Commercials Vs. Advertisements

After studying the subject, I have come to realize that Commercials try to sell us a product that is more or less of good quality, where as Ads via phone and PC apps and web pages try and push low quality or altogether false products, services, or even ideas.  A lot of time, effort, and energy had been put into the campaign to stick us in our tiny glowing screens and PC monitors.  I would rather see commercials rather than having adds blasted at me on every web page and phone app.

Seems like ads have become an overwhelming burden on web pages.  For instance, The Weather Channel is an undesirable site now that it’s lagged up with adds, where as the actual Weather channel via television is better.

Then there is Amazon with it’s algorithm that is based on previous sales will show you several models of dehumidifier that you could have gotten.  These are well meaning, but not yet on point for directed commercial items.

That’s just my 2 cents, thanks for listening.  Until next time, peace to you and yours.

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Obsession, part of the Disorder

One of the tougher parts of OCD to deal with is the obsessions.  They are unshakable desires to do something.  Whether it’s an addiction, such as cigarettes, or something so simple as a card game, Magic the Gathering, the obsession can be so overwhelming that it seemingly controls your actions.  That’s where the compulsive part of the disorder ruins everything.  Where normally a person can control an obsession, Obsessive Compulsive disorder can control themselves, when the compulsion kicks in it is no longer probable to resist the obsession.  You don’t feel complete or whole until it is fulfilled.  For me it’s basic vices, things that send life into disorder, but not unrecoverable.  I fear for some, the compulsions are too dark, such as displayed in the Showtime series Dexter.  How fine is the line between a simple drive to clean the same spot the same way forever and the dark abyss of horrific obsession?  I sure hope there is a cure in the works.

For myself, it’s a very real and very terrifying reality.  I fear that a simple rabbit hole might turn into a nightmare reality.

Trying to figure out the triggers has been very difficult.  Stress, positive or negative, seems to be the most prevalent.  This, I believe is why anti depressants had a negative effect.  The “high” of the dopamine fades, but the obsession with the consistent good moods did not, causing a downward spiral that was near fatal.

Dark Angel: Myndra’s Song

When I took my first college level creative writing class, there was on specific exercise we did was create a short story from just one sentence.  The sentence we were given was “Mary closed the door and placed the candle on the table”.  This is a revised version of that story.  I changed the name for personal reasons.

Myndra closed the door and placed the candle on the table.  Thunder shook her apartment building as lightning clashed across the sky.  With the power knocked out from an earlier strike, the night was darker than ever.  As she turned on her shower the droplets that rained were warm and welcoming.  After casting away her clothes, she stepped in and slid the door closed as the water embraced her.  The small candles flame cast dancing shadows around cozy bathroom walls.  She closed her eyes as she turned to face the gentle cascade of water.

 

To the young lady stumbling down the sidewalk blocks from her house, the night was cold, cruel, and unforgiving.  The rain felt like icy tendrils as they ran down her back through drenched shirt.  The thunder claps startled her, the lighting strikes blinded her, albeit temporarily.  Her arms were folded and pressed to her body to stop from shuddering, unsuccessfully.  No one could her sobs, she knew no one would care.  The moment she hit the concrete, struck by one last straw, her mind nearly gave up.  She had ignored a cracked heel on her shoe in her haste to leave a lost battle of a broken relationship.  This shattered soul let herself lay upon the cold stone and simply cry.

“Are you ok?” asked Myndra in a worried tone.  She had seen a young woman take a quick fall as she stood under the awning of her apartment building, while having a short smoke.  Strolling across the barren street she noticed the girl just laying on the cold hard sidewalk and wondered if something horrible had just happened.  Half away across she started to jog.  With a trembling hand she reach out and took a firm hold on the fallen girls shoulder.  “Hey”, was all she could get out as the seemingly dormant body shrieked and lashed at her.  Both had now been spooked past the point of reason and a short nearly harmonic set of screams cried out for a brief second.  The following moment seemed to pass as minutes when their eyes finally met.

Clouds had parted every so slightly, just enough to shine the moons rays through the storm.   Ebon hair was accented with stands made silver from moonbeams.  The eyes she was staring into had created a respite from this night’s grief filled torment.  She reach up and her hand was met by a soft, strong grip.  She allowed herself to be helped up. “You’re drenched and shivering, come up to my room and dry off” came a voice that was soothing.  A weak nod of her head was all she could muster.

