Potty Mouth

I can't remember how I wrote about Freud last time. I hope it's different this time. Tell you the truth, I don't know much about him. Only glanced at some of his writings. But I know, like most people, that he invented psychiatry and pioneered dream interpretation way back in the late nineteenth century. Some don't like him. I've noticed, within my circles, that such people tend to use too much starch in their laundry. It gives them a kind of forced, uneasy gait - as though they were perpetually constipated. I'm don't understand the connection, myself. Better consult Jung. Freud had a gift, I think. He knew the human mind. He was able to penetrate the outer shell of a person and see the beast inside. I can only assume he took his initial findings from his own mind. He must have been comfortable enough with those depraved thoughts that rear themselves so shockingly every now and then; those random, 'dirty' thoughts which children are made to feel ashamed of. We humans are all crazy. We needed a man like Freud to sort it all out for us; to remind us that we are half animal. While we may strive for the sublime, we do so in the bodies of primates. I used to have one of his books on dream interpretation. As a youngster, I made the error of using it to try to help my mother analyze something. She staunchly (and punitively) disagreed with my hypothesis. Out went that book. Next best thing I could find was my brother's stash of magazines. Knowing we are half animal shouldn't be so threatening. It's a nice way to keep perspective. The only ones who would be threatened are the ones who mistakenly believe that we are not half animal. (You might also notice they have no bathrooms in their house. This may explain the funny walk.) Not me. I still have to go. Even with Freud telling me it's all right, I still find it humiliating. And stinky. And I'm pissed off about it. Yeah, that's right.
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