... has bad PhotoShop artists.
Now I have something to laugh about.
http://photoshopdisasters.blogspot.com/2008/05/daily-fail-what-is-your-major.html
May 30, 2008
May 29, 2008
Another Post on "Emo Cult Suicide"
The two previous posts:
http://thesuicidelist.blogspot.com/2008/05/ridiculous-to-say-least.html
http://thesuicidelist.blogspot.com/2008/05/mcr-thing-is-still-bugging-me.html
It's crazy out there. Guess I'm a bit slow on the uptake, but then again I had previously never heard of the Daily Mail, which recently published an article similar to those already online, with the same shoddy research- it claims that The Black Parade is My Chemical Romance's (MCR)'s first single, capitalizes emo, etc.
I'm assuming the Daily Mail is a more widely circulated publication than other places variations of the article have appeared, as two weeks ago when I searched for Hannah Bond on YouTube all that came up were the two videos I posted links to and some random James Bond things. Go there today, and dozens of videos posted by outraged fans appear. Some are organizing protests against the Daily Mail; one calls for MCR fans to rally outside the Daily Mail offices on May 31. Here is a video I think covers the topic especially well: (WARNING: People Typing Like This)
It's sort of amazing, really, but I'm also slightly disturbed. It seems that some people are more concerned with the band's image than the fact that Hannah Bond died. I'm not saying that they don't care, far from it, but while MCR is now urging depressed/suicidal teens to seek help (apparently the message they always wanted to convey was that it is OK to be a little screwy; so is everyone), the fans don't seem to be doing a lot of the same. If I'm wrong here, please inform me, or maybe I'm just weird about it
.
Like I've said, it's just so stupid they're blaming MCR- if Hannah wasn't a fan, it would never have come up. Eva was a massive Green Day fanatic, and I don't see anyone blaming them.
I understand that Mr. and Mrs. Bond want to hold someone responsible; I blamed myself for Eva's death, it's a perfectly normal thing to do, but please, these people get paid for this kind of crap press and journalism? That's what disgusts me more than anything.
For a compilation of scans all press releases concerning MCR: http://theydrewblood.blogspot.com/
May 19, 2008
At what point is it OK?
A few months ago I read Stewards of the Flame by the fabulous author Sylvia Engdahl.
The planet in the book, Undine, is ruled by a medical regime, in which death is viewed as the worst thing that could possibly happen to a person. This goes to the extent that after someone would be considered dead in this world, the blood is kept flowing through the heart and air through the lungs. Everyone is kept in a vegetative state forever. They call it immortality.
As an example, if someone is with you and there was an accident, and you didn't call the medics in time to save your companion, you are guilty of murder. Because no one is allowed to die, you would be put into a stasis vault fully functional. Free-thinking is considered a mental illness, and all conception is carefully controlled: undesirable genes, such as shortness or risk of obesity, are thrown out of the pool, along with "diseases" such as autism.
Understandably, many people in the novel wish to escape this fate.
The scariest thing about it is that we can see some of this going on in our own culture already. Everybody has a therepist; and aging people are kept alive pretty much just for the sake of being alive- they're no longer who they were. I hope that I will never be like that; I'd rather just die.
So if suicide is wrong in the uttermost sense, why is the situation described above so repulsive? If the technology was available, why shouldn't people use it?
I guess the bottom line is: if someone really sees nothing more in life, why should we convince her to live?
Why do we feel tremendous sadness for the girl who committed suicide in her early teens and not for the 104-year-old whose son pulled the cord? If that 104-year-old asked to be put to sleep when she couldn't remember her son's name anymore, should we have abided her wishes? But isn't that also a form of suicide?
(My grandmother died when I was three and a half. The only thing I remember about her was that she kept thinking I was her sister who had been dead for thirty years. I was more than a little creeped out. My mom says that my grandmother would've hated for me to only remember her that way and had my grandmother been able to see herself, she'd have hated that too. Just couldn't figure out how to work this in to the rest of the post.)
The planet in the book, Undine, is ruled by a medical regime, in which death is viewed as the worst thing that could possibly happen to a person. This goes to the extent that after someone would be considered dead in this world, the blood is kept flowing through the heart and air through the lungs. Everyone is kept in a vegetative state forever. They call it immortality.
As an example, if someone is with you and there was an accident, and you didn't call the medics in time to save your companion, you are guilty of murder. Because no one is allowed to die, you would be put into a stasis vault fully functional. Free-thinking is considered a mental illness, and all conception is carefully controlled: undesirable genes, such as shortness or risk of obesity, are thrown out of the pool, along with "diseases" such as autism.
