So the judge decrees that he become my butler.

I’m still rereading Seven Eves by Neal Stephenson.  It remains fascinating.  It’s about our incredible human spirit.  That something inside all of us that makes our species survive.  I love that the story is brutally honest in portraying human dynamics.  It feels relevant to our current political scene.  I think it’s ironic how white supremacists don’t understand what will actually cause the decline of white skin.  I love diversity, so my view is clearer than those of people who love to hate.  Hate interferes with one’s ability to think clearly.  Unfortunate, that.

The variation in human skin color is related to melanin.  Melanin gives hair and skin its natural color or pigment.  It can protect human skin from cancer in warm climates.  Warm climates get lots of sunlight.  People with a lot of melanin, (brown skin), are far less likely to develop skin cancer.  People with white skin fare better in colder climates that get less sunlight.  Their skin lightened to allow them to absorb as much Vitamin D as possible to survive with less sunlight.  It’s an adaptation.

I’ve established the correlation between melanin levels and sunlight/climate.  Some white supremacists have voiced concern that white skin is dying out of the human race.  These same white supremacists think global warming is a hoax.  They don’t get that the more we pollute our planet, the warmer it gets.  The warmer it gets, the more melanin we’ll need in our skin to survive.  We’ll naturally begin to adapt over time.  White skinned humans will stop struggling to absorb Vitamin D in colder climates because there won’t be any cold climates left on earth.  The adaptation will be rendered unnecessary.

Denying global warming is speeding up the process.  Hating non-whites doesn’t help this problem in any way.  Hating the planet is not helping, either.  Personally, I hope white skin remains as a variety of human skin.  I like diversity.  I’d rather see more variations than less.  I’m rooting for technology to advance to the point where I can be any color I want, depending on my plans.

I don’t hate white supremacists.  I hope they figure out global warming is their enemy.  I’m pro-earth, but not as much as I could be.  I own a gasoline-fueled car, and I use electricity from the grid.  I fly several times a year as well.  But I’m in the process of planting trees to offset my carbon footprint and then some.  I know I can’t call myself an environmentalist by any stretch, but I’m improving.  I think it’s natural for anyone to want their variety of human to survive.  Part of what makes us so beautiful is how much we vary from one to another.

I hope we get a handle on how we treat our planet.  Especially since it’s the only planet we have, and it looks like we won’t be focusing on science for a while in America.  I’ll never cease being amazed by the consequences of greed.  Taking more than your share obsessively has to be a mental illness.  Money worshipping should be in the DSM.  It’s an addiction that leads to misbehavior exponentially.  The fact that so many obvious mental illnesses are not included in the manual contributes heavily to my belief that psychology is still more religion than science.

Wealth leads to power in America.  It allows you to bypass the law and grants access to ever more means of doing so.  The fact that we celebrate success has been twisted beyond recognition.  It went from honoring merit to cheering for those who acquired it by any means.  Trump is not a successful business man.  He’s pathetic and twisted in every way.  He was given his money.  He didn’t earn it.  He lost it and borrowed more.  Then lost it and filed bankruptcy.  Rinse and repeat.  Four times.  Then he couldn’t get loans anymore because bankers were tired of his defaulting.  He has bad credit.  So he went to Russia.

There is no merit in his new ill-gotten wealth whatsoever.  It’s blood money gained through treason.  He’s an epic failure.  Like a lot of prominent Republicans, Drumpfs inner greedy ugliness has seeped out and caused him to look just as ugly on the outside.  It’s hard to even look at photos of him with his scalp showing through his weave.  It’s gross because it’s self-inflicted ugly.  These people are deliberately evil.  It makes me sick.


I have to open a bottle of ketchup for her.

Lately, I’ve thought a lot about core values.  I haven’t paid much attention to philosophy (because it should be called wishful thinking.)  Wishing is for childhood.  Adulthood abuses wishers.  Tinkerbelle dies every time in reality.  But as a child, you may have been allowed to indulge.  Sorry nobody warned you it was temporary.  Philosophy should be expressed and experienced in childhood.  Reality beats Philosophy about the head and neck until it dies pitifully.  Like from Syphillus.  Or a bottle of poison.

