lobotomy, mental illness, Uncategorized

The Epistle of Forgiveness

I woke up this morning, totally clean off the long list of my mental illnesses, which I suffered from for 25 years, or more. …Yesss, it is a miracle and miracles happen. Thanks lord for the healing. No matter how late, I always knew it, my faith never doubted your healing.
 I know by heart the story of the sick man who waited 38 years by the lake for someone to volunteer and push him towards the water when your angel comes to stir it, yet no one ever cared, but you did,  my lord.
Dear sweet Jesus,Thanks for the healing. The healing of that sick dude by the lake but not for my “Never Happened” kind of healing as I stopped asking you for it. I still believe in you though, as my lord, my saviour and my God,  but it just too late Jesus, too late.

I always wondered, Could it not had just made more sense as a miracle to offer the lake guy,  aside of the healing,  his life back as well!!  makes sense to you??  all these years which were wasted while he was battling day and night in constant pain such an absurd battle like a soldier who found himself in a middle of fierce, endless, painful, pointless, undescribable battle, he was not even a soldier Jesus and you knew it, nevertheless,  you put him in a begging status for a victory he had never wished to acquire, such an empty shallow victory with no virtue or wisdom in it. The soldier hopelessly trying to avoid the deadly stabs he recieves from every possible direction, but he has no idea where the hell they keep relentlessly comin from and the bleeding has never stopped Jesus, it has never stopped.
By any chance lord, had the dude of the lake ever got a chance to catch up with life after 38 years of laying by a stupid lake like a tree in a vegatative state!!!  an aching, decaying and rotten tree!? we never knew and you never said. Did he have any family? a waiting wife? Kids? or he was just waiting 38 years to start a family, going to college and look for a job, after the healing???
Jesus, we grow old, remember? You made us that way. Jesus, look…When you set free a wrongfully accused prisoner who spent 38 years in his solitary confinement , he probably will kill some inmate before the release day to maintain a ceiling over his head, nasty 3 meals they offer him inside , and the medical services which he won’t at that late phase of life be able to provide outside…..Well, well, Jesus, actually the truth is that he wanted to stay inside not really to keep the ceiling, the meals or the medical attention , but because he just can’t go back outside ,  “The Outside” which he was taken from by no good reason,  “The Outside” which he scares it by now, no attachment left jesus,  the desire to reconcile with ” The Outside” was diminshed long time ago, Jesus, Now you are sending him to “The Outside” under an act only you call it  “Mercy and better late than never, Justice”.
…Com’on jesus,  just leave the man alone to spend what’s left in his life where he used to live without even knowing why he ended up in that place…. actually he stopped wondering.
Seriuolsly!!!Jesus!!! you just throw people into this to show up after 38 years and to preform the healing act from exactly what you had intensionaly and cruelly implanted into them 38 years ago? and you call that a miracle? mmmmm!!!
 Oh yeah, the pastor says “illness is not from God, God does Not ever send such bad things”  oh, So sure he means that the Satan which also you created as an angel and then changed your mind, is the one who does this to our bodies, brains and lives!!? fine by me, fine by me, so may be next time I got to negotiate with “Your Handmade”  Satan directly for a deal of relief.
…. The Satan which you have defeated by your ressurction, so he gets No control over our lives, brains and bodies, seems that he “Resurrected” as well, Jesus, to strip you from the power of hurting but keeps to you the power of healing after 38 years. Is that the balanced deal of the good cop and the bad cop? is that the bet between you guys over our lives and souls?
Jesus, the pastor also said as well that we do not understand the concept of the miracles… as miracles take place for the world to glorify you and know that you are ” the way, the truth and the life”  O, Lord, you just added an insult to an injury,  that even makes it worse. So you have just helped the lake man who was eaten alive for 38 years of pain just to use him as a demonstrating dummy to prove your Godly powers!!!! and for the rest to believe that you are the one and the only God”, I think it was fair to tell him that you even do not give a damn about what he personally endured, and the show would have gone on anyways with any other stage guest. Believe it or not Jesus, that guy had first , middle and last name just exactly like you , may be just your gospels forgot his name, or actually his name was considered as an extra unnecessary piece of knowledge which won’t add to the show any extra value….

