I suppose I brought it upon myself, but it seems to have become fashionable to poke the Panda, and not in a happy, late-night, PVC and battery-powered way.
My third award has arrived – the ‘Blog of the Year’, and it is perhaps the most ludicrous of them all. A quick run-down of the reasons this award is arse:
1) It is even more ‘spammy’ than most, in that the rules insist a link-back to the awards original blog – not your nominator, but the actual originating Blog.
2) This award has its own Facebook page. That’s right, this award is a teenage, crisp-eating, self-referencing, vacuous idiot that wants you all to be friends with it.
3) The award is called ‘Blog of the Year’. If the stupidity of having a chain-‘Blog of the Year’ award isn’t obvious to you, piss off and stop reading my blog, you’re an idiot.
4) You can earn ‘stars’ for the award. Yes, stars. This award is for people so empty and lonely they want loyalty points from their f*ing awards! If I was cynical I might think this is just a cheap way of getting multiple references to the original site – and I am – and it is.
Master Gibbs was a slimy spamming git, but he is out-done here by a devious crap-fest masquerading as a present. I could only be more annoyed if a fellow blogger had left a gift under my tree for my son, only for him to open it and discover a turd. A turd that breeds. So after a week my whole house is full of turds. Turds pouring out of windows. Turds creeping into my bed at night. Turds hiding in my sons toy-box. Turds scheming to take over the world from my shed. You get the idea… a lot of turds.
Finally, the actual rules of the award consist only of spamming. No questions, nothing remotely thought out or interesting, just a ‘refer to me’, a ‘like my Facebook’, and an ‘infect others with this drivelling dross’.
Clearly being sarcastic has not been enough to dissuade people, so I have a new plan. Assassination.
I am adding an AWARD WARNING page, so that in future no-one can claim not to have seen it coming if I am nominated. Then, in response to awards I shall rant grumpily about my nominator in an ungrateful squirt of meanness!
I am nothing if not a deep well of compassion, so I shall be only mean and not cruel to rabbit holes, who nominated me. She was unaware of my new regime. Be warned, I will not be so kind next time.
WARNING THE REST OF THIS POST IS DEEPLY INSENSITIVE
It’s really all based on my experience of depression and kind of true.
Just deeply insensitive.
Rabbit holes blog is basically her diary of depression, written not for us, but for her (as her about page will testify). But really?
If the truth were that this blog was only for rabbit, then it wouldn’t exist, it would be a private blog, a word document or it would just be a paper diary kept at home. Rabbit, you have lied to me! You want love, don’t you… I can smell it on you.
I will let you into a secret.
So do the rest of us.
Everyone wants love, readers, recognition. No-one writes a blog because they want to be ignored! People who say “I don’t care about my stats” come in two forms. The first are like rich people who claim not to care about money. Take away the money and ask them again, if you can get through the veil of tears that is – wankers. Take away the hundreds of followers and likes, drain them off in a week or two, and then ask the bloggers views on stats.
The second are just too arrogant or scared to admit that they take screenshots of the days they beat their hits record, blu-tack them to the ceiling and then abuse themselves in a frenzy of joy and affirmational orgasms.
Recognise it and accept it. We are all creatures built of the same needs.
Really rabbit is only like many other depressed people. She would be much happier and more interesting if she wasn’t always banging on about how miserable everything is.
To understand RH’s predicament we need only understand the following.
Being depressed is a bit like being obsessed with your diet, spending hours every day checking your own stools, poking them around the toilet bowl searching for evidence of fibre, looseness or undigested sweet-corn, and then wondering why your life stinks all the time and is so full of shit.
Depression is anger for lazy people. Instead of letting that anger fuel action – like starting a ‘crisis support’ blog, campaigning for stronger laws, engaging in local politics or just keeping it small and focussing on looking after those around you, your family, your community – depressed people waste all their energy trying to solve a depression created mainly by the effects of their trying to solve their depression.
The answer is not up your own arse, it’s out there, in the world, taking action!
The most common belief that stops depressed people doing things is that they think everyone else just does things – is somehow born with the ability to run for president, fix cars, get law-degrees or be generally happy. They are not.
The difference is that some people fail and say, oh well, I was never going to get it right first time, then try again, and again, and again. Depressed people pick up a guitar for the first time, play one wrong note and then lock themselves in a wardrobe for six-months crying about how they’re not Jimmy Hendrix and may as well die.
We all have fear. Fear cannot defeat you, in fact it can help you prepare properly. Fear does not so much win as you surrender. Stop it. Get up, go out and screw things up. Then go out again, screw up again and accept that you screw up, just like we all screw up, but that this doesn’t make you a screw up. Only living life never doing anything because you’re afraid of screwing up makes you a screw up.
Trust me. I won the best blog of 2012, like thousands of others, so I must be right.
So endeth the lesson 😈