Adults who insist on fantasy instead of reality raise my blood pressure.  I don’t think I’ll have a heart attack, though.  My picky diet is surprisingly good for my circulatory system.  Also, the smell of bacon repulses me.  My brother used to enjoy chasing me up a tree with the bacon from his breakfast.  My knees, elbows, palms, chin, and shins show evidence of my experiences.  I’ve left a lot of skin specimens on concrete, tree trunks, pavement, and grass.  I blame activities involving wheels, blades, and helmets, poor decisions, and gravity.

When I fell during a run in basic training, my Drill Sgt. put his face inches from mine and yelled at me for bleeding on his hill.  I was on the verge of tears, but his tirade led to my laughing in his face, followed by regretting it, then mopping up my blood with the edge of my t-shirt.  When I was 27, I stopped taunting Gravity.  I stopped because Gravity got tired of my playing too much and smacked me hard.  It was one of those pains so shocking you analyze it while experiencing it out of awe.  I don’t fuck with Gravity anymore.

Identifying my values versus what I remember by rote takes concentration.  I’m determined to recognize what exactly I value more than my life.  I’m aware I overestimate people habitually and am preparing to rectify this behavior.  I’m strategizing for war.  Triage is crucial at this point.  I’m figuratively zeroing my weapons and eliminating the unnecessary to keep myself light and mobile.  I despise violence.  I used to live by a nonviolent philosophy.  Unfortunately, it was beaten out of me.  So I grew up and insist on truths instead.  I don’t hit first.  I hit back with everything I can muster.

Growing up with eight older siblings was violent.  I can’t imagine having five older brothers and not knowing what it feels like to be punched in the face.  Or shot at point blank range with pellets, bbs, and paintballs.  Or carried around by your head (that was when I decided to fight back).  The last time my brother, Guy, picked me up by my head, I broke his nose with the crown of my skull.  I didn’t know it could have killed him until years later.

It also startled him and made him see me differently.  I went from distracted and passive to overwhelmingly violent without warning.  He didn’t know how much he was hurting me by his actions.  He also didn’t realize the obvious reaction was to jump to prevent what felt like having my head pulled off.   Don’t ever pick someone up by their head.  It’s a horrible thing to do, and it might be the last thing you ever do.  The only results I endured after breaking his nose was a life free of being lifted by my head.  I’m off to read, then think some more.

You were making out during Schindler’s List?

My blood pressure has stopped spiking.  I look like I mocked Mike Tyson while in arms reach from burst blood vessels in my eye, but it doesn’t hurt.  Seeing all the humans in my town and around the world at the Women’s March reminded me we vastly outnumber the troglodytes.  My participation was expensive but worth it.  Whenever I see The Foul Ones now, I imagine them wearing a sticker on their forehead fashioned after the Intel motto, only they say Empty Inside.  They’re much easier to spot now.  Most are eager to identify themselves.  It’s gross.  I shower more these days.

I feel fierce.  Drumpf is delusional.  I think he actually believes his own lies.  The GOP is astonishing.  I asked myself how someone makes it to adulthood without learning the most basic life skills.  The only explanation I’ve accepted is the bubble.  Humans who are born wealthy have a disadvantage.  I think they know this instinctively.  In some, it becomes resentment.  They hate us for being born free of their burden, but can’t bring themselves to give it up.

Wealth is a false sense of safety.  It can be quite convincing.  However, it’s a poor substitute for much of what makes life joyful.  People who are born rich are burdened with the challenge of discovering this.  I’m proud of those who figure this out while they still have time to benefit.  When I see someone who has, it makes me smile.  The difference between earned wealth and unearned wealth can be loud.  I’ll use the obvious examples:

Drumpf vs. Bill Gates.  I know there is a magazine that claims Bill Gates is the wealthiest man in America.  Understand this is bullshit.  Some American men were born so much richer than Gates his billions are chump change.  But for some reason, we don’t talk about the trillionaires.  Probably because they have more money than America, and we’re one of their customers.  Let’s go with that.

