The Psychiatric Institute of Arts & Letters

Cool name huh? It's the name of a blog whose latest article looks into therapeutic uses of word play, and letter manipulation.

To quote:

"What power do words really have? What, after all, is in a name?

To answer this question, I consulted Dr. Caleb Dorado Hydes: psychologist, cognitive scientist, and… anagrammatologist. When confronted with the mysteries of the human mind, what are we to think of a guy who plays with the alphabet – and calls it science?

“Oh, I’ve heard it before,” says Dr. Hydes. “People say to me, your profession doesn’t exist! I’ve got nothing but a crappy HMO that doesn’t even cover a trip to a real shrink! What the hell is an anagrammatologist going to do for me? There are so many misconceptions about what anagrammatology is all about, and I’m sick to death of people confusing me with those damned scientologists.”

Dr. Hydes explains: “It’s simple. Rearranging letters of the alphabet is the quickest way to transform a negative thought form into a positive one.” He’s created dozens of anagrams for the depressed and sometimes suicidal patients he sees in his private practice, words which he keeps on index cards for handy reference. His favorite therapeutic anagram comes from a conversation he had once with a patient on a suicide hotline. When the patient cried out, “I want to die,” Dr. Hydes exclaimed, “Wait! Die not!” and quickly realized what had happened.
Full article

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As you can imagine this was good news for BiPolar G, and went some way towards easing the guilt of having spent 90% of the weekend immersed in a new wave of WordArt. Man, I love this stuff. You could lock me in a cell for a year and as long as I had Macromedia Flash, Coffee and some music, I'd be the happiest guy on the planet. Oh, and blog access.

Which brings me to the real situation. Monday fuckhead morning! No creative stuff here. Dry, boring, bland, sucking financial stuff. I'm really struggling to get back into it. Worst part is the discipline. In your own business not pitching up is a snitch.

Maybe those Lotto numbers I was given will come in. I'm running 2 sets of Lotto numbers at pres. - the one I was recently given and the one I dreamt up in June's mania-land. In all honesty I'm more optimistic about the manic formula. I had so many signs coming from The One, (quite a few of them relating to certain irrational numbers) that I chose a very special combo of numbers and gave The One an ultimatum: "Hey dude, if you really trying to get me to devote my life to your cause - this is the FINAL, IRREFULTABLE, ABSOLUTE sign. Give me some cash so that I can serve you properly instead of burying 3/4 of my life in arbitrary, meaningless crud."

So far, I've been ignored, but you know what they say: "Without your line in the water - you can't catch a fish". So when The One actually does decide to co-operate and BiPolar G is shortly thereafter hospitalised because he has a 100% unshakable conviction that he is a (note, not THE) chosen one - You saw it here!!

And now, off to some WordArt. I mean shit, it's only the second week of the year and what's one day anyway???