The Cheese Grates It: A Brother's Worst Nightmare

I didn’t want to hijack anyone’s post, but when I saw this picture and this quote

He’s already begun to forget himself, everyone he’s ever known, ever loved. Even you. 

Soon, he’ll forget how to speak, how to swallow. Then he’ll die.

I couldn’t help thinking of a real life sibling relationship where that is the reality, because that is what Alzheimer’s does to those whose lives it devastates.

These brothers are two years apart in age, but the elder of the pair looks like he’s much older because of the disease process that had started destroying his mind. He was still able to recognize his younger brother at this point. He doesn’t any more.

I’ve always found a parallel between Sam and Dean’s devotion to each other and the devotion in this real life soul mate relationship, although I need to insert the caveat that while I eventually started shipping Sam and Dean as an OTP,  I sure as fuck have never seen anything but a very strong platonic bond between these guys. Fuck’s sake, I could slap the living crap out of the idiots who do the whole “oh you ship Wincest so you must see all siblings as sexually involved, including you and any siblings you may have.” Fuck’s sake no, you moron. Anyone who thinks this way (and I use the term “think” loosely) is welcome to either tie raw steaks to themselves and jump into shark infested waters or jump aboard a rocket ship bound for the sun. I have no patience for your stupidity.

I have thought about Malcolm Young every day several times a day ever since I found out about what is happening to him. I doubt I will ever stop thinking about what this damn disease has done to him as long as I live. I know I will always remember, because if I find out that I’ve developed a similar disease process, I’m taking myself out before it can destroy my cognition to the point where I don’t remember.

My father had vascular dementia. At the time of his passing, he still recognized members of his family, but he was extremely confused about everything else.

It is better to die some other way than by one of the processes resulting in dementia. Pretty much any other way.

One of the true horrors of a disease such as Alzheimer’s is the fact that it takes SO FUCKING LONG to kill its victims. By the time it finally does, there is pretty much literally nothing left of the victim’s brain.

This is a real photo, comparing a slice of a brain from a person without Alzheimer’s at the time of death to one from a person with Alzheimer’s at the time of death. Let that shit sink in.

My aunt, who was a very tough lady who survived many years of abuse at the hands of her first husband and retained her sense of humor and generosity in spite of the things he did to her, has this fucking disease. It is getting to the point where my uncle (her second husband--I refused to call the first my uncle) is looking at the possibility of having to put her in long term care. He can’t stay awake 24 hours, and her wandering is becoming much worse.

I hate this disease. I hate this disease so fucking hard. I want to cry but I don’t have any damn tears. My tears would be useless anyway. It’s not like they could help anybody. So I seethe and am angry and it is literally affecting my heart, but I still can’t cry because that feels weak and because I’m afraid if I started I couldn’t stop. I have to function. I have a lot of shit that needs to get done.

I see so many parallels in this episode to what real sufferers of Alzheimer’s and their families go through. There are funny moments, yeah. There are funny moments in real life situations with family members with dementia too. Angus recalled how during the band’s final tour with Malcolm he was trying to look after his brother without making it seem like he was being condescending to him. When Malcolm protested that he didn’t need Angus and Brian Johnson following him because he was just going to the bathroom, Angus said “oh, us too. And we need to go together so that Brian doesn’t get lost.”

When my son was a baby, I worked for about 6 months as a private aide to a man who had Alzheimer’s and diabetes. He liked to tip one back but with his health conditions, that wasn’t a good plan. So his wife locked the liquor cabinet. When asked why, she told him it was because I had a drinking problem.

When working as an aide in a long term care facility, I would sneak into one patient’s room while she was asleep and remove all the dirty clothes in the bottom of her closet. The reason I had to play thief in the night with the laundry is because she’d become extremely upset if she saw anyone touching the clothes.

Moments like this are humorous, but there is nothing funny whatsoever about this disease.

