100% Totally Mullet
Greetings. It’s summer here in Hellstown. Which can mean only three things.
1. I have the energy level of a slug in a mud puddle who just snorted up a couple of Quaaludes followed by a beer chaser aka 1970s Pornstar Happy Hour.
2. It’s humid, which makes my wrists and forearms stick to this here computer. It’s unpleasant.
3. The resultant torpor makes my grammar, pronunciation and usage of idiomatic expression come out all slow and rednecky. That’s right - Dr. Ding’s serum hillbilly levels rise precipitiously during the summer months. Which is why all I’m posting today is this here list from CaryMc over at LOTD.
You can thank me later.
Dr. Ding Goes To Boulder
That’s right, bitches. Dr. Ding is in Boulder, CO at an energy psychology conference. And I’m learning stuff completely unrelated to my more usual tropes of glitter, drag queen spirituality, sarcastic responses to reader mail and/or taking pot shots at Dr. Phil.
The stuff I’m learning here has more to do with subtle energy fields and the Holy Silver Go-Go Boots of GirlJesus™, plus all kinds of mystical psychotherapeutic shit that only a True Psychology Ninja can master. But only while wearing gauzy M.C. Hammer pants and listening to Yanni.
Jealous much?
Thought so.
I’ll be back when I’m damn good and ready.
When Hipsters Go Bad
Dr. Ding exhorts y’all to take a hard look at the hipster pictured above so that you can avoid his current predicament, for you see this is actually a police mugshot from TheSmokingGun, via ListOfTheDay qua my hilarious co-conspirator and purveyor of all things listy, CaryMc.
There are five defining aspects of Hipster Gone Bad Syndrome, and you should be ever-mindful of them so that you can avoid a similar fate as that of Mr. Smartass McSmugpants up there.
1. An affected love of Parliament cigarettes. Those things are foul, kinda like Lucky Strikes, and they taste like cow dung, only not as good. Shut up, I know what I just said. Unless you’re in the 1940s and headed off to strafe Jerry with tracer bullets from your F6F Hellcat, you shouldn’t smoke them.
2. Wearing a moustache that makes you look like a) you’re the slightly retarded cousin of the Archduke Ferdinand, b) you huff gaslight fumes in the front parlor when the butler isn’t looking, and/or c) you should be tying some unsuspecting young lass to a set of railroad tracks. This marks you as Someone Who Is Trying Too Hard. Put down the slim volume of obscure poetry you only carry for mackdaddy purposes Slick, and step away from the Brylcreem.
3. Inability to express emotion in a non-ironic, non-sarcastic, manner. What? A hipster who can’t seem to avoid the pretense of cool, detached intellectualism? Or who makes an indecipherable but supposedly bemused facial expression when s/he’s being printed and photographed in a police station? Why, that’s amazing.
4. Pronounced tendency to overuse certain expressions, especially “amazing” “awesome” and “bust a Moby.” This is perhaps the most irritaing symptom, as it runs counter to the tendency for the Hipster to try to look articulate and literate, and often produces a sense of overwhelming and ennui-laden strain in the listener as the Hipster then spits “mad verse.” Ugh.
5. Tight pants. This is possibly the biological, even primordial origin of the convoluted insincerity of the modern hipster. When confined to narrow, drainpipe-style pants, it is theorized (Dingenstein et al, 2007) that the ensuing circulatory sequelae are such that the individual wearing said pants becomes functionally oxygen-depleted. This in turn creates a cascade of neurological events negatively impacting the frontal lobes of the brain, fostering ideal conditions for the aforementioned inauthenticities to arise.
Note: it’s considered sub-clinical if an individual exhibits, say 1/5 of the above. These diagnostic critera will tend to fluctuate with the presence of moderator variables such as Converse sneaker availability, vintage concert t-shirts, and really good weed.
Source
Dingenstein, X., Ding, D., & Dingulator, D.R. (2007) Whither thou shruggest: a critique of modern inauthentic subcultural trends. Houston: Ridonculonk Books.
Misc.
A few things:
1) I can’t believe I’m getting paid by UGO to write sexy times articles for them. WOW.
