Posted by: Harold Knight | 09/19/2009

Sometimes I feel like a motherless chili

So I decided this would be a good way for me just to write about the wonderful

O most merciful redeemer, friend and brother,
may I know thee more clearly,
love thee more dearly,
and follow thee more nearly,
day by day

happenings in my head (thank you for sharing, St. Richard). You know, like out-of-body experiences, and rages I can’t control, and depression that keeps me sitting on the sofa watching (alternately) America’s Funniest Home Videos and Ultimate Fighting Championship instead of doing the dishes or working out or vacuuming the floor or grading papers or reading a book or playing the piano or writing a letter or any of those other things I “ought” to be doing.

I’ve done everything I can to set up this blog. Honest. I filled out a profile, but I don’t know where the hell it is. It ain’t here, that’s for sure. I’ve been looking for bipolar support groups this morning, but I can’t find any that look interesting. So I decided to do this instead. My shrink tells me I’m never supposed to say I’m crazy: hence, the title of this blog.

The Ultimate Fight Championship is really inside my head, though. Who will win tonight??  A little Epilepsy here, a little mania there, some depression on the side, and a huge helping of sloth.


Sloth, depression, or I don’t give a damn?

Try it. Try telling a friend that you’re fascinated (obsessed) with wondering how life started and where it will end, at least for you. Especially tell your friend that you wonder what being dead will be like. Now you exist in consciousness, now you don’t. Here’s what you’ll get from your friend. 1) Everyone has those thoughts. Don’t dwell on it. 2) Don’t think about it; you’ll only get depressed, pretty much quoting Rosencrantz to Guildenstern.  Or, 3) Why think about things that you can’t change and can’t figure out. Just live life and be happy‘”(My Journal, August 31).

“…romantic suicide is exemplified by that of the English poet Thomas Chatterton (1752-70), who, living in squalid poverty, poisoned himself with arsenic — not for love, but for want of recognition and fame. Chatterton became the prototype of the brilliant young suicide. Keats dedicated the poetic romance ‘Endymion’ (1818) to his memory, and he was eulogized by Coleridge and Wordsworth.”  Mims, Cedric. When We Die: the Science, Culture, and Rituals of Death. New York: St. Martin’s, 1999 (39).

I’m not young, brilliant, or romantic. This is not a suicide note. But sometimes a guy’s just gotta say what a guy’s gotta say.


Yes, Jesus loves me; yes, Jesus loves me; my neurologist told me so.





  1. What evidence does your neurologist have to support this assertion?


  2. He reads the academic journals.
    It takes a manic to know a manic (and love him?)

    Joseph, R. “The Limbic System and the Soul: Evolution and the Neuroanatomy of Religious Experience.” Zygon: Journal of Religion & Science 36.1 (Mar2001): 129.

    “Depression, mood swings, episodic violence, and hyposexuality (as well as hypersexuality) are also associated with temporal lobe and amygdala
    hyperactivation. As for hallucinations, Jesus did go alone into the wilderness for forty days, and there he saw and spoke with ‘Satan.’ Jesus frequently sought solitude and isolation. Many religious figures have done likewise. . . Jesus also was known to fly into violent and destructive rages, such as when he yelled, cursed, overturned the tables, and struck and chased the moneylenders from the temple (John 2:14–15). He also frequently appeared irritable, sullen, gloomy, depressed, distrustful, and angry with his disciples. Jesus was also not beyond behaving in a petulant and sadistic manner, such as when he repeatedly refused the request of ‘a woman of Canaan’ who ‘came and cried unto him, saying, ‘Have mercy on me, O Lord; my daughter is grievously vexed with a devil.’” In his answer he referred to her as a dog.”
    There. See?


  3. I love you wrinkles and all. You might try using paper plates 🙂


  4. That might support a claim that Jesus was mentally ill, but I’m still nor convinced he loves you, me or anyone else.


    • “I have ever thought religion a concern purely between our God and our consciences for which we were accountable to him, and not to [anyone else]….I never told my own religion nor scrutinized that of another. I never attempted to make a convert, nor wish to change another’s creed.” Jefferson, Thomas. The Complete Jefferson, ed. Saul K. Padover. New York: Duell, Sloan & Pearce, 1943 (955).


      • Changing someone’s religious belief is like changing their drug of choice. What’s the point?


  5. I too, love you wrinkles and all. Just stay the way you are.


  6. […] have read the required texts for navigating through the life of the first decade of the 21st century (actually, I have no idea what readings are requisite for […]



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