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Apathy Therapy

 

 

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Apathy Therapy

Posted by James Rousch on Mar 28, 2019 7:38:49 PM

This is something that I am developing on my own.

We know that those who have learning disabilities are more stressed than those who are not.  It’s because we want to do well and we want to show the world that we’re more intelligent than people give us credit.

 

The genesis of this idea occured in 1988 when I was in high school.  I came to realize that the more I cared about my grade, the more I suffered.
I then decide to see what happened if I simply showed up, barely paid attention, and just did the assignment.

 

Had it not been for the two fails in Chemistry and in Geometry, I would have probably made Honor Roll, because I graduated high school with a 2.89.

 

I literally fell asleep in my other classes and got A’s and B’s.  Myth and Legend and my history classes were the only ones of interest to me, so i just sat there and took three naps during the class day-and no one cared (you can’t fall asleep in P.E.).  They just woke me up when the bell rang.

 

The first attempts college were disastrous for a number of reasons.  First, there were no online facilities.  I’m Fred Flintstone, okay?  Sue me.  The second reason was that I returned to caring about what I did and that I wanted to make a good impression.

 

What a total waste of time THAT was.
It was the same frustrating problem which I experienced here, as well, when I first began in 2013.  I currently possess a degree in psychology and I’m working on the next degree.  I currently have a 3.17.

 

I don’t care.  I don’t worry.  Most of the time, I don’t even know what day I’m in because of the condition of my hippocampus and my striatum.  According to the NCBI, we still have half of a clue of what the stratium’s role in social behavior is with relation to everything else in the brain.

 

I love it when people tell me to get a calendar, because it does me no good.

 

Remember the show Quantum Leap?  Some of the older students do.  Dr. Sam Becket was an experimental time traveller and every time he took another leap, he had no idea where he was.  That’s how it is for someone who has problems with their striatum or their hippocampus-or both, if you’re me.

 

This theory still has a long way to go before I can actually complete a paper on it, but all I can tell you is that it works for me.

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Don’t Fuck With Those Frontals, I’m Begging Ya!

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https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC2991430/

There are a lot of people who make bad decisions, and often when there’s less than no time to think about that probable consequences will be.

Hello, prefrontal cortex, you snot-slurped asshole.

Many people who live with traumatic brain injury face this challenge every day in the hope that they don’t get into an argument with an idiot, only to be arrested for manslaughter, because he got tired of dealing with someone’s bullshit and pushed the other guy into an oncoming city bus-which only make things worse.

I mean, nobody really wants to do that, but there are some people who:

a) ask for it

b) don’t believe you’ll do it

The next thing one realises, the one who was pissed can’t believe what he or she just did!  However, the person that once was was warned about the consequences.  What seems to spectators as a deliberate act truly wasn’t, because the person who pushed you was on the receiving end of an equal and opposite reaction-and now, traffic is a nightmare because the coroner has to scrape your remains as best they can off the street.

Study the case of Phineas Gage, a railroad foreman who experienced a blast which sent a tamping iron-43 inches long, 1 1/4 inches in diameter, and weighing 13 1/4 pounds through his left cheek, slashed his brain, and rocketed skyward, landing several feet behind him, according to smithsonian.com.

He was never the same after this, as his friends said that he was “no longer Gage,” as Dr. John Harlow accounted.

Gage lost his balance between his common sense and his self-control, or as Paul the Apostle wrote in Romans 7:15-20: “I do not understand what I do.  For what I want to do I do I do not do, but what I hate I do.  And if I do what I do not want to do, I agree that the law is good.  As it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me.  For I know that good itself does not dwell in me, that is, in my sinful nature.  For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out.  For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil the evil I do not want to do-this I keep on doing.  Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it.”


Here’s the funny part: those who kicked me out of the church last year are Republicans who espouse the doctrine of personal responsibility.  However, where was Paul’s sense of personal responsibility?


As George Carlin said: “Someone’s losing fucking ground.”

It might be best for Americans to stop judging people who have the tendency to hit someone in the mouth with a chair.  After all, no one starts life that way and there are people who know the particular person’s weakness and exploit it in the hope that such a person will arrested on a assault charge.

Have you ever heard of entrapment?  As Dirty Harry used to say: “A man has got to know his limitations.”

My advice is for instigators to not start anything to begin with, as someone’s fuse is shorter than another-and all because of traumatic brain injury.  If you’re going to a soldier a free pass, you have to do the same for someone else-even when you’re dealing with someone who wasn’t stupid enough to drive over a roadside bomb during a quagmire in which we had no business involving ourselves.

Don’t fuck with the frontals, I’m begging ya!

Savvy?

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Brain Damage

 

 

 

 

This is what brain damage sounds like, motherfucker!

I used to go to Guitar Center in Irvine, California a lot, just so I could play the Jackson and B.C. Rich axes.  Besides, I needed to stay awake so that I could go to sleep at a normal time on my nights off.

I fucking hated night shift, but it paid a dollar an hour more than days.  What’s more, I’m not really a customer-oriented person (as if you haven’t guessed), because I don’t put up with crap from people who don’t sign my paychecks.

Like I always say, “I’m a whore, not a slave.  So, fuck off.”

How customer-oriented am I?  Okay, you axed for it:

One time, over twenty years ago, a woman looked for a book which was out of stock.  When she looked over my shoulder as I searched the computer, she said: “The computer says you have ten.”

I immediately turned around and replied, “Ma’am, I’m an Atheist in here, and that means I don’t believe in the existence of anything that I don’t have my hands on.  So, until it’s in my hand, and I give it to you, we ain’t got shit.

You’re not wondering why I never made Employee of the Month, are you?   I mean, it’s pretty fucking obvious.

And you thought this is just a character that I portray in cyberspace.  No, no, no, no, no, no, no!  This is who I am in real life-partially because of the fact that my prefrontal cortex is fucked up (source: Neurosci Bull April 1, 2015, 31(2): 198–206. http://www.neurosci.cn) and partially due to the fact that I simply have no patience for conservatives and other intellectual inferiors who refuse to accept scientific facts.

Meningitis is an inflammation of the lining of the brain  (source: Meningitis. (2015). Nursing Standard (2014+), 30(3), 17. doi:http://dx.doi.org/10.7748/ns.30.3.17.s20).  People who get hit with it suffer brain damage and often lose their sight, lose their hearing, and lose their limbs.

And God supposedly protected three men in a furnace which was heated seven times normal (Daniel 3;19).

As for my axes, I have a Jackson and a Fender acoustic in storage over in Irvine, California, but I had to buy two more guitars and another amplifier.

I have been able to work on my manual dexterity over the course of time, and I’m a hell of a lot better now than I was when I shot that little bit at Guitar Center in Irvine, California in 2011.

I don’t know why God allowed me to get meningitis-and He’d better have a damned good reason for it.  Exodus 4:11 is something that I don’t accept.  And if you have a child with a developmental disability, you shouldn’t either.

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