This intelligent, independent, creative person who wrestled and won against addiction to alcohol and fought valiantly against the Black Dog and severe social anxiety inspired me to remain in the land of the living and fight back against those who bullied me. They were legion and they nearly pushed me to killing myself. Once I knew about this fellow, though, I realized he wouldn’t want me to, and his opinion was worth far more to me than all of their bullshit combined.

At the point when this picture was taken, he still recognized the person next to him although he often didn’t know where he was. She’s his daughter. He no longer recognizes her.

There is a picture from 2015 which shows not only confusion but fear in the once very alert and determined eyes. It’s fucking horrible.

In Regarding Dean, Dean is okay at the end because Supernatural is fiction.

The reality looks like this, only it doesn’t get resolved.

The reality is the words “he’s not in there at all any more” being spoken by a devoted younger brother regarding his best friend and soul mate.

I’ve never been able to finish reading the interview where those words were spoken. I had to stop at that point. I’ve never picked the magazine back up. I put it on a shelf where it has remained since.

If this were Supernatural, this might be the end result for these fellows, although I reckon Angus would probably end up with horns and a tail.

I think it is the end result in the afterlife, but not on this plane. On this plane, there is only separation, deterioration and death. If magic or miracles exist in the material realm, they are in very short supply.

I know that nobody here gets out alive. But as Glen Campbell’s wife said when talking about Glen’s Alzheimer’s, it’s better to die some other way.

I know there are people who will think I’m an asshole for saying this, but I wish that Malcolm Young’s body had ceased to function when he had a stroke in 2012. Then at least he would have remembered the people he cared about the most up to the end.

Hell, I think it would have been better for my father if he’d died at the point when he had his stroke. He struggled for six more years after that, although he had vascular dementia as opposed to Alzheimer’s. Still wasn’t a picnic by any means.

I think about those fools who feel that people my age (I’ll be 52 on February 15) aren’t “allowed” to be fans of shows like Supernatural. To them I say, fuck you. I need a world where magic is real and the two people who love each other the most in the world save each other always.

I need that, because the reality fucking sucks.

~The Cheese Hath Grated It~

Hilarious Signs of the Apocalypse: A Wee Scotsman on a Talking Horse

If you were a teenager in the 1980's like I was, and you grew up in the United States, you remember this shit. Come remember this shit with me, or, if you're too young to remember, you can read about this shit and wonder how anyone could possibly be so stupid.

http://www.vh1.com/news/54726/remembering-the-80s-heavy-metal-satanic-panic/

Taking this little stroll down Ridiculous Memory Lane has brought me to a startling conclusion about the end of the world.

Are you ready?

After reading (and laughing at) the aforementioned shit, I have come to the conclusion that the Apocalypse will be marked not by four horsemen, but by a single horseman: Angus Young, riding on Mr. Ed, while carrying a cache of Dungeons and Dragons manuals in his backpack. 

You see, The Apocalypse will be ludicrous rather than terrifying. I, for one, have my 20 sided dice ready to roll. Who's bringing snacks?

~Cie~

Not exactly a replacement for Nostradamus, but probably funnier

Here is like a for real top seekrit AC/DC Devil Worshiping Ceremony caught live on tape and stuff by our super spy team. Look at this wickedness. Just look at it! 

Angus Young's RED guitar and hat.

Malcolm Young's RED tank top.

Hordes of RED capped minions!

Giant iguanas!

Pterodactyls!

The only thing that could make it more wicked and diabolical would be Mr. Ed!

You'll have to read the article.

Not So Wordless Wednesday's Beautiful Person of the Week: Week One: Malcolm Young

Malcolm Mitchell Young was born January 6, 1953. He stands about 5'3" tall and weighs about 100 pounds. He looks kind of like a Leprechaun. He isn't what most people would think of when they hear the word "beautiful."

Malcolm was very shy and tended to be depressive. He turned to certain magic potions to make him feel more sociable and less sad, which is a not uncommon problem but an oft-vilified one. His closest friend and the other half of his soul, his brother Angus, stated that Malcolm wasn't sober one day from the time he was seventeen until the time he went into rehab at 35. He successfully rehabilitated from alcohol addiction at that point.

Seldom have I seen a closer, more obvious soul mate relationship. It's beautiful but at the same time tragic, because Malcolm doesn't remember who his brother is (or who anyone else is) any more. My heart breaks for both of them.

The big, friendly-looking fellow was Malcolm's nurse during his last tour with the band that he created. He no longer remembers how to play the instrument he was so proficient and innovative with. He no longer remember any of the things he did during his life. The picture was taken after he had a stroke in 2012. I know some people will think I'm terrible for saying this, but I think it would have been better if his body had stopped working at that point.

Our writing sister Dolly believes that Malcolm is a teacher and that his struggle is a lesson for us undeserving sorts here in Purgatory. She thinks he agreed to this mission prior to even being born. I don't disagree with her, but I still think it sucks much ass. She is correct that he was the kind of person who would say "why not me" as opposed to "why me" when confronted with such a horrific diagnosis.

Many people think that youth and perfection are the hallmarks of beauty. Most would say that the person in the top image is more beautiful than the one in the bottom image. They are the same person, and yet they aren't. In some ways, the person in the bottom image is the more beautiful, because he had learned certain lessons in compassion and was less likely to inadvertently make unintentionally callous statements. He was wiser, and wisdom is a thing of beauty.

Both of them are flawed people with good intentions.

Malcolm Young is a beautiful soul. I think that although his body is still functional, he no longer operates through it. For all intents and purposes, he functions as a discarnate spirit. I have sensed that he deeply regrets having hurt certain people during his lifetime and wishes he could make up for it. He remains a perfectionist who has difficulty forgiving himself for his mistakes.

Malcolm is my first "beautiful person" in my Not So Wordless Wednesday series because his birth anniversary falls two days from now, and because he means the world to me.

~Cie~

The Cheese Grates It: The Satanic Panics Were and Are Stupid

Just putting this out there. 

Obviously I'm still pissed off about this because I've never forgotten it.

Back in the day, ya know, when dinosaurs roamed and we had to fear being crushed by brontosaurus with their big feet and walnut brains, I was in high school, and I had a really bad reputation for being a "devil worshiper." 

There seemed to be two reasons for this.

One was my belief that government sanctioned health care "such as they have in Sweden"was a good idea.

The other was my love for what became known as "classic rock" music, especially a weird little band known for a weird little guy who sometimes wore a hat with devil horns and was infamous for dropping trou and mooning the audience.

Call Angus Young cheeky--hell, call the entire band cheeky, and you're right. But I never understood for one minute how people could accuse them of being evil. 

I think I'm feeling particularly sensitive about it at the moment, having read how Angus makes sure to frequently contact his very sick, dying brother, even though he's said that his brother "isn't in there at all any more."

Angus always tells Malcolm that he loves him and that everyone misses him, even though he isn't sure if anything he says gets through.

What an evil, evil bastard. What kind of a monster does that?

Angus also said that disbanding after Malcolm could no longer continue might have been the right thing to do, but back when they first started, if you didn't play, you didn't eat, and that has always stuck with him.

You don't forget being really poor, which these guys were.

I initially liked them for their music. I wouldn't have noticed them if it hadn't been for that. Once I found out what kind of people they were, I liked them even more because of that.

I guess I've never understood how people can start really nasty, baseless rumors about other people. I never understood the Satanic Panic crap, not even for a minute. I can tell you that rather than making me want to become more religious, it pushed me away from religion. Even though I feared that I might be going to some sort of hell, because I was raised with those beliefs, I wasn't going to join in a witch hunt.

It's a real lark that people are still talking this kind of shit today. 

Ask me again why I think humans are the creator's biggest mistake.

I'm really not a complete misanthrope, even though such a statement might make me appear to be one. I like people one on one, unless they give me reason not to. It's the human race as a whole that I have problems with.

~The Cheese Hath Grated It~

The Cheese Grates It; Genetics, Infections, Correlation, Causation and The Blame Game

After reading this article, I'm thinking that all kinds of brain problems could be caused by a combination of infections and drawing the genetic short straw, which is why some people have these problems and some don't, even in the same family. 

