Sea-Monkeys: so eager to please

Honest to bloody God, I was going to postpone this 'til tomorrow or just forget all about it, being tired and crampy and out of sorts. But more and more evidence kept piling up. I went from one bizarre manifestation to another. You can still get these things, see - in fact I think a couple of my grandkids experimented with them. Which is what they are - a science experiment, or at least a biology experiment. These little suckers might be interesting to watch under a microscope. My brother similarly kept amoebae and paramecia in his room, feeding them on Brewer's yeast that was the most disgusting-smelling stuff that ever existed.

Being a kid of the '60s who read comics a lot (especially Archie, True Romance, Prince Valiant, and the nice fat Jimmy Olsen Annual that we always took to the cottage in the summer), I was aware of these sorts of ads. They looked absolutely brilliant and magical, and of course I never sent away for them. I never sent away for anything. Not Onion Gum. Not the Joy Buzzer. Not X-Ray Specs.The addresses were American and intimidating, and besides, I could never scrape together $1.25. It all went on Pixy Stix, sherbet fountains, Danish troll dolls, Beatles cards, and whatever else obsessed me at the time..

So I knew about these things, I was aware they existed, but it was a long time until I found out what they really were. I didn't see how these plump little creatures could emerge from a seemingly lifeless dry powder, as the ads claimed. Well, they didn't. They didn't lounge around on the patio sipping daiquiris and keeping up with the Sea-Monkey Joneses, either. The truth was far more sinister.

Though there were all sorts of these depictions, usually featuring beaming families with majestic castles in the background, I was suspicious. I was born suspicious, and it has served me better than any other trait I possess. So inevitably, the truth began to leak out. A friend of my brother's DID send away, and boy was he disappointed. Hardly anything hatched out, but what did hatch out was more like this:

It didn't seem to matter, because by then a whole Sea-Monkey Universe had sprung up, with competitive cycling, fox hunts, Olympic diving, swimsuit competitions etc. Whether or not this was fair to the organisms involved was debatable.

One of the most fascinating bits of Sea-Monkeyana I found was this thing that looks like a Christmas tree ornament. I thought: oh God, please - surely not! It turned out to be a bauble you can wear around your neck. How you get the Sea-Monkeys in there is anybody's guess, unless they hatch out inside it. Your friends would run screaming.

It took a long time for me to find the whole ad, but in my usual bloodhound fashion, I tracked it down. It's hard to read the bleary text, but we don't really have to. Our Sea-Monkey friends, still grinning hilariously, are crammed into this little ampule thing, not seeming to notice that they will soon suffocate. It's puzzling that in the smaller ad the Sea-Monkeys are green, a strange thing because the poses are exactly the same. (In fact, this is the only time I've seen Sea-Monkeys that aren't sickly pink.)

Though the paraphernalia has been somewhat modernized, Sea-Monkeys are just as hokey as ever. There's some sort of wrist capsule you can put them in, subjecting them to the same sort of torture as with that necklace thingie. They have become "cool" on the internet, leading to such bizarre phenomena as the Sea-Monkey Worship site. This has got to be the strangest site I've ever seen, if not the ugliest, but it has bad poetry about Sea-Monkeys in it, so it ain't all bad. Check it out, why don't you:

http://www.seamonkeyworship.com/

There was an overabundance of  material on this subject, although a few years ago there was hardly any. I found LOTS of pictures of people dressed up like Sea-Monkeys. Most of them were so plug-ugly I didn't include them, but this chick, whoever she is, is rather fetching. For a Sea-Monkey.

These would appear to be animated Sea-Monkeys from South Park and (I think) The Simpsons, in which the family refuses to behave like the promised Bowlfull of Happiness. Bowlfull of Angst is more like it.

"So eager to please," goes the copy, "they can even be trained." Trained to crash into each other?

Trying to "train" these, get them to ski or ride bicycles or do any of the other tricks in those ads, is kind of like trying to teach a sperm to walk. These things have about the same mentality. I mean, a sperm knows enough to swim upstream - or swim somewhere (actually, like Sea-Monkeys, I think they just swim randomly), and that's it, that's their whole bag of tricks. Sperm are sort of alive. Aren't they? Good God, of course they are, or there wouldn't be a human race! (Come to that, I wish they WEREN'T such good swimmers, but never mind). So if they're alive, do they have a brain? Do they have a nucleus, even, anything at all that drives them, that makes them "go" in their spermy little way? Ah, uh, probably not. So if the very essence of life, or half of it anyway, has no brain, WHAT SORT OF BRAIN DO THESE LITTLE BUGGERS HAVE? Dick-all!

