Unaware

Solomon Grundy: (to Lex Luthor) You’re crazy.
*Enter Joker, stage left*
Joker: And what’s wrong with that? It’s done wonders for me.

— Justice League — “Injustice For All”

I don’t suffer from insanity. I enjoy every minute of it. For a very long time, TV writers seemed to think that one of the universal signs of mental illness was a total inability to perceive one’s self as acting oddly. It’s tempting to have a mentally ill person utter such classic Mad Scientist lines as, “They Called Me Mad, but I’m not mad, they’re the ones that are mad!” And certainly, the near sociopathically quirky characters you find on the average Sit Com seem to think themselves perfectly ordinary. However, in the real world, some, but by no means all deeply disturbed individuals are like this. Fortunately, this is not always the case. Few characters can be more fun than the Self-Aware Loon. He’s crazy and he knows it. And he’s making the best of it. He may be a Talkative Loon most of the time, but he has his lucid moments, and may even consider his episodes to be a welcome respite from normalcy. Consequentially, he often gets to say clever lines like, “Well, I think it’s a good idea, but then, I’m crazy,” “I’m crazy, but I’m not stupid,” “I may be insane, but you’re crazy” or “Oh yes, I’m insane. And you’re stuck here with me.” Mostly characters who have become unhinged by an exceptional ordeal; rarely results from an organic disorder. Often a facet of the Waif Prophet or the Rabid Cop. Usually a fun character, and a little cartoonish, though it can also be played tragically (this is how it usually goes when The Mad Hatter’s illness is organic in origin) as a character is overcome by the knowledge that he is losing his mind and is powerless to stop it. Probably something of a convenience for the writer, as, just as is true of race and handicap, when it’s the victim making light of their condition, it doesn’t come off quite as insensitive. Some may find it insulting to the families of those who are actually mentally ill. On the other hand, perhaps they can take some solace in a depiction of mild mental illness as something that can be coped with. Archetype is named for the character from Alice In Wonderland, who, like most of Wonderland’s residents, knew just how crazy he was, and had decided to just sit back and enjoy it.

Another wacky excerpt about Tropes that threaten me

“

The Darwinist is a bad guy who believes that only the strong, cunning, and ruthless come out on top. Basically, he (or she) uses Social Darwinism (or just plain “Darwinism”, in the case of villains who believe they’re the “next step” in evolution) to justify their looting and pillaging, their oppressive regime, their schemes for world domination, or what have you over “mere mortals”. His scorn for morality often makes him say that power is Above Good And Evil. If the Darwinist doesn’t suffer a Karmic Death, the heroes “disprove” his might-makes-right philosophy by demonstrating the The Power Of Friendship — either by ganging up and beating the crap out of him and his cronies, or by the leader of the group (often The Messiah) doing it himself while repeatedly driving home that he’s fighting for his friends. A particularly anvilicious way to do it is to have the Big Bad beaten by a character who has glaring physical or mental handicaps. Note that Social Darwinism is usually actively disavowed by biologists, including Darwin himself. Actual Darwinian natural selection is that the “fittest” survives, “fittest” being that which is best adapted to their current environment. This is not necessarily the strongest/most ruthless/etc., but can be (and often is) that which can band together in groups for mutual benefit. Additionally, since actual Darwinian natural selection can adapt only to your current situation, the greedy only-the-absolute-fittest-survive version embodied by the villains of this trope is actually a poor long-term survival strategy — you would end up with a large number of almost-identical, seemingly-optimal ‘perfect’ specimens that are then promptly slaughtered en masse once something else evolves (or some other change to their environment occurs) that preys on one of their shared weaknesses. It works out well, then, that evolution appears to be in many ways conservative, frequently retaining ‘non-optimal’ genes through recessive traits and other mechanisms in case they become useful in the future; for a species, diversity is more valuable than individual strength. Another point of view is that thanks to our gaining of sentience, we don’t have to listen to our genes any more, and we can beat the effective but ultimately very wasteful system of natural selection. Fictional Darwinists generally come in two flavors: One type believes in Social Darwinism, which is misinterpreting the idea of evolution and natural selection and deciding that people who rise to the top in society are automatically the “superior” ones. The sort of theory Herbert Spencer used to explain why in London, the richest city of the world, you could find people starving to death on the street. The other type is one who decides that humanity (or all sapient beings if it’s of the science fiction or fantasy genre) is no better than animals and therefore anyone with a birth defect or in any other way “weak” deserves to die to keep the gene pool strong. This often involves the attitude of not wanting to “get in the way” of evolution, despite the fact that any interaction with any species technically does that, and that evolution happens by itself when it’s necessary for survival (assuming some beneficial mutations randomly occur), and when it isn’t happening, it’s because it isn’t needed. One has to wonder if either of these two types ever paid any attention in biology class. Alternatively, the Darwinist is just a racist or speciesist who uses this as a rather poor justification for getting rid of those whom they consider “inferior” (as the Real Life Nazis did). If an entire group or planet gets behind this idea, then they believe Asskicking Equals Authority. Compare Evilutionary Biologist, Nietzsche Wannabe, Klingon Promotion.”

