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A case of the fugues February 2, 2011

Posted by therealtinlizzy in Uncategorized.
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I’m all for naval-gazing (to a point), but I’m most definitely not for public displays of emo, ennui and/or doldrums, or even generally being IN a state of emo/ennui/doldrums. It’s like Santa Claus or Creationism, I don’t believe in them. Or perhaps Xanadu, to make a logical parallel with a place instead of a person. In any case I don’t believe in it – I don’t believe in languishing around being a sad panda about much of anything, privately or publicly.

At least for me. Others do and get to, and I’m one of the most compassionate, sympathetic and supportive folks I know when it comes to others lapsing into a funk of whatever sort – legit or otherwise. But not for me. Because while I may not believe in faeries, leprechauns or the housing market ever recovering enough to allow me to sell my house and move elsewhere – I believe in double-standards like the concept was proven via theorem by Pythagoras.

And my double-standard when it comes to this sort of thing is exactly as simple as: what’s good for the goose is not good for the gander. And I’m fantastically schizophrenically compartmentalized about it when it comes to emo being good and necessary for some folks, but not for me. Like it’s some sort of Do Not Call list: I can totally see why some folks need/want to or are just by happenstance on Emo’s Call List, and why/that some are even Sustaining Members, but I just prefer to not be contacted when Emo comes hitting up for its annual giving, capital campaign, or quarterly fundraising . Even when/if it might not be altogether a bad idea to just give in and make an obligatory pledge, I prefer a stance of unilaterally opting-out. I’ve even threatened Emo with calling the Better Business Bureau on the rare occasion when it doesn’t seem to be taking a hint. But mostly we’re live and let live, Emo and I.

I fully realize the immense bunch of nonsense that it is for me to assert all that, just as nonsense as it was to be fairly convinced up until the first time I got drunk at age 31 that getting drunk was just due to lack of willpower. You think I’m kidding. I only wish there was video footage documenting my 2+ miles of walking-my-bike-home astonishment after 3 or 4 drinks with a friend where despite my Herculean exertion of will-power I was unable to stay balanced on my bike enough to not simply fall over. In retrospect, under the right directorship and executive-producer, that could have made a hell of a good feature-length movie. I mean they made a flic about a guy stuck in a crevasse for 127 hours, and all sorts of lesser flics about drunken shenanigans; a flic about one girl’s epic 2+ mile walking-her-bike-home journey of complete earnest drunken bewilderment that drunk is not a will-power overcome-able state of affairs – well certainly worse flics have been made.

This also from the girl who decided circa 7th grade that emotions were for jerks and lesbians (ok so I didn’t actually know about lesbians back then, let alone that I was one) and promptly gave them up as a bad habit, making it no surprise that Spock and Data persisted as my role models well into my mid-twenties. And that worked out pretty well as a defense mechanism and self-protectivist m.o. through my teen and college years, particularly given that due to my hardline pursuit of Jesus I was in the business of abstaining from most all experiences that might have stirred in me any sort of emo. Although I did a reasonable job of emoting for/about Jesus, especially under influence of the retreats/camps I willingly subjected myself too.

Of course – you can emo all over the place about/to Jesus with impunity, because he’s never going to talk back to you (no really). He’s never going to be a jerk, pick a fight or break your heart, never going to tell you you’re being a douchebag or an idiot, even when you totally are. It sets you up for pursuing as normal full-frontal emo towards an object you’re never in danger of pissing off or required to be a responsible emotional person with/towards/about. Hell my reflection in the mirror gives me more honesty than that. Though I like to think that Jesus would be a combo of Judge Judy and Sharon Osbourne, and that it would do a lot of people a world of good to have a full on 2-way conversation with Jesus where he would tell you straight up you’re a self-involved asshole or to buck up little camper or that he’s so over you, rather than the current setup of emotionally-stunting one-way convos with an unconditionally-accepting imaginary friend.

So that’s what it comes to: I didn’t have a healthy sense of emoting to/about anyone but imaginary Jesus until I was well into adulthood. Or actually no. Well yes, but that really has nothing to do with this at all, and navel-gazing on Jesus (gazing at his navel?) certainly was not a goal for today’s post. I just like things to connect, and I have a penchant for leaping onto the random things that fly by, and Jesus happened to be skating on through the synapses at that point. And for the record – that’s how he gets around, on skates.

Anyway – the real moral of the story is that I’ve got a case of the doldrums of late. Or wait no – even better: a case of the fugues. My sig a few weeks back was reading aloud an email from a friend who’d had plans to bring her son over to visit the chickens, but emailed to decline due to the son having “a case of the feuds.” It fell on my ears as “a case of the fugues” and my first thought was – huh, must be something like a fugue state, while my second thought was – whoa that’s pretty deep and meta for a 3 year old to have a case of.

So despite my accidental coining of the phrase due to being hearing-impaired (not really), I’m absconding with it for my own misguided and misuseful purposes. And in the end there’s nothing terribly interesting about it or to fret or worry over – I’m simply a stoic, Minnesotan (the adjective, not the proper noun), emotionally stunted, partially reformed Vulcan former-Jesus lover (and yes – those commas are all correctly placed for my purposes), who’s at this particular juncture having a case of the fugues.

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