Robin Williams, 1951-2014

It's always a hard road to tread,
as demons tear your mind to shreds.
It's tough to decide
that ending your life
is the best way to escape your head.

Robin Williams, an extraordinarily prolific, extremely talented, occasionally funny actor, listened to his demons. He was found dead of an apparent suicide at his home in California.

I understand what he was fighting. On July 22nd, 2014, I attempted to take my own life. I can now say that I am glad it was an unsuccessful attempt, but the day after I was very angry that I was not dead. It was the darkest time in my life.

Mental illness is something that can affect anyone. It doesn't matter how rich or famous or intelligent or successful or pious you are. It treats people the same way as cancer or any other illness. It's just as insidious and just as deadly, and needs to be treated just as importantly.

My heart aches for his family. I can see now how my suicide would have affected my family, far beyond me just not being there. It is truly sad that he did not get all the help he needed.

The Return of the Limerick: Beginnings

I started this site for my vanity
(my ego's as big as a manatee)
I've spent so much time
stuck deep in my mind
I might have to rhyme for my sanity

As both of my readers have left for greener, less limerickier pastures, I start anew. It's been a very long time since my last limerick, and I have been through a lot in the past year plus.

I will not bore any newcomers with details this post, but they will be forthcoming as I renew the limericky goodness that is the nougaty center of SkepticaLimerick

Dreaming

Last night I had a bizarre dream.
I woke up scared, ready to scream.
The country went crazy
with religionarys
and we ended up refugees.

Science fiction author Robert Heinlein, in some of his works, described what he called the Crazy Years. These years came after Americans elected a virtual theocracy into power, which led to all sorts of problems for people who did not believe exactly as they did. These beliefs were mostly of the evangelical sort, the likes of which are taught in most mega-churches these days.

In my dream, these terrors actually came to pass. It got to the point where I had to take my family to England as political refugees. The set us up with charming accommodations built out of an old dock storage shed.

Luckily, nothing like that would ever happen in real life.

Right?

Reflections

I look at that guy in the mirror.
He looks scared. Could it be fear? Or
can he just not see
what tomorrow will bring?
I wish that I could see him clearer.

Head Games.

There are things that all people dread.
For me? Getting stuck in my head.
I so hate this pain.
It drives me insane.
I don't want to get out of bed.

I have, again, been fighting against depression. I know that the 40mg Citalopram is working for me, but the constant pain is working against me. It's impossible for me to ignore, or even put at the back of my mind for even a short time.

I am, however, going to be back to regular limericks. I have realized that creating these for both of you helps keep me sane.

Being Mental And Healthy

Some problems are those you can't see
and you wish that you could just flee.
You fight with the fact
your brain fights you back
and wonder if you'll ever be free.


I have, for a while now, been fighting depression. It is a vicious circle. Chronic pain can cause depression, and depression can cause or exacerbate chronic pain. My foot has been hurting me for years now, to the point that, at times, walking is a challenge. The pain has caused me some occasional "downs", but it finally caught up with me over the summer. As I described it to my doctor, when I finally was able to afford to see one (financial difficulties is another reason for my depression), I was worried but not yet scared. I could, in my mind, feel what each of the knives in our house would feel like as it ripped through my arm (down the road, not across the street). But I have never held a knife to myself in order to cause damage. It was all in my head.

Your head can do funny things to you. We are not in the best position, financially, but I have a wife whom I love, and who loves me very much. I have two children who give me endless joy. That doesn't matter when you have a mental health issue.

As I said, I was finally able to talk to someone about my problems. My doctor prescribed 20mg Citalopram nearly 2 months ago. It has taken a while, but I feel that the medication might finally be working and I might have finally turned a corner. Of course it is still early in my treatment and I have a long road ahead of me, but, for the first time in a while, I feel that I might come out the other side of this alright.

Limericks should be returning on a regular schedule shortly.

Thanks to JT Eberhard. His Skepticon IV talk is something everyone should see.

Why I Am An Atheist

The beauty of life that we see
from an ant to the tallest tree
is explained by science.
There's no reliance
on anything, supernaturally.

I am an atheist because
I looked at religion and saw
that every belief
offers no relief
and each one is fatally flawed.

If we can let religions go
only then can we all know:
We're here together
in this grand adventure
and only as one can we grow.

There is a grandeur to this view
Darwin once said. It's still true.
Beautiful endless forms
have become transformed.
Open your mind, you'll see it too.

PZ Myers has put out a call for submissions of short essays on "Why I Am An Atheist". I prefer my essays in limerick form.

