CHAPTER 8 (minute 1:45 – minute 2:04. And seven seconds.)
TOPICS COVERED: Not vaccinating; Not being on the grid; Not being a prophet; Neglect Is a Hairstyle; Native American music; Narcotics; Nights out; Nanowatts of solar power; Nicole and Joe have rights (Maybe you’ve already heard).
– Why are they still talking?
– Why am I still watching?
– Why do they keep saying they are going to stop…and STILL NOT STOPPING?
– Why does Nicole think it is any kind of defense to state that her kids would rather lie on bare dirt ground than in their own “house”?
– The world is not flat. You heard it here first.
– Nicole and Joe are not hateful people. Again, first.
– CPS vaccinated three of the Naugler children against court orders. I didn’t know there was a vaccine for that. Maybe it’s still in the trial phase. BaBOOM!
– The best way to prepare for the temporary inconvenience of losing electric power in a storm is to resign yourself to living with that same inconvenience both before the storm and after the storm, and making that inconvenience permanent, since there are bound to be more storms down the road. Won’t you look like a genius!
– Nicole describes her hair as dreadlocks, dread locks, or knotty hair. Or did she mean “naughty hair?” I believe the formal term for that would be “oppositionally-defiant” hair.
– They eat the goats. Some of them. The ones Nicole doesn’t like.
– Yes, they will be doing this again, although they don’t specify what “this” is: Chatting online? Sitting in the van? Scratching? Avoiding your questions? Avoiding their children? Avoiding Reality? Rebranding as Flaming Trollfest LIVE!!! for 2018? Will it be before or after they read the comments and write down everyone’s names?
Grins ‘n’ Giggles:
Joe’s Jokes: (Did you know Joe can tell jokes, and we can’t stop him?)
“My head is itchy….Naaah, just kidding!”
(Well, he thinks it’s funny).
And now, for the first and last time, Grins ‘n’ Giggles introduces Nicole’s Riddle me this!
Q: How do you gain control by giving up power?
A: By going off-grid!
Q: How do you go off-grid but still use the Internet?
A: Kiss my ass!
Q: Nicole, how can we kiss your ass if Lisa has it?
A: Please consult my previous postings disclosing Ms. Luthi’s residence including address, phone number, driving directions, list price, number of bedrooms, and satellite photos of both street and aerial views. I’d post them again but my toddler fed the printouts to my dog.
Q: Nicole, does this mean Lisa will have to give you next year’s birthday spanking?
A: All right, that’s it. You’re blocked.
I’d like to leave you with a few inspirational words from Joe and Nicole. That way I can run away before you realize you’re stuck with them….
“We want people to know you can do it.
[I’m still waiting for evidence that YOU can do it, Joe.]
You can live a more simple, basic, minimalist lifestyle to get out of the stress and the mundaneness of the culture that we live in.
[Shit in a bucket, or take a world cruise…you decide.]
You can do it with ten kids.
[Just not twelve.]
You can do it on a shoestring budget.
[By not including the actual shoes].
You can do it without government.
[Guess that means no internet, then.]
That’s a good thing. Free yourself.
[Because the VERY BEST WAY to get free is to let Nicole tell you how to think and what to do.]
As for me, I’m just glad to be free of this chat. Thanks to all the readers for not throwing tomatoes. Thanks, satisfied readers (you know who you are), for your compliments. Most of all, thanks, Sally, for giving me space to play in your awesome blog this week. I happily turn the stage back over to you.
And I pause here to allow everyone to give Sheer Luck a well-deserved round of applause. This is awesome. My sincere thanks. I had to wipe away tears from laughing so hard in order to post this.
Some of you may have thought you were seeing the light at the end of the tunnel when I listed the time segment of Chapter 6 as 1:30 – 1:45.
Alas, that was in error. Chapter 6 runs from 1:15 – 1:30 and Chapter 7 runs from 1:30 – 1:45. It’ll all be over soon, I promise. – SheerLuck
CHAPTER 7 (minutes 1:30 – 1:45)
TOPICS COVERED: Virtues of Polygamy; Views on wife-sharing; Voluntary education; Vaccination; Visit with the fetus (“she’s very soft”); Valuable dog breeds; Very special birthday traditions; Vile Rumors; and Viral trolls.
