Tagged: Suicide

Michael Davis: It’s 25, Without a Bullet

Fair warning: little in this article has a thing to do with pop culture.  So, if your intention is to bitch about that after reading this let me do it for you:

Clueless Cow writes: Why is this in Bleeding Cool? Rich, can’t you get a writer to write what matters? He surely does not.

Live with parents at 50 writes: Davis writes an opinion column. Has anyone noticed all the views are his? Who is this guy anyway? I’d like to see my point of view expressed on ComicMix and so would my mom.

Do yourself a favor: stop reading now.

I’m writing this solely for my fans. I may joke I only have two, but I’ve got thousands all over the world. Spare me the “I’ve never heard of you” bullshit. Really? I’m the guy writing this. And you are..?

So, if you’re not a fan and are just going to bitch save your bandwidth, I’m sure you can find a Spiderman: Red or Black debate on the net somewhere.

Dear Fans Of The MOTU, I thank you for soooo many wonderful birthday wishes!  I’m all at once overjoyed humbled and as always sexy!  It’s hard to believe that I’m just 25.

25! Yeah, that’s a two and a five, as in 25!!!

Were you there? Are you my daddy? Well, if you are, where you been for 25 years? Oh, wait you’re black.

As you know – if you don’t pretend you do – people who suffer from severe depression are more likely to experience melancholy around the holidays birthdays any event where family and friends gather to celebrate.

Me? I’m only susceptible to bouts of sadness on days ending in y.

Often a small event, irrelevant to most people, triggers my downward spiral. The occurrence may not even have anything to do with me directly.

Let’s say that a racist, homophobic, women-hating straight up evil man becomes the President of the United States. That would make me crazy. What? All right damn it – that would make me crazier.

Tequila.

But let’s say the anniversary of his one-hundredth day in office is the focus all over the world and hard as I try I can’t turn the world off with a smirk like Mary Richards could with a smile.

Pills

But wait there’s more…

It’s also the anniversary of the beat down of Rodney King which triggers a “niggermoment.” A niggermoment is memories of times in my life regardless of what I’ve accomplished schools attended, or accolades heaped on me to some I’m seen as just a nigger.

Loaded gun.

Unfortunately, a great many of the “some” include the criminal justice system. Such memories like when the Anaheim Hilton threatened me with arrest because I dared utter the words “lower Alabama” and LAPD falsely arresting me twice come soaring back.

One arrest was for chasing my drunk former girlfriend out of her mind to stop her from driving. She was loaded but seeing LAPD jump out of a passing cruiser with guns leveled at my head sobered her up enough to tell them I’d done nothing but try and get the car keys. As I laid on the ground with a shotgun pointed at the back of my head all I could think was “they don’t care” and the last sound I would hear was KAPOW!

The second time I was treated to a ride in a police car two people ran across a crowded bar and attacked me while I was walking out the door. All captured on video. Every moment proving my innocent caught on tape. While I sat in jail waiting for my lawyer, all I could think was even with video cell phones, and a high-priced lawyer don’t go to trail.

I’m black, people who attacked me and white ex-girlfriend. Find an Asian person and have them do the math.

Oh, my.

Tequila

and

pills

and

gun

Oh, my!

Sooooooo I’m off to see my maker, the wonderful maker of me.

But wait there’s more!

The Trump and King anniversary could easily be more than enough to trigger a trip to the laptop to begin a new article with the title Goodbye Cruel World.

But wait, there’s more.

Both events trigger happened on the same day. Yep, the 100 days of Trump’s reign and the 25 anniversary of the L.A. riots came to a head-on April 29th 2017.

If I was in a bad mental state that, a perfect shit storm could do some significant damage.

But wait there’s more. It was also my birthday. Remember people who suffer from severe depression are more likely to experience melancholy around the holidays birthdays etc.

I’m not whole but at no time over my birthday weekend did let my heart sink my resolve fade or my hope leave.

But I did cry. Crying now, but not for me.

