Showing posts with label therapy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label therapy. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 7, 2021

Chapter 1: Section 5: Page 39: Line 80 (662)

 "Remorse without an object is a doorway to deliverance."

* * * * * * * * * *

Remorse (or the feeling of guilt) without an object (to the point: the cause of that remorse) is a doorway (or a path, a way, a means) to deliverance (liberation from that remorse and guilt). So Drave is basically saying, "Look! You've got it easy, buddy! You can't remember what you did wrong so you have no idea who you've wronged. Well good news! That makes it even easier to atone for that wrong! Without the object wronged by your actions, the only thing standing in your way of atonement and liberation from the guilt is you!"

Or maybe he's just saying, "The attitude of wanting atonement is the key to a liberated life." Those who seek forgiveness, who want to be better people, even without a concrete pain leading them to this decision, have found the only way to truly be free. Just wanting to be better already makes you slightly better.

Drave is like some kind of other-worldly, back-alley, carnival barker therapist. He is to Lew what blogging on the Internet is to me.

Tuesday, March 9, 2021

Chapter 1: Section 4: Page 31: Line 104 (476)

 As usual, he was in disguise, accompanied by bodyguards and secretaries.

* * * * * * * * * *

Oh boy! The Chums of Chance are going to have a right jolly super villain evil nemesis! Although I suppose everybody not on Scarsdale Vibe's payroll sees him as their nemesis. It's always nice, especially in a boys adventure novel, to have an obvious villain without any shades of gray to force the reader to have to think too deeply. Especially in the 21st century! People are tired of having to say things like "But the evil, vile dude who has destroyed half of the Amazon Rain Forest is so nice to little kids, dogs, and his neighbors! He's actually a really nice guy!" We're now living in a time where we can say, "Fuck you, dad. You don't love me. If you did, you wouldn't hold the political positions you do which make my life a living Hell. Isn't it convenient for you to be seen as a kind person to family and friends while maintaining the most ludicrously villainous political beliefs that we aren't allowed to talk about. As if those beliefs aren't the real you. As if the real you is the façade you put on every day while claiming you care about me. Not anymore, asshole."

Man! We're living in the best of times!

I'd probably travel in disguise too if showing my face anywhere meant getting beaned by rotten tomatoes or being shivved in an alley or having people scream out despicable and vulgar names right in my face in public! And just in case I do get recognized and harassed by people who have every right to harass me because I'm so awful, I'd always have a few bodyguards to teach them civility, if you know what I mean.

To kill them. I'd have them killed. Especially since it's 1893. Money makes right, baby!

Friday, March 5, 2021

Chapter 1: Section 4: Page 30: Line 91 (463)

 Having attended several useful symposia for airship commanders on techniques for avoiding the display of hurt feelings, Randolph could detect now that something was preying on the Professor's mind.

* * * * * * * * * *

"Having attended several useful symposia for airship commanders on techniques for avoiding the display of hurt feelings"
My technique for avoiding the display of hurt feelings is writing over 5000 blog posts across ten years. Who hurt my feelings? Everybody. If I know you, you've desperately hurt my feelings at one time or another and I've almost certainly not shown it. If you've hurt my feelings and I have shown it, that means you hurt my feelings so much that I finally broke. If you're my father, fuck you.
    Today on Twitter, I went in and read the tweets and replies of somebody whom I've never met but would probably have considered a friend. Until I read their shitty and terrible comments to and about other people who may as well be me and it fucking broke me.
    I'm so fucking tired. I don't want to do this anymore. I don't want to be human anymore. It's just too fucking hard.

*long sigh* Um, anyway, can you imagine how often Randolph has had to utilize the lessons he learned at these symposia simply because his first mate is that prick Lindsay Noseworth?

Wednesday, January 20, 2021

Chapter 1: Section 2: Page 17: Lines 116-120 (221-225)

 "Did I swear off? I must've been all confused in my mind. No tobacco! Say, it's the goldurn Keeley Cure around here. How do you people get through your day?"

* * * * * * * * * *

Before I look up the "Keeley Cure," I'm going to guess it's simply going cold turkey. That's not an astounding educated guess! That's me reading the text the way it was written and comprehending what's being said. But some people suck at comprehension so stating what you've just read in a different way seems impressive to them.