Drumpf was born in a bubble.  He doesn’t understand why he’s an outcast among his peers.  (He’s a con artist)  He can’t figure out how to make them believe in his fantasy.  He’s getting ready to try a lot harder, though.  I feel safer in my non-position of nobody than I imagine those who have crossed paths with Drumpf in the business world are feeling.

Rich Americans are probably playing their own little game of Chicken.  Things are about to get ugly.  Money isn’t bulletproof.  It’s a promise that can be broken.  A million dollars is still paper and metal.  There is no gold backing it up anymore.  It can’t protect you from reality.  It can shield you if you’re smart, but you’re still going to die.  If you hide behind it too often, you become Drumpf.  He is nothing without his paper and metal.  He buys stolen, second-hand dirt and puts gold plating on it.  It’s fascinating.

I hope Oprah is living in Austria, or something.  She’s a billionaire who owns a TV network.  She’s also a woman with brown skin.  Oprah is probably staying to fight.  She wasn’t born rich.  She knows she’s naked.  Drumpf and his kind do not.  They think they’re clothed because they demand it.  They believe reality is what they say it is.  The bubble told them so.

People who earn their wealth are often different.  Figuratively and literally living on both sides of the tracks can be advantageous.  Some wealthy Americans, like Gates, use their earned money to bypass the corrupt tax system and tackle problems head on.  He obtained the privilege of being more efficient.  He’s an adult.  Drumpf is Joffrey without Tyrion.  Adulthood is beyond his capabilities.  Earned money can also make the bubble trap spring tighter.  Some who are born to poverty are so traumatized they cling to money with a death grip.  Dickens wrote the cautionary tales.  Unfortunately, when you’re born in a bubble, reading is optional.

The GOP is relying heavily on the promise backed up by nothing.  They want to punish us.  They hate us for existing.  We make them feel ashamed of their greedy and vile behaviors.  They resent having to hide their depravity.  They know we see they’re empty inside, and they hate us for it.  They want us to play along with the fantasy or die.  The furious rage they display at being compared to Nazi’s is a tell.  They know it’s true and hate us for noticing.

Failure is inevitable for evil.  There will always be those who know right from wrong.  There will always be those who value honor over paper and metal.  Who know happy moments are what it’s all about.  Who value a few real friends over several of the fair weather variety.  We are the majority.  We live in reality and have the scars and lessons to guide us.  We know the bubble is a cage.

This food was in the shower with you?

I’m still in NYC.  My joints are sore, which usually means I’m not sleeping enough.  However, I’ve slept in record amounts of late, so who knows.  I’m so glad I brought my cat with me.  It’s amazing to me how much of a difference it makes to be able to cuddle her whenever I feel myself starting to get agitated.  It helps more than I ever imagined.  I’m also feeling the benefits of having a small bedroom with an enclosed bed.  My room is what was once considered maids quarters, and the bed is embedded in the wall on 3 sides.  I pull a curtain for even more privacy, and darkness.  It’s cozy, but I wish I had a weighted blanket here.

My PC doctor wants me to get my blood pressure checked as soon as I get home.  I can tell it’s way higher than it should be, and I suspect flying makes it worse.  My blood pressure is a direct reflection of my stress levels, and even when I feel like I’m totally winning at a tough challenge, it’ll clearly indicate that in reality, I’m suppressing, and paying for it.  I burst the blood vessels in my left eye yesterday.  That’s a pretty clear signal that I need to address it.  It’s not something that happens often, but it’s part of the cost of being black in America.

Being permanently on high alert internally is a low level pain that every person of color lives with in this country.  We don’t talk about it, but we all know it’s there.  We don’t acknowledge it because it’s an inescapable fact of life.  We have no idea what it’s like not to be on high alert 24/7.  We can barely remember those few years of innocence in our childhoods where we were oblivious of institutional racism.  We know everyone can relate to our invisible plight on some level, whether or not they choose to acknowledge it.

