THIS SHOULD BE AN ADVENTURE

For the last three weeks I've been at half the dose of the two antidepressants I take, Welllbutrin and Lexapro. This is part of my neurofeedback therapy; at a certain point the drugs are more of an obstruction than a help for technical reasons, so it's a good idea to reduce them.

So far, so good. I had some crummy withdrawal effects but nothing out of the ordinary psychologically. Not better, not worse.

As of today I'm off both meds completely. After another three weeks of NFB I stop NFB, and then over the next few weeks I'm supposed to get some idea of how much this whole thing has helped. My practitioner says that in her experience people don't really feel the useful effects of neurofeedback until after it's stopped and some of its side effects are reduced. We'll see.

This is the first time in nearly 20 years that I've not been on some type of SSRI antidepressant and the first time in at least two that I've not been on a dopaminergic medication. I wonder what Mr. Brain's gonna do this week?

If you see me up in a tree wearing a Russian admiral's uniform and singing the Laughing Song from Faust, etc., notify a physician.

this is the way the world ends, not with a bang but a Hummer

1. Welcome to Orange County, where being a summer reading star gets you deadly, lead-tainted toy prizes from the library!
   
   
2. Welcome to Orange County, where a nice crab roll at Riptide Sushi fills your lungs with ravenous, deadly parasites! Edit: link fixed
   
   
3. Welcome to Orange County, where even the [correction] guy who looks like a carnie biker to the Register, who fixes cop cars and drinks at Skosh Monahan's thinks that the mayor of Costa Mesa is fucking shit up with his anti-Mexican pogrom.
   
   
4. Welcome to America, where we push our children through our gigantic supermarkets in remotely managed mind control devices on wheels.
   
   
5. Welcome to New Orleans, where a night in jail turned into the Raft of the Medusa last year.
   
   
6. And now, welcome back to Orange County, where the richest, whitest, prettiest kids in the world will try to convert you you a religion they cannot in any meaningful way understand.

it appears I've been on a crapload of "metro" systems

I left some out because memories were hazy from childhood, but wow. Still a lot.

Got at b3co.com!

What Would Amos Say?

Cheap grace means grace sold on the market like cheapjacks' wares. [...] The essence of grace, we suppose, is that the account has been paid in advance; and, because it has been paid, everything can be had for nothing. Since the cost was infinite, the possibilities of using and spending it are infinite. What would grace be if it were not cheap? — Diedrich Bonhoeffer, The Cost of Discipleship

From the Register article I cited yesterday about the "SWAT Team" kids preaching on the beach. Photo credit to Andy Templeton for this excellent piece of photojournalism. The other pics with the article are good also.

The perfectly scrubbed whiteness of these people — even when they're not white — is alarming. They exist in a perfect bubble of privilege and cultural isolation. Their friends and family are all like them. Their ideal world is a kind of 1903 Tennesse where everyone is inexplicably 2006 "cool": chastity, whiteness, conservative politics, extreme sports, rock 'n' roll music, TV, great new snacks, and women in their place, obediently following behind their husbands even while surfing some massive waves.

The place where dogmatic evangelical religion and cluelessly neotenized teenage privilege meet is the best-gilded turd you'll ever see. But you'll smell it, too. Smell is pretty strong around these parts.

today's phrases

head weasels
vegan cake studio
I was asked by the store manager to use the monkey
SNAKES IN A BRAIN, MOTHERFUCKIN' SNAKES IN MY FUCKIN' BRAIN
terror mules
soft saints

Scéan at Kéan

Fulla churchians as usual. Very loud International Coffees/No Sex in the City women near me churchin' it up. Youth group inside meeting.

The women are alternating hymn singing and laughing about relationships and being high on life.

The youth group noisily disbands outside near me. A guy hands me a CD. "Want this CD? It's about Jesus."

"No thanks."

...pause...

"I hear there's a book, too."

There is a five second silence.

"Uhh... Umm... Yeah! It's a er... Good Book."