The problem is, a lot of the time there seems to be finger pointing, such as when it's stated that people with depression are more likely to develop Alzheimer's disease. There is this attitude that if you just stop being depressed (wow, wouldn't that be nice) you'll become less prone to Alzheimer's disease, so pull yourself up by the boot straps, you pudding, and stop being such a Debbie or Donnie Downer. 

Well, what if the same genetic trigger is what causes both depression and Alzheimer's in some unlucky people? Also, note that not everyone with a mood disorder ends up with Alzheimer's disease. Correlation is not causation.

According to the article, "it is known that people with a gene called ApoE2 have brains that are good at sweeping out plaque, and have a low risk of Alzheimer’s in old age. Those with a different version, ApoE4, are inefficient in removing plaque and have a high risk of Alzheimer’s."

These men are brothers. The fellow on the left side of your monitor was 57 years old when this picture was taken. The one on the right side of your screen was 59. 

The fellow on the left presents as a healthy older adult man. The older brother does not look well, and he isn't. He was diagnosed with dementia two years previously. Before I was aware of this, I surmised that he was either having endocrine problems (hyperthyroidism), or he was developing Parkinson's disease. His facial expression and his stance look similar to those of a person with Parkinson's. I had also seen several photos of him in which he had spilled food or drink on himself, which would be another indicator of neurological problems. We all do it sometimes, but when such occasions become frequent, it's a red flag.

Breaking things down:

Both of these men come from a family that is prone to cancer and cardiovascular disease. Both of their parents died at age 74. (I am unsure of the reason for their deaths.) Their eldest brother died at age 57 from lung cancer. Both of these men developed an addiction to nicotine. 

The older brother had more health problems than the younger over the years. He was prone to depression and anxiety, including social anxiety, and developed an addiction to alcohol. He was one of those people who seemed to come down with whatever "bug" was making the rounds. Overall, he seemed to be of less hardy stock than his younger brother, who had no issues with addiction to alcohol or drugs, no issues with major depression, tended to be socially gregarious, and seemed to be in good health most of the time.

It would seem likely that the younger brother possesses the APOe2 gene, where the elder brother drew the short straw and ended up with the APOe4. 

My theory is that such a gene may also leave people who have it prone to psychological disorders, which I postulate are also triggered by infections. Someone with "good" genes will be able to fight off such infections and clear the resulting residue from their systems without issue. Someone who drew the genetic short straw will not be similarly blessed.

Viral infections are also theorized to trigger a tendency to obesity in people with a certain genetic code. Obesity gets blamed for everything, but here again, correlation is not causation and if shaming people worked, we would have no addicts, no one with psych disorders, and no fat people. Clearly, shaming people doesn't cure any of the world's ills, so it would be nice if we could stop doing it and instead look for solutions. 

TL:DR

Science explains physical anomalies. Go science!

Brain diseases suck and are probably caused by bad microbes and mutated genes.

One bad gene is all it takes to perma-fuck your life.

Look for solutions rather than pointing the Finger of Shame and Blame.

Be compassionate. You never know when it may be your turn to draw the short straw. 

Now you know, and knowing is half the battle. Go GI Joe! 

(If you weren't a child of the 1980's, you probably won't understand this last reference.)

~The Cheese Hath Grated It and Blinded You With Science~

Soul Calls

At The Beginning of the End: Version 6
Photoshop manipulation by The Real Cie

This is my final post on the Cie Loves Mal tumblr. 

I am no longer using this blog for its original purpose. I feel far too vulnerable doing so. I feel like I have revealed things that are much too personal. 

I was intending to delete the blog, however, I am leaving it here with one final post. I am creating a new blog for my artwork, stories, and personal thoughts. If you want the URL, say so in the comments. I don’t read messages.