 Jesus, did you really ask him if he wants to get well?  Was he just tanning there for 38 years?  now I know why there is no mention of your buddy  “Lazarus” after you raised him from death, probably because he died again in couple weeks or so.

Jesus, is it the lifetime chronic pain is the thing which paves our way to heaven?? …. So those I have met in the “Lunatic Asylums” whom were involuntary stripped from the reality, their sanity, their identities, their memories, their consciousness, their cognitive abilities, their human emotions and human roles as mothers, fathers , sons, daughters, sisters and brothers.  Jesus, you stripped those brainless mad from their ability to experience real and humane life, you separated them from the ones they used to know and used to love to be locked up in cages which phsyciatry students love to visit , watch and take notes through their field trips to these funny farms …… Are these patients are the chosen ones for your “after life” smart surprise, ha? Jesus? because let me tell you if you are not knowledgeble enough about your produce; those people got no brains to know you anymore, got not will to wait in faith for your healing or your heaven, got no spirituality to feel the glory of this experiment, got no feelings left either for you or anyone else. In their good and sane days, the maximum level of wellness they could reach is to be like the playfull pets , do you take pets in heaven,  jesus?  you might start considering taking in pets because pets know who feeds them and they are capable to develop feelings and they do feel and enjoy reality but those patients do not , they do not, jesus, they just don’t. They won’t know you, and they won’t happily jump in air when you come home, not because they can’t jump but because simply they do not understand what home is anymore jesus….Oh, of course, that also does not matter to you and those maniacs will be also Involuntary thrown into your heaven?  I forgot,  We are all just “Yours”…

We are just yours ,Jesus, and every thing must be only for your own glory and the life on earth is just delusions such an evaporated steam, right Jesus? .
 Isn’t that the same exact evaporated steam life which you cried out all night while you were heavily sweating to your father to maintain it and secure it for you!!!  Isn’t that the exact same pain which you encourage us to happily recieve and enjoy for your own sake, the same exact pain you cried to your father to be bypassed so you do not feel it !!!
You wanted life Jesus yourself, so do not lie please,  you hated pain also.
You felt at a moment that this thing which will save the whole humanity from the eternal pain could just be rescheduled or even better that it does not ever take place at all because you believed , even for only one night,  that your personal life on earth could not just be cut short in such an absurd fashion!!!!
… At that moment,  it was not a good reason for you jesus to be put through all that pain. Saving the humanity for you at that monent wasn’t a good reason to bare such pain.
…You loved life, Jesus, you loved yourself , yes you did , yes you did,  while asking others to hate it. You cried out loudly to your daddy to hire someone else for that mission.
… Jesus why you got so scared and terrified from pain and death? Why you cared about your earthy life? ….. If only I have the same assurance you had that my pain is saving the world and without it the whole humanity will be put in an eternal distress , I might have accepted my fate without spending all night begging not to go through it , I would have accepted it in more bravery manner than you jesus.
… Jesus you were coward and weak which is fine by me, just admit it… Jesus, you wanted to back off and cancel the mission which you were sent to earth only to execute but for us, pain should be happiness , loss should be gain, dark narrow depressive tunnels must feel like beautiful parks, Take pain and thank me , take more happily,- give me more pain please jesus-  you say “loose your life … fine fine, rewards are waiting , no pain no gain”  ha? , so death should be fun, and all to bless and to glorify your name….
…Jesus , let me tell you this , the life you failed to design intelligently is already meaningless and unbearable even before adding the fun part to it which you call it “The Blessed Pain” . So are you adding pain just to reach with us a new level of torturing? like a kid who is playing a video game and can not handle the excitement of reaching a new level!?
Oh, Jesus, I would never hate you or doubt you , simply because of my “Apathetic Depression” I am not capable to hate or love anymore. Thanks to you or to your satan or to your life or to your sacred plan or to whoever contributed in designing my lovely life, I really do know him, and have no interest to.
Hope you read this one day Jesus, because I know your lawyers, subordinates and servants on earth do not pass such notes to your attention so they do not change your mood. Sorry Jesus, for changing your mood by my unsacerd rant, I just don’t have whoever stop whatsoever changes the mood before it reaches me. I don’t have your luxurious Godly life, dear lord , Jesus.
