Wil Wheaton Quotes

Don´t be a dick

They all hop into the turbolift, and Picard says, “Hey, I think it’s great that you guys know each other, because it’s important for my key officers to be familiar with each other’s abilities.” Troi says, “We are, sir,” and Riker and Picard subtly high-five each other as the doors close.

I guess that the thing people say to me all the time is, “Were the leeches real?” They then turn to their frat guy friends and snicker, like they’re the first person to ever say that to me. I wait for a second, so they think they’ve really cut me down, and I say, “Yeah. Ask your mom about my scar.” Finding new and preferably disgusting ways to degrade a friend’s mother is always held in high regard.

Q is like a stupid Internet Troll; he makes some strawman accusation against Picard, Picard refutes his argument with logic and reason, and Q just changes the terms of the argument, all the while enjoying the attention he’s getting. But does anyone create alt.q.die.die.die? No, of course not. Life is so fucking unfair.

we in America have done a lot to help people who live with mental illness, we have not done nearly enough to make it okay for our fellow travelers on the wonky brain express to reach out and accept that help.

your dream is, you deserve to realize it.

Back on the Enterprise, Riker heads into the holodeck to meet up with Data, who we learn can’t whistle like a human, wants to be human, and is consequently called “Pinocchio” by Riker. The whole bit really wants to be sweet and a little funny, but it ends up being kind of lame.

I also know that I’ve been letting depression make me feel like shit for the last month or so, and I know that depression lies, so I’m probably just fixated on all the worst case stuff, and not paying enough attention to the awesome stuff.” And the second those words came out of my mouth, it was like someone cast Dispel Depression.* I felt the weight of it lift off me.

but one of the things that drew me to science fiction and then into fantasy was how it rewarded me for using my imagination. And it wasn’t just using my imagination to picture myself on a space station or riding a dragon;* it was using my imagination to visualize and believe in a world where the things that made me weird and awkward would actually make me cool and valuable.

Because my brain is broken. There’s all sorts of interesting medical and neurochemical reasons for it, and I’ve learned everything I can about them,* but knowing all of that isn’t enough to make my brain magically start processing serotonin and norepinephrine and dopamine in a balanced way,

It’s hard to accept that the genetic lottery gives us strengths, maybe even a superpower or two, but that it also gives us vulnerabilities.

After the probe does its thing, the Jarada make contact: they want to talk to the Captain, and are offended that they can’t immediately speak to the person in charge, which would explain why the Jarada destroyed every planet in the Dell Technical Support system.

It’s fun to win, sure, but if you only have fun when you win, you completely lose the joy of just playing a game, and being part of a team that works together. You’re not going to win every game you play, so if winning is the only way you have fun, you’re going to have a bad time pretty often.

What I mean is, if you’re feeling overwhelmed by your internal monologue, and the voice delivering it is no longer a friendly one — please — don’t be afraid to ask for help. One of the most insidious lies mental illness tells us is that asking for help, or taking medication to get better, means that we are weak. It means that we are a failure, and we somehow deserve to suffer. This. Is. Bullshit. You don’t deserve to suffer. You are not weak. You are not a failure. Your brain, like mine, needs help to keep its profoundly complicated machinery working. Depression lies, and when it tells you these lies, you can look right back into its stupid face and say, “Shut up. Wil Wheaton told me that it’s okay to get help, and he pretended to live in outer space, so he outranks you.

As the sun set over the Golden Gate Bridge, I looked out onto America: once, the land of the free. Now, the land of the zombies.