I remember one time a blogger wondered why she had such strong emotions for James Hetfield, a person whom she has never met. Sure, she loves his music, but this emotion went far beyond the rational. As someone who has had a lot of experience with the metaphysical, I did not believe what she was feeling to be irrational, but at the time I couldn’t explain this phenomenon. I now can, and I hope to be able to save other people a lot of grief by doing so.

The information I discovered is in this post. Please read it. It will save you a lot of heartache. I wish I had known about this phenomenon when I was much younger. It would have saved me many years of pain.

The phenomenon I refer to is known as a Soul Call.

People with empathic abilities are particularly susceptible to soul calls.

The soul call explains why some people always have a tendency to find stray animals. It also explains why some people have a tendency to find wounded people whom they try to save, only to end up with a broken heart.

The soul call also explains why an otherwise rational person could feel as if she is falling in love with (for instance) James Hetfield, whom she has never met. It has nothing to do with lust or wanting to bang a rock musician for the thrill. She might not even necessarily want to have sex with him. She does, however, find herself wanting to be close to him. The desire to do so becomes all consuming.

This happens because James (or whomever) is feeling troubled about something. He may not even be consciously aware that he is particularly troubled, but his psyche is reaching out, saying “does someone have an answer for me?”

I am hoping that understanding the nature of soul calls can help quell the miserable feeling of unrequited love that all empaths feel at one time or another for a person whom they cannot possibly get close to, and whom it might not even be a good idea to get close to.

For my own part, I would have been saved 26 years of misery wherein I felt a strong pull towards someone who turned out to have both substance and sex addiction problems. This person haunted my dreams, literally. My need to find and get close to him destroyed my marriage. Fortunately, what I wanted never transpired. In fact, during my final astral encounter with him, I ended up telling him to stay away from me or I would hit him in the face with a shovel.

For the record, the person in question is not Malcolm Young.

Regarding Malcolm Young, his soul is screaming and has been for many years. I do not mean to imply that he is in a literal hell, for this is not the case. I only mean to impart that he is extremely troubled by his situation because he is sorry for hurting those who care about him and he can’t do anything about it.

I believe that what Angus said about Malcolm not being in his body at all any more is true. He is, for all intents and purposes, in spirit. The fact that his body remains in the material world is disconcerting and distressing to him.

Certainly there will be empaths who will hear this call and feel as if they are falling in love with such a spirit. However, romantic love is not what he needs or wants. Blessings, prayers, and peaceful vibrations are helpful to spirits in a situation such as Malcolm’s. Regarding Malcolm in particular, I think he would greatly welcome such assistance. 

In closing, yes, dear empathic souls, the love in your heart for the one whose soul call you are receiving is real. On closer examination, you are likely to find that it is not, in fact, romantic love. Look deeper. Ask how you can help. If you cannot sense anything concrete, simply send white light or say blessings or a prayer on behalf of the one making the soul call. Believe that it will help. It will.

I know now that I have received many soul calls over the years. I have been severely damaged by feelings of unrequited love and of loss, and it will take time for me to heal. I hope that I can save some of you the grief I have known. That is why I leave this here for you.

Peace, 

Cie

Under My Wing

This is my favorite of my “Angel” manips. It turned out so perfectly because of the dynamic that was already there. 

I believe that the spirit survives the death of the body, and if you believe that then you know that Malcolm is/will be Angus’ real guardian angel, regardless of whether or not winged angelic beings are real.

I think he already is. Angus said in a January interview in Guitar World (I believe) regarding Malcolm “he isn’t in there at all any more.” His body doesn’t allow him to matrix through it any longer because the CPU (brain) has sustained too much damage. He’s already a spirit even though his body remains in the world.

Yeah, I believe in all that esoteric shit. I’ve seen some shit. Every time I have seen some shit, I was stone cold sober and in a stable state of mind psychologically. I’ve experienced more than I’ve seen, because I generally don’t see spirits, but I do sense them.

Anyway, I love how this manip turned out. I love these guys. And when I get to the other side, some fate or power has got some ‘splainin’ to do for the shit it put them through.

~Cie~