Your beloved son
🕸🥀Michael SF Ibrahim🥀🕸

Papin..when madness comes in pairs



September 12, 2008, David Foster Wallace wrote a two-page suicide note and hanged himself . He was 46, three years earlier he delivered his only public speech, THISISWATER. https://web.ics.purdue.edu/~drkelly/DFWKenyonAddress2005.pdf Transcription of the 2005 Kenyon Commencement Address – May 21, 2005 Written and Delivered by David Foster Wallace (If anybody feels like perspiring [cough], I’d advise you to go ahead, because I’m sure going to. In fact I’m gonna [mumbles while pulling up his gown and taking out a handkerchief from his pocket].) Greetings [“parents”?] and congratulations to Kenyon’s graduating class of 2005. There are these two young fish swimming along and they happen to meet an older fish swimming the other way, who nods at them and says “Morning, boys. How’s the water?” And the two young fish swim on for a bit, and then eventually one of them looks over at the other and goes “What the hell is water?” This is a standard requirement of US commencement speeches, the deployment of didactic little parable-ish stories. The story [“thing”] turns out to be one of the better, less bullshitty conventions of the genre, but if you’re worried that I plan to present myself here as the wise, older fish explaining what water is to you younger fish, please don’t be. I am not the wise old fish. The point of the fish story is merely that the most obvious, important realities are often the ones that are hardest to see and talk about. Stated as an English sentence, of course, this is just a banal platitude, but the fact is that in the day to day trenches of adult existence, banal platitudes can have a life or death importance, or so I wish to suggest to you on this dry and lovely morning. Of course the main requirement of speeches like this is that I’m supposed to talk about your liberal arts education’s meaning, to try to explain why the degree you are about to receive has actual human value instead of just a material payoff. So let’s talk about the single most pervasive cliché in the commencement speech genre, which is that a liberal arts education is not so much about filling you up with knowledge as it is about quote teaching you how to think. If you’re like me as a student, you’ve never liked hearing this, and you tend to feel a bit insulted by the claim that you needed anybody to teach you how to think, since the fact that you even got admitted to a college this good seems like proof that you already know how to think. But I’m going to posit to you that the liberal arts cliché turns out not to be insulting at all, because the really significant education in thinking that we’re supposed to get in a place like this isn’t really about the capacity to think, but rather about the choice of what to think about. If your total freedom of choice regarding what to think about seems too obvious to waste time discussing, I’d ask you to think about fish and water, and to bracket for just a few minutes your skepticism about the value of the totally obvious. Here’s another didactic little story. There are these two guys sitting together in a bar in the remote Alaskan wilderness. One of the guys is religious, the other is an atheist, and the two are arguing about the existence of God with that special intensity that comes after about the fourth beer. And the atheist says: “Look, it’s not like I don’t have actual reasons for not believing in God. It’s not like I haven’t ever experimented with the whole God and prayer thing. Just last month I got caught away from the camp in that terrible blizzard, and I was totally lost and I couldn’t see a thing, and it was fifty below, and so I tried it: I fell to my knees in the snow and cried out ‘Oh, God, if there is a God, I’m lost in this blizzard, and I’m gonna die if you don’t help me.'” And now, in the bar, the religious guy looks at the atheist all puzzled. “Well then you must believe now,” he says, “After all, here you are, alive.” The atheist just rolls his eyes. “No, man, all that was was a couple Eskimos happened to come wandering by and showed me the way back to camp.” It’s easy to run this story through kind of a standard liberal arts analysis: the exact same experience can mean two totally different things to two different people, given those people’s two different belief templates and two different ways of constructing meaning from experience. Because we prize tolerance and diversity of belief, nowhere in our liberal arts analysis do we want to claim that one guy’s interpretation is true and the other guy’s is false or bad. Which is fine, except we also never end up talking about just where these individual templates and beliefs come from. Meaning, where they come from INSIDE the two guys. As if a person’s most basic orientation toward the world, and the meaning of his experience were somehow just hard-wired, like height or shoe-size; or automatically absorbed from the culture, like language. As if how we construct meaning were not actually a matter of personal, intentional choice. Plus, there’s the whole matter of arrogance. The nonreligious guy is so totally certain in his dismissal of the possibility that the passing Eskimos had anything to do with his prayer for help. True, there are plenty of religious people who seem arrogant and certain of their own interpretations, too. They’re probably even more repulsive than