– Do Nicole and Joe realize their chat is being bombarded by trolls?
– Do Nicole and Joe realize that by now the number of people taking this chat seriously is less than or equal to two?
– Why is Nicole’s fetus soft? Will it toughen up after a few muay thai classes?
– What is going through Nicole’s mind when Joe gives her a green light for future extramarital action?
– Viewer: “Do you shower?” Truthfully, at this point, will we be satisfied with ANY answer Nicole and Joe offer in response?
– You can’t teach ANYBODY. Ya gots tuh learn ’em.
– Polygamy: It’s In the Bible!
– Education pioneers Joe and Nicole Naugler ESTABLISHED their Unschool Method in response to the prevailing traditional unschool practices and their narrow-minded tendency to focus on Actual Education.
– Trolls can be boring! Who knew?
– Math is learned through construction. Which is why the math whiz kids always look so buff.
– There is no truth to any rumors floating around about the children. And Nicole should know. She started them.
– The Nauglers bestow birthday spankings upon one another. It’s nice to know that, while they don’t do Christmas trees, Easter eggs, or Trick-or-Treat, they still make time for the most cherished of all holiday traditions.
– You have a greater chance of being beat up by police than contracting polio. OK, wait…I don’t want to generalize. Joe was only giving these odds for members of his family.
– Joe’s favorite dog breeds include the Great Pyrenees and the Pretty Good Border Collie. As working dogs they play a vital role on the homestead that would otherwise have to be done solely by the children.
– Joe also likes Boxers (For all the ladies out there).
– Joe also likes bully breeds in general. We are not surprised.
– Many people get this confused, so let’s review: Some oysters have pearls, while some clams have crabs.
Grins ‘n’ Giggles:
The light slowly dawning as Nicole and Joe begin to suspect some of these questions are not entirely in earnest….
Nicole: “You’re just getting boring!” (That’s to the trolls, not Joe.)
Joe’s Jokes! (Back Despite Popular Demand!)
Troll: “Can you smack your wife?”
Joe: “No, but I’ll give her a kiss.” (Joe kisses Nicole on the cheek.) Hold on – that was actually clever! Too bad I had to wait nearly two hours into the act for that little zinger. I’m not really happy about the 2-drink minimum, either, since all they had was Japanese water. Next time I’m going to Hardee’s.
One of the things I noticed most after leaving religion behind was that the fundamentalist Christianity of my youth gives its adherents a sense of superiority. As a group, they are, of course, not superior at all to anyone. They are generally not as educated or as successful financially as their non-religious peers. Their children aren’t any better, and in many cases, have much more negative outcomes. Their divorce rate is higher than that of non-religious people, which seems to translate into unhappier relationships.
But their religion assures them that they are special. There are several different flavors of this, depending on the exact sect being discussed. For instance, Calvinists believe that they are absolutely chosen by “God” (they call this “election”) and that people like me weren’t and are just destined for hell no matter what we do. Others, the Arminian sort, are more about “whosoever will may come,” but think they were the wise ones who chose to “come to Jesus.”
And it’s really obvious, this sense of entitlement and superiority, when it’s expressed to somebody like who has left. There is positive glee when they tell me that I’m headed for hell. They are delighted about it.
It’s almost impossible to convince these people that their fantasy is a fantasy. My mother will die a True Believer. It has given her life meaning. Without Jesus, she would have to deal with the fact that she has sacrificed so much, and gone without so many things, and spent so much effort and work for nothing at all, and I don’t think it’s possible for her to do that and remain sane. At this point, she probably doesn’t have the mental capacity left to do it anyway, but her situation is shared by many others.
Being a “child of the King” is their identity. They cannot give it up. Special creation means that somebody “out there” is in charge. Without it, where in the hell would we all be?