Gay people understand what it feels like.  White people who live in areas of extreme diversity know what it feels like.  Women who are afraid to even assess their exhaustion level from overachieving for minimal rewards know what it feels like.  Fat people know what it feels like.  Deaf people know what it feels like.  Transgender people know what it feels like.  Chronically ill people know what it feels like.  Disabled people know what it feels like.  Men who are overwhelmed by the sudden, generalized rage at their very existence know what it feels like.  Autistic people know what it feels like.  Adults who were interracially adopted as infants know what it feels like.  Black people with dark skin know what it feels like.  All who are actually living their lives know what it feels like.

What I don’t understand, is why we don’t embrace our struggles as a species, and hold each other up?  Why am I expected to waste my strengths on building myself up in the eyes of an imaginary entity, when I could use them to compensate for a weakness in another?  Is it not better that we are both lifted?  I know the answer.  I’ve known for some time now.  I know that my strengths are nothing if not used to lift those around me.  I know that my weaknesses are not my shame, but my connection to another with complementary strength.  It’s hard to recognize reality when others refuse to see it.  But I see it.  We are not meant to be so disconnected from each other.  It hurts us as a whole.  As a whole, we are.

But it was in pen. You fake erased…

I’m going to take a break from therapy.  My frustration tolerance is presently low.  The consequences of sharing past trauma are kicking my ass.  I entered therapy in the first place because I don’t want my past to continue fucking with my present.  I understand the concept of things getting worse before they get better.  I didn’t enter it blindly.  I also recognize that my ability to cope is limited, and am aware of what can happen when I allow it to be exceeded.

I realize coping skills are about 90% distraction, and 10% forced hormonal balance.  They are not a cure, or even a bandaid.  They are all about distance.  The act of willing oneself to move from point A to point B in order to forestall reality just long enough to survive.  So naturally, running is my best coping skill.  It forces my body’s hormonal imbalance to begin correcting itself.  It’s consistently effective, but still limited.  The distraction coping skill is the act of willing oneself to focus on anything but reality just long enough to prevent your mind from forming obvious conclusions, and acting on them.

Coping is treading water to prevent drowning.  It’s absolutely a skill, and requires lots of practice, a strong will, and trust.  If you don’t believe it will allow you to survive, it won’t.  If you expect it to be anything more than barely managing to survive, then you’ll be sorely disappointed, and probably really pissed off as well.  It sucks on every fucking level.  But it’s the only strategy that doesn’t lead directly to self destruction.  It reminds me of Combat Medic training in the Army, where they teach you how to apply a candy wrapper on a sucking chest wound.  It’ll probably keep the patient from dying immediately.  The same with using a Skilcraft pen to perform an emergency tracheotomy, or cauterizing heavy bleeding using whatever you can find.  Bare fucking minimum.

In the civilian world, you would barely manage to save someone’s life, and then suffer financial ruin when they survive and successfully sue you for your barbaric methodology.  This is coping.  And it fucking sucks.  So you forcibly train yourself to accept it as the best and only option.  But deep down, you resent it, and it leaks out as anger.  I’m feeling that anger now.  There’s nowhere to direct it.  There’s no personhood that is solely responsible, whom I can vilify and rage against.  It just is.

So my anger sits there and taunts me to act on it in some manner.  To do something in order to feel release.  But I know it’s a trap.  I know that randomly lashing out at bystanders because I’m angry is actually like playing a sadistic game of tag.  Eventually, it’ll come back around and tag me back.  Usually when I’m having a pleasant day.  Fuck that.  Or I could adopt the delusion that turning my anger inward is depression defined.  Fuck that twice.  Depression isn’t the act of directing anger inward.  Anger is just an ego leak.  It’s irrelevant to depression.  Depression isn’t action.  It’s inaction.  It’s hovering between participating in life, and telling life to fuck off.

The thing I hate the most about the Depression Monster, is that he’s such a fucking trickster.  He can hide in your blind spot indefinitely.  And when you don’t know he’s there, you accept the status quo as ‘normal’.  You settle for a shitty life without conscious awareness.  That’s fucked up.  I keep an eye on that bastard.  I have no afterlife expectations whatsoever.  I believe when I die, that’s it.  This life is mine, and if it sucks, it’s my fault.  Nothing outside of my mind is capable of determining whether or not my life sucks.  Unless I decide to allow it, that is.  This is also fucked up.