I cry for the young bullied gay teenager about to hang himself. The sweet Muslim girl preparing to down a bottle of sleeping pills also bullied. The talented Latina model who sits by her husband’s hospital bed every day holding his hand. Alone in a room filled with his family who continues to pull rank on her. Her family?

They had other shit to do so they did not even show up.

I cry for Malcolm Jones. Retrieving a memory of that magic Thanksgiving dinner at my Aunt’s house a thousand years ago. Denys Cowan, Malcolm, my BFF Lee Speller my mentor and cousin William T, Williams all together in a place so filled with love and happiness I’d swear Al Green was hiding in the corner so he could steal a song title.

I cry for Paige who survived a brutal gang-rape, and like those, above choose me to confide in and then she did the bravest thing I’ve ever witness, she went public.

I cry for my cousin who could not be any closer to my heart if she was my daughter. Once she was as close to leaving this earth as I was.  Another cousin who came home one day went out to buy milk and has not been seen since. That was over 20 years ago.

She would never have left her kids. I know she’s dead. Everyone knows she’s dead.

There may have been a chance to find and save her. But back then lost black women did not appear on milk cartons. There was no 20/20 or Dateline episode on them.  Has it changed today?

Oh sure, if 20 or so black women go missing that gets a mention, and no, that is not a joke. So, I cry for Deedee.

Regina, Doris I tried to write about her a million times, but a million times I couldn’t get through it. However, she’s about to be celebrated by a character inspired by her as are you both on something wonderful you will see very soon.

Lastly, I weep for my sister Sharon.

The inspiration for Static’s sister Sharon Hawkins was my sister Sharon Davis. Left for dead in a vacant lot while people walked pass all night concerned more with the shortcut the lot provided than the girl laying there slowly bleeding out.

I didn’t know the teenagers who were bullied. They both read my Middleman column and reached out to me too – get this – tell me I wasn’t alone. My Latina friend kept me up all night with words of support on a day I was feeling sorry for myself.

Years before I did the same for her when she was fighting her demons. But, she did what she did while her husband was fighting for his life. That is gangster I talk a lot of shit, but I don’t know if I could have done that.

I saved nobody. Those above in a very real way helped to save me.

Depression doesn’t change you. It reveals you and those around you.

Suicide may not mean you want to die. It may mean you just don’t want to live.

Believe me – there’s a difference.

Thank you, my friends, for a wonderful birthday.

Next: Milestone is still dead.

The first person who gets what I just did with the above teaser I’ll give a prize, seriously.

Michael Davis: Jump

It’s the same voice thought that … you’re standing at a precipice and you look down, there’s a voice, and it’s a little quiet voice that goes, ‘Jump…’” • Robin Williams

Last week on Bleeding Cool someone posted a one-word comment meant as a commentary on my depression.

Jump.

I couple of years back I almost did.

I put a loaded gun to my head and pulled the trigger. There was no shell in the chamber as life, not luck, would have it. Life would have it before I cocked the slide I answered a phone call. A dear friend could tell the pain I was in made me promise to “stay here.”

That stopped me.

On my twenty-fifth birthday, a gun was put to my forehead. When my would-be murderer pulled the trigger, the gun jammed.

That saved me.

There’s a big difference between being saved and being stopped.

I didn’t then, nor do I now, want to die. I just wanted the pain to go away.

I write about my depression for the same reason Wayne Brady and Robin Williams and so many others talk about their depression because it may help someone else deal and help us cope.

Both Wayne and I are still fighting the good fight victories and setbacks along the way are part of the conflict we both know that. Robin lost his battle on August 11, 2014.

He spoke about his depression yet was likewise stricken by dementia with Lewy bodies, a type of dementia that gets much worse over time. I can’t imagine living with that kind of hell.

It pains me to think Robin endured it for as long as he did.

Yes, this is a pop culture website, and there’s an argument to be made my sort of personal reflection does not belong here. On the other hand, I write editorials and opinion columns and It’s because of my opinion, so many of you have found an easy target to voice your opinion.