atheists, at least to most of us. But religious dogmatists’ problem is exactly the same as the story’s unbeliever: blind certainty, a close-mindedness that amounts to an imprisonment so total that the prisoner doesn’t even know he’s locked up. The point here is that I think this is one part of what teaching me how to think is really supposed to mean. To be just a little less arrogant. To have just a little critical awareness about myself and my certainties. Because a huge percentage of the stuff that I tend to be automatically certain of is, it turns out, totally wrong and deluded. I have learned this the hard way, as I predict you graduates will, too. Here is just one example of the total wrongness of something I tend to be automatically sure of: everything in my own immediate experience supports my deep belief that I am the absolute center of the universe; the realist, most vivid and important person in existence. We rarely think about this sort of natural, basic self-centeredness because it’s so socially repulsive. But it’s pretty much the same for all of us. It is our default setting, hard-wired into our boards at birth. Think about it: there is no experience you have had that you are not the absolute center of. The world as you experience it is there in front of YOU or behind YOU, to the left or right of YOU, on YOUR TV or YOUR monitor. And so on. Other people’s thoughts and feelings have to be communicated to you somehow, but your own are so immediate, urgent, real. Please don’t worry that I’m getting ready to lecture you about compassion or other-directedness or all the so-called virtues. This is not a matter of virtue. It’s a matter of my choosing to do the work of somehow altering or getting free of my natural, hard-wired default setting which is to be deeply and literally self-centered and to see and interpret everything through this lens of self. People who can adjust their natural default setting this way are often described as being “well-adjusted”, which I suggest to you is not an accidental term. Given the triumphant academic setting here, an obvious question is how much of this work of adjusting our default setting involves actual knowledge or intellect. This question gets very tricky. Probably the most dangerous thing about an academic education — least in my own case — is that it enables my tendency to over-intellectualize stuff, to get lost in abstract argument inside my head, instead of simply paying attention to what is going on right in front of me, paying attention to what is going on inside me. As I’m sure you guys know by now, it is extremely difficult to stay alert and attentive, instead of getting hypnotized by the constant monologue inside your own head (may be happening right now). Twenty years after my own graduation, I have come gradually to understand that the liberal arts cliché about teaching you how to think is actually shorthand for a much deeper, more serious idea: learning how to think really means learning how to exercise some control over how and what you think. It means being conscious and aware enough to choose what you pay attention to and to choose how you construct meaning from experience. Because if you cannot exercise this kind of choice in adult life, you will be totally hosed. Think of the old cliché about quote the mind being an excellent servant but a terrible master. This, like many clichés, so lame and unexciting on the surface, actually expresses a great and terrible truth. It is not the least bit coincidental that adults who commit suicide with firearms almost always shoot themselves in: the head. They shoot the terrible master. And the truth is that most of these suicides are actually dead long before they pull the trigger. And I submit that this is what the real, no bullshit value of your liberal arts education is supposed to be about: how to keep from going through your comfortable, prosperous, respectable adult life dead, unconscious, a slave to your head and to your natural default setting of being uniquely, completely, imperially alone day in and day out. That may sound like hyperbole, or abstract nonsense. Let’s get concrete. The plain fact is that you graduating seniors do not yet have any clue what “day in day out” really means. There happen to be whole, large parts of adult American life that nobody talks about in commencement speeches. One such part involves boredom, routine, and petty frustration. The parents and older folks here will know all too well what I’m talking about. By way of example, let’s say it’s an average adult day, and you get up in the morning, go to your challenging, white-collar, college-graduate job, and you work hard for eight or ten hours, and at the end of the day you’re tired and somewhat stressed and all you want is to go home and have a good supper and maybe unwind for an hour, and then hit the sack early because, of course, you have to get up the next day and do it all again. But then you remember there’s no food at home. You haven’t had time to shop this week because of your challenging job, and so now after work you have to get in your car and drive to the supermarket. It’s the end of the work day and the traffic is apt to be: very bad. So getting to the store takes way longer than it should, and when you finally get there, the supermarket is very crowded, because of course it’s the time of day when all the other people with jobs also try to