it there as long as it has some type of value more easily proven than science and join forces with the only foundation in the world that is honest and is going to give money to this foundation despite reasons that could be counter argued but won't be, because I am not sure just yet how every legality in the world is worked out in the process of law, very different indeed than the words that cause lines of script to form into linear shapes usually fairly straight and never seem to stop as soon as you want them to.  Come on, man, just give it a shot and see what you can show me.  I know you are out there.  This foundation needs more money than it thinks it needs and people who make fun of things even just the slightest bit, just enough to seem professional about it, can cause everyone on the planet to buy into your humor.  Humor is second only to religion in popularity and if you think about if long enough you can just add the two together and see how much more science comes in third, or seventh.  I was forgetting about Duck Dynasty and the Gluten police. 



#4 TeresaJ

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Posted 25 July 2014 - 11:09 AM

Warren,
I wish you all the luck in the world. I'm trying very hard to keep up with your train of thought in your posts, but my simplistic mind just can't fire as quickly as yours. In my life I have met a few people like you who's creativity was stifled by illnesses, and their medications like lithium and such. I think you know what I mean. For those people, daily life was hellish because they could not express themselves the way they wanted. Also, for the people around those folks, those who cared about them it was equally hellish because they wanted to desperately to understand, but couldn't.
I hope you find a balance Warren. I don't want you to stop trying to express yourself in appropriate ways that is helpful to your journey. Because if you stop trying to express yourself you might not find your balance.
Also, please try to be patient with me and people like me, who want to keep up, but are having a hard time. Bless you on your journey!

#5 young_dad

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Posted 25 July 2014 - 02:28 PM

Warren,

 

You may want to see if you can get in touch with the authors of this book.

 

The Peripatetic Pursuit of Parkinson Disease by The Parkinsons Creative Collective

Sounds like what you might be looking for.

 

Jeff



#6 warrenscott.

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Posted 25 July 2014 - 08:43 PM

Thanks, Jeff.  I do not like to be a self-entertainer and yes, fifteen years of lithium suddenly freed from the subordinate state into a creative supervolcano of carb/levo left me bewildered, because even though I had established myself a little bit before that, I really bought into what professionals were saying on the wrong side of the fence.  I found love, I found life and I found happiness and peace of mind.  Before that, I was a walking zombie without any resistance to any type of manipulations.  And worse than that I was more demotivated than a pot smoker in a room full of Pink Floyd albums and a nice couch.  Only, I think they must have been having more fun.  Thank you for your advice and I will explore this with vim and vigor.  My body is a big mess of wreckage, Jeff.  Do not let the speed of my mind fool you.  Pain is my companion despite all the wonders I thought beyond me and that only gave what those in charge had to say more relevance. 






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