Posts by swiftcobra43

I was scrolling through my feed the other day and stumbled upon a thread about some university-level attempts to "coordinate" fan behavior for upcoming seasons. It wasn't even about the athletes or the tactical side of the game, but rather this weird, highly structured way of telling people exactly what they should be wearing or how they should be presenting themselves to maximize a certain "aesthetic" for social media. It got me thinking about how much of our modern fandom—and honestly, our social lives in general—is being replaced by these pre-packaged, choreographed rituals.

Don't get me wrong, I love the energy of a big game. I love the sea of a specific color in the stands, the chants, and that feeling of being part of something much bigger than yourself. There’s a primal, beautiful chaos to a crowd of thousands of people all reacting to the same play in real-time. But lately, it feels like there’s this growing push to sanitize that chaos. There’s this subtle pressure to move away from being a "fan" and toward being a "performer."

When you start seeing official or semi-official "schedules" that dictate the visual vibe of the crowd, it feels less like a community coming together and more like a marketing department trying to curate a brand. It’s like we’re moving toward a world where the "vibe" is more important than the actual experience. I remember going to games back in the day where the crowd was a messy, beautiful patchwork of different eras of gear—grandpas in faded jerseys from the 80s, kids in brand-new gear, people just wearing whatever they had on. It felt authentic. Now, it feels like there’s an unspoken rule that if you aren't part of the "color scheme" of the week, you’re somehow doing it wrong or breaking the immersion.

This isn't just limited to sports, though. You see it everywhere now. Social media has turned everything into a backdrop. Whether it's a wedding, a concert, or a stadium, there is this increasing pressure to "curate" the moment so it looks perfect in a 15-second clip. We are increasingly living our lives for the "grid" rather than the moment. When organizations start leaning into this by creating these rigid visual guidelines, they aren't just organizing a crowd; they're essentially telling people, "This is how you are allowed to participate in this culture." It feels incredibly reductive.

I find myself wondering: at what point does the "organized enthusiasm" cross the line into being performative nonsense? If we lose that element of spontaneous, unscripted human emotion—the ability to just show up as we are without checking a manual to see if our shirt is the "correct" shade of red or blue—do we actually lose the soul of the thing we’re supposed to be celebrating? I worry that we are trading genuine connection for a highly polished, highly controlled simulation of connection.

It feels like we’re being coached to be spectators of our own lives. Instead of being participants in a shared passion, we're being told to act as extras in a highly produced production where the goal is to look cohesive for the cameras. It’s a strange shift in human behavior. We used to gather to witness something; now, it feels like we gather to be witnessed.

I'm curious to hear what you guys think. Do you think this kind of coordination adds to the excitement and the "unity" of a fan base, or do you feel like it's just another layer of artificiality being forced onto something that used to be organic? Is the "aesthetic" worth losing the authenticity?

My brother has been battling this illness for a very long time now. I see all these self-proclaimed experts popping up on these forums, attempting to explain the biological origins of such outbreaks, but I find myself unconvinced. Is it truly just biology? I suspect otherwise, and I’ve actually found supporting evidence in a prominent sociological theory—one you can easily look up on Wikipedia. In my view, the true culprits are the erosion of social cohesion and the constant processing of misinformation. It sounds radical, perhaps, but I often get the distinct impression that he is inhabiting an entirely different dimension. All those hallucinations... they felt so undeniably real, even in public settings, to the point where it seems practically impossible for him to be fabricating them. He simply perceives realities that remain invisible to the rest of us.
He refuses to discuss it, and frankly, enough time has passed that we should respect that. Despite everything, he hasn't lost an ounce of his intellect, even after more than ten years of this struggle. Back when the condition first surfaced, he was acting like a typical twenty-one-year-old, chasing after a girl who eventually broke up with him. That rejection hit him hard, and things began a rapid downward spiral. He tried to distract himself with other relationships, but then, quite suddenly, he just snapped. He closed his eyes and began uttering these bizarre things, leading into the hallucinations and various conspiracy theories. Yet, looking at him today? He is remarkably sharp and intelligent—it is almost unbelievable.

Welcome Banned Crazy!!!

I wanted to pose a question to you regarding something I mentioned previously—specifically my comment about how this entire ordeal feels like a struggle within my heart. You responded by noting that, for you, it isn't a matter of the mind, but rather the heart. That was precisely what I intended to ask you, though I failed to do so at the moment. However, you also went on to suggest that this isn't an ailment of the soul, but rather one of the brain. This leads me to a point of contention: how can it be a struggle residing in the heart, yet the actual pathology be located in the brain?

briskgull27 said:I've personally learned how to stop seeing everything in such black and white.