squeeze in some grocery shopping. And the store is hideously lit and infused with soul-killing muzak or corporate pop and it’s pretty much the last place you want to be but you can’t just get in and quickly out; you have to wander all over the huge, over-lit store’s confusing aisles to find the stuff you want and you have to maneuver your junky cart through all these other tired, hurried people with carts (et cetera, et cetera, cutting stuff out because this is a long ceremony) and eventually you get all your supper supplies, except now it turns out there aren’t enough check-out lanes open even though it’s the end-of-the-day rush. So the checkout line is incredibly long, which is stupid and infuriating. But you can’t take your frustration out on the frantic lady working the register, who is overworked at a job whose daily tedium and meaninglessness surpasses the imagination of any of us here at a prestigious college. But anyway, you finally get to the checkout line’s front, and you pay for your food, and you get told to “Have a nice day” in a voice that is the absolute voice of death. Then you have to take your creepy, flimsy, plastic bags of groceries in your cart with the one crazy wheel that pulls maddeningly to the left, all the way out through the crowded, bumpy, littery parking lot, and then you have to drive all the way home through slow, heavy, SUV-intensive, rush-hour traffic, et cetera et cetera. Everyone here has done this, of course. But it hasn’t yet been part of you graduates’ actual life routine, day after week after month after year. But it will be. And many more dreary, annoying, seemingly meaningless routines besides. But that is not the point. The point is that petty, frustrating crap like this is exactly where the work of choosing is gonna come in. Because the traffic jams and crowded aisles and long checkout lines give me time to think, and if I don’t make a conscious decision about how to think and what to pay attention to, I’m gonna be pissed and miserable every time I have to shop. Because my natural default setting is the certainty that situations like this are really all about me. About MY hungriness and MY fatigue and MY desire to just get home, and it’s going to seem for all the world like everybody else is just in my way. And who are all these people in my way? And look at how repulsive most of them are, and how stupid and cow-like and dead-eyed and nonhuman they seem in the checkout line, or at how annoying and rude it is that people are talking loudly on cell phones in the middle of the line. And look at how deeply and personally unfair this is. Or, of course, if I’m in a more socially conscious liberal arts form of my default setting, I can spend time in the end-of-the-day traffic being disgusted about all the huge, stupid, lane-blocking SUV’s and Hummers and V-12 pickup trucks, burning their wasteful, selfish, forty-gallon tanks of gas, and I can dwell on the fact that the patriotic or religious bumperstickers always seem to be on the biggest, most disgustingly selfish vehicles, driven by the ugliest [responding here to loud applause] (this is an example of how NOT to think, though) most disgustingly selfish vehicles, driven by the ugliest, most inconsiderate and aggressive drivers. And I can think about how our children’s children will despise us for wasting all the future’s fuel, and probably screwing up the climate, and how spoiled and stupid and selfish and disgusting we all are, and how modern consumer society just sucks, and so forth and so on. You get the idea. If I choose to think this way in a store and on the freeway, fine. Lots of us do. Except thinking this way tends to be so easy and automatic that it doesn’t have to be a choice. It is my natural default setting. It’s the automatic way that I experience the boring, frustrating, crowded parts of adult life when I’m operating on the automatic, unconscious belief that I am the center of the world, and that my immediate needs and feelings are what should determine the world’s priorities. The thing is that, of course, there are totally different ways to think about these kinds of situations. In this traffic, all these vehicles stopped and idling in my way, it’s not impossible that some of these people in SUV’s have been in horrible auto accidents in the past, and now find driving so terrifying that their therapist has all but ordered them to get a huge, heavy SUV so they can feel safe enough to drive. Or that the Hummer that just cut me off is maybe being driven by a father whose little child is hurt or sick in the seat next to him, and he’s trying to get this kid to the hospital, and he’s in a bigger, more legitimate hurry than I am: it is actually I who am in HIS way. Or I can choose to force myself to consider the likelihood that everyone else in the supermarket’s checkout line is just as bored and frustrated as I am, and that some of these people probably have harder, more tedious and painful lives than I do. Again, please don’t think that I’m giving you moral advice, or that I’m saying you are supposed to think this way, or that anyone expects you to just automatically do it. Because it’s hard. It takes will and effort, and if you are like me, some days you won’t be able to do it, or you just flat out won’t want to. But most days, if you’re aware enough to give yourself a choice, you can choose to look differently at this fat, dead-eyed, over-made-up