Unless someone totally mispresents my point or is rude just for the sake of being rude, I take time responding to even the harshest of my critics, and I do so with respect.

In return, I mostly get people trying to school me on my swagger.

Telling a depressed person “jump” and isn’t something you screw around with those who do play with fire. If all you want when you visit sites like Bleeding Cool, ComicMix or any pop culture website is to discuss comics movies or whatever there is nothing at all wrong with that.

I get that. More over I’m not interested in a “very special” episode of the Muppets. I have zero interest in Kermit facing his battle with depression, grabbing a gun high, and tailing it up to the roof of 30 Rock intending to blow his brains out. So, yes, I get that.

If I did end up watching I doubt I’m posting on the Muppet website how I wanted to see Kermit shoot himself.

However, making such a comment while pretending you’re just scoring points in the hate Michael Davis game is cruel heartless uncalled for and can be dangerous.

I could care less about me, My focus has always been on young people.

Mental illness is still a big taboo in the African American community.

What happens if some black 15-year-old girl suffering from severe depression posted a reply in support of my struggle and got a “jump?” As is often the case what happens is she was subject to the troll pile on mob attack? Most likely nothing happens.

This, however, did happen the mother of such a young lady sent her daughters post to me directly. Having read some BC comments, she was smart enough to think better of having her daughter post at Bleeding Cool.

Say what you will about anything I write – even my depression if you’re sick of hearing about it. I get that; I get all of that. But for god’s sake have some regard for those who may read such as an act of cruelty directed toward them and on a bad day that’s all it takes.

If you don’t like what I write, don’t read it. Shit, I can’t stand fruit cake so why the hell would I ask for a slice, hate it even more, then ask for seconds?

If you’re of such character that you feel ok posting that type of darkness over a silly story about Lois Lane, I’d rather you take your business elsewhere. If this community continues to support this sort of stuff, I’ll go elsewhere.

It’s not worth it.

I didn’t out that person and have no idea if the comment is still up. More than likely was meant to be funny and not hurtful. If there, I’ll ask please that no hurtful comments or hateful rhetoric be directed at him or her. I reacted last week without thinking that the writer may be young, despondent or both.

Thanks, Sandy. I loved the note, enjoy the books.

 

Molly Jackson: Many Faces of Fandoms

Many Faces of Fandom

Fandoms can be a wonderful thing. People who are drawn together by love of a particular series, be it written/filmed/drawn/created in any way, can and have banded together to do some amazing things. I’ve written about how my fellow Browncoats (a.k.a. Firefly fans) and I have raised money for Equality Now. Supernatural fans have come together along with show star Jared Padalecki to raise money for nonprofit organization To Write Love on Her Arms. Gamers have gaming marathons for various charities throughout the world.

Most recently, Star Wars fans took to Twitter to help a dying fan see Episode 7. Sadly, Daniel passed away a few days after his screening. It may be right out of a movie script (ala Fanboys) but it was a touching gesture by fans, cast, crew, and SW franchise to make sure it happened.

With all this in mind, why am I telling you how awesome fans are? Because sadly, sometimes they aren’t awesome. Sometimes people ruin the friendship that grows out of fandom love. That has happened from the Steven Universe fans. A small group of SU fans appears to be growing increasingly mean to the point of brutal. Another fan documented the escalating issues, which have gotten out of control. Fans have been so vicious to other about opinions on the show, they are using rape and death threats. At this point, the ongoing abuses have caused someone to attempt to take their own life.

No fandom is worth any life. I can’t say that loud enough. I love being in fandom groups but I would give them all up in a heartbeat if it meant saving a life. My personal entertainment does not come at the expense of someone’s emotional wellbeing. If yours does, you need to reevaluate.

