Organisation and resistance.

Yesterday, I posted the first of two essays I wished to offer as penance for not participating in the Autistic Speaking Day exactly on time. In it, I describe the three main ways I know that a collective of people can attain freedom. In it, I explained why I would sleep better at night if autistic people as a whole “manned up” and demonstrated that they were willing to pay the “iron price”.

As paying the iron price is essentially a poetic euphemism for taking something by force, it raises a question. What does an autistic organisation willing to pay the iron price look like?

To formulate an answer, I am going to have to quote parts of films or stories out of context. First off the mark, Chuck Palahniuk‘s novