💰 Money for nothing! 🤑 Money changes everything. 💸 Everything counts in large amounts. 💷 Where can I find compassion in the midst of a recession? 🪙 Phoole & the Gang’s Money Show is 2 hours of tunes in many subgenres about money, its absence, and the perils of acquiring and losing it. It will include tunes by many Phooligan favorites like Skeewiff, Mr. B the Gentleman Rhymer, Freak Power (that's with Ashley Slater of course), and Count Bass D, and Knower, and a lot of acts you like, like Madonna and Adam Ant and the Beatles, and maybe even a few acts who will be new to you!
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Thank you for loving and re-loving Phoole & the Gang!
Last week's show is here for your hear-holes - thank you for loving it and sharing it! Someone you know might need to be in the Gang or need to hunker online in the PhooleOut Shelter. Get 'em there!
I sure like punching digital targets
[The following is a little bit of something that was a part of the essay that went to Phoole Patreon patrons this week at patreon.com/phoole - intrigued? Click, explore, consider to join!]
Punching continues to be my first activity of most days! I am proud of myself for getting up early and punching the crap out of digital targets in virtual reality for at least half an hour at least five days a week in the Les Mills BodyCombat VR fitness game for the Oculus Quest 2. The exercise is intense and massively gratifying. I don't receive anything in exchange for linking to this game. I just like it! I think you might too, if you've got the thing it's on and want to give it a try.
CPTSD THING: One thing I find curious about it is the unbidden thought process I experience when the virtual coaches in the game, who are just programmed to say things, praise my performance in the game.
First, I relish the rush that I get from a compliment from an authority figure.
Then, I swiftly berate myself for enjoying a compliment from, essentially, an inanimate object designed to motivate me to engage more with a thing.
But this week I added a third step.
Thanks to Pete Walker's very great book, Complex PTSD: From Surviving to Thriving, I now think about the fact that my inner critic is also an inanimate object.
It's not a person. My inner critic is not a guy.
My inner critic is just programming.
Rachel and Dan in the game are...just programming.
It is okay if I want to listen to Rach and Dan more often than I want to listen to the voice of my dead mom. It really, really is.
It's even more okay if I want to enjoy Dan and Rach cheering me on as I punch the crap out of my inner critic.
Social media is so neither
Social media just hurtles into abyss-below-abyss, and I'm thinking about ceasing posting my weekly HEY I AM BEGGING YOU TO REMEMBER I DO A SHOW posts. I'm betting these posts will not really be missed, because I'm pretty sure The Algorithms are burying them so deep beneath mantles of paid-promo content and clicksterbatory doomer reposts that only four or three people per platform are even seeing them anyway.
If you are a person who relies on FarceBark or InstaGran or The New String Thing to remind you that Friday happens weekly, it is time to turn away from the ZuckerBorg and just tune in every Friday from 6 to 8pm Central US time, and the links for tuning in are always and forever at phoole.com/gang for you. You can just do it, if it fits your lifestyle and timezone!
However, it's not on at a great time for everyone, so if you miss it, don't be sad; you can consume it whenever at phoole.com/rewind, and if you want to chat about it while you watch, you can chat about it, if you like, at phoole.com/discord, and maybe I'll pop in there and share in repartée and bonhomie and other French ideas with you. IT COULD HAPPEN.