Steven Universe is a show a lot of friends have told me to watch. After this, I don’t think I can. Yes, I know I can watch a show without being involved with the fandom. But if I like it, I know I’ll want to see what’s out there. It might be unfair to judge a show by the actions of its active fan base. If this is the negativity surrounding a show that is described as all about love, understanding, and equality, then I need to stop before I start.

The real fear is that this can happen to any fan group because the internet is filled with people who think anonymity means no consequences. That since you don’t know the person on the other end in real life, they don’t really matter. Good rule of thumb to use: If you won’t say it to someone’s face, don’t say it on the internet. Be respectful to each other. That means you can still argue facts or provide criticism, but you don’t threaten someone bodily harm because they have a different opinion.

Imagine a world where every conversation on the internet is an engaging one for the right reasons. Imagine reading the comments only makes you cringe from bad grammar, not crude language. Don’t sit there and think it isn’t possible. Go make it possible by showing the world there are still decent human beings on the internet.

If you or someone you know is struggling with suicidal thoughts or actions, please seek help and assistance.

The Law Is A Ass

BOB INGERSOLL: THE LAW IS A ASS #339: INSPECTOR DANGER THE BREAKS THE CASE WIDE OPEN. OR DOES HE?

inspectordanger2I realize that most of you probably don’t have a deerstalker cap. So go get a couple of baseball caps. Wear one brim facing forward and the other brim facing backwards. You need the right visual. Because it’s time to look for the clues and solve a crime by matching wits with Inspector Danger.

Inspector Danger’s Crime Quiz is a comic strip produced by Werner Wejp-Olsen. In it the good inspector is presented with a weekly mystery to solve. Inspector Danger and his witless assistant Alfie – a foil who is so unobservant and dim that he makes the Nigel Bruce Watson look a positive luminary – investigate the crime. The strip provides you with all the clues you need to solve the crime before the Inspector. The Inspector solves the crime and his solution is printed upside down at the bottom of the strip. Meanwhile, Alfie stands around, and might as well have cartoon question marks floating around his head.

Now let me present you with the mystery from the December 8th installment of Inspector Danger’s Crime Quiz. We’ll see how well you do in solving the mystery.

Herbert Hudson, CEO of the recently bankrupt company Hudson Tech, drowned when his car drove off the pier and into the harbor. It looked like suicide. Hudson’s widow confirmed that Herbert had been depressed and threatened to take his own life. She wondered why he bothered to drive the ten to fifteen miles from his house all the way to the harbor to kill himself. She also came across as less-than-sympathetic when her chief concern was that all the money was gone and she, who was “used to a certain life style,” would soon be “walking the streets.”

The lab tech who examined Hudson’s car said the crime wasn’t suicide. The brake cables had been cut so it was murder. Apparently, the police department’s budget had been cut too. If the lab tech was talking about brake cables, his police lab’s stocked with really old reference books. Automobile brakes don’t use cables anymore. They’re all hydraulic. Have been since around the 1940s. Yes, the emergency brake still uses a cable, but if that cable had been cut, the car’s regular brakes would still have worked. Hudson’s car could have stopped on a dime and spotted you a nickle.

Unless …

So Hubert Hudson drove his 1934 Hudson Eight into the drink after the brake cables had been cut. (Notice how skillfully I made a play on words and saved the story?) Now the good Inspector Danger was investigating Hudson’s murder.

Hudson’s attorney said Hudson’s widow had money as Hudson left a $5,000,000 insurance policy with her as the beneficiary. The attorney also said the contract had an anti-suicide clause http://www.businessdictionary.com/definition/suicide-clause.html, so the death benefit wouldn’t be paid if the death was a suicide. But that clause wouldn’t apply here, as the death resulted from a murder.

Inspector Danger paced around in circles for a panel. He didn’t think the wife was mechanically inclined enough to have cut the brake cables. He wondered whether she had someone helping her. Then he came up with his solution. Now while you read, my spoiler warning, think about the clues and see if you can identify the criminal.

SPOILER WARNING!

