Critics call it “a head-first assault” on the First Amendment. Advocates believe it will slow our national descent into narcissism, selfishness, and spandex. Love it or hate it, the SWAT (Stop Writing Annoying Twaddle) Program is here to stay. Brainchild of Reginald Klaxon, Secretary of Psychology, SWAT is an aggressive response to what social critic and handball champion Chance Bazinga has memorably described as, “a bubbling broth of primordial ooze, an orgy of raw id pouring forth across forest and field, an endless outpouring of detritus, meaningless minutia, and abominable, disingenuous self-aggrandizement on a scale unknown since the waning days of the Roman Empire, wafting the perfume of decomposition through cacophonous boulevards and abandoned chicken coops. I refer, of course, to the Internet, and more specifically, the practice known as blogging.” Secretary Klaxon stunned the White House Press Corps when, before beginning the SWAT announcement conference, he asked aids to remove every electronic communications device in the room and deposit them in a brine-filled pickle barrel reserved for the occasion. Now assured of undivided attention he began thusly.

When we gaze fondly backwards and survey the expansive history of medicine, certain names come to mind immediately. Hippocrates, Philip Syng Physick, and Donovan Leitch, who popularized the practice of bloodletting before going on to become a folk singer of some renown. When the focus is on mental health, there can be no debate that Freud, Jung, and Lafayette Ronald Hubbard are elbowing each other for center stage. But there is a world even loftier than these, harder to define and understand. It is a world where art meets science, science meets commerce, commerce meets art and confusion doesn’t merely reign, it pours. I am referring of course to the incomprehensible, Byzantine maze of human activity loosely referred to as fundraising. Until recently, conversations about healthcare funding led inevitably to the great Kaiser Permanente. Kaiser Permanente, third son of Kaiser Wilhelm II, made healthcare history by creating the nation’s first, physician-centric Integrated Health Network predicated on an HMO model. Mr. Permanente could not be matched when it came to putting dollars to work in the service of healthcare, some would say wellness. Then came Susan G. Komen®.

I’ve been writing Funny In The Head for some time now, and, as you might imagine, knowing you, as I don’t, writing a humor column for a mental health website is not the easiest hoe to row, if you follow my wake, and if you do, bravo! Week after week I am deluged with emails from irate readers who prattle on interminably with protestations of indignation, hurt feelings, and shock. Surprisingly, the vast majority of them are from schizophrenics. Here is a recent example.

Marketers today are obsessed with “branding” which, in the most general of terms, is the mental picture a prospect or customer has of a company. For example, when you say “McDonald’s” I think of a diabolical clown whose red shoes skate across a smear of grease. Others might think of inedible food in bright red boxes served up by awkward, angry teenagers dreaming of their next tattoos. Companies may project any brand they like, but their actual brand is the image and opinion others have of them.

According to a recent survey, 90% of surveys referenced on the Internet are entirely fictitious. According to an entirely different, completely credible, survey, 87% of all information posted on the Internet is “useless, stupid, false, and/or toxic.” Survey author, Chumley Entwhistle, Dean Of Psychology at Basingstoke University, expanded. When he was finished expanding, he explained. “All of us remember the first time our parents caught us shooting heroin. We said, ‘But all the kids are doing it.’ To which our parents replied, ‘If all the kids were setting fire to their hair, would you do that too?’ After a considerable amount of soul searching we realized that we would.

Readers often ask, “Alistair, don’t you have any shame?” I am happy to answer them, “No, no I don’t.” Before you dismiss this remark as glib braggadocio, let me quickly add that shame has a very particular role in the lives of mentally ill people. After all, it was Taz Mopula who observed, “Guilt is when you feel badly about something you have done; shame is when you feel badly about something you are.” Gentle reader, not much in life hurts more than feeling horrible about your very self, your identity, your being. So when I say that I have no shame I mean that I have burned through every scrap of embarrassment I ever felt about being bipolar. I have acted out maniacally in the spotlight’s naked glare and looking back upon it does not raise a blush – quite the contrary, now I wear these memories like medals, battle scars I paid for very dearly.

Did you know that Socrates suffered from agoraphobia? Did you know that Kim Kardashian is credited with inventing narcissism? Did you know that Nostradamus committed suicide on Easter just so he could get credit for predicting the day of his own death? If you said, “Yes” to any or all of these statements you might want to consider your sources because they are absolutely not true. (Paris Hilton invented narcissism.) The world of mental illness is a quagmire of myths, misperceptions, and odd facts. So, instead of our regular cerebral deconstruction of themes relevant to the mental health community, let’s have a little fun and examine some of them.

Summer vacation season is fast upon us and with it visions of lazy afternoons stretched out on an oversized beach towel, savoring a hypnotic symphony of wave upon wave smashing sand in accordance with an ancient, cosmic groove, and diving headfirst into a pleasantly refreshing book. As luck would have it, I am pleased to introduce the First Annual Funny in The Head Recommended Summer Reading List, designed exclusively for people who, when they’re all not here, are not all there.

It’s that time of year again, time for the mentally ill in our midst to pack up the dysfunctional family and set out on what it known, with charming imprecision, as “the summer vacation”. These excursions into extravaganzas of unfulfilled expectations, simmering like gumbo on a sultry Louisiana evening before appearance as fully-formed resentments destined to plague psyches for decades to come, always seem to begin with an air of insouciance and breezy optimism based necessarily on our ability to forget what happened last year. We sally forth, armed to the gills with digital devices which, we believe, will simplify our lives rather than dominate them with unintended and unnecessary complexity, as they actually do; the very opposite of what one imagines for a vacation since the word, simply, means to remove one’s self from the pressures of normal reality – not take it with you.

Much has been written about mental illness among human beings, but almost nothing about mind maladies among those of the canine persuasion, aka man’s best friend, or, more popularly, dogs.