A Thought Regarding Fear

If you give a young child a drink and ask them to carry it across the room, there's a way to increase the chance that they'll spill it. Warn them not to spill it.

If a motorcyclist begins to lose control, there's a way to increase the chances of an accident. To focus on the thing they don't want to hit.

From Wikipedia's tiny article on the subject of target fixation:

"When individuals target fixate, they are prone to steer in the direction of their gaze, which is often the ultimate cause of a collision."

I'm surely not the first to suggest that this is a very important concept beyond physical safety. You can make your fears manifest by giving them undue focus.

Here are some examples...

Fear: becoming unattractive
Action: plastic surgery
Result: monster face

Fear: losing someone's love
Action: overbearing contact, jealousy
Result: pushing the person away

Fear: unhealthy looking skin
Action: tanning for a healthy glow
Result: weathered, unhealthy looking skin

Fear: being thought of as stupid
Action: talking on every topic instead of listening
Result: sounding like an idiot

Fear: civil unrest
Action: police militarization, domestic spying
Result: a galvanizing of civil resentment

Fear: Smurfs
Action: create a Smurfette to infiltrate and destroy them
Result: she learns what it is to be Smurfy and now there's yet another smug Smurf

The examples are everywhere, from individuals and collectives. A person who fears not being loved is a person more prone to decisions leading to heartbreak. A country that fears its neighbours is more prone to policies of isolation and antagonism.

You run a risk when fear is your motivation.

Don't let a fear of being ugly destroy your looks.

Don't let a fear of being poor squander your money.

Don't let a fear of heartbreak sour your heart.

Don't let a fear of death keep you from living.

Take care on your worries.


On a flip-side, be careful with optimism as well.

A Short Story About Getting Sick...

It was a Sunday night like any other. A friend and I imbibed some exclusive "Le vin de Datch", discussed literary theory, perhaps smoked some pot, they left, and I watched some cartoons.

The next morning I awoke with a very sore throat. It got worse through the day. And the next. On Tuesday night at 3am, despite a mighty sleep cocktail, I woke up from the pain and had difficulty breathing.

So for the first time in my 40 years I went to an emergency clinic. It's fun to do new things. They looked at me, listened to my squeaks, and felt my neck. They shrugged, then gave me steroids for the swelling and a kick out the door.

That helped. Feeling better the next day I celebrated good health with a friend by imbibing some exclusive "Le vin de Datch".

Le vin de Datch
is a special batch
if you'll allow the sentiment.
But the last of the batch
of Le vin de Datch
contained a bit of sediment.
And that's the catch
if you be a Datch
for apparently I'm fucking allergic to that shit in my own goddamn wine.

Three Muffin Jokes

I've rocked these muffin jokes for almost a decade as my go-tos. If you'd point at me and say, “tell me a joke, funny guy”, these are the gems you'd hear. I'd also note that you are rude.

But there comes a time to start your sentence with a conjunction. And there comes a time when you should retire your material. So, with mixed emotion, I publish here for my enormous readership: Datch's Three Muffin Jokes. Take them, world. They have served me well.

Well, the first one isn't mine. And the second one is just a derivative of another. But the third one.., the one no one ever laughs at and often walks away from slightly disappointed after way too much build up and explanation, is pure OD (Original Datch, as the kids say).

Now, with no further build up and explanation... ahem.

Two muffins are in an oven.
One muffin turns and says, “Sure is hot in here, huh?”
The other muffin replies, “Holy shit, a talking muffin!”

☺

A muffin walks into a bar and says to the bartender, “Hey buddy, can I have a beer?”
The bartender looks at him with a sneer and says, “We don't serve food here.”

☻

Why did the muffin cross the road?
It accidentally slipped from my fingers and rolled there. Now it's in a puddle, completely inedible, and I'm still hungry. Sometimes... life is kinda sad.

☹

The next great slur

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

First Post: The Prequel

Testing. Testing. Testing.

Not intended to be a first post. If you're dredging through the archives of what has become a brilliant collection of philosophical endeavors and breakthrough insights on the human condition then you have gone too far. This is the blog equivalent of a mic check.

Paragraph and font test ☑
Insertion of non-alphanumeric characters ✔
✌

Nice.

Added caption.

Insertion of aye-aye photo ☝

Nnneat.  Strikethrough! Highlight. Link. Colour.

"Quote."

This is a heading.

This is a subheading in which I ponder why the heading looks like that.

A minor heading.

A major crescendo. Resolution and… End post.

FIN