They believe strongly that if we, for example, end up in nuclear war because of the moron in the White House, well, that’s “God’s will.” They find comfort in that.
But mostly, they believe that they, personally, are special; that the guy who is in charge of everything knows all about them personally; and that he is arranging every detail of their entire lives. They will deny this, but they believe they are better than everyone else. They cover this up by saying, “I’m not perfect, just forgiven,” and shit like that, but believe me, they think they’re better/smarter/more humble/more worthy.
This old building was part of the complex where I lived for three months in 1967. It didn’t have broken out windows then. It was full of people, mentally ill people.
This is a part of the enormous place that was the State Mental Hospital on Bull Street in Columbia, South Carolina, and it’s where I did my psych rotation as a student nurse. We lived in a nurse’s residence which included not only our rooms but classrooms in the basement and a kitchen. I remember sneaking down to the kitchen late at night sometimes to raid the cabinets and refrigerators for snacks.
We did most of our training in what was called the Admission Building, where newly-committed patients stayed for the first 30 days (I think – it’s hard to remember exactly after so many years). At the end of that period, they were evaluated and either discharged or held for another 30 days. And finally, if they didn’t improve enough to be discharged, and it was felt they required long-term care, the patient was sent to the chronic wards.
We spent very little time on those chronic wards and I was really glad because it was essentially a warehouse full of mentally ill people without good drugs and with little treatment available.
There was also a separate building for the criminally insane, which we never visited for obvious security reasons.
The hospital was closed for good in the 1980s, in favor of smaller, community-based mental health treatment. I’m not sure that those folks are better off now. The sorts of people we had were those that you see now as homeless people living on the streets.
Anyway, during my stay there, we were assigned a patient or two every time we went to the ward (several days per week, and we often accompanied the patients on outings and to church on Sundays – you can see the church in the photo above). We were given access to their charts and expected to know everything in the world about them, and we were quizzed on it. And we were expected to interact with our patients in the day room.
This could be a challenge.
The day room was a large room filled with people and with a television going all the time. Conversation was difficult at best.
But I remember one patient in particular. Funny how I’ve never forgotten him. He was an older man (since I was so young, he was probably in his forties), tall and thin. And he was very, very out of it. He had managed to get the staff to give him a mop head. Not the mop stick, just the stringy mop head.
He wore it on his head all the time.
He walked around the day room constantly (which is more than likely why he was thin), talking to himself. Trying to have a conversation with him was almost impossible. He would look at you, acknowledge your presence briefly and then be gone back into his private inner world.
His diagnosis, which was pretty obvious with about two minutes of observation, was paranoid schizophrenia.
Schizophrenia (literally “split mind”) embodies a break with reality. Schizophrenics often hear voices, or have all sorts of delusions, and the folks who have the paranoid version of it think somebody is after them, or out to get them.
Paranoia is one of the very common things you see in an acute psych ward. Another is a fixation on religion, often wild and odd and sometimes obscure.
This particular patient had them both. He was getting messages from “God” via his mop head which is why it was so important to him. He paced all around the perimeter of the large area, carrying on animated conversations with the “God” he heard that we couldn’t hear.
He was special. “God” talked to him. “God” didn’t bother with the rest of us. Only him.
And all that, which I know looks like rambling, leads me to this.
Mental illness is not illness the way appendicitis is illness. I know that people try to picture it that way, but it’s not.
You either have appendicitis or you do not. There are degrees of severity for sure. Some cases of appendicitis are mild enough to respond to antibiotic treatment and others require surgery, but it’s still either an infected appendix or it is not.
You either have diabetes or you don’t.
But all of us are a wee bit crazy. All of us exhibit slight personality disorders.
Ever lock the doors before bed, and then get in bed and suddenly become obsessed with the idea that maybe you didn’t and get back up and go check? That’s a very mild version of what obsessive-compulsive disorder is like.
Ever experience depression for no obvious reason, short-lived, or a sudden euphoria without discernible cause? That’s a very mild version of what it’s like to be bipolar.
It’s a big question: what is “normal”? What does that mean?
