Off the rails. Again.

I do not believe I have to tell other people on the autistic spectrum, regardless of how passive they may be, how frightening and appalling the news tends to be. One only need look at the litany of stories about autistic adolescents and children being murdered and the perpetrators being blown or eaten out by the media. Or listen to my asshole idiot parental units trying to tell me it really is not all that bad.

My hands. Cold hands. Yoooour haaaaands… (and so on)

If there is one thing that really bugs the hell out of me, it is the manner in which the mainstream autistic civil rights movement seems unable (or worse still, unwilling) to think beyond stereotypes. Stereotypes are much like a weapon. They can be used for both good and ill, and the difference is much a matter of whom is wielding them.

Relevance: how getting more of it can be tragic

Two years ago, if you told me that three fourths of the lineup that recorded eight albums and defined the musical style that would provide the soundtrack to my life would record and release a new album, I would have told you I would believe it only when I saw it.

Dear Lieutenant General David Morrison

A little while ago, concerned about the rampant bullying and likely sexual assault of women serving in the Australian army, its chief, Lieutenant General David Morrison, issued a statement directed both at the Australian public and the officers or NCOs involved in the scandal. I will link his speech after the jump.

Living with diabetes, a reflection

Around this time in 1988, I started to get really, really sick. So sick that I lost a substantial portion of my bodyweight, was thirsty enough to empty a double-doorway refrigerator of all its liquids, and spend substantial portions of days feeling so listless that I was practically sleepwalking. Then, on my mother’s birthday that year, I was taken to a general practitioner who listened to a brief rundown of my symptoms, tested my blood and my urine, and told me plainly that I had developed diabetes.

Fukk you, new Internet

My first contact with the Internet, or rather the version of the Internet that was available to the public, occurred in 1995. That is, eighteen years ago as if this writing. I am not going to do stupid things and go on about how it has changed or how I prefer the Internet as it was, or that kind of shit. Things change for a reason, regardless of whether they change for good or ill. And trying to stop change is like trying to stop death.

Science (If I may reflect for a while…)

Science is really one of the most wonderful and misunderstood things about the Human experience. I am no scientist myself. Hell, I only understand enough about it to know when someone is trying to bullshit me. But a recent proclamation of intent to “debate” got me thinking. How can I best explain the things that set my bullshit detector off?