Brian D. Buckley

Teetotaler, noun: a person who abstains totally from intoxicating drink.

I am a teetotaler.

Not by choice, you understand. I like shots, I love wine, and I love beer even more. I like the taste, I like the effects. I think alcohol is the perfect way to make people open up at parties. I have no moral objections at all.

But alcohol – I am told – is a depressant, and being depressed already, I’m not supposed to drink. So I don’t.

It’s weird.

For one thing, it’s weird being around people who drink. Alcohol feels like one of those privileges you earn by being an adult, and it’s been snatched away somehow. Everyone else here is grown up, so why am I still a child? I know it’s not like that, but that’s how it feels sometimes.

And it’s weird because – on the rare occasions when I have ignored my better judgment and drank – I actually do feel better. So there’s that.

I suppose it’s one of those things I just need to get used to. And I am used to it, mostly. It’s just…weird.

Have you ever abstained from alcohol? What was it like for you?

Two weeks ago, I wrote: “Do something unexpected today.” That was the day I gave two weeks’ notice at my job. Yesterday was my last day.

The main reason was the depression, of course. Between the illness itself and the side effects from the medication, days at work were getting unbearable. I had to get out – and I’m extremely fortunate that Betsy is able to support me for a while until I recover. So I got out.

What now?

Besides “getting better,” I do have a lot of things planned. First on the list is math tutoring. I used to tutor calculus back in college, and I’d like to get back into it for a bit. My new site is:

FindlayMathTutor.com

What do you think?

I also plan to focus more on writing, reading, Rosetta Stone, exercise, and helping around the house. The doctors all say that structure is important when you’re depressed. I think now I have just the right amount.

And once I recover, what’s next?

You know, it’s hard to say. But I’m feeling good today.

Time is precious and all, but occasionally, you just gotta kill an hour. Here are some ideas.

1. Learn to roll a coin across your fingers.
2. Read about the most fascinating and obscure corners of the globe.
3. Start learning a foreign language.
4. Teach yourself to juggle.
5. Find out about the most interesting pages on Wikipedia.
6. Watch Helvetica on Netflix.
7. Catch up on my blog.
8. Catch up on Ben Trube’s blog.
9. Read the archives of Questionable Content, starting with the very first one.
10. Start reading Hamlet.
11. Learn about cognitive biases.
12. Practice Zen meditation (aka “zazen”).
13. Learn about common misconceptions. (Did you know that the Declaration of Independence wasn’t signed on July 4, and hydrogen peroxide doesn’t effectively disinfect cuts?)
14. Play Tetris.
15. Go through your closets and find stuff you don’t use anymore. Give it to Goodwill.
16. Learn differential calculus.
17. Browse Imgur.
18. Place a coin on your elbow and grab it with your hand (same arm). See how many coins you can do at once.
19. Write a story. Even if you don’t think you’re any good at writing.
20. Memorize your favorite poem. (Mine is “Ozymandias.”)
21. Read about Kiva, and if you like what you see, lend them $25. (I’ve done this many times and have always gotten the money back.)
22. Write a super-detailed journal entry. If you don’t have a journal, start one!
23. Make a quick run to the grocery store.
24. Draw something. Even if you don’t think you’re any good at drawing.
25. Watch some Louis C.K. (if you’re not easily offended).
26. Find and fund a worthy Kickstarter project.
27. Exercise.
28. For each letter in the alphabet, think of a word that has that letter doubled. (For instance, “butter” works for T – but it has to be twice in a row, so “potato” doesn’t count.) It’s possible for every letter except Q, X, and Y. Place names don’t count!
29. Listen to music.
30. Learn how fractals work.
31. Play with your dog. If you don’t have a dog, visit a friend who does! (If you don’t have any friends, uh…that sucks, I guess?)
32. Invent the longest palindrome you can. For instance: “Race car.” Or: “I’m a lasagna hog. Go hang a salami.”
33. Find anagrams for your name. (Now can you guess why my blog is subtitled Crude Inky Blab?)
34. Eat dinner at some restaurant you’ve never visited before.
35. Draw five shapes so that each shape touches every other shape. (Okay, fine, this one’s not possible – but you can easily spend an hour trying!)
36. Memorize the first hundred digits of pi. Hint: it’s easier if you break them up into chunks, like this.
37. Write a sonnet.
38. Send an e-mail to your future self.
39. Learn how to solve a Rubik’s Cube.
40. If there’s snow outside, make a snowman. If not, dig a hole and look for buried treasure.
41. Learn the steps to a simple dance, and practice with a partner (real or imaginary).
42. Try a new recipe.
43. See how much of the song American Pie you can remember. Ditto Hotel California.
44. Try a brand of beer you’ve never had before. If you don’t drink alcohol, try a brand of coffee you’ve never had before. If you don’t drink alcohol or coffee, make yourself a certificate that says “I have more willpower than Brian D. Buckley.”
45. Learn Dvorak.
46. Download Paint.Net (free, legal program similar to Photoshop) and learn how to use it.
47. Pick a country (like Iceland!) and learn all about it, just as if you were planning a trip there. Bonus points: travel there!
48. Explore a nearby town that you’ve driven past but never stopped at before.
49. Clean up the house a little…nah.

