Depression and Luck


I’m feeling like crap again today.

Every time I feel like I’m making some headway, I get beaten across the back by a heavy handed life wielding a frozen turkey.

That bad luck, I’ve recently learned, is completely genetic.

My family is cursed.

Presumably by some evil faeries.

I have to assume this curse happened some time shortly before my family moved from England to the Colonies. You see, we were doing pretty well back on the European side of the Atlantic, but since we came here…

Well, let’s just say there are a lot of bad decisions being made by my direct ancestors.

Of course, those bad decisions aren’t the only things keeping us down. We’re incredibly, insanely unlucky. There are times when life seems to be waiting for us to be vulnerable so that it can start kicking us in the crotch and not stop until we’re peeing blood.

I tend to dwell on those negative moments, and I think I have a keen understanding of why people fall into the trap of horrifying depression.

The World Really Does Suck


“Some people just want to watch the world burn.”

I’m not one of those people. I have a very different philosophy on world burning:

“The World just wants to watch Some People Burn!”

That’s right, the world is a dick. A mega-gulp-64-oz-sized dick.

Not that I can really blame it. I mean look what we’ve done to it. First we almost froze it by burning all kinds of disgusting things, blocking out the sun. Then, we started slowly baking it, melting off the north pole.

The world has a right to hate us.

Still, it shouldn’t mess with me.

I personally haven’t done anything to screw with the world. I’m a nice guy. I treat people and animals with respect. I don’t even smash spiders if I can avoid it. Sure, I eat animals, but that’s what they’re there for. I mean, if you asked a chicken what its purpose in life is, it would probably answer, “Ba-gock!”

Because it’s a chicken.

It can’t talk.

Chickens are also very stupid.

BUT! If you did manage to create a super intelligent chicken, that had, say, advanced telepathy or something, you know what Mega-Chicken would tell you the purpose of all chickens is?

To conquer humanity. Which is why you don’t make Mega-Chickens. They hate us and want us gone. That’s why we have to keep eating them, and cows, and pig, and…… Whatever it is hot dogs are made of.

I had a point when I started this rant.

Oh yeah.

My family is cursed by bad luck.

Not a lot of people believe in bad luck anymore.

“Superstition,” they cry as they deftly stumble over a black cat while walking under an open ladder, shortly before being hit by a bus.

This guy doesn’t buy what they’re selling, though.

I know better.

I’ve seen good things turn into real turn-fests within seconds for no reason at all other than simple bad luck.

Maybe there is something more subtle to it. It might be some sort of neurological disorder that causes us to subconsciously sabotage ourselves. Scientists probably feel more comfortable with that sort of theory. I think it’s karma being passed down to us from some ancestors that were really crap-monster Grade D ass-hats. I mean all the stories I’ve heard of my family from more than a couple of generations back are about us being generally pretty douchey to the people around us.

That type of thing clings to a bloodline.

The other possibility, like I mentioned earlier is that we’re under the effects of a Dark Fey Curse.

But that’s just stupid nonsense and folk lore.

I think that I’m going to have to revisit my February Counter Curse.

That seemed to hold the bad luck at bay for a while, at least.