Understandably, many people in the novel wish to escape this fate.
The scariest thing about it is that we can see some of this going on in our own culture already. Everybody has a therepist; and aging people are kept alive pretty much just for the sake of being alive- they're no longer who they were. I hope that I will never be like that; I'd rather just die.
So if suicide is wrong in the uttermost sense, why is the situation described above so repulsive? If the technology was available, why shouldn't people use it?
I guess the bottom line is: if someone really sees nothing more in life, why should we convince her to live?
Why do we feel tremendous sadness for the girl who committed suicide in her early teens and not for the 104-year-old whose son pulled the cord? If that 104-year-old asked to be put to sleep when she couldn't remember her son's name anymore, should we have abided her wishes? But isn't that also a form of suicide?
(My grandmother died when I was three and a half. The only thing I remember about her was that she kept thinking I was her sister who had been dead for thirty years. I was more than a little creeped out. My mom says that my grandmother would've hated for me to only remember her that way and had my grandmother been able to see herself, she'd have hated that too. Just couldn't figure out how to work this in to the rest of the post.)
May 15, 2008
Midnight Rant
Important note: This was written sometime in November. My current feelings are not necessarily still as follows (and yes, I know the POV in this one is hard to follow.)
But as bad as the days are, the nights are usually worse.
It's so quiet, a covering of glass I am afraid to break. There is nothing to distract me, and I do my best thinking in the hours between midnight and 4 AM. But that's just it, really: during the day when I can distract myself by going about what most call "life," but, when the night descends, I'm left alone to dwell with what I fear the most- myself.
Yes, I'm afraid to let myself THINK. I'm afraid to let myself remember. Only then do I truly still want to die. Reflection brings back nothing but horror.
[Eva]... oh, [Eva]! You're only one person in a world of billions, I know, but yet you were my life, and then destroyed it. Whatever happened to the future?
No... the thought is too horrible to stray outside my mind. But I know that unless I somehow let it out it will plague me for endless nights. I must... but I can't. It'd be a disgrace to her memory!
Calm yourself, Mariah. Yes, my heart is thumping wildly.
[Eva,] I'm so sorry to say it, but perhaps it was for my better that you left? See, horrible, isn't it? But really, in the result of your absence, I have learned so much and met so many amazing people never would've otherwise.
No, Mariah! You mustn't think it was worth it! Think about what else you did too!
Horrid nights. Nights of terror and pain. It's a trade-off, I guess. I don't mean to put down the wonderful friends I have now, but this is [EVA] here. [Eva] and Mariah, best friends forever. I miss those long-ago days. though in reality it's been a mere fifteen months.
I never would've been able to see myself like this. Not only without her, but so broken...
May 14, 2008
The MCR thing is still bugging me.
Links to two YouTube videos put up by Hannah's friends.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rCUy9CkZhig
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XeCbUqzmP3U
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rCUy9CkZhig
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XeCbUqzmP3U
May 8, 2008
Ridiculous (to say the least)
An article about how a 13-year-old hung herself and how it's all My Chemical Romance's fault (!):
http://www.thisislondon.co.uk/news/article-23482961-details/Girl,+13,+hangs+herself+after+becoming+obsessed+with+Emo+
And just as ridiculous, the comments on this LiveJournal page featuring the article:
http://community.livejournal.com/ohnotheydidnt/23252087.html
I would like to know who wrote the article- it's laden with stereotypes, generalizations, and rationalizations about the girl's suicide.
Not everyone who listens to MCR is depressed or commits suicide- many of their songs are top hits, and some actually contain what I would consider anti-suicide lyrics. As someone in the LJ comments points out, it's like blaming Columbine on Marilyn Mason. I personally am more likely to believe that a person's mindset influences their music choices, not the other way around.
I guess I shouldn't be surprised by some of the LJ comments, but somehow people who think everyone who is a little different than them should die never fail to amaze me.
http://www.thisislondon.co.uk/news/article-23482961-details/Girl,+13,+hangs+herself+after+becoming+obsessed+with+Emo+
And just as ridiculous, the comments on this LiveJournal page featuring the article:
http://community.livejournal.com/ohnotheydidnt/23252087.html
I would like to know who wrote the article- it's laden with stereotypes, generalizations, and rationalizations about the girl's suicide.