I am about to reveal Inspector Danger’s solution. So, if you don’t want to know it before you figure out the solution yourself, stop reading. End of WARNING, here comes the solution.

Inspector Danger deduced that Herbert Hudson did commit suicide. If someone else had cut the brake cables before Hudson started on his trip, he wouldn’t have been able to stop his car during the ten to fifteen mile drive and would have crashed into something long before he ever reached the harbor. Inspector Danger figured that Hudson drove to the harbor, then cut the brake cables himself just before he drove his car into the water. Hudson wanted to make his suicide look like a murder so his wife could collect the $5,000,000 death benefit. The solution also told us that Inspector Danger left the case “unsolved,” so that Hudson’s wife could collect the death benefit. “Chivalry over duty.”

So did you spot the criminal? If you said Herbert Hudson, you’re right. Kind of. If you said his crime was suicide, you’re wrong. Contrary to popular belief, it’s not against the law to commit suicide. In the United States, the laws making suicide a crime were abolished long ago http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Suicide_legislation. Moreover, even when those laws were in effect, it wasn’t really against the law to commit suicide. It was against the law to attempt suicide. But if you committed suicide, you’d be dead. The police wouldn’t be able to arrest or prosecute you even though they literally had the corpus delicti http://legal-dictionary.thefreedictionary.com/Corpus+delicti.

Let’s try another crime. Remember, Hudson committed suicide but made it look like a murder so that his wife would be able to collect a $5,000,000 death despite his policy’s anti-suicide clause. Voila, another crime; insurance fraud.

Now, I don’t know in what state the good Inspector operates, other than a general state of confusion, so, I’ll use the general definition of insurance fraud. Insurance fraud occurs when someone does a “duplicitous act” so that he or she can obtain an improper payment from an insurance company. Usually, the person collecting the proceeds of the insurance policy is the person committing the duplicitous act, but it can be someone else. If a doctor helps a patient fake an injury, so that the patient can swindle an insurance company, then the doctor is an aider and abettor and equally guilty of insurance fraud, even if only the patient collected the proceeds. In our story, Hudson committed insurance fraud by making a suicide look like a murder, so that his wife could collect an improper death benefit to which she was not entitled.

Of course, Hudson’s dead. He can’t be arrested or prosecuted. So, calling him the criminal is a little unsatisfying. Where’s the justice in the story, if the criminal can’t be prosecuted? Sure Logan and Brisco would be kept busy, but what would Jack McCoy get to do?

How about Mrs. Hudson? Was she guilty of insurance fraud for filing a claim for a death benefit to which she was not really entitled? No. There’s no indication that Mrs. Hudson knew her husband had faked a murder. She honestly thought he was murdered. So when she filed a claim for the death benefit – not if but when, because you know someone as mercenary as her wouldn’t leave seven figures uncollected – when she filed a claim, she wouldn’t know it was fraudulent. She wouldn’t be guilty of insurance fraud. If the insurance company learned the truth, it could deny her the benefit, but it couldn’t have her prosecuted for insurance fraud, because she did not knowingly commit a duplicitous act.

Which leads us to question that still hasn’t been answered: A crime was committed so who was the real criminal in the story? There’s got to be one someone somewhere who can take the fall.

If you said Inspector Danger, you win the prize.

Inspector Danger knew Hudson committed suicide. He knew Mrs. Hudson had no legal claim to the death benefit on her husband’s policy. But he kept this information secret so that Mrs. Hudson could collect the $5,000,000, anyway. He aided and abetted Mr. Hudson in committing insurance fraud by letting Mrs. Hudson collect proceeds which he knew she was not entitled to collect.

So, let’s haul the not-so-good Inspector off to jail and put Alfie in charge of the investigations. I can see the strip now. A crime is committed. Alfie stumbles around for several panels without the slightest idea who the criminal is. Then he stands on his head to reads the week’s solution at the bottom of the page, but still has no idea who to arrest.

And we could say that Alfie never meta criminal that he could catch.