2) I just joined Facebook today and made peace with the girl who occasionally tried to bully me in the 7th grade when we had adjacent lockers. Who knew Facebook was teh peacemaker? The funny thing: she wasn’t a very good bully actually. Mad props to her for apologizing anyway.
3) I start my new job tomorrow. Pretty much the same as my old job, but without the crazy business decisions and questionable ethics.
4) I’ve been asked recently about the Dingian approach to Getting Things Done (GTD), and it is pretty much this, divided into Boring and Non-Boring:
Boring:
Keep a calendar on gCal that pings my Crackberry.
Almost always answer emails and phonecalls ASAP.
Have a propensity to turn my phone off on weekends/evenings, permiting me to focus and relax better.
Write stuff down on this thing called paper and make prioritized lists once a week.
Non-Boring:
Writing longhand slows me down and helps me think more clearly.
Unplug 100% at regular intervals, sometimes all day, to switch up brain hemispheres.
Read books, daydream, nap, and focus on being in-the-moment.
Stare out the window and space out. Drink tea. Stretch. Play with dog.
Reminisce fondly.
Know that there’s nowhere to be and nothing to do, really.
A little liquor drink cuts the phlegm sometimes.
Also, glitter.
5) I should probably do the decent thing and explain the method behind the Dingian Way, but meh. Well, meh, plus I’m positive you’re all clever enough to figure it out.
6) My mother thinks this blog is: “Raunchy!”
Friday Diatribe
AskDrDing hasn’t featured a good, ole-fashioned Friday Diatribe in a long time. Sometimes I write best when I’m pissed off.
And you know what pisses me off today? The following miscellany.
1. The startling revelation Cher is most assuredly not considered an archetypal figure by hardcore Jungians. Trust me - I’ve looked into this. And I’ll put it to you thusly: since when is one’s Sacred Inner Drag Queen not a powerful female archetype representing the enternal and triune power of glamour, ostrich plumes and sequins? It’s this kind of intellectual stubborness, this outright rejection of the sublime Inner Diva that grinds my psychological ass to a fine point.
2. Unless you’re a bodybuilder or a sucked-out methampehtamine addict, you’re not supposed to have giant, mutant, ropey antecubital veins. Madonna needs to eat a goddamned peanut butter-n-bacon sandwich and quit working out for like 6 hours a day or whatever the hell e. helle makes her look like the frigging she-Gollum she’s turning into. Mean it. Madonna: call me, we’ll go eat nachos. Stat.
3. Why aren’t Witchblade, Firefly, Arrested Development, The Adventures of Brisco County, Jr, or The Tick on TV anymore? Or G vs. E for that matter? Why are all the shows I like cancelled, especially the ones that either had a total whoopass heroine or an archly funny/truly original plot? Dear meanspirited, shortsighted Hollywood shark-jumpers: thanks for helping to lower the collective IQ of America by continually pulling the plug on all that is witty, hilariously abstracted and wildly inventive.
4. I’m really freakin’ tired of all this constant Getting Things Done (GTD) mentality that seems to be all over the interwebs these days with those young kids and their whoopin’ and a-hollerin’ and the hey nonny-nonny-ho. Whatever happend to just being pleasantly inefficient every once in awhile? Why, back in my day sometimes we’d just walk over and talk to people. In person, and without being attached to some robotic pseudo-implant distracting us with beeps, buzzes and intermittent crotch-grabs*. Sometimes taking a few minutes to daydream or wander gets you paradoxically faster to where you want to go, like a hobbit, but with less metatarsal hair involved. Dr. Ding dislikes the GTD mentality, unless you’re doing it my way.
5. And I’m spent.
*It’s called hyperbole and you learned about it in junior high. Look it up.
Self Improvement DIY: How To Make Your Very Own Intrapsychic Sith Lord For Fun And Profit
This One Goes Out To All The Little People
So if you’ve read this, you’ve undoubtedly begun to question Dr. Ding’s sanity intentions. No matter. I want to be perfectly clear…I write this blog entirely for the amusement of the wee fae folk who live in my closet and multiply my shoe collection while writing indignant letters to the editor about stuff like shoddy toadstools and weed-killer.
Okay, in all fairness, I guess this blog is really for myself plus the expansion of my ongoing bid for Global Domination, Non-Nefarious Type, Recurrent, Severe.