The mop-head wearer in the mental hospital was hearing “God” talking to him. He was determined to be insane. My mother talks to “God” regularly. My mother also believes passionately that “God” answers her. Yet she’s never been considered insane.
What’s the difference?
It’s in degree.
Mop-head Guy was delusional. My mother is delusional. But Mop-head Guy’s delusions interfered with his daily life and his ability to interact with people to the point that he simply couldn’t function. My mother’s delusions haven’t. They’ve caused her a lot of unnecessary trouble, including a divorce, but she’s never been considered even slightly “insane.”
When your obsession over whether or not you locked the doors or your emotional mood swings become so severe that you can’t hold down a job, you can’t get through a day without forgetting to eat, your ability to function becomes seriously impaired, then you are deemed to have a “mental illness” or “personality disorder.” (There are only fine distinctions between the two terms, and no agreement about what they mean.)
So, you can be considered weird, or eccentric, and if you can function in your daily life, nobody is gonna describe you as having any sort of psychological pathology. Get to the point that you’re walking around wearing a mop-head and can’t hold a conversation with a real person for more than a few seconds, and you’ll find yourself either homeless in Chicago or in a mental institution.
The New York Times (above) describes a whole group of people with paranoid delusions. These people, who call themselves “targeted individuals,” would have been just considered a bit odd back before the internet came along and probably would have continued to function okay without treatment of any sort, but because of the internet, they are no longer alone.
They have found the other people who have similar paranoid delusions, and formed nice little clubs and groups and stuff where they feed each other.
They believe that, for one reason or another, the government is out to get them.
I found this positively fascinating, and did a little looking around, and fell into the rabbit hole that is the world of the “targeted individual.” They look normal, don’t they? (Video in the NYT article)
Here are some quotes from some of their websites.
Terrorist Gang Stalking is a tool employed by fascists who seek to quash freedom of speech along many other Constitutional rights. Please join us in the fight to expose and stop this insidious crime.
With the variety of digital cameras available (cell phones, spy cameras, etc.), you can take photos and videos either overtly or covertly. Both have advantages. If you are trying to annoy the perp’s, taking their photo in an obvious way, might be a good method. On the other hand, if you’re trying to document their actions, a covert spy-camera approach might be better.
Once caught in the web of the gang stalking Program, a target is subject to a full court press that invades every aspect of their life and is calculated to destroy that person. The process is highly formulaic programmatic, systematic and systemic. Key to the destruction of a gang stalking target is a full penetration and infiltration of their environs, including their constant surveillance and harassment in their home, workplace/school mobbing of the target, and target’s isolation from friends and family members.
These kind of claims run the gamut from the couple who claimed that people in town didn’t like them (because they tried to force a couple to sell them property when the couple didn’t want to sell at all) so they all drove past their house and beeped their horns (I’m serious, this made the national news), to people who believe that government somehow does “astral” examinations of them which seems to be something like alien abductions.
Trying to convince these people that they are having problems with mental illness and delusional behavior is pretty much fruitless, because they have banded together and insist that anyone who disagrees with them or who tries to convince them they are bananas is “in on it.”
So what does all this, fascinating as it is, have to with Mop-head Guy or my mother and her religion?
It has to do with being special, with having meaning and purpose.
Mop-head Guy was special because “God” spoke to him directly in his head. My mother believes she is special because Jesus is directing her every step personally.
And these people, who are suffering from delusional psychoses to some degree, think they are special too. They are “targeted individuals.” Targeted. You poor sap, you aren’t. You don’t matter as much as they do. They have taken a stand against evil government, or they know something that would be damaging. They are preparing to expose the corruption that exists in their town, county, state, nation, and the local officials/US government officials are hell-bent to do anything possible to silence them.
The couple with the honking horns seem to have never considered that perhaps they just pissed off a whole pile of people in a smallish town and that they simply aren’t liked at all. Instead, they see themselves as victimized. They see the dislike as organized. It has to be.
Otherwise, they have to face the fact that they are most probably just assholes.