I miss Regis. I feel like he was one of the last real broadcasters on TV. Like, you could be producing a show and just drop him in with no notice and it would be fine. “Regis, thank God you’re here, our host just started projectile vomiting and we’re live in 10 minutes.” Doesn’t matter what the show is, a parade, interviewing young children or a Nobel prize winner, game show, sports broadcast, breaking news, he could do it and it wouldn’t be obvious he’d been on his way to the dentist ten minutes earlier.
So dreams are like level 200: your brain evolutionarily built a venting and coping mechanism that makes it invent fictional universes in which it pretends to live while you are sleeping.
What's the level where I vent by creating an imaginary alternate universe of whatever fandom I'm engaged with at the moment where my self-insert is one of key characters and all the trauma gives him cool abilities?
My go-to is a fantasy in which I give an unfiltered speech to graduating seniors at a university, explaining in detail the day to day bullshit they will be dealing with once they enter the workforce.
After hearing about how big a flop the Borderlands movie was, I decided to watch it.
It was so abysmally bad I took psychic damage. Days latter I'm still wondering how anyone could have made those script decisions unless they were actively sabotaging the project.
I was unable to sleep one night so I starting making a YouTube video about how terrible the movie was. I'd say I'm at level 53.
What level is it where you consider making a lemmy post about it but you imagine all the replies and what people would tell you so it just kinda ends up working itself out without even having to type.