Monthly Archives: October 2024

Daily Tear Therapy


I try to cry daily.

Sometimes it’s as simple as thinking of Sam. Other times, I need a little more: Jack realizing he’s dead along with his father at the end of Lost (oh yeah, spoiler), or Harold and Maude saying their last goodbyes. Or maybe it’s a song from my “Break My Heart” playlist, which is 29 hours of music and growing.

I think crying regularly is important—at least as often and as hard as I laugh.

That part’s easy, though. You’ve got The Simpsons on demand for instant laughs.

But here’s the real point: don’t be afraid of feeling shitty. In the bland, smiley Alphaverse, I know that’s frowned upon, but maybe that’s why they’re so fucked up.

We’ve built a world that treats sadness like a flaw. If the Alphaverse crew had their way, they’d probably patch it out of the human condition in the next software update.

But those tears? They aren’t bugs in the system—they’re proof it’s working.

Each time I press play on that 29-hour playlist, I’m making the choice to feel it all. Every song unlocks a different memory, a new room in the heart. I visit all regularly. A memory opens each door, a memory shuts it the same way.

You can’t selectively numb emotions. Try to block out sadness, and joy has a harder time getting through. Shut down the tears, and you’ll eventually forget how to laugh from your gut.

There’s also science behind this. Crying isn’t just about emotional release—it’s a physical process that benefits your body. When you cry emotional tears, your body releases stress hormones like cortisol. Studies have shown that crying can lower heart rate, blood pressure, and even promote better sleep .

Emotional tears are chemically different from the ones you shed cutting onions; they contain more protein, which helps remove toxins from your system . It’s like a mini detox, triggered by your emotions.

Crying can stimulate the release of endorphins—your body’s natural painkillers. That’s why you often feel calmer, even relieved, after a good cry.

So yeah, bring on the tearjerkers. Give me the playlist that cuts deep. Let me think about Sam until the tears come. Because in a world that’s afraid to feel anything too deeply, maybe crying daily isn’t just therapeutic—it’s resigned rebellion.

When Harold says goodbye to Maude, when Jack’s face crumples with realization, when the perfect song hits just right—that’s when I know I’m still human. Still feeling. And that’s the point of all art.

The New Calendar: Summer And Not-Summer


Remember when we used to have four seasons? Those quaint three-month chunks that gave rhythm to our year, each with its distinct personality and purpose?

Welcome to the new normal: Summer and Not-Summer. That’s it. That’s the year.

Summer now stretches its sweaty fingers deep into spring and fall, transforming what was once a gentle progression into a binary switch.

One day you’re hunting for your sandals, the next you’re desperately fishing out your winter coat from the back of the closet. Spring and fall – the transitional seasons – have become memories.

Remember spring? That poetic season of renewal and cherry blossoms? Now it’s more like a brief intermission between the last snow and the first 90-degree day. The daffodils barely have time to stretch their yellow heads before they’re wilting in an unseasonable heat wave.

Fall hasn’t fared much better. What used to be a glorious parade of autumn colors has become a rushed performance. The leaves barely change in Cali anyway; now they’re blown off the trees by either an early winter blast or a late summer scorcher.

Not-Summer – that amalgamation of what used to be winter, with bits of spring and fall mixed in – is like a moody teenager. One day it’s throwing a polar vortex tantrum, the next it’s surprisingly mild and agreeable. It’s as if winter can’t quite commit to being winter anymore.

This seasonal simplification has turned weather small talk – that great lubricant of human interaction – into an even more absurd exercise. “Hot enough for you?” has become less of a question and more of a year-round greeting from July through October. Weather apps have become less useful for planning and more like reality shows we check compulsively to see what plot twist Mother Nature has in store for us next.

Our closets have become year-round storage units for clothes of all seasons because who knows when you’ll need that parka or those shorts? The old advice to dress in layers has taken on new meaning when you might need all four seasons’ worth of clothing in a single week.

Perhaps this is nature’s way of simplifying things for our overwhelmed modern lives. Who has time for four seasons anyway? In an age of binary choices – left or right, yes or no, like or dislike – maybe it’s fitting that our years have been reduced to a simple toggle between Summer and Not-Summer.

But for those of us who grew up with the rhythm of four distinct seasons, there’s something bittersweet about this simplification. It’s like watching a complex symphony being reduced to a two-note song.

In the end, maybe we should embrace this new binary reality. After all, it makes packing for trips easier – just bring everything. And hey, at least we’ve still got two seasons. Give it a few more years, and we might just end up with one long season called Weather.

Why Journalism Is Dying

The LA Times’ refusal to endorse a candidate in the 2024 presidential election isn’t just weak—it’s a disgrace to journalism.

In a moment when the country faces existential threats to democracy, the Times has decided to cower behind neutrality.

It’s not about journalistic integrity; it’s about gutless hedging. This isn’t an era for fence-sitting—it’s a battleground for the future of the nation, and the Times chose to duck for cover.

That’s not a public service, it’s a dereliction of duty.

By refusing to make a stand — any stand, in any direction — the paper has left its readers stranded at a time when clarity and leadership are essential.

Pretending that both sides deserve equal treatment, or worse, that choosing one is somehow beneath them, reeks of cowardice.

They’ve dodged their responsibility under the flimsy pretense of fairness, but fairness doesn’t mean pretending the stakes aren’t real. This is a cop-out, pure and simple.

In a landscape where misinformation is rampant and polarization is deepening, a major newspaper’s job is to take a stand, not hide behind neutrality.

The Times’ decision isn’t noble—it’s pathetic, and it’s a stain on their reputation.

Journalism is about telling the truth and taking positions when the facts demand it. They demand it. This election demands it. But the LA Times failed.

They didn’t show integrity by staying silent—they showed they’re spineless. Cancel your subscription.