The Gucci trend needs to die already

When a phrase like “That’s so Gucci” enters the relative mainstream, you know the meme is close to death.

Super Junior D&E: A prince among men vs. the Gucci clown

Look, I don’t dislike Gucci.

Their ideas over the past few years have been interesting, especially when they started down the high/low kitsch path. Back when Jared Leto was the Gucci high-fashion drama king.

Now though, the whole Gucci aesthetic feels overplayed.

Maybe it’s just me. Maybe I’m craving refinement and deliberateness (and let’s be real I’m more of a D&G girl anyway) but the gonzo-ness of this latest incarnation of Gucci has grown, IDK, stale.

Take, for example, the photo above. Donghae keeps it classic — “ringmaster” never goes out of style — and relatively toned-down despite a very flamboyant jacket. Eunhyuk, however, is stuck in tragic fashion victim mode — his clothes are more than he can handle. (And as a k-pop veteran, he can handle a lot of clothes.)

Let’s move on from “high fashion tacky grandma,” okay?

What’s next, the moon landing?

First it was the fallacy of chemical imbalances in the brain. Apparently now hydration is less important to exercise than they would have us believe:

One of the principles of selling a product, and if it’s a medical product and you make medical claims, is that you must maximize your market. In my view, those 1996 guidelines, what they do is they maximize the markets for sports drinks. What they are essentially saying is that it’s dangerous to lose any weight during exercise. In other words, it doesn’t matter what exercise you’re doing, you must drink at the same rate that you are sweating. And you mustn’t wait to become thirsty. What that means is that if you go to a gym and start exercising for 10 minutes, you must start drinking before you start, and within 10 minutes you must have drunk a certain amount. That increases the market size for your product, from just marathon runners to everyone who exercises. So when you go onto the street and you see runners jogging along for a couple of miles, they are carrying water with them. They become a target user for your product. They managed to change drinking behavior out of competitive sport for runners and cyclists and triathletes to gym exercisers as well. The consequence of that is that the sale of their product just rocketed thereafter. They had to demonize hydration and make it a disease.

Basically, listen to your body. Marketing departments demonize our body’s natural regulatory mechanisms (thirst) in order to sell us stuff we don’t need (Gatorade).

I’m late to this party. I’m no endurance athlete. This has been discussed all across the internet and you don’t hear of people dying from marathon running anymore. But this stuff is important.

I feel like I should be better than this, but I am continually astounded at the depth and creativity of the lies they feed us. Once you think, “Okay I got this, now I can go out and live a real life” you find about 6 more layers of crap that you have to dig through.

The most horrifying part, to me, is that most of this seems to be somewhat organic. Sure, there are pockets of conspiracies (in the sense of a loosely connected group of people working together, like citation rings), but on the whole it seems like a bunch of opportunistic, disconnect people working in their own best interest.

I don’t doubt that they are egged on by forces bigger than ourselves, but this isn’t the case of some scientists plotting together in a dark room to dehydrate a bunch of endurance athletes. This is short-sighted human idiocy at its finest.

What happens when we decouple ourselves from risk and skin in the game and the eternal.

Consider Don Draper, the idolized con man. We love him in Mad Men but we go apoplectic when he becomes our president.

We love the idea of being seduced, even when the seduction is a bit sleazy.


Every single time we’re astounded to find ourselves alone the next morning.

Perhaps I’m just projecting, dear reader.

Does this stuff still surprise you?


I’m starting to notice the little things.

Like when the song you discuss in the car on the way to the concert is the first one of the set.

Even a band that’s highly impacted by Trump Derangement Syndrome can’t stop the signal.


» I saw a potpourri dispenser the other day. It was a little copper kettle with decorative holes in the lid (these ones looked like stars). I’ve never loved potpourri, nor do I love looking at tiny decorative kettles, so I don’t know why this would be supremely interesting to anyone. Perhaps that’s why it was at an antique mall.

» I am a person of Extraverted intuition (Ne), and I had the chance to converse with another Ne over the weekend. While there are many things that this person and I disagree on, it was fun talking to someone who “spoke the same language,” so to speak. Knowing more about the stack-order of Myers Briggs types has been incredibly helpful to me in understanding people.

» If you’re going on vacation with a friend, determine payment structure and level of planning in advance. Everything proceeds nicely from there.