The colors may be gaudier, the ads sexier, and the cost inflated, but a brine shrimp is still a brine shrimp. You might be able to make a mosquito jump through a hoop, but seriously - would you want to try?

Sea Monkeys Bad Poetry

Don't Spill My Monkeys

Oh No, here comes Rhakeem looking for some gold
Now he has spilled my monkeys, they were only 1 hour old
Now Sasha comes along thinking it some silly game
She turns the tank upside down and makes sea monkey rain
Nancy thinks its a snow globe and she stops by to shake it
I don't know if my poor sea monkeys are ever gonna make it
Please don't touch my monkeys, or spill them anymore
I started out with sixty, now I have only three or four
Stay away from the aquarium if you know what's best
I don't want any more sea monkeys dying in a puddle on my desk

Submitted by Jason Pauley

Sea-Monkey gone!

My Sea-Monkeys have simply gone!
Disappeared, forgotten, had the gong.
Oh, look! There in the water see;
One just as happy as can be!
There's another! I'm happy too.
"Now I can live well, just for you!"
"There are two more of your kind,
That I myself have managed to find."
Four! My grief has turned to joy!
"You each will have a different toy."

Written by Jill S. M. Hunter. You can see my stories at the Wall O' Grief

Untitled

I have a batch of Sea Monks,
I love them so, I do,
they swim around, swim
in circles above their little
green tank, so green, and
I love to watch you, to see
your little bodies swimming,
and to see your eyes, your
tiny little eyes, staring,
staring, staring at me
through the plastic that
is your home, oh how
I love you so,
my strange little pets

Submitted by Jeremy Stark

Untitled non-rhyming couplet

roses are red,
sea monkies are not

Submitted by Kali

Untitled free verse poem

sacred monkey of the sea
eternal friend of me
a little fish you are not

monkey you are!
oh, how i yearn to be your pal
never leave me, little gal
keep me in your heart and soul
ever swimming in your bowl (tank)
yippiee!

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Tally-ho! It's the Sea-Monkey Fox Hunt!

I wasn't going to write about Robin Williams

. . . because I did so already, angrily, because waste makes me angry, as does grief . . . because I wrote something last night that was so off-the-wall and extreme that I deleted it this morning. . . because I have some sort of medical thing that has me in extreme and excruciating pain in waves, so I tell myself, soon be over. . . soon be over. . . 

I had a thought. Everyone's having thoughts about these things now, because there it is, out in the open. It isn't just his endless need or requirement to be entertaining every second. It was the sheer volume of work, the movies, so many of them classics, back to back to back - WHO could maintain that level of intensity and not crack and drain out the bottom? That last photo of him was horrifying. He stood in the Dairy Queen, his face grey, probably twenty or thirty pounds underweight. There was no expression on his face. The staff in the Dairy Queen did not recognize him. What happened?

No one uses the term "burnout" any more. It's an expression that was popular oh, some time in the '80s, was it? It means - well, I don't need to explain what it means, do I? Frazzled wires, blown fuses, so much energy forced through the system, so far beyond its carrying capacity, that one day the whole thing blows up or melts down.

He was simply done. Or thought he was. The vessel was empty. I remember a line from Bob Dylan: "as you stare into the vacuum of his eyes". He was in the minuses now, so tapped out that you could see through him. He could walk through walls and haunt people before he was even dead.

Several times since the news, I've flipped into a frilly and frizzled state that I recognize all too well, the gaiety of grief, a mini-mania that can actually be quite enjoyable. Except that it isn't, and just under it is an exhaustion so profound that you can't begin to describe it. Times a million, and maybe you've got his plight. No one could do what he did, and then, at the very end, he couldn't either.

O Captain! My Captain! our fearful trip is done;
The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won;
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:

But O heart! heart! heart!

O the bleeding drops of red,

Where on the deck my Captain lies,

Fallen cold and dead.

O Captain! My Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills;
For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding;
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;

Here captain! dear father!

This arm beneath your head;

It is some dream that on the deck,

You've fallen cold and dead.

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;
The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;
From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won;

Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!

But I, with mournful tread,

Walk the deck my captain lies,

Fallen cold and dead.

The cure for depression

 The Cure for Depression

(or: “Can’t you just. . . ?”)

