I don’t charge for this newsletter and heaven knows you can listen to the Depresh Mode podcast, for free if you so choose. That’s because the whole thing is donation-driven. It’s public radio style, depending on people recognizing that to make this stuff costs money. If enough people donate, we can exist. If they don’t, the whole thing will shut down. Would you like it to keep happening? Go here, pick a level that works for you, then select DEPRESH MODE from the list of shows. And thank you.
How to get ready for our next shows
For our show coming out on Monday, you could spend the weekend watching The Vow. It’s all about the NXIVM cult and their endless classes and mind control and sex trafficking and, unexpectedly, volleyball. We have Sarah Edmonson and Nippy Ames on Depresh Mode. They are former cult members who feature prominently in the doc series.
Then for our show the following week, the first week of our MAX FUN DRIVE, you could binge up some Mountain Goats music because I’ll be talking to John Darnielle, who is the founder, singer, and historically sometimes the only member of that band. Perhaps you know his famous song of hope and this rather grim video:
Here are, I think, Austrian youths singing it well:
Then for the week after you can read this thing by S.E. Cupp about having panic attacks because the world and social media just got to be too damn much.
Then for a show in early June, you can read the complete works of David Sedaris.
U.S. military being not all that good about mental health, perhaps?
I’ve been seeing some interesting articles about mental health and the military lately. Not surprising, I guess, since PTSD is a long-standing issue in that institution, dating back as long as there has been, well, military probably.
Military.com has this about a sailor named Jatzael Alvarado Perez with diagnosed disorders:
After a couple of false starts, Perez would take the advice of a chaplain and seek help for the growing strains on his mental health, eventually receiving a diagnosis of a mood disorder. Instead of getting that help, though, he's faced repeated disciplinary actions, a positive drug test that suddenly wasn't, allegations of making it all up and, finally, confinement to the ship and a reduction in rank. Eventually, the situation drove his wife to spill everything in a post on Facebook.
The article tells of an institution that basically punished Perez for seeking help and accuses him of making up profound clinical psychological problems to get out of work. Which… To pull off a con like that, which involves destroying your life and career, is so much more difficult than mopping a deck. So of course that excuse is preposterous.
It’s not always like this:
BUT IT ALWAYS SHOULD BE!
YOUTUBE WOULDN’T LET ME EMBED THE REAL VIDEO!
THIS ONE IS PRETTY WEIRD.
If you place a chip in your head and sever your life from your work, you can get a paintball experience
Elizabeth Spiers, who I think is great, writes in the New York Times about the brilliant use of infantilization on the tv show Severance. On the show, the workers are rewarded with experiences like melon ball buffets and music dance experiences.
It’s hard not to see real-world analogues — in the table tennis and kombucha taps of Silicon Valley, and especially in the post-pandemic flurry of office happy hours and gift card giveaways, as companies try to lure white-collar workers back to offices. At the high end, a real estate data company offered employees who returned to the office a daily chance to win $10,000, a trip to Barbados or a new Tesla; more common incentives are company swag, pop-up snack stands, Covid personal protection gift bags and stress balls.
The Chinese finger traps in “Severance” are an apt metaphor for corporate perk culture. If you’re unaware of what those children’s toys are by name, you’ve probably seen them: They’re woven tubes, usually made of bamboo, and when you insert a finger into both ends and pull, the tube tightens, trapping your fingers. When you stop pulling, the hold loosens and you can remove your fingers. These traps are used as a metaphor in a certain type of acceptance therapy, conveying the idea that when you stop trying to fight a problem and simply accept it, its hold on you loosens. In “Severance,” where the finger traps are given out as rewards for the mysterious work of the Macrodata Refinement team, the meaning is clear: If you just stop questioning the corporation and struggling with your existential doubts, you will be free. In this sense, the finger traps are not just a toy; they’re a kind of corporate indoctrination.]
By the way, the title sequence of this show is not to be skipped:
This has nothing to do with mental health, it is just boats, but you might find it soothing
See! Now your mind is better! Maybe!