Back to how to assemble your very own Intrapsychic Sith Lord. I’ve probably lost you already, so feel free to slap yourself around a little, a la one of those fast-talking film noir private eyes who wear their trousers hiked up to their armpits. Better?
Saintly Advisor v. Peculiar Advisor: Saying The Same Thing?
A very peculiar advisor of mine (not Saintly Advisor) in Gradual School once told me, “Young Dingenstein, you must know this if you are to know anything of importance in psychotherapy: defend the Self, not the Ego.” I of coure was totally puzzled by this remark, as Saintly Advisor had just given me the whole importance-of-intimidation knowledge the semester before. I pegged it immediately as Crazy Talk, and filed it away under Things I Will Act Like I Understand When I’m In The Presence Of Faculty, because I was really into my Jennifer Aniston haircut and brown lipstick back then, and had a hard time focusing without the benefit of two pots of coffee, three diet Pepsis, and a pack of menthol Marlboros.
The following semester, during the course of clinical supervision, Peculiar Advisor made the same defend-the-Self speech again, only this time it started to sink in a little bit further. By the time I finished Gradual School, ninety freaking years later, I had a somewhat more encompassing idea of what he meant, but still the deeper applications of this statement confounded me utterly.
The Delicate Art Of Self-Protection
So here’s the thing. If you’re someone who might be construed as a Lightworker (read: decent, helpful person who feels guided to make the world a better place), you may at times feel uncomfortable or awkward defending yourself against the blandishments of the myriad asshats and douchebags of planet earth. This is where Darth Maul and his ilk come in.
It’s perfectly okay to defend yourself with a lightsaber parry/thrust/spin, e.g. “Your (particular action) is not alright with me” or perhaps “I said ‘no’ and I meant it so stop pissing down my leg and telling me it’s raining” and even “Hi-yah! Back, you varlet, back you knave. Back I say!” Or words to that effect. Most of us are raised to think this is effrontery. It’s not.
In fact, it is non-negotiably neccessary to have the ability to stand up for your deep convictions, to insist on your integrity, to speak out against injustice and abuses and to pierce right to the heart of things when who you are is being impugned.
It is NOT such a good idea to defend your ego in the same manner. The ego is all about maintaining the illusion of power, control, and security, and it’s pretty short-sighted. The classy move here is generally to let the force pass rather than join in the affray and make yourself look just as insecure, fear-based, and, well…douchey as the person or persons who are attacking you.
Hi, I’m Nice. Now Start Treating Me Bad
My only substantive critique of the whole Lightworker (see also: Positive Psychology) movement amongst helping professionals and their allies is that it can tend to leave a person prey to the swindlers, the charlatans, and the predators of this world. Why? I’d hazard the cause has something to do with a relentless and occasionally naïve focus on Everything Pleasant And Groovy. And trust me, having spent a great deal of time behind bars, I can assure you that there are decidedly unpleasant folks are out there, and that at some point you’re going to run into one.
This is where the Intrapsychic Sith Lord can be your best friend as you cut a swath through the bullshittery and general idiocy that can befall the Lightworkers of this world. Sometimes, in order to protect what is good and true within you, you gotta be willing kick a little ass.
So how do you deal with mean people when you’re not?
Well, let’s think about this: how did Darth Maul* get to be so fucking awesomely awesome at kicking Jedi ass?
Simple: rehearsal.
Practice saying “no” to people who don’t have your best interests at heart. Practice a few short but polite phrases when you’re confronted with something you find repugnant. Learn to defend your own honor instead of waiting for somone to rush to your aid. Borrow some verbal jiu-jitsu joint locks if you have to, or make some up. You can borrow them from film, from someone you admire, from wherever, but get them. And make them yours.
And now that I’ve got all that out of my system, here’s a little extrapsychic Sith Lord action for youse:
* Yeah about that. I know I totally could have used a Jedi Knight as a metaphor for appropriate psychological self-defense, but that dude who played ole Darth Maul could fight like a some kind of awesome Bruce Lee banshee and I totally dig that. Plus, I sometimes throw random topics into Jeebes’ bowler hat and force myself to write about the first two I extract just to keep The Force strong within me. Go big or go home, I say.