NOTE. Whenever mental illness pushes its way to the public forefront, a thing we all seem to want to shove back as hard as possible, for one brief shining moment people have all sorts of good intentions about being sensitive, being compassionate, listening, etc. I am here to tell you that it is ALL BULLSHIT and that practically NO ONE practices any of it. Instead, the depressed person is bossed around, due to the non-depressed person's primal terror of their friend's perceived weakness and loss of control. When Robin Williams destroyed himself, I saw things on Facebook that made me want to howl: "Oh well, he was just a whack job anyway. It was only a matter of time." Our free use of terms like "nut job" and "whacko" reveal the horror and contempt we feel for anyone suffering from ANY form of mental illness.(At the same time, we mouth certain pre-recorded words such as, "We need to reduce the stigma around mental illness.") As with the Black Plague, we fear contagion. We'd rather put these people in the stocks in the public square and throw rotten apples at them. But since that is "uncivilized", instead we tell them "helpful" things like the following - and it is, of course, all for their own good.

“It’s all in your mind.”

“You just need to give yourself a good swift kick in the rear.”

“No one ever said life was fair.”

“I think you enjoy wallowing in it."

"Depression is a choice, you know."

“Pull yourself up by your bootstraps.”

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself.”

"There are a lot of people worse off than you.”

“But it’s a beautiful day!”

“You have so many things to be thankful for!”

“You just want attention.”

“Happiness is a choice, you know.”

"Just read this book. It'll fix you right up."

“Everything happens for a reason.”

“There is always somebody worse off than you are.”

“You should get off all those pills.”

“You are what you think you are.”

“Cheer up!”

“Have you been praying/reading your Bible?”

"People who meditate don't get depressed."

“You need to get out more.”

"Don't you have a sense of humour?"

“Most folks are about as happy as they make up their minds to be.”

“Get a job!”

“Smile and the world smiles with you, cry and you cry alone.”

"Just read this book. It'll fix you right up."

“But you don’t look depressed. You seem fine to me.”

“You can do anything you want if you just set your mind to it.”

“Snap out of it, will you? You  have no reason to feel this way.”

“I wish I had the luxury of being depressed.”

“That which does not kill us makes us stronger.”

"Just read this book. It'll fix you right up."

"Do you want your family to suffer along with you?"

“Can't you at least make an effort?"

“Believe me, I know exactly how you feel. I was depressed once for several 

days.”

“Turn it over to your Higher Power.”

“I think your depression is a way of punishing us.”

“So, you’re depressed. Aren’t you always?”

“You’re always so negative! Look on the bright side.”

“What you need is some real tragedy in your life to give you perspective.”

“You’re a writer, aren’t you? Just think of all the good material you’re getting 

out of this.”

“Have you tried camomile tea?”

"I TOLD you to read that book."

“Go out and help someone who is worse off than you and you won’t have time

 to brood.”

“You have to take up your bed and carry on.”

“Well, we all have our crosses to bear.”

"I was depressed until I tried yoga."

“You don’t like feeling that way? Change it!"

“SMILE!”

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Robin, we hardly knew you

Suicide a risk even for beloved characters like Williams

Karen Weintraub and Dennis Kelly, USA TODAY10:05 p.m. EDT August 11, 2014

That a "universally beloved" entertainer like Robin WIlliams could commit suicide "speaks to the power of psychiatric illness," mental health experts say.

Robin Williams, who died Monday at age 63, had some of the risk factors for suicide: He was known to have bipolar disorder, depression and drug abuse problems, said Julie Cerel, a psychologist and board chair of American Association of Suicidology.

People who are severely depressed can't see past their failures, even if they've been as successful as Williams.

"With depression, people just forget," said Cerel, also an associate professor at the University of Kentucky. "They get so consumed by the depression and by the feelings of not being worthy that they forget all the wonderful things in their lives."

They feel like a burden on their family and that the world would be better off without them.

"Having depression and being in a suicidal state twists reality. It doesn't matter if someone has a wife or is well loved," Cerel said.

Williams was certainly beloved, as shown by the outpouring of grief and sympathy on social media outlets last night.

Ken Duckworth, medical director of the National Alliance on Mental Illness, agrees the impact is "shocking" when it involves a "universally loved character" like WIlliams.

