Hack the Gibson
Do not make me assume my ultimate form!
CHIMPANZEE by Yago Partal
for ZOO PORTRAITS
Can’t wait for Return of the Rise of the Planet of the Apes, coming 2016!!!!1111
Just tried calling the doctor’s office for the GB:
"Yes, we have here a note that says a follow up in a month, and to hear from mom (Brenda) in two weeks."
"Yes, its been two weeks, that’s why I’m giving you a call."
"And you are?"
"Jacen, the dad."
"Hmm, don’t have you in here."
Well the balut kid has grown up, now has a deeper voice, and eats other wierd asian food, like fried gluten, from a can.
This kids face.
Film Meme [ 2/5 ] Films that surprised you
→ Memento (2000) “We all lie to ourselves to be happy.”
The X-Files Files.
When it comes to brothers or sisters you grow up with, for some reason you are always connected. Even if you are terrible to each other, then or now or both, somehow you always come back around full circle.
There is something about the obligation of blood, that you are never truly at peace until things are right again. We didn’t live the same lives, but we’ve come from the same place, so somehow we should understand each other god dammit! We should be on the same side, same team, why are we arguing?
I’m sure there are countless psychological explanations that would tell that as siblings, we fight for our parents attention, for their love. We pulled hair to get there first, stomping around when we didn’t win, and screaming to strike fear into the heart of our parents, painting us as the victim first. This was who got to watch what in the VCR, this was who got to ride in the front of the shopping cart, this was who won the tag race, this was war.
Now, while while you think as adults, we’ve matured. We can deal with conflict resolution by sitting down and talking about this. We can articulate and explain our feelings rationally and calmly. Unfortunately, this is still about who got more Ice Cream, only now we kick and scream with text messages and Facebook. The family gets split, and it always turns into this Us against Them scenario.
Some days, I get so mad about all of this silly horseshit and say, “DONE! I officially DON’T care anymore!” And sometimes I can even convince myself that I am past it. That works for a few days. Other times, a few weeks. But guilt, like a bad friend, takes a lot out of you, and not all at once, it slowly sucks away till your nothing but bones now.
What really eats at me is seeing my older relatives deal with regret as family passes away. Years of not speaking to each other, the ugliest sense of entitlement to “stuff” when people pass, the complete lack of compassion. I’ve seen it a few times now, and my brothers and sister, we promised each other that would be us. We swore we would never turn into that. But this is exactly how it starts.
Being a parent sometimes can feel like a constant anxiety attack. At least, most honest people who are parents that even remotely care about their kids will be able to admit it. There is this ever shifting balance between asking yourself: Why is this kid so fkn crazy? And then in return wondering, am I actually the reason this kid is crazy? The shifting balance of blame is really what causes the anxiety.
We all want our kids to be “normal,” which is about as subjective as you can get. This consists of constantly viewing other 80% of other kids as calm little humans, sipping tea, setting the cup down gently on saucer, and politely asking their parents in an english accent if they may enjoy the company of other small humans. Then you turn to your kid running and pushing, throwing some object you pray isn’t expensive or sharp, and then roaring manically into the sky (although this habit is traditionally done indoors) and you let out a big sigh Then there is 10% of kids you know their parents don’t give a damn, so it makes sense. The final 10% or so seem to literally be the spawn of satan, whose parents end up having to carry the kids out of whatever public place like a potato sack while they curse or scream, and you are just flat out glad that’s not your kid… today at least.
The other side of the coin is your parenting, you go to bed praying, “Please god, do not let me fuck this kid up. You wonder if you are playing with them enough, if you are putting them in the right school, if you are loosing your cool too much, if you are laughing too much when they throw a fit, if you are reading to them enough. if you are feeding them the right food even though they see you making a grilled cheese the equivalent to being an Iron Chef. Or maybe they just inherited your shitty genes, and will grow up as annoying and snarky, purposefully dropping out of college while high fiving your own parents, just so they can say, “I told you so.”
So last week we had to get our kid evaluated for ADHD medication. This is literally after a couple years of putting this off, feeling like any kid in the wrong light can come across as impulsive and short attention spanned to school work. All those anxieties, I’ve recapped them in my head about 117x trying to figure out where either the kid or myself went wrong. I feel that a school can easily get wrapped up in a trouble kid needing a certain “cocktail” which will cause them to be easy going in the classroom and learn with the rest of the bunch. I tried as many conservatives methods and parenting styles and school meetings and team sports as I could think of for the last two years to try to get this kid back on track. To get him to expel whatever demon possessed him, or to wear him down of all that energy to get him to focus in class or at home.
The final breaking point was when our kid starting to see himself as a “the bad kid.” That he wants to be good, he wants to have friends, and he wants to make us proud, but he just can’t. These were his words to us, and to several other people. And what parent wouldn’t do whatever in their power to make their own child believe in themselves. So onward we explore.