lady who just screamed at her kid in the checkout line. Maybe she’s not usually like this. Maybe she’s been up three straight nights holding the hand of a husband who is dying of bone cancer. Or maybe this very lady is the lowwage clerk at the motor vehicle department, who just yesterday helped your spouse resolve a horrific, infuriating, red-tape problem through some small act of bureaucratic kindness. Of course, none of this is likely, but it’s also not impossible. It just depends what you what to consider. If you’re automatically sure that you know what reality is, and you are operating on your default setting, then you, like me, probably won’t consider possibilities that aren’t annoying and miserable. But if you really learn how to pay attention, then you will know there are other options. It will actually be within your power to experience a crowded, hot, slow, consumer-hell type situation as not only meaningful, but sacred, on fire with the same force that made the stars: love, fellowship, the mystical oneness of all things deep down. Not that that mystical stuff is necessarily true. The only thing that’s capital-T True is that you get to decide how you’re gonna try to see it. This, I submit, is the freedom of a real education, of learning how to be well-adjusted. You get to consciously decide what has meaning and what doesn’t. You get to decide what to worship. Because here’s something else that’s weird but true: in the day-to day trenches of adult life, there is actually no such thing as atheism. There is no such thing as not worshipping. Everybody worships. The only choice we get is what to worship. And the compelling reason for maybe choosing some sort of god or spiritual-type thing to worship — be it JC or Allah, be it YHWH or the Wiccan Mother Goddess, or the Four Noble Truths, or some inviolable set of ethical principles — is that pretty much anything else you worship will eat you alive. If you worship money and things, if they are where you tap real meaning in life, then you will never have enough, never feel you have enough. It’s the truth. Worship your body and beauty and sexual allure and you will always feel ugly. And when time and age start showing, you will die a million deaths before they finally grieve you. On one level, we all know this stuff already. It’s been codified as myths, proverbs, clichés, epigrams, parables; the skeleton of every great story. The whole trick is keeping the truth up front in daily consciousness. Worship power, you will end up feeling weak and afraid, and you will need ever more power over others to numb you to your own fear. Worship your intellect, being seen as smart, you will end up feeling stupid, a fraud, always on the verge of being found out. But the insidious thing about these forms of worship is not that they’re evil or sinful, it’s that they’re unconscious. They are default settings. They’re the kind of worship you just gradually slip into, day after day, getting more and more selective about what you see and how you measure value without ever being fully aware that that’s what you’re doing. And the so-called real world will not discourage you from operating on your default settings, because the so-called real world of men and money and power hums merrily along in a pool of fear and anger and frustration and craving and worship of self. Our own present culture has harnessed these forces in ways that have yielded extraordinary wealth and comfort and personal freedom. The freedom all to be lords of our tiny skull-sized kingdoms, alone at the center of all creation. This kind of freedom has much to recommend it. But of course there are all different kinds of freedom, and the kind that is most precious you will not hear much talk about much in the great outside world of wanting and achieving and [unintelligible — sounds like “displayal”]. The really important kind of freedom involves attention and awareness and discipline, and being able truly to care about other people and to sacrifice for them over and over in myriad petty, unsexy ways every day. That is real freedom. That is being educated, and understanding how to think. The alternative is unconsciousness, the default setting, the rat race, the constant gnawing sense of having had, and lost, some infinite thing. I know that this stuff probably doesn’t sound fun and breezy or grandly inspirational the way a commencement speech is supposed to sound. What it is, as far as I can see, is the capital-T Truth, with a whole lot of rhetorical niceties stripped away. You are, of course, free to think of it whatever you wish. But please don’t just dismiss it as just some fingerwagging Dr. Laura sermon. None of this stuff is really about morality or religion or dogma or big fancy questions of life after death. The capital-T Truth is about life BEFORE death. It is about the real value of a real education, which has almost nothing to do with knowledge, and everything to do with simple awareness; awareness of what is so real and essential, so hidden in plain sight all around us, all the time, that we have to keep reminding ourselves over and over: “This is water.” “This is water.” It is unimaginably hard to do this, to stay conscious and alive in the adult world day in and day out. Which means yet another grand cliché turns out to be true: your education really IS the job of a lifetime. And it commences: now. I wish you way more than luck.