The pair walked back across the empty road, the pouring rain had deterred most travelers on this soon to be auspicious night.  Myndra placed a comforting arm around the slender shoulders of her new found companion.  The notion of consolation seemed to be welcomed by this trepid soul.  She picked up her candle from just inside the doors of her building.  Lighting it had been a slight challenge, but her persistence and not completely soaked lighter finally ignited the already charred wick.  Myndra led the way up a single flight of stairs, easily navigated by candlelight.  She was grateful not to be one of the poor sods on the sixth floor.

“My names Kayla, by the way” her voice was nearly horse from the agitation of this evenings events.  “I appreciate your kindness”.

“I’m Myndra, nice to meet you” was her reply to the first words uttered by this beautiful dove who now stood in her dark home.

Kayla gazed around the small apartment seeing a pattern of black and white photos and posters, who’s contrast was only altered by a single pair of light pink ballet shoes hanging on a pillar between a tiny kitchen and humbly furnished living room.  Several candles cast dancing shadows.  She sighed, taking in breath and exhaling heavily, letting the new scenery placate her previously frantic thoughts.  All she could do was smile slightly.  She sat down on the futon, as requested.  Looking up, she was relieved to see Myndra’s gaze meet her own again, reassuring and consoling.  Her host was tall and lithe, long dark hair hung low and straight from the rain.  She was reminded of Morticia Addams, her smile widened just a bit more at the thought. (to be continued)

 

All the pieces

Not sure they’ll all fit

So many parts, so little space

Fragmented self, needed a hit

Wasn’t sure I could keep pace

A mental knock on the noggin, a little wit

Mix with music and family, she’s truly my ace

Do I leave out the parts that make me want to quit

Keep them I say, they keep me in my place

A place I belong, the place I commit

A state of mind so far from this race

The rats almost won, I felt so unfit

I hated so many memories, lost color in my face

Almost thought I was gone, a few steps from split

I write my story, place it in a showcase

So that other won’t feel counterfeit

Our stories only differ in the details, our human race

But we’re all the same, you have to admit

Your pain is my pain, I would embrace

Any person who felt the need to submit

We stand united, the wounded who feel disgrace

Pick your head up with mine, this is it

Don’t relent to the coup de grace

You’re not alone in all this shit

The moral of the story is not common place

We need to heal depression, lickety split

 

 

 

My fear

Every single person feels fear.  No one is immune.  Most animals understand fear.  It is what keeps us alive.  What happens when that fight or flight instinct “stays on” and a person constantly feels the need to fight or flee?  Anxiety happens.

My mental disorder is not unique.  OCD and depression are not my burden alone to bear.  Being abused a child is not unique.  So why is it I get wrapped around the axel about all of this lately?  Because I have buried everything instead of dealing with it.  The years of anger, sadness, and fear were bottled up.  I’m trying to empty that bottle and fill it back up with much better stuff.  In the mean time I have to constantly search for better ways to cope with each stressor.  I used to use tobacco and alcohol as my coping methods, but those were worse than the depression itself.  Then came the medications.  Lately I have been searching for better methods.

The best part of dealing with everything is that my creativity is at an all time high.  From song lyrics and poems to retail ideas for our little shop in Garner, IA.

If you are going through tough times, please don’t give up on yourself.

Once I get through all of this, I hope things clear up inside.  Until then, thanks for listening.  Peace to you and your.

American Lie

DSCF0313This is gonna be a weird one, a simple parody using Don McLean’s American Pie song as the skeletal framework.

A long long time ago, I can still remember how the music used to make you cry

and you knew if you had once chance, you would stop the people’s dance, and make them believe they where happy for a while

The rap music made you shiver, with every curse word they delivered

Bad news on your door step; we cannot take one more step.

I can remember all the times I cried, when  I read about those blatant lies

But something touched me deep inside, the day the music cried

so bye bye, this American Lie, drive your Chevy round the country ’til the your gas tank runs dry,

Them good ole boys who said you should stay inside, singing that will be the day when you die.

That will be the day that you die.

You click on Facebook things you love, it could be a face upon a glove,

If the media tells you so.