Not everyone who listens to MCR is depressed or commits suicide- many of their songs are top hits, and some actually contain what I would consider anti-suicide lyrics. As someone in the LJ comments points out, it's like blaming Columbine on Marilyn Mason. I personally am more likely to believe that a person's mindset influences their music choices, not the other way around.
I guess I shouldn't be surprised by some of the LJ comments, but somehow people who think everyone who is a little different than them should die never fail to amaze me.
May 7, 2008
And suddenly I remember...
Eva and I are six years old. I am sleeping over at her house for the night, not for the first time, and certainly not the last. It is summer and a warm breeze blows through the open window, making the purple curtains ripple like something liquid.
11:00 PM- late for us then, seemingly the middle of the night. Having exhausted Eva and my supply of Disney videos, we share the remaining cold popcorn by the light of a single small flashlight. We don't feel the need for chatter in this quiet companionship.
"Mariah, am I your best friend?"
Eva's question catches me slightly off guard. Shoving more popcorn into my mouth, I reply as my six-year-old self would. "Of course."
"Are you sure?" Eva's hazel eyes seem to glow in the dim light.
"Yeah. I mean, we've been best friends for, like, FOREVER."
"Well, I thought maybe you weren't anymore 'cause Nicole said-"
I interrupt. "She's mean and snooty. I don't like her."
We continue our snacking in silence, until Eva breaks it again. "Mariah, will you promise to be my best friend forever and always?"
I avoid her gaze. "I thought we already were."
"Promise. To make it for real."
I do and mean it with utter sincerity. She does, too.
"Eva?"
"What?"
"Does this mean you will never break it?"
"Yes."
"No matter what?"
"Cross my heart and hope to die and stew and fry."
"Good."
11:00 PM- late for us then, seemingly the middle of the night. Having exhausted Eva and my supply of Disney videos, we share the remaining cold popcorn by the light of a single small flashlight. We don't feel the need for chatter in this quiet companionship.
"Mariah, am I your best friend?"
Eva's question catches me slightly off guard. Shoving more popcorn into my mouth, I reply as my six-year-old self would. "Of course."
"Are you sure?" Eva's hazel eyes seem to glow in the dim light.
"Yeah. I mean, we've been best friends for, like, FOREVER."
"Well, I thought maybe you weren't anymore 'cause Nicole said-"
I interrupt. "She's mean and snooty. I don't like her."
We continue our snacking in silence, until Eva breaks it again. "Mariah, will you promise to be my best friend forever and always?"
I avoid her gaze. "I thought we already were."
"Promise. To make it for real."
I do and mean it with utter sincerity. She does, too.
"Eva?"
"What?"
"Does this mean you will never break it?"
"Yes."
"No matter what?"
"Cross my heart and hope to die and stew and fry."
"Good."
May 5, 2008
Suicide fiction
Well, it was pretty obvious (to me anyway) that this was an anti-suicide campaign from the start, but all and all they have some good things to say (and some things wrong).
Video about the project:
Link to the blog:
http://tania.movielol.org/
Video about the project:
Link to the blog:
http://tania.movielol.org/
Shout It Out
She glimpsed them and asked me
What they were from.
I said, "Oh, nothing,"
The usual reply.
She insisted.
I said they were an accident-
Only half a lie.
She didn't seem convinced,
But she let the matter drop.
She doesn't know how I used to bleed,
And how now I've stopped.
I don't know why I hide the scars,
Or what is really the truth.
Why do I deny what happened?
It's not as if the slices in flesh
Are anything all that new.
I know that she wouldn't care,
And even if she did,
She still should know.
I'm sorry, Carey, I can't say
What occurred after [Eva] was dead.
I'm sorry these pale white scars
Bind me down like heavy chains.
Why can I only explain SI
In dry, factual terms?
Why do I use this disguise that drains
So much from me
And so much from you?
I wish I could just shout it out.
What they were from.
I said, "Oh, nothing,"
The usual reply.
She insisted.
I said they were an accident-
Only half a lie.
She didn't seem convinced,
But she let the matter drop.
She doesn't know how I used to bleed,
And how now I've stopped.
I don't know why I hide the scars,
Or what is really the truth.
Why do I deny what happened?
It's not as if the slices in flesh
Are anything all that new.
I know that she wouldn't care,
And even if she did,
She still should know.
I'm sorry, Carey, I can't say
What occurred after [Eva] was dead.
I'm sorry these pale white scars
Bind me down like heavy chains.
Why can I only explain SI
In dry, factual terms?
Why do I use this disguise that drains
So much from me
And so much from you?
I wish I could just shout it out.
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