When the world outside my head tells me that it’s possible for me to be an innocent victim of my circumstances, it’s something I want to believe.  But it doesn’t pass the bullshit test, and that pisses me off.  And on top of that, many people do buy into it.  And I resent them, because I can’t lie to myself, and I don’t understand how others can do so.  Ego leak.  So I choose to be darkly amused by my anger.  It’s audacious in nature.  It’s me thinking I’m entitled to something, and then being upset when reality reminds me that I’m actually just dust that hasn’t been reabsorbed yet.

Festivus for the rest of us.

I saw several political trolls claiming that those who are favoring Bernie Sanders for POTUS want free handouts.  Seeing people claim this is not only untrue, it’s a lame rebuttal.  Especially when I noticed that many of them regularly purchase lottery tickets, which is the same silly notion.  Who doesn’t want things for free?  It’s been such an effective bait, that there are popular phrases to warn others that free things don’t exist.  Most Americans will respond to this bait with, “What’s the catch?”.  In reality, the only ones getting free stuff are the big corporations who got bailed out by taxpayer dollars.  But as if that wasn’t disgusting enough, they’ve also turned tax loopholing into an olympic-level sport.

So why are the people who object to the corruption and unethical behaviors in our government being identified as people looking for freebies and handouts?  A big part comes from where you get your information.  If you get all your information from the media, then you’ll know exactly what they want you to know.  You’ll believe their agenda as fact.  The media consists of TV, radio, newspapers, and the internet.  These are mostly privately owned entities that can broadcast whatever they want.  Brian Williams was bullshitting us for years before it caught up to him.  These are biased sources of information.  If you rely too heavily on anything owned by a single media conglomerate, you’re trusting that organization to tell you the truth, even if it’s against their best interests.  Sucker.

If you’ve paid attention, there have been a lot of mergers between media giants.  The number of people controlling what we watch, hear, and see, is getting smaller.  The media giants are getting larger.  It’s not Sprint and Nextel.  It’s Sprint-Nextel.  It’s not Time and Warner Brothers.  It’s Time-Warner.

Charter Communications’ $10.4 billion acquisition of Brighthouse Networks; Frontier Communications’ $8.6 billion purchase of Verizon’s landline business; American Tower Company’s $5 billion play for Verizon’s tower business; Gaming & Leisure Properties’ $2.4 billion purchase of Pinnacle’s real estate assets; an equity group’s $4 billion move on Life Time Fitness; and Expedia’s $1.6 billion bid for Orbitz.

Fortunately, Comcast was shut down by regulation issues before they managed to take over Time-Warner.  But Verizon managed to purchase AOL.  When I was checking out my options for cable and internet providers in Denver, I was disappointed.  I thought moving to a large city would mean more options.  It’s disturbing how so few companies have sole coverage of a specific area for utilities.  I realize they are legal monopolies and are regulated by the government.  I just don’t understand why a company that performs so poorly that they’re basically a joke to their customers is allowed to maintain their monopoly.  I’m looking at you, Comcast.  The IRS rated higher in customer satisfaction than Comcast.  That’s astonishing.

My point is that Bernie Sanders’ supporters are not supporting him because they think they’re going to get something for free.  Well, some may be, but they’ll be disappointed, and it will be a good life lesson for them.  The other people who are supporting his candidacy know the difference between campaign promises, goals, and reality.  We know apes could produce better results than an embarrassing number of our congresspersons.  At least they’d show up, and not spend their time playing phone games or surfing porn.  We know that in order for the next POTUS to accomplish anything, he or she will have to fight, and compromise.