One Hundredth Limerick

Thank you for all of your clicks
and for putting up with my shtick.
A century done
with lots more to come
I'm at one hundred limericks!

Thank you for taking the time
to visit this li'l blog of mine.
Both of my readers
made me the leader
of skeptical lim'ricks online.

I truly am grateful for each of you that reads my limericks.

A Fart In A Hurricane

Lim’ricks don’t fall from a tree
I’ve been at this for a year (or three).
There’s naught good to say
for toiling away
in anonymous obscurity.

I posted this limerick on Camels with Hammers, a philosophy site with Freethought Blogs, along with this post:

I once harbored delusions that skeptical limericks would make it possible for my voice to be heard, to meekly rise above the din of thousands of others whose opinions echoed mine. I still have a voice, and have (or, had) a unique way of expressing myself. Alas, life got in the way, and I stopped producing limericks for a time. Now Cuttlefish has been doing his Headline Muse, and I fear that I will be seen as a copycat, attempting to cash in on the work that he has done.

I will keep doing what I have been, however, and be grateful for those readers I have.

But what is a (not-so) humble limerickist to do?

I still harbor a delusion that in the "Phase III" of PZ Myers' plan for atheist world domination, that I will soon get an email from Ed Brayton, benevolent overlord of FtB, asking me to join the fold. I quickly push those notions aside because, as overwhelmingly grateful as I am for the 50 pagehits I get a day, I am just a fart in the hurricane that is Freethought Blogs.

How Can You Make Ends Meet When You Can't See Them?

You feel like you have little power
as you look up at their gilded tower.
You let slip a sigh
and try to get by:
Surviving on nine bucks an hour.

You try hard to make both ends meet.
You can't? Then you're out on the street.
So force on a grin
and go out again
and don't let the world know you're beat.

Minimum wage has been getting a lot of press recently, because of Dick Perry's claims that he created sooo many jobs in Texas, without regard to the pay. We've had to make some of these same choices, even recently, and it really sucks to have to choose between a week's meals or a doctor's appointment. Both parents working doesn't get much better, because the cost of childcare quickly eats up any additional income.

Life is difficult, and we don't need politicians making it harder for those of us with little means.

Now you can play a little game, and see what it's like.

Hat tip

A Reason To Get Out Of Bed In The Morning

I always yearn for you aw'fly
I'm glad I can get you law'fly
You make every day
great in its own way.
Thanks for being special, coffee


Inspiration

On The Occasion Of My Wife's Birth

Your eyes are like the finest art.
I hope that we never will part.
I just want to say:
Happiest Birthday!
I love you with all of my heart.

What's Worse Than Being Poor? Jail.

More news that you should abhor:
Now they can lock up the poor?
Lost your job? Too bad.
So sorry, so sad.
Just casualties of the class war.

If you just can't find a way
to support, you'll really pay
Are these laws at all
constitutional?
Or is it more we versus they.

I wish that these judges could see
how they're causing misery.
But that's the mistake
you get when you take
the civil from civility.

Judges can order parents to serve time in jail for non-payment of child support. They can order jail time without regard to the parent's ability to pay. If a parent has been paying dutifully for years, loses a job, then cannot keep up payments, a judge can order that parent to serve a sentence. Without a trial, and even without legal representation.

This is an issue that hits home for me. My parents divorced when I was 8. As far as I know, my mother received little to no support from my father, even though he was ordered to pay. That made things more difficult for us growing up, but we survived. I don't know his situation and, frankly, I don't care. I do know that it would have made any payments impossible had he been jailed for it.

If these parents have recently become unemployed because of the shitty economy, how likely is it that they will find job searching easier after serving jail time? Even if they are the more qualified candidate, employers will hire someone who has not served in jail over them.

Child support is an extremely complex issue, and there are no simple answers. Putting a parent in jail for inability to pay should never be an answer, though.

The Smallest Things Bring The Biggest Down

My head feels unusually thick.
Like brains are replaced by a brick.
My muscles all ache.
I'm barely awake.
Crap, how I hate being sick.

Kids brought a bug home from school. At least I have football.

Knitting

Each month, the first Sunday's exciting.
An event that is oh so delighting.
I spend time with my chicks
who show me new tricks,
and have always been very inviting.

The first Sunday of every month has become a special time for me. Because of medical issues, I don't have many opportunities to do much socializing. When I leave the house, it is for an appointment or to go to the store. But the first Sunday, I get to knit. It might not sound like much, but I really enjoy the Central Ohioans for Rational Inquiry Skeptical Crochet and Knitting Circle.