"Keeley Cure"
The Keeley Institute has a Wikipedia entry so you can go read that or read my version of it. I recommend my version of it because it'll be shorter and probably more vulgar. I add the vulgar part because in these days when all information is on the Internet, a blog like this Against the Day blog can only exist if something more is added other than pure information. All the information to understand every reference in a Pynchon novel is already out there. You can find it yourself or you can go to some Pynchon-wiki that does all the work for you. So why does this blog exist?! So that I can concentrate on all the boner references in Pynchon's work while pretending I'm trying to do some sort of academic project!
    Anyway, the Keeley Institute was created to cure alcoholism. Doctor Keeley Keeley was the first person to decide that alcoholism didn't occur because the alcoholic didn't have an ounce of that certain something that would have enabled them to be a Green Lantern. No, Dr. Keeley decided alcoholism was a disease! The Keeley Institute's slogan was "Drunkenness is a disease and I can cure it!" I would have gone with "we can cure it" as the Institute's slogan but what do I know? I'm terrible at branding! I'm not even marketing my Mason & Dixon: One Line at a Time blog! Except for that link. That'll be it! It's my secret blog! Keeley probably chose "I can cure it" to emphasize that any other "cure" that didn't include him was a definite hoax.
    Let me preface this by saying that I'm the son of an alcoholic father who divorced my mother when I was 2 and was only around enough during the next sixteen years to enable him to not get the moniker "deadbeat." So while I can intellectually wrap my head around the idea that addiction is a disease based on our imperfect genes, I also have to reckon with my emotional intelligence which screams, "Oh. How convenient! You get to abandon me for my entire childhood and then get sober to try to be my adult friend, somehow sidestepping all of the anger and fights and trauma that go along with raising a child which my mother had to deal with every day! And I'm supposed to just go, 'Yeah, well, it was a disease! I get it! I forgive you!' Well fuck that! I'm fairly certain you never gave me a proper Step 9 anyway! Your own son! Disease my ass! You were just a weak-willed selfish shit! Get fucked!"
    As you may have noticed, the Internet is my therapist.
    So, the Keeley Cure was to inject drunkards with "bichloride of gold" for a week or so. Which the Chums of Chance aren't doing so I guess Chick just sees their rule of no smoking as some method which would cause them to abstain from some vice.
    Eventually, Keeley died and, since he was the brand and he'd stuck that "I" in the slogan instead of the "we," the numbers of people who attempted the cure declined until the Institute was simply an old fashioned relic by the 1930s. At that time, according to the Wikiepedia, "most physicians believed that 'drunkards are neurotics and cannot be cured by injections.'" Just a second while I email that statement to my father.
    Well, that was actually longer than I thought it would be but still not as long as the Wikipedia. Plus there was that nice therapy session in the middle so I'm glad I wrote it!

"How do you people get through your day?"
Sheesh, Chick. Addict much? That's young person slang for "Why are you being so obvious and up front about serious inner flaws that you should maybe work harder to obfuscate from strangers on the Internet?" But I get it, Chick. I think the same thing every time I meet somebody who doesn't write five to ten blog entries per day. I mean, how do you cope with all of this *waves arms in every direction to indicate the banal cruelty of existence*.

One last serious (maybe?) note about addiction: whatever the cause of addiction, the cure ultimately amounts to the person realizing their life has gone so far off the rails that they know something must change. The "cure" is simply that thing which allows them to keep from engaging in the harmful habit. I believe Alcoholics Anonymous works for so many because it encourages community and help from others (this is also possibly what made the Keeley Institute work for those it worked for. If you read the Wiki, the original location especially became a sort of commune or village for people desperate to change their lives). Community and help from others are things that a person spiraling in addiction deny themselves. They are caught up in the narcissism and drama of their own lives, perhaps drinking to escape one kind of pain, or drinking because they simply feel more ("drinking" can be replaced by any other addictive behavior, of course). But even AA acknowledges that the cure must begin with the person wanting to change. AA is simply there to support that person's decision. It doesn't work as a cure; it works to encourage the "cure" which is the individual wanting to make different, less self-destructive choices. I'm absolutely all in for that kind of community. But it doesn't absolve my father for being a selfish, self-destructive asshole who flushed away our relationship because he couldn't be bothered to stop drinking. He chose to stop when I turned 18 because his own life was a wreck; he never chose to stop when I was 2 or 4 or 8 or 12 when I was hurting thanks to his absence.