We know that we’re voting for the person who we believe will fight the present corruption that is murdering our nation.  Nothing more, nothing less.  If Bernie Sanders as POTUS somehow manages to make state universities free, I’ll be shocked.  I have my PhD.  I don’t plan on going back to school, but I paid for my own education without the trap of student loans.  It’s not a personal issue for me.  However, I think it would be awesome if he could pull it off.  Not for me, but many others.  I don’t have unreasonable expectations of a position that has limited powers to create change.  I’m voting for my chosen candidate because I believe he has the same values as me.  He is ruled by empathy, as am I.  I want my fellow citizens to be happy, healthy, and dignified.  I don’t want any Americans to starve, die because they can’t afford medical care, or be denied the basic dignity that makes us proud to be Americans.  I’ll be fine regardless of the outcome of the upcoming election.  I have the means to emigrate if necessary. I’m voting for you and yours.  Not because I’m some altruistic saint.  It’s for very selfish reasons.  I can sleep when I know there are billions of people around me who have what they need to survive.  I’m very tired.

Serenity Now!

One of my stitches came out today.  It grossed me out, but I’m glad I didn’t swallow it.  The pain is tolerable without pain medication now.  The swelling has also gone down quite a bit.  I’m proud of my body for healing so well.  I feel like a healing ninja.  I’m re-reading the Stormlight Archive books in anticipation of a new installment being published.  But I found out that the next book by Brandon Sanderson will be in a different series.  Oh well, It’s another one I’ll enjoy reading in a week or so.  He does very well with releasing new novels.  Most of my other favorite authors have a much longer time scale between releases.  I’m fine with waiting.  I just hope they don’t die before they finish.  But even when that happened with the epic series by Robert Jordan, it was finished using his notes by Brandon Sanderson.  I really like the Wheel of Time series, so I’m glad it was completed.

I enjoyed re-reading The Pickwick Papers recently.  It’s one of my favorites by Dickens.  He was like the Bernie Sanders of that era through his novels.  I wish Ayn Rand would have studied Dickens’ books, not only for their messages, but also for a good example of how to deliver it without being painfully redundant.  I think she could have been a much better writer if she put as much effort into her story telling as she did into her propaganda.  I still read The Fountainhead and Atlas Shrugged every so often.  Objectivism is exaggerated far beyond what reality can support, but it still has a few valid points.  I deeply regret that her emotional intelligence was overshadowed so much by her intellect.  That lack of balance held back her true potential.  When I see people living today who still regard Objectivism as a viable philosophy, I shake my head in sadness.  It’s become a magnet for insecure pseudo-intellectuals.  I always hope they outgrow it.

The characters in the Stormlight Archive challenge me in ways I haven’t clearly defined yet.  The child within me wants my hero to be clear and pure.  The older, more sophisticated part of me wants to have to think in order to recognize them.  To see through the layers of believable shortcomings and flaws, and discover the hero inside.  Brandon Sanderson presents neither.  His heroes are different.  They may seem flawed, but after more data and thought, I find myself adjusting my assumptions and definitions of what makes a hero.  It’s an enlightening process.  It’s probably why I love his novels so much.  They require a bit of personal growth in order to get from them all that you can.  I suspect this is part of why Charles Dickens was and is so beloved as a novelist.  It’s also where Ayn Rand failed.  I wanted John Galt to be a hero.  Instead, he turned out to be a prick.  Howard Roark was an asshole.  We admired their accomplishments and talents, but that’s not enough.  A hero has to be more.  A hero has to inspire us to be better human beings.  John Galt and Howard Roark inspired us to be self absorbed assholes.  Pseudo-intellectuals embrace this because it was intelligently presented, and they think it makes them elite, when in reality, it exposes them as pathetic.

I see it as a filter.  I don’t put forth effort in relating to people who are pro-objectivists.  It allows me to pay attention to those who aren’t driven by fear.  Life is too short to bother with converting assholes.  Plenty of fish, and all that.

Balance and Aim

Yesterday was painful.  I face planted after slipping on the ice, and managed to crack a molar in the process.  I look like I lost a fight with Mike Tyson.  I went to the dentist at the VA, and they sent me to an oral surgeon to get the cracked tooth dug out.  First, they cleaned my teeth and did a flouride treatment, since I couldn’t get in for surgery for a few hours.  I’m very pleased they did this, as I was there already, and going in the first place is hard for me.  I drove from the VA to the oral surgeon using the map they gave me.  I had it upside down, so I had to turn around at one point, and while doing so, I drove past my childhood home.  I don’t do this very often, as I live in a different part of town now.  The neighborhood seemed so small compared to my memories.