He caught the news while watching TV with his children. "They all said, 'Nooo, not Robin Williams.'" It's hard to hear that successful people like Williams, who was a genius of comedy, could also have this vulnerability, Duckworth said. "You'd like to think they're immune from the heartache and suffering of mental illness and that isn't true."

"It speaks to the need for better treatments and the need for society to be more welcoming to people who have these conditions," he said.

About 90% of people who commit suicide have some kind of psychiatric illness that's typically untreated or "undertreated," he said.

Cerel said the impact of suicide ripples far beyond immediate family members.

"Friends, people in our social network, even when it's people on TV, it really affects us all," she said. "Even though most of us don't know him directly, he's someone who's entertained us, and (his death) will have an effect on us and will make us think of others who've died."

The fact that someone as successful as Williams could kill himself shows that suicide is "not about objective markers of happiness and success," said Dost Ongur, an associate professor of psychiatry at Harvard Medical School and chief of the psychotic disorders division at McLean Hospital outside of Boston.

The deep psychic pain that drove Williams to suicide, "must have been part of his experience all along," Ongur said. "It was part and parcel of his gregarious, funny, so intelligent, so special outward persona – but on the inside it seems like it wasn't always happiness."

In addition to previous problems with mental illness, Williams was also in a demographic that is particularly vulnerable to suicide, Ongur said.

White, middle-aged men with medical problems are at the highest risk for suicide, he said. It's not entirely clear why that is, but Ongur said "this idea of control and virility and being able to deal with the world in a certain way – as that starts to slip away, there's often a sense of loss of control and threat to one's manhood, and that seems to be associated with higher rates of suicide."

Although depression can last for years, suicidal thinking is "a temporary state of mind and it will pass," Ongur said. If someone is deterred from a suicide attempt, they are likely to get over their urge to kill themselves, he said, so it is crucial that people who are suicidal get help.

Advocates for people with mental illness say they hope Williams' death will motivate more people to get help for depression, and spur the USA to treat suicide as a public health crisis. Suicide claims more than 38,000 American lives each year -- more than the number killed by car accidents, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention -- and the rate hasn't budged in decades, says Jeffrey Lieberman, professor and chairman of psychiatry at New York's Columbia University College of Physicians and Surgeons

"We know what to do to prevent suicide," Liebeman says. "We just don't do it."

Williams could put a human face on a problem that often gets little attention, Lieberman says.

"He was such a charismatic and beloved figure, that if his death can galvanize our society to act instead of just grieve, it will be a fitting memorial to him."

Surprising lies: who buys them?

 
























Surprising Reading Facts (Infographic)

by Robb Brewer, pastor, Gateway Churh

UPDATE:

An infographic I posted a several months ago has produced much interest. Several websites used the graphic on their own pages which has caused large numbers of people to blow up my email wondering about my statistical sources.

First, I created the graphic because I’m a book lover and wanted to express my passion for reading through a different method. While I’m well-versed in research methodologies, my goal wasn’t–and still isn’t–to produce a quantitative, peer-reviewed product. I simply wanted to illustrate reading importance.
Second, I was curious to know if I could create an interesting graphic. I’ll just assume I found the answer to that one.

                                                                     

  Rev. Robb Brewer

Here’s what I’ve discovered about the source on the original graphic:

According to a Jenkins Group Facebook post in 2011, the reading statistics are incorrectly attributed to the Jenkins Group. Apparently Jerrold Jenkins, owner and founder of the Jenkins Group, presented the observations to a group of small publishers using data from the Book Industry Study Group, American Book Sellers Institute, and US News and World

Report. https://www.facebook.com/jenkinsgroup/posts/10151053968015564
A New York fundraiser who hosts a reading blog contacted the Jenkins Group to ask about their study. She discovered the company distances itself from the statistics; while they admit their owner, Jerrold Jenkins, presented the material, they never actually published the report. http://www.libereading.com/2012/04/in-which-i-execute-some-hard-hitting.html

I think it’s safe to say the stats from the original graphic are questionable, and I am therefore recanting any and all connection to them.

At the same time, I still believe in the absolute viability of reading and it’s ability to radically impact a person’s life. In an age where our smartphones will read aloud to us, we risk watering down this life-changing skill. So here’s a new graphic. The stats aren’t as juicy, but it still supports my original point: reading is important.




   Rev. Robb Brewer's new, "less juicy" graphic


By the way, I'm not changing the last box from the original graphic. I like Earl Nightingale's thought. It's not research-based, but it makes me feel good--just like reading.