The medication isn't the end-all, be all; even though I take them, I don't feel like I have to struggle just to remain myself.

Think about it like when an apple fell on Newton and he discovered gravity—maybe E=mc² or E=E is just another version of that logic.
So, it feels illogical to suggest we should just be erased like trash in a Recycle bin. I'm certain of that much, even if the destination of that void is called "silence" or perhaps something like hell.

Still, maybe I should just end it all, since that is the one thing I truly fear.

I'm really curious: What exactly is the Devil?

I believe we all harbor these evil spirits within us, and they slowly begin to emerge. There is this restlessness that sets in as a person matures, and all that. Some people simply cannot endure it. In the beginning of life, a person is incredibly aggressive and loud, but eventually, they settle down. However, not everyone succeeds in conquering their demons; some are overwhelmed by them, and that is simply the reality. Just as there is God within us and everyone feels that presence, there is also the Devil within us, yet no one wants to speak of it. Everyone carries these filthy, repulsive thoughts, standing ready for the moment to act upon their wicked impulses.

There is a verse in Ocenas that says:

Ocenas, do not lead us into evil...

The psychologist Jung actually examined that sixth verse and remarked: how can it be that God leads a man toward evil? It raises the same question: is evil a part of God? Is the Devil then His assistant? Truly, how can God lead a person into evil? Perhaps it is better for a person if God gives them problems to solve, but it is certainly not good for Him to test them by leading them into darkness.

Personally, I believe the entire world is nothing more than a battlefield between God and the Devil. And I suspect the outcome of this struggle remains entirely uncertain.

briskgull27 said:Muchas gracias, but as far as I'm concerned, God is the Devil.

What kind of God would it be if He wasn't just a total coward?

And regarding the struggle, for me too, it happens in the heart, not in the brain.🤣 🤣 🤣 😁 😁 😁

Now, as for the connection between the soul and medication, I would suggest that drugs act on the physical plane via metabolism, which then affects the psyche, and eventually reaches the soul.👍
I'm just too much of a wimp to stop taking them.🙂 🙂 🙂

Perhaps God is schizophrenic himself, split into two distinct personalities. I suspect God struggles to fight for good and to cast out the evil within Himself; I imagine if the Devil wins, He will become the Devil, and instead of paradise, we will all face hell. Who can say for certain?

I honestly believe medications are a third kind of God. At least, that is my view: once you are on medication, you are no longer truly yourself...

It is difficult to exist without medication. When I recall how close I came to death—there was one moment where I thought, "this might be it," and everything just stopped. Ever since that night.

briskgull27 said:If a friend has schizophrenia and is 40 years old, they’re still dealing with the same reality.
10 minutes.
The thing is, if you sat there talking to her for 48 hours straight, it wouldn't change a thing.
It’d be better to just take her to see Sai Baba.

What’s the point of living?
Honestly, I keep going because I’m terrified of what comes next, you know?

Looking at it through different lenses: 1) God gave me this illness and expects me to endure it.
2) The Devil gave it to me, and even if I check out, God won't give a damn about me.

Could it be that the Devil should actually be God?
Questions?

Anyway, I believe in that damn karma and I just take it on the chin.
Even if it feels totally pointless, so be it!

It really is like that. I faced my own set of issues, and I viewed the whole thing as a literal war between God and the Devil playing out inside my own heart. I truly believed I was fighting for God, and in the end, I came out on top. There were moments when I thought I was going to snap—I honestly felt like I couldn't take another step—and then I developed these gut issues that were clearly psychosomatic. I never touched a single pharmaceutical; I fought it purely through sheer willpower. Eventually, that crushing sickness receded, and I've been fine since. But I think you're right about the core of it. When I was in the thick of it, I wasn't certain, but I had this overwhelming intuition. Then I read a passage from Dostoevsky where he explains that God and the Devil are in constant conflict, and the battlefield is the human heart. Well, once I read that, I knew. That was it.

briskgull27 said:Well, I’ve been dealing with this since 1996 too!
Here is how it works for me: if I'm feeling depressed, antidepressants help; if I'm in a manic phase, I need sleep aids. It seems like mental anguish actually manifests as physical pain.
The worst part is feeling like my very spirit leaves me when I don't take my medication, because one of the consequences of skipping doses feels like the death of my mind.