I arrived in plenty of time, and chose local anesthesia rather than being put under.  It meant a huge needle that I saw, even though they were trying to hide it from me.  I’m not afraid of shots so long as I know when they’re coming.  The first two didn’t hurt much.  The second two hurt about the same as a scorpion sting.  But it was only for a brief moment, and then they waited for the numbness to set in.  I didn’t feel any pain while the dentist dug out my tooth.  I heard cracking sounds, and had to push against the force to keep from moving too much.  The dentist and his assistant complimented me on remaining still.  He said he wished all his patients were so easy to work with.  I didn’t reply verbally for obvious reasons, but my eyes probably smiled.  I have a high pain tolerance, so it wasn’t difficult for me.

They prescribed an oral rinse and some narcotic pain killers.  I drove back to the VA to get them filled, and was home after about 5 hours.  For me to be away by myself, driving while it’s snowing, and going somewhere unfamiliar, is amazing.  I’m proud of myself for pulling it off without a panic attack.  The difference between the equipment at the VA dental clinic, and at the oral surgeons was astonishing.  I felt like I had travelled forward in time.  The seat was leather, and so soft and comfortable.  They were worried that I would have a hard time, but in reality, the hardest part was staying awake.  I got 2 stitches, and a handful of gauze to help stop the bleeding.  I bit down on it while I drove home, and then changed it upon arrival.  My cat was a little put out that I was gone that long.  She’s so cute.

I took the pills, but I halved the dosage.  The numbness was just starting to wear off when I got the script filled, so I took it as soon as I settled in.  My face is bruised and swollen today, but the bleeding has stopped, and the pain is minimal.  I’ll drop the rest of the pills off at the VA ER tomorrow, since I don’t need them.  I’m just glad I didn’t throw up from them.  I’ve been eating gogurt and PB&J sandwiches today.  I’m slightly nauseated, but I feel much better today.  I slept really hard last night, and ruined my pillowcase from blood leaking out in my drool.  Fortunately, it wasn’t one of my good ones.  I’m healing quickly, as usual.  I’ll be going back to get a tooth implant when I’m all healed.  I’m a little bit shaky on my feet today because my brain keeps replaying the fall.  It freaked me out how quickly it happened.  I know that my body is too weak right now, or this wouldn’t have happened.  I’ll be so glad when I can run daily again.  I never realized before how much balance depends on strength.

I read an article today about black intellectuals who want reparations.  I strongly disagree, and think reparations are a ridiculous notion when you consider the fact that the only reason African Americans exist in large numbers is because of the Africans who sold our distant relatives into slavery.  It was horrific betrayal, and we’re still coping with its effects on our daily lives.  It sucks.  I hate that it’s so hard to have brown skin in America.  But reparations won’t resolve anything.  First of all, who would pay them, and to whom?  Ridiculous.  Turn that energy toward fighting for an end to institutional racism and oppression.  We all feel the repercussions of slavery, and we all deserve viable solutions.


Autism Requires No Cure

I read a tweet yesterday about an organization called Autism One alleging “cures” for Autism through diet.  These “remedies” including forcing an Autistic child to ingest bleach.  It’s complete and total bullshit.  This is child abuse.  This is monstrous.  Any parent who is seeking a “cure” for their Autistic child is already on the wrong track.  Autism is a variety of human being.  If your child is Autistic, or has the diagnosis of PDD (Pervasive Developmental Disorder), your child requires you to become creative, not evil.  Your child is not broken.  Your child thinks differently, and experiences the world differently than the neurotypical variety of human being.

The desire for a “cure” is a selfish inclination.  The desire is to force their child to become something that they are not.  The desire does not lie in creating a better life for your child.  The root of the desire to “cure” Autism lies in the selfish desire of an ignorant parent who wishes their child to be what they consider normal in order to make their own lives easier, not that of their child.  It’s ignorant because normal is a setting on a washing machine, not a variety of human being.  An Autistic child requires love, patience, and a sincere desire to connect with them in their unique way of connecting.  There are lots of books and websites about Autism, but few are by people who are actually Autistic, and therefore an expert on the condition.

