October 2007

Seattle Post-Intelligencer: Funky Winkerbean

I haven’t read Funky Winkerbean in forever and ever. It seems to me it used to be about… Funky Winkerbean. But the folks over at Comic Curmudgeon have been calling it Funky Cancerbean, and other silly names, and thereafter I sometimes tuned in, only to find one of the characters died of cancer after long and dramatic suffering, and now day after day the husband of Lisa the cancer victim has been laying on a couch talking through his reaction in flashback.

The funny thing about this is, the only people who use the couch in therapy are traditional psychoanalysts, which are horribly expensive and not covered by insurance, and are a dying breed. You might find them on the east coast, and I have heard of one in L.A. over here on the west coast, but you don’t just find them everywhere in the country. Also, in a few strips the analyst is sitting alongside the couch, and traditionally he would be sitting out of the client’s line of sight. ALSO - psychoanalysis done traditionally takes years. You don’t just go until you’re done. The goals are different. A grief group, I could buy into, but the couch thing? not so much.

The public view of therapy is a skewed and incorrect one. This is one of those things that only perpetuates the notion that psychotherapy involves couches and shrinks with a pen and paper to take down what you’re saying.

Yes, this is therapy geekiness - but I’m a big geek. What do you expect?

Now that everyone on the internet has posted about it, can we go back to life as we know it?

Geeeeeeeze, the things people consider news.

Now, if George Bush comes romping out of the closet, I fully expect the many tubes to crack under the weight of the posts/emails that will ensue, and that it will be totally warranted. Just think of the fallout! Republicans would be reeling for months. Democrats… will sort of just be Democrats, I guess. Me, I don’t care if he’s hanging out with Tinky Winky and Bubbles at Michael Jackson’s ranch, I still didn’t vote for him and I still look like a Disapproving Rabbit when someone brings him up, and that has everything to do with his decision making and the undiplomatic and idiotic way he attempts to represent Americans.

Another therapist, attempting to ease the nerves of a class full of newbie therapists still in school: “… and you know, after all the stress and so forth, in the end? No one’s ever asked me what my GPA was.”

Me: “What’s your GPA?

(beat)
(everyone laughs)

Maybe you had to be there. But since no one really thinks I’m funny it was kind of cool.

YouTube - 10 Things I Hate About Commandments

Much clipping and snipping, followed by four hours of rendering various bits of video, followed by…

“[application] terminated unexpectedly. Reopen?”

NAYYYYAAAAAAAAAAHHHHARRRRRRRGH.

So the vid I was working on will be delayed until next weekend.

I am somewhat proud of myself for clearing out that last pile of old papers and rearranging the office somewhat. Housecleaning can be so cathartic.

At the beginning of the week, I said, I will post something witty, intelligent or substantial to the blog! Maybe something about the idea for a novel that I stumbled across while reading up on a topic relevant to the Day Job.

Around Tuesday I would have settled for intelligible.

Around Thursday, I would have settled for a few words about the cat, with a snarky comment obliquely referring to the madness of the bureaucracy.

It’s Friday. I’m sipping wine. I have nothing to offer of any use.

BAH.

Today I was issued a new list of items that are overdue for my various files concerning various clients.

That would be well and dandy except for the fact that all those items were turned in weeks, or in some cases months, ago.

Something tells me I need a new new list - one that I make, and keep, and maintain, and back up with photocopies of the paperwork.

I HATE bureaucracy. The bigger they are, the harder they are to work under. And I’m thinking I need one of those headlamps, I’m so far under.