Got a 50th? Leave it in the comments!

I like the Doctor because he’s full of life.

He’s full of energy. Vitality. He’s a problem solver. He pokes and prods. He asks uncomfortable questions, mucks about where he’s not wanted. He never gives up.

With depression, life is the one thing you don’t have. Depression is all about giving up.

Depression means you don’t care. You can’t care. You don’t have the energy to care.

The Doctor cares. He has opinions. He changes things. Usually for the better, sometimes for the worse, but he’s always at the center of the action.

In an episode I saw recently, a girl asks, “What do monsters have nightmares about?”

“ME!” is the Doctor’s response, proud, confident, boundlessly enthusiastic. The kind of person you want to be around. The kind of person you want to be.

You feel better just being around him.

If you’re an artist of any kind – painter, musician, writer, TV show creator – and you’ve wondered if your art really matters, the answer is yes.

Art always matters. This is why.

Image Source

What have your hands built?
What towers, what pinnacles
Soar because of you?

Yesterday I decided to buy a Wii U game. I didn’t have any particular one in mind, I just wanted something new. (I ended up getting Super Mario 3D World.)

I didn’t go to Best Buy or Gamestop, two stores which specialize in electronics. I went to Meijer, which sells towels, toothpaste, kumquats, hamsters, LEGOs, and oh yeah, video games too.

Why?

Because a Best Buy purchase goes something like this:

Me: Hello, I want to buy this.
Cashier: Are you a Best Buy member?
Me: No.
Cashier: Would you like to be?
Me: No, I just want you to take my money for this purchase.
Cashier: Are you sure? You could save ten percent.
Me: No, I really just want you to take my money.
Cashier: What about –
Me: PLEASE JUST TAKE MY MONEY

(Of course, I realize it’s not the cashier’s fault, and in real life I am much more polite. But that’s the gist of what happens.)

Gamestop does the same thing. A lot of stores do. When you buy their stuff, that’s not enough for them. They want you to sign up, subscribe, become a member, buy extra stuff, and give them a back rub while you’re at it.

It’s not enough for them that they have a paying customer right there in front of them. They want more.

At Meijer, when you buy something, you know what happens? They take your money. That’s it.

It’s a novel concept. Something other stores might want to consider. You can call it the Buckley Model for business: take money and supply an item or service in exchange.

You’re welcome.

Do something unexpected today.

We are, all of us, getting older. But we are still briefly, blessedly alive. Today, break the shackles of convention and do something that frees your spirit.

I am being dramatic. But this is my blog, so I’m allowed. Be dramatic today.

They always tell you to dance like nobody’s watching. Maybe that’s exactly right. Or maybe you’ve done entirely too much dancing already, and today you want to be still. That’s all right, too. Do something unexpected today.

Go somewhere you’ve never gone. Be someone you’ve never been. If you’re waiting for a chance, this is it. If you’re not waiting for a chance, this is still it.

It is said: carpe diem, seize the day. But I say unto you: seize the hour, nay, the very moment. Supplies are limited, act now.

Venture forth and be free.

Have a great day! 🙂

I beat Diablo III the other day. The final boss (spoiler alert) is Diablo. Kicked his ass on the first try.

I love final bosses. They’re so…memorable. Video game designers try things with final bosses that they haven’t done anywhere else in the game.

Probably my all-time favorite final boss, for sheer atmosphere, is Ganondorf in Zelda: Ocarina of Time. You fight your way past one enemy after another, and then you come to a carpeted spiral staircase. As you go up the stairs, the organ music gets louder and louder. You enter the final chamber, and Ganondorf is inside, playing the music. He stops, turns around, faces you.

Epic.

(And then after you beat him, you still have to fight his final form, Ganon. Double epic.)

Music often takes center stage in these encounters. In Mario RPG, for instance, the final battle with Smithy begins with thirteen perfect notes before descending into chaos. The music for Bowser in Mario 64 is deliciously gothic.

I once thought about making a website dedicated solely to final bosses. I think that was before I knew HTML. Scary.

Who’s your favorite F.B.?