Thanks, ladies, for making this guy feel welcome.

On Circles and Space.

30 years ago, living in Hawaii,  my father woke me up at an hour I did not realize existed at that tender age. A momentous thing was about to happen, a thing which has stuck with me these long, long years. In the morning sun, half a world away, the Space Shuttle Columbia hung on the launch pad. Today, on a gloomy Ohio morning, I sit with my own children to watch the final launch of the Space Shuttle program.

Circle of life and all that, I suppose.

An Open Letter to the Atheist Community.

To Michigan Atheists, PZ Myers, Greta Christina, Hemant Mehta, Jen McReight, JT Eberhard, Adam Lee, The Chaplain, Digital Cuttlefish, Matt Dillahunty, C.L. Hanson, Sikivu Hutchinson, Phil Ferguson, Jeff Duncan, Unknown (to me) Benefactor, and to all who have donated to Camp Quest:

THANK YOU.

Thank you for, your generosity, the giving freely of yourselves for those you do not know, perhaps will never know.

My wife, Miranda and I have been discussing sending our oldest child to Camp Quest for the past 2 years, since she was 8. Each year financial difficulties have prevented us from doing so. I had the paperwork for a campership for Camp Quest Ohio nearly completed, but we found it difficult to scrape together even the $100 deposit required. Prices increase, and wages stay the same. I don't share this for pity, but to inform of where we are right now.

A link was shared with me about 3 weeks ago. This link was a contest, for a campership to Camp Quest Michigan. The topic was "What can I do to improve the image of freethinkers/atheists in the world?". I passed this on to Charlotte, and here is what she wrote:

Birthday Limerick

Time speeds inexorably on

You blinked? Twenty years are long gone.
But the option is worse
so I'm thankful, in verse,
to wake to each morning's new dawn.

The prologue of past is complete.
New paths open up at my feet.
The road, as is said
goes ever on up ahead
with loves to hold and friends to meet.

Existential Meanderings.

I just got back from visiting my great-grandfather's grave at the Masonic Cemetery in Springfield. He died in 1989 and, although I was named after him (him - Richard Wilson, me - Richard Wilson Stage), that was the first time I had been there. I have good memories of him. There was a picture, taken when I was 8 or so, of the two of us, me in pajamas, both of us grinning like idiots.

Apart from the memories of childhood, good and otherwise, I started thinking. I remember him, but I can't say I really knew him. Grampa Wilson was born in 1899. He would have been 18 when the US joined WW 1. Did he serve? How did he get through the Great Depression? Who was he?

Then I followed that question to it's logical conclusion.

Who am I?

I am a husband to the most wonderful woman I have met. I am father to two amazing kids. But is that who I am? Do those moments in my life (marriage, births) define me? People have said that who we are is the sum of our experiences, but what if the math doesn't add up? What if I forgot to carry the one? Perhaps I should subtract π. Maybe I should subtract π a couple times.

I know almost everyone has had an existential quandary at some point in their lives, and mine isn't really any different. But if we are all indeed the sum of our experiences, how can we be sure the math adds up?

I fucking hate Tim Tebow

If you do not know who Tim Tebow is, get out from under your rock and turn on ESPN. He is the Heisman winning QB from Florida, who, if he wins the SEC championship game, will play in yet another national championship game. Huzzah for him.

Why do I fucking hate Tim Tebow?

He was recently on a missionary trip to the Philippines. That trip is bad enough in and of itself. People went for medical and dental care, yet had to sit through a religious spiel before getting treated. I consider that cruel and unusual punishment, but those people need the treatment, so any is good. But that wasn't enough for Mr. Tebow.

Deciding that he wanted to get more "hands on", he assisted doctors with circumcisions.

Think about that.

Tim Tebow, majoring in "family, youth and community sciences" (Whatever the hell that is. Science? Really?) took up a needle and thread (okay, sutures are subtly different) and sewed up freshly mutilated penises. I know that medical standards in the Philippines are more lax than here, but really?

The important point to me is the genital mutilation. If anyone tries to tell you that circumcision (male genital mutilation) is for any reason other than religious, you can feel free to safely ignore anything else they have to say.

If anyone tells you that circumcision (male genital mutilation) is different or better than the slicing off of the labia or clitoris of little girls, feel free to punch them in their throat, because it is the same thing. It is mutilating the genitals of a young child, an innocent who knows nothing but the pain.

Fuck you, Tim Tebow. I fucking hate you.




References