Trying to “cure” it is like trying to “cure” Down Syndrome.  It’s a ridiculous notion.  The time and energy wasted on this futile task could be better served by loving your child as they are, and discovering how your child communicates and learns.  This is the case with all children.  They are all beautiful beings that are new to this world, and need gentle guidance in a manner with which they can comprehend. But above all, they require your love.  If you are the parent of an Autistic child, seek advice from the true experts.  Adult Autists.  We understand better than anyone how to live with Autism.  We vary in many ways, but we are the true experts.  Many of us use alternative means of communicating, such as typing on a computer.  We are human beings who have the ability to feel joy and sorrow.  We feel empathy.  We have a sense of humor.  We love and desire to be loved.  We understand what it’s like to feel like we’ve been dropped off on an alien planet at birth, forced to struggle in order to connect with our families.  We know several creative ways to accomplish this task.  We are human beings with the full range of emotions, levels of intellect, and personalities.  We are part of humanity.

So stop seeking “cures” that don’t exist.  Stop falling for the misinformation that claims harming your child will help them.  And most of all, stop killing Autistic children.  This is monstrous behavior.  Nobody has the right to murder a child for being Autistic.  I hate that this happens.  I hate that one of my childhood neighbors murdered her daughter, and then took her own life with a shotgun in their basement.  There was no honor in this action.  It was a vile act of selfishness, ignorance, and evilness.  There are organizations that have the audacity to sympathize with parents who commit this atrocious crime, such as Autism $peaks.  They view Autistic people as burdens on their parents, and broken children who will never experience a joyful life.  They are not in the business of helping people who are Autistic.  They are in the business of collecting money from the ignorant, and using it to increase their personal wealth, and that of their friends.

Autism $peaks is the “charity” endorsed by Ed Asner.  They spend the majority of the money they gather from the unwitting people who intended their donations to help those with Autism for advertising.  Here is a link to their financial statement for 2013.  You will see that they are not only making a profit in excess of $1.5 million dollars, they spend the vast majority of their funds on advertising, and research to find the cause of Autism, potential “cures” for an incurable condition, and treatments for Autism.  I boycott this “charity”, because it’s clear to me that they are not in the business of helping people with Autism.  They are in the business of spreading misinformation, such as claims that vaccines cause Autism, which is scientifically proven to be untrue.  They are in the business of sympathizing with evil parents who murder their Autistic children.  They are in the business of ignoring the advice of Autistic people, which makes the name of this supposed charity ironic at best.

Any supposed charity that raises the ire of those it’s supposedly trying to help is a red flag.  When said organization deliberately refuses to heed the advice of the people they are supposedly trying to help, they instigate boycotts, and represent a fraudulent predatory organization in the eyes of those of us who are Autistic.  Among us, Autism $peaks is infamous, and only gives 4% of the money they collect to services and supports for Autistic people.  That’s not a typo.  4%.  This organization sees Autistic people as burdens, and promotes a center that is under investigation by the FDA for torturing Autistic people.  It’s despicable.  This link to Boycott Autism $peaks gives further and more detailed information.  Here is a link dispelling the misguided correlation between vaccines and Autism.

I’m Autistic.  I was born this way.  I’ve served in the US Army where I earned awards such as the Army Commendation Medal for excellent service.  I’ve earned a PhD in Software Engineering, and am currently a freelance programmer, as well as the CEO of an independent gaming company that hires Autistic programmers exclusively.  I’m a human being.  I am one example of an Autistic person.  I had loving parents who were patient with me.  They did not waste time seeking a cause or cure for my condition.  They loved me.  They figured out how to communicate with me.  They helped me learn and become a person who loves learning.  They accepted me as I am.  They never saw me as a burden, or considered murdering me.  They didn’t torture me, or force me to ingest vile potions in an effort to make me “normal”.  They were loving parents, and because of their willingness to be loving people, I am now an adult whose goal in life is to be joyful.  There is no better ambition, in my opinion.