late 1830s some clever clogs built the first “computer”…this mechanical genie was called “the analytical engine”… actually, it was a real working product and not a genie, in other words: around 1830s the manKind reached out to sky, unleashing chains and exploring new levels of possibilities using science and arts to help out the mass, scientists started a series of visions which later landed in our world in different names such as smart machines, google and blockchain money and DApps. hold on one second please as the story of the civilization continues…more than a decade after the genie, around early 1850s another clever clogs, a Real clever one this time, on the other half of the globe was secretly and persistently designing something else, something bigger..something meaningful….holding its value within…. he was building a concept, just a concept, but if this concept works as planned, it might lift our galaxy out of its eternal misery, he simply but brilliantly believed in the future of the customized solutions for his clients, that was the birth of the KYC -know your customer- technologies, unbelievable, ha!? the 18th century?? WOW.Wow and Wow, humanity & science seem to be chasing some skyrockets’ highs in that damn 18th century, no kidding, Yesss, but how the second dude helped his clients withzzzzzz this….eeeeeh….what was it again!! ..K Y what!!…Anyways, this big….very big concept thing? ok…OK..the MD Samuel Adolphus Cartwright, a famous physician (well..maybe he wasn’t that famous..but still…) who attended the University of Pennsylvania Medical School had architected a “disease” …what!?.. Yes, a mental disease…. he provided his slaves’ owners clients with an explanatory diagnostic manual of a new brain disorder called the “drapeTOmania” or literally “THE RUNNING SLAVE SYNDROME” (what a brand!!) just in case the slaves’ owners were wondering why would a well (or poorly) fed slave even think of running away….that unsolved paradox of all times….so here you go, now the slave who’s seeking for his freedom is clinically and officially mentally disturbed……stupidAss Adolphus-the clogs- went even further in his generous creativity trend, and genuinely decided not to be so marketish/cashJunkie /labeling tycoon/stigmaShiller…. so he kindly also offered help to the slaves themselves in managing their madness to get some relief from the severe pain caused by the freedom urges and craves (P.S. managing but not a cure because there is no cure for the drapetomaniaCS, a running slave will be always a running slave. period.the manual says so….and their owners would be always the re-coming clients..KYC’s first lesson..okay??), the help he offered was cutting both of the slave’s big toes so he can’t run, it wasn’t so practical but it might work for some time till he comes out of his ass with a new remedy..anyways, that was his prescription.Well, the drapetomania marketing campaign shortly failed, didn’t live long, but remember? he was initially designing a concept……concepts and ideas do not die… and the science of designing customized mental diseases outlived and survived and walked bravely through the same evolution cycles which the computer and technology went through from the 18th century till this moment and the disease market became an unstoppable-with self developing and correcting dynamics- trillions of dollars market. the market of the customized mental diseases…. to be continued.

that’s was only the title, as the body of the article is not yet written… ..i know, i know…spelling mistakes abnormality, phrase structuring dis functionality , grammar disorders, inconsistent narration mania, distracted ideas type 4 bipolar, disassociation from facts and reality borderline kind of split personalty, mixed delusions with facts spasms…crooked humor seizures..confused content pre-frontal lobe irregularity  … i admit all these symptoms but all  these are manageable but no cure unfortunately ….Welcome to the beautiful gardens of lasegue-falretnewww - Copy  .


selling and buying markets are based on hypes/trends…a belief-no matter how far is it from truth- is transferred from one to another till unexplained mass spending waves of hysteria happen, but the question : is that even “mentally” possible?/how the hell i’m normal till someone intrigue my craziness??/shared madness?/madness of two?/ folie à plusieurs ?/mass hysteria?/ folie à deux?/lasegue-falret?/ folie à trois?/ folie à quatre?/folie en famille?/ family madness?..all of the above… i don’t own this video “madness in the fast lane” , a BBC documentary report.