Don’t listen to those frikken trolls, this product saves your immoral soul,

and we sell pills to “make you grow”,

Cause I know that you’re in love with thin, and don’t want to be in a gym

Just kick off your shoes, and take these pills of blue,

You’re a lonely teen feeling out of touch, just take these pills they’re a pick-me-up,

But then we all ran out of luck, the day we allowed them to lie.

Now for some singing,

Bye Bye this America Lie, drive your Chevy ’round the country till the gas tank runs dry,

Them good ole boys are banking that you will die, and singing “this will be the day no one cried”

This will be the day no one cried.

Now for some years we’ve been on our own,

the cats grew fat on your kidney stone,

But that’s not how it’s ‘Sposed to be,

When the jester became the king of mean,

raised the price of his product really obscene,

and a voice that came from Dre and ‘Sky

While The People were feeling down,

they gave us pills to steal that frown,

Our minds started to burn,

Our faith’s been overturned,

and while we learn about the Starks,

the music’s tryin to start a spark

and they spout rhymes to make us arc,

They rap so we can cry.

Even more singing,

bye bye, this American Lie, drive your Chevy ’round the country ’til the gas tank runs dry,

Them good ole’ boys know now that we will not die,

singing “This Won’t be the day that we die”

This won’t be the day that we die.

They made us zombies like horror shamblers,

no cure in sight only brain scramblers,

Eight Mile was a good movie, a blast!

They’ve killed criminals with gas,

even unborn babies don’t get a pass,

feels like we’re next and I think it’s ass.

I think for some it’s now high noon,

Our voices will been heard soon.

This will be our stance,

Oh, this time, there’s a chance,

They will try and make us yield,

But it’s our time on this field,

The world will know what’s been reveal,

The day, we stop these lies.

Yet again sining,

Bye bye, this American Lie, drive your Chevy ’round the country ’till the gas tank runs dry.

Them good ole boys will be the ones who will cry,

singing “This will be the day no one died”

This will be the day no one died.

Oh, and there we were all in one place, a generation lost in space with no time left to start again (this line transcends itself from song to song)

So come on: lets get nimble, must help the sick!

You gave us drugs that broke us, dick

Soon you will be out of friends.

Oh, and as you watch Trump on the stage, your hands all clenched in fists of rage

He was not born in hell, wake up from the spell,

Now that you can see it is time to fight to stop sacrificing our health for pyrite,

We’ll all be laughing with delight,

The day they were allowed to cry.

Jeez more singing,

Bye Bye, this American Lie, the price is to heavy and we don’t want to die.

You good ole boys take a bow swallow your pride.

singing “this will be the day Pharma died”

This will be the day Pharma died.

We ALL have so many blues

we’re ready for some happy news

this time no one turns away.

Now listen to your favorite score,

hear their songs like never before,

No one should tell you what you can play,

Start taking walks, let your smile beam

Watch lovers smile, and share your dream

Where they are spoken,

or rapped or sung while tokin’

You’ll find who you admire most,

Maybe father, son, or the holy ghost,

This is your shot, not a hoax,

The day, you let lies die.

one last time singing,

Bye Bye, this American Lie, no more bullshit claims, even when we drive by.

So good ole boys now it’s time to let fly,

The poisons that made us all blind

The poisons that made us all blind.

Bye Bye, this American Lie, we have suffered long enough and now it’s time so say Bye.

them good ole boys cashing in now should fry,

but we’re not them, it’s time to rest.  bye

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

One man, too many opinions

Many of us now feel far more free to share our internal thoughts and opinions.  In a society in which they were unwelcome, they are now embraced.  Maybe not widely embraced, but embraced none the less, by like minded people.

Our public school systems are a fantastic resource.  My question today is; Why don’t our schools teach our children how to learn?  Our system is based on teaching children what to know, not how to figure it out.  Teachers try, but are limited in what and how they are allowed to teach.  So many restrictions.

With parents having to work so much more, there is far less time for us to teach our children the important things like work ethic and a strong moral character.

Then comes the internet to just blast it’s brutal visage upon us all.  So few restrictions.

