The “ink” is barely dry on a post in which I compared Jerry Seinfeld to a racially-charged designation of people who are, effectively, traitors to their own kind. I pointed out the history he apparently does not want to talk about of going and promoting our “cure” (read: murder, because that is what it is). I pointed out to all and sundry that instead of saying “welcome, brother”, YOU (that is, passives who presume to speak for all of us) should be saying “in light of your anti-autistic behaviour in the past, you are going to need to prove this”. Continue Reading
I will get this out of the way first. I hate Bill Cosby. I know that is a pretty strong statement to make about a person you have never met in person, so to speak. But disgust is a great description of what I feel whenever I see his image. Continue Reading
This post, as angrily-written as it is (and Fudgebook “temporarily” silenced me for it because it is now blatantly obvious that bigotry and promotion of child sex offence is just fine with them but argument for autism civil rights is not on Fudgebook, by the way, John, why do you never post about that fact?), expresses what one PTSD-suffering autistic adult feels about this horse-poo. I will summarise the points here:
1) Asshole… I mean, Seinfeld, is being subjected to a burden of proof that is so far below that which real autistic adults are subjected that that in itself is an insult. Seinfeld could afford to have Attwood, Hénault, and at least one other real expert in front of him at his pleasure. He has not done this. That makes his declaration suspect on its face.
2) I was knowingly autistic when Seinfeld was proclaiming that we should all be cured. I was there to be told “oh, hey Dean, here’s a video of someone asking Seinfeld if he even cares what we think of the words he is shoving into our mouths”. His behaviour in that video demands apology and also makes his no-burden self-diagnosis even more suspicious.
3) I theorise in this writing that Autism Speaks For Normie Assholes has paid him to make this declaration and will pay him again to proclaim his desire to be cured in national advertising. I would be happy to be proven wrong. But this is the point people like you (apparently deliberately) miss, Robison: Seinfeld has through his own past behaviour set up a need to not only prove his claims, but apologise for his past behaviour. And I will accept nothing less than the means I have outlined for that. If someone proclaims the need for your genocide one day and then proclaims they are one of you the next, you do not say “welcome, friend”, you tell them to go away until they can back up what they are saying.
3a) I have sat not three feet from Attwood and Hénault. They, along with three other people whose credentials concerning autism are far more above reproach than yours, agree that I am autistic. I can meet a very big burden of evidence and I have less means than Seinfeld has in his worst nightmares. Meet that burden, Seinfeld.
4) Lastly, you coming out in support of him only furthers the above. You tried to be the house ni! to the enemy. At best, he is going to do likewise in my opinion. At worst, he is going to do the one-two PR punch at their behest that I speak of.
You do not just throw the swastika in the dirt and say “I am not a Nazi”, Jerry or John. You have to prove it. And even then, as an autistic man who is uncomfortable in his own skin because of the ways in which I have been treated on the basis of my autism, I do not want to be represented by either of you. In fact, John, how do I know that _you_ are not tailing me, running crying to the failure of a Human being that runs scumbook and crying for us to be silenced? How do we know that, John?
It takes twenty-four seconds for a burn to go from superficial to third-degree, John. TWENTY-FOUR SECONDS.
Sometimes, people do things that make me realise just how deep our legs have sunk into the concrete. (Before you click the jump-link, know that I will be using the phrases “house nigger” and “autistic house nigger” a few times towards the end. I do not use these words lightly, but I do ask you to brace yourself and consider their context if you want to scream at me about it when you get done reading.) Continue Reading
I love the hell out of Harry S. Plinkett’s reviews of the Star Wars prequels. Early on in his review of Revenge Of The Sith, he feints and hooks so well. You think he is going to make the obvious “they spelled shit wrong” joke. And what he actually says had me nearly dying of laughter. Continue Reading
Earlier, I wrote a little about the new Yanomamo song, Ativan And Whiskey. I deleted that article from here because I felt it to be a lazy, rushed piece of writing. Not that this surprises me. This year has been a very dark one for me, and this part of the year, without fail, is the darkest time in every year. I mention this because there is a chance that has coloured what I have written previously. Continue Reading