I urgently recommend that, in addition to reading today's "Skeptic's Collection" column, you also watch the 14 January 2018 episode of Madame Secretary ("Sound and Fury").
I am neither a psychologist nor a psychiatrist nor any other type of mental-health professional. Consequently, I am unqualified to pronounce a clinical judgment on the mental health of President Donald Trump. My layman’s assessment – based on Bob Dylan’s “weatherman rule”: “You don’t need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows” – is that Trump, at best, has some grave challenges, both emotional and cognitive, when dealing with stress, criticism, and adversity. (For the record, I also take exception to this morning's [11 January] New York Times editorial alleging that Trump's mental state is irrelevant. Mat
I don't want to stray into inspiration porn here, but there's something I find very striking about this painting. Andrew Wyeth used a real person, his neighbor in Maine, as his inspiration. We don't know for certain what her disability is, but it's clear that her mobility is severely limited. Apparently, she refused to use any kind of mobility aid for whatever reason, and at the time the painting was done, in 1948, I have a feeling that her options were limited to ones that didn't really do much to help her navigate her world. I can't figure out how she would have been able to get out of her house, much less go outside and do anything.
The technology is much further advanced in today's world, but so are the barriers that prevent people with disabilities from accessing the ...
"Rise, awaken, seek the wise and realize. The path is difficult to cross like the sharpened edge of the razor, so say the wise." Katha Upanishads, verse 1.3.14
SURPRISED TO HAVE MADE IT TO SIXTY-SEVEN
In gratitude today, I celebrate sixty-seven years of life, forty-seven years with my world-class son, and sixteen years of survival beyond my medically predicted expiration date.
In 1999, I was diagnosed with Idiopathic Pulmonary Fibrosis (IPF) and given two years to live. (No, I have never smoked in my life.) Thanks to the boundless patience and kindness of my son and the compassion and good offices of an extraordinary medical team, I'm still here, sometimes home-bound and always bound to toting an oxygen tank. These complications don't keep me from enjoying the CitySon Philosop