Emails for Algernon
Hail,
Relatively calm today, after coming home irritable and having an argument with my niece. Getting her to help around the house is like those Archimedean paradoxes - she does three quarters of her job, then three quarters of what's left, and then three quarters of what's left and so on into infinity. I have to leave the room when she mops the floor, she gets the mop and does this insipid, feeble, one-armed gesturing with it that wouldn't disturb a hummingbird, and she manages to sweep and mop around her socks on the floor without moving them.
But I love her. Sigh.
Some malicious bastard sent me an email, an article from the Guardian about how reading too many emails is bad for your IQ. The original article is at
http://www.guardian.co.uk/online/news/0,12597,1465973,00.html
If, like me, you get a lot of emails you may have to get someone to read this one to you. Apparently a day with Outlook Express is equivalent to a good few hours of hydro. But the comparison between email and marijuana is fairly slim, people who smoke a lot of marijuana
become socially withdrawn and rarely see their loved ones, they may binge on unhealthy food, and eventually they develop a fully fledged schizophreniform psychosis where they believe electronic equipment is sending them messages.
As an aside, and some of you may find the following a bit grim, so if you don't want to know the score, look away now.
When I first became unwell I was very unwell indeed, and I was dragged off to hospital in something like a manic psychosis. I had extremely strange, very detailed beliefs that were in no way susceptible to argument. Looking back at what I can remember from that extremely difficult time, I can understand how the treating emergency doctor might have initially thought I had schizophrenia. So he asks me all these questions and finally he looks at me and says seriously "Do you think the television is controlling your life?"
Back then, like now, I watched close to zero telly. There was this long pause where I stared at him, exhausted and unwell and more than a little confused, and said "Mate, I'm the only person I know where the telly isn't controlling my life".
Well, it was funny at the time.
Well, it wasn't, actually, but I laughed about it later.
Well, I'm laughing now, anyhow.
Anyway, feeling in a slightly morbid mood at the moment. Next post will be a compilation of stories from me and my colleagues of hilarious hijinx involving dead people.
John
Relatively calm today, after coming home irritable and having an argument with my niece. Getting her to help around the house is like those Archimedean paradoxes - she does three quarters of her job, then three quarters of what's left, and then three quarters of what's left and so on into infinity. I have to leave the room when she mops the floor, she gets the mop and does this insipid, feeble, one-armed gesturing with it that wouldn't disturb a hummingbird, and she manages to sweep and mop around her socks on the floor without moving them.
But I love her. Sigh.
Some malicious bastard sent me an email, an article from the Guardian about how reading too many emails is bad for your IQ. The original article is at
http://www.guardian.co.uk/online/news/0,12597,1465973,00.html
If, like me, you get a lot of emails you may have to get someone to read this one to you. Apparently a day with Outlook Express is equivalent to a good few hours of hydro. But the comparison between email and marijuana is fairly slim, people who smoke a lot of marijuana
become socially withdrawn and rarely see their loved ones, they may binge on unhealthy food, and eventually they develop a fully fledged schizophreniform psychosis where they believe electronic equipment is sending them messages.
As an aside, and some of you may find the following a bit grim, so if you don't want to know the score, look away now.
When I first became unwell I was very unwell indeed, and I was dragged off to hospital in something like a manic psychosis. I had extremely strange, very detailed beliefs that were in no way susceptible to argument. Looking back at what I can remember from that extremely difficult time, I can understand how the treating emergency doctor might have initially thought I had schizophrenia. So he asks me all these questions and finally he looks at me and says seriously "Do you think the television is controlling your life?"
Back then, like now, I watched close to zero telly. There was this long pause where I stared at him, exhausted and unwell and more than a little confused, and said "Mate, I'm the only person I know where the telly isn't controlling my life".
Well, it was funny at the time.
Well, it wasn't, actually, but I laughed about it later.
Well, I'm laughing now, anyhow.
Anyway, feeling in a slightly morbid mood at the moment. Next post will be a compilation of stories from me and my colleagues of hilarious hijinx involving dead people.
John
posted by Bronze John at 9:15 PM
1 Comments:
Don't you mean Algernon?
And thank you for letting people post again,
I can now relinquish this fan site http://www.tobania.blogspot.com/
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