» The Fountainhead isn’t nearly as interesting a book as it was when I was 18. My main criticism of Atlas Shrugged (that the human action was cartoonish) seems also to extend to The Fountainhead. The insights are still keen, though. I’ve observed many in my own dealings with people. More to come.

» My focus in my personal journey to health has started to focus on mindset and thought patterns. This is going to be a big shift in how I’ve approached health and healing, and will probably be Not Fun.

» Sinus headaches are the worst.

Appreciation post: not having a headache

Today, due to abysmal air quality, I sprouted the most magnificent of headaches.

It shimmers behind my eyeball, reverberating through my sinuses.

The pain that broke its way out into my hard palette is finally calming down.

I long for a quiet head.

And I know that, after a few hours, I won’t think about it anymore.

But in this moment, I am so grateful for all the other times when my head didn’t hurt.

Finding your habitat

I spent the weekend my aunt in the woods.

She’s a self-sufficient, off-the-grid kind of lady. Grows a lot of her own food, makes her own wine, built her own house. If you want to get ahold of her, you have to call my cousin who lives down the road in a house that has electricity and a phone–she’ll drive up to my aunt’s to relay a message.

As you might expect, all this is situated in the middle of the woods.

No angry neighbors.

No traffic.

No billboards.

Just good people, and trees, and some dogs (and chickens and a horse).

My health hasn’t been this good since the last time I went camping. Nearly the same latitude, also in the trees.

If I’m serious about giving my body the right environment that it needs to heal, that goes beyond just the foods that I eat and the job that I do. Perhaps that also means my actual physical location.

I’ve started a search for a place where I actually want to be, and I think that will contribute to a positive trajectory in my life.

I think PLACE matters more than we want to think.

The ideal place to make money is the city (usually), but it’s not the ideal place for healing.

In the 19th century, they would send you away on a long vacation if you got sick–to the seaside, usually. Now, you just put your head down and work harder.


Last time I looked at apartments, I created a heuristic that if you have to make a pro and con list, the answer is “no.”

Last night I looked at a place that I wanted to like. It’s nestled into a farm. But I’m debating.

(The shower is in the middle of the bedroom. That feels weird to me.)

By my heuristic, debate means no.

That makes me sad.

I feel like I’m not giving it a chance.

Yet I also know that no matter how great a space may be, a few bad aspects could ruin the whole experience.

As an introvert who values a peaceful living situation, this is important.


Social Media Giants

It was a big week for social media.

Everything I can think of to say sounds histrionic.

They banned Alex Jones.

This is a real fight, and yet “our side” just sits back and takes it – every single time.

How much longer can we go on like this?

Hello, it’s hot

Today is supposed to be the hottest day of the summer. I believe it.

It’s so hot, I’m uncomfortable.

You know what also makes me uncomfortable? This passage right here:

Submit yourself for the Lord’s sake to every human institution, whether to a king as the one in authority, or to governors as sent by him for the punishment of evildoers and the praise of those who do right. For such is the will of God that by doing right you may silence the ignorance of foolish men. Act as free men, and do not use your freedom as a covering for evil, but use it as bondslaves of God. Honor all men; love the brotherhood, fear God, honor the king.

I Peter 2:13-17

Sometimes our own little hopes and dreams are a biiiiit too big for what a human being can handle. Sometimes I dream about being free of all the arbitrary restrictions of the government.

But then I read exhortations like this.

Submit. For the Lord’s sake.



A Meditation: The Lamb of God

Not the metal band. Jesus Christ himself.

The phrase “Lamb of God” brings up images of sacrifice, of innocence, of docile purity.

It’s a true thing–Jesus Christ was indeed the perfectly innocent sacrifice for our sins–but like many sides of the story, it’s missing something.

The lamb symbolism very much fits the “gentle Jesus, meek and mild” imagery that is heavily pushed by cat ladies and people who desperately want Jesus to be a socialist.

But think about lambs a minute.

Lambs are not just gentle and mild and whatever.

Lambs are cheeky.



Lambs like to frolic and play.

(Mute this if you value your ears.)

Lambs jump and play and headbutt and generally don’t pay attention to rules.

Kind of like Sassy Jesus as depicted in the Book of Luke.

So next time you think of Jesus Christ, the Lamb of God, don’t just think about how sad it is that we sacrificed an innocent being as atonement for our sins.

Consider also how you might defy gravity out of sheer joy.

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