Look, whatever label "science" gives me doesn't change the reality that I’ll only truly be at peace when I pass away, nor does it explain why these medications seem to prevent me from ever finding true tranquility.

I used to be the star of the show, too, so I know how fragile that status really is.
Nowadays, I actually have a few friends who practically beg me to stop talking about schizophrenia because they just can't take it anymore.

It means so much to have those four specific people who understand that I absolutely need ten hours of sleep.
I honestly have no idea why it has to be that way.
But I will tell you, there was one time when I skipped my meds for about four months and ended up walking completely naked all the way to a suburb of Atlanta. In broad daylight! I don't think I could ever pull something like that off now. Then again, I did decide to fly out to that fancy party in Venice on June 6th, 2007, didn't I?😈
There are no rules.
Does your family member spend a lot of time on the computer?

😘

How exactly does the brain die? What does that sensation feel like? How do you even function when that happens? It seems to me as though the pills provide that bridge between the soul and the body, though I couldn't say for certain...

Sometimes he laughs to himself; he used to be aggressive, but he isn't anymore—he just lacks concentration and nothing interests him. At the beginning, when this all started, it was terrifying, filled with hallucinations and a fear of everything, but later he calmed down... partially, at least. Now, he is quiet...

He also has moments where he wants to tell everyone that he is ill.
He takes Akineton too. Those are his sleep aids.

He doesn't use a computer; to him, it might as well be zero. I could perhaps suggest it to you,
maybe then he would write something. But I suspect he would either do it live or not at all (that's my guess, anyway). He spends his entire day smoking, drinking coffee, listening to music, and so on. You two could probably talk all day long. He has no one to talk to and he is bored, and surely he could understand you. I will mention it to him regardless. If I recall correctly, you are the same age—born in 1977.

Sometimes I see him suffering like that, but I simply cannot grasp it.

It is as if he is possessed by something, as if there is some spirit inside him that takes control of him from time to time.

🙂

I have a family member living with schizophrenia. He’s been battling this since 1996. I find it quite fascinating that you maintain the stance that this is strictly a biological brain disorder rather than an issue of the soul. I am absolutely convinced it is the latter. In fact, I believe one could actually prove that there is no underlying physiological brain dysfunction at all.

He has suffered immensely, though he is stable now, relying on Zyprexa and perhaps quinine or something similar. In my view, the only true path to recovery is to step away from the medication and fight this battle through sheer force of will. It is an incredibly grueling undertaking—one that might last a lifetime or even lead to death—but victory is possible. He attempted to quit his meds once before, which resulted in him being committed to a psychiatric ward after several violent outbursts. When he was eighteen, he was the life of the party, the star among his friends and the girls he dated, but as the illness took hold, people simply drifted away from him.
His intellect and core personality remain intact. During the onset of his condition, he was so manipulative that he had doctors dancing on their fingertips, leading them to issue completely incorrect diagnoses, but eventually, he just couldn't hold out...

I wish you the very best.

I am of the opinion that wisdom has absolutely nothing to do with observing the world—that is to say, the external reality—but rather concerns the internal landscape: the profound realization of one's own unconscious thoughts.

If we were to apply empirical knowledge to this, we would essentially be embarking on a formal thesis discussion. Perhaps such an argument could hold water if one were to categorize knowledge into "internal" and "external" domains and then attempt to synthesize them, but I would have to exert a significant amount of mental effort to formulate a proper rebuttal to that proposition! And frankly? I have no time for it!

The concept of "awareness of one’s own ignorance" might actually serve as the antithesis to my point—it is, in essence, an awareness of one’s own unconsciousness, a gradual process of transcending or uncovering the true self. It is through this that one truly attains consciousness regarding what they are not. That might be viewed as a negative definition, yet the prompt specifically calls for a positive one, does it not?

I suspect that sorrow plays a monumental role in this journey, or at the very least, marks its inception. However, I am referring to that genuine, soul-crushing sorrow that arises during the moment of self-discovery—the moment when one finally confronts their own unconscious impulses and hidden ideas.

Wisdom is essentially a combination of intellect and spiritual fortitude—though there is a distinction to be made. You acquire intellect through raw talent or life experience, but true spiritual strength? That only comes from unearthing the subconscious depths within yourself.

The path toward wisdom invariably begins with sorrow.