The moral of this who story is that maybe it’s time we look in to shifting how we teach our future.  How this is done I don’t rightly know.  Some nice ideas I have are;

Pay teachers more.  I would hope we love our teachers enough to pay them so they won’t have to get 2nd jobs.  Would they then have more time to dedicate to our children’s education?  Would more people be inspired to be teachers, to help guide our progeny.  We could then have more classes such as work ethic, morality, and even tax preparation, home upkeep, etc.

Maybe it’s time to put far more into education for everyone, instead of letting the internet spray it’s truth in our faces.

How to pay for it?  A special tax levied on insurance companies, bankers, politicians, hospitals, and pharmaceutical companies.  As well as the rest of the corporations and special interest groups that got us into this broken system to begin with.  Should have bailed out the people, not the banks.

Observation on Depression

It’s been a rough few weeks, I can’t lie.  I’ve had some very sad and trying times.  The up times have been mirrored by severe downswings.  I have questioned my own existence.  My purpose.  I still can’t figure it out, but I have figured out that the medication I was prescribed could be partially responsible for my depression being highly exacerbated.  I believe either Citalopram Hydrobromide or Duloxetine caused a suppression of the adrenal gland.  I think many of us have had this occur.  Not sure if this helps, but it helps me understand myself by typing it out.  Until next time.

 

Reflections of the Beginning

DSCF0307

This is a real life story, from the moment of realization, of a middle aged man(Jarred J Brown)<that’s me! and his midlife crisis.  The tale will be one of sadness, misery, suffering, and grief, evolving into an eye opening first hand look at the problems in Biomedicine and it’s treatment of mental illnesses.  Illnesses like Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, Clinical Depression, Anxiety, and many more, which to this day have no cure.  The “victims” of these syndromes are treated to a barrage of Biomeds created to treat only the symptoms, not heal the damage done first.  The proverbial bandage on a broken arm.  I hope you stay with me, ’cause I will be here for all of you.  Whether you know it or not. (no, I did not say stalking, quit that!)

 

That’s my original “mission statement” of my blog.  I reread it today and it holds true still today.  The more I look into the subject of depression I can see that it’s very common now.  There is also a common thread about prescription medication being ineffective or downright harmful, not to mention some can be addictive.  It’s an epidemic that we won’t survive without finding more effective ways of helping each other.

On top of that, it seems like the USA has simple lost it’s mind.  Proverbial of course, but the circumstances of each citizen seems perilous, by our definition.  We have a president that enrages a portion of the populace.  Pharmaceutical companies allowed to dole out drugs that are harmful.  Insurance companies forcing costs up.  A medical system that is profit based with obscene costs for the simplest of care.  Corporations that make choices based on bottom lines, rather than the betterment of society.

That’s the common message delivered to us through internet media.  A consistent barrage that we have to sift through so we can see the actual atrocities and push aside the blatant lies and misleading 1/2 truths.

Thanks for listening.

My Turn

I like commercial television.  I feel like it’s my turn to say “in my generation”.  Commercials reminded us what season it was, gave us new ideas of things to experience like concerts and theatre shows, and of course all the things we needed to buy at the places we loved to go, like Target, J.C. Penny, and Blockbuster.

I feel like, for me, we’re being pulled towards these tiny glowing screens.  The internet is full of brutal truth and blatant lies.  It seems like commercial TV uses a forgotten concept called ethics.  News casters would simply tell you what was happening in your area, around your state, and then around the world.  They did it with dignity and integrity.  They may have dirty stories to tell, but they use implied meaning instead of exposing everyone to gore or horrible reality.  Social media has no such reigns.  Lies and 1/2 truth stories can go viral in days leaving people to believe a falsehood without doing their own research.

On the other hand, it shows us real bruised knuckles and broken people.  Videos without remorse or consent.  Real live you never thought you could see in the Midwest USA.  Depravity and reality mixed.  It has shown so many people that they can live and whoever they want.  The only bounds are self implied.  Everyone can enjoy anything they like, without public ridicule.  They are then free to share that with like minded people around their web.  Free to meet and relate to similar souls.  Setting them free in ways they could never imagine.

My point?  Enjoy some commercial TV and take in a few new experiences.  Don’t believe anything you read on the internet until you fully research the topic.  Just today a close friend posted a fear mongering campaign against a non well researched topic.  It will lead people to believe only a fraction of the truth, mixed with lies and fear.