Aliens? Aliens. Aliens! Aliens...

It’s time for the dumbassery of the week! This video speaks for itself:

Do comment, How does something like this happen?

Why, god, Why... Ohwait

So, uhm, yeah. I don’t know. My meatloaf has been telling me there is a god. This is awfully inconsistent.

On: Luv

A rant? From me? “But Allex, I thought you stopped making those because you’re a lazy arse?” I didn’t stop, I just keep forgetting. To add insult to injury, this isn’t my rant. 8D

Here’s my friend Ella’s statement on love;

“As humans, I don’t see why everyone has to be so obsessed with love. Now, I have no problem with love. I love love. Love is all that is good in the world. Love is beautiful, love is pure, love is forever.

I just wonder why everybody has to be obsessed with analyzing it. If you care about someone why does it matter how you care about them? There are all of these unwritten rules that people follow, and I don’t get them.

“I love you but I just don’t love you /that/ way.”

I’m sure everybody has heard this. Maybe I am just really simple-minded, but… how do you know what way you love a person?

I’m pretty sure I know the tell-tale signs of loving someone.

You cry when they cry. You worry about them. You feel what they feel. Their happiness is like a drug to you. You put them before you. You are willing to do anything for them.

I don’t see why people have to be obsessed with kissing and stuff. Why. Why does it matter?

Why does it matter what gender a person is? Why does it matter how old a person is? Why does any of it matter?”

I HAVE A DREAM

It seems like I was on acid. But most dreams do, so…

I woke up and went downstairs. It was bright, and light was filtering calmly through the windows, giving the house an orange tint. My Brother was there, wearing a leather jacket and ants of the exact same shade of brown, and an odd, bowl-shaped haircut. I haven’t seen my brother in a long time, because he lives in Colorado, so it was weird to see him here. He was typing gibberish on every keyboard and scribbling nothings on every notepad he could fin. I asked him “What are you doing?”

There was something that told me he was… Evil. I don’t remember what it was. Maybe he had red eyes, or an echoing voice, I think his goatee might have tipped me off. But when he started clawing at me, I ran upstairs. I looked behind me briefly before turning a corner. He was moving slow, slow like a sloth. He was complaining about it too, saying things like “Why can’t I move? I’m trying to kill you!”

I slammed the door to my room, thinking I was safe.What caught my eye was a man on a telephone pole, swinging wildly as if his limbs were made of butter. One hand was free, however, and he used it to take pictures with a Polaroid he had. He suddenly jumped through the window in my room, and I rushed back out the door and jolted down the stairs.

As I attempted to run out the front door of my house, a woman who looked to be straight out of a horror film (The kind with great special effects, but shitty writing?). She looked like an anorexic woman with long black hair, melded to some sort of giant snail, which her waist fused into. She had long spikes for hands, and her eyes were cat-like and trying to pop out of her head. She started swiping at me, and I had trouble dodging, because the staircase empties into the front door. I was still on the stairs.

There was a man behind her, I remember him as a bald black man, wearing a fluorescent green coat. He reminded me of… Turk. He was mumbling random things, staring off into the distance. Or maybe he was staring at the non—existent rear of the snail-woman. I couldn’t tell. I found an opening, and jumped past the Snail-woman, landing on his head. I jumped down and began running down the street…

And then I woke up.

Anyone care to give input?