                         
                         Elmer Gantry, con-man, seducer, and salesman for the Lord



http://www.robertbrewer.org/disciple/surprising-book-facts-infographic/


Read this carefully, and you'll discover how total crap can be presented - nay, ACCEPTED - as fact.

I've seen and heard people quote these "statistics" (from the original, non-backpedalling/shit-eating version) many times, and not one person questioned their veracity. Mostly they seem to feel outrage, blaming internet culture and the school system. But could there be more to this thing? How could there NOT be, when the so-called stats are so ridiculous?

Then I noticed the tiny lettering at the bottom of the graphic:  Robert Brewer, a name that immediately made me wonder: who is this guy, and could these unbelievable statistics be true?

The answer is no.

In a blog post (see link, above), Pastor Brewer admits that he "created" this graphic to impress people about the problem of illiteracy. He admits he did not concern himself with accuracy: "While I’m well-versed in research methodologies, my goal wasn’t–and still isn’t–to produce a quantitative, peer-reviewed product. I simply wanted to illustrate reading importance." But not only are the stats completely bogus, and not only did he KNOW they were bogus, he would not admit to being the source, nor would he take responsibility for passing on known distortions and lies. In fact, he quickly passes the blame to someone else. 

Perhaps feeling the heat from a few nitpicking killjoys, Brewer begins to buck-pass to a mysterious association called the Jenkins Group, who also quickly deny they knew anything about the "statistics". It all started with one guy, apparently, and they sure aren't going to support HIM any more (even though his name is Jenkins and he owns the group). It finally ends with this astonishing statement: "I think it’s safe to say the stats from the original graphic are questionable, and I am therefore recanting any and all connection to them."  Like Pontius Pilate, when the heat is on, Reverend Brewer very hastily washes his hands. 

                              

Meanwhile, his Surprising Book Facts (a. k. a. Surprising Reading Facts - how come they changed the title, anyway?) is now world-famous, still widely quoted in schools, and discussed over coffee in offices everywhere, often with gasps and groans: "oh, look at THIS," "I can't believe this," "what has our school system come to?" etc. etc., while not ONE person takes the time to see if any of it is valid. The final conclusion about "becoming an international expert in seven years" is an especial favorite, a real crowd-pleaser with its inspirational message of hope. ("Gee, do you think it's really true?" "Well, I guess it MUST be.")

Why are people buying this? Why is ANYBODY buying it? It's written down, that's why. It's on the internet. It's in a neat-looking graphic with nice colors, eye-catching. In some cases people are actually quite offended if you try to debunk it, maybe out of pride: they can't or won't acknowledge they fell for this swill. What's the matter with you, are you cynical about everything now? Don't be so negative!

Brewer seems to think it's all to the good, justifying his deception by claiming it gets the discussion going about the general illiteracy of our culture. My favorite line is the little kicker at the end: "By the way, I'm not changing the last box from the original graphic. I like Earl Nightingale's thought. It's not research-based, but it makes me feel good--just like reading." Note how it's suddenly "Earl Nightingale's thought", not his. Brewer must have gone to the Jim Bakker School of Evasive Whitewashing, like all these assholes do.  But is making yourself feel good sufficient grounds for pushing fabricated "statistics" on an absurdly gullible public?

You decide.

A few late-blooming thoughts:

I just saw another blog where a young woman claimed to have "cracked" this complex mystery with some "hard-hitting investigative journalism". I'm not sure what she meant by that, because this thing is so transparent that all you have to do is read the guy's name at the bottom of the original infographic and google it. The info I needed came up in seconds. Not so hard-hitting, not so investigative, unless that's what passes for investigation now. By the way, Rev. Brewer's name was never mentioned in her post. She had, at best, a very superficial knowledge of the Jenkins Group and their association with the "infographic". She also claimed that, while the statistics may have been valid ten years ago when the graphic was originally designed, it was probably somewhat out of date now. What can I say - she's too nice to investigate anything.

Kicker to the kicker: spot the sloppy writing!:

"At the same time, I still believe in the absolute viability of reading and it’s ability to radically impact a person’s life."

This is all about literacy, is it not? Is it not about taking care with language and learning to write with a modicum of proficiency, especially when (literally) PREACHING to us all about literacy, presuming you are here to straighten us all out? This is making me so angry I have to get away from it before I kill someone. To the world, I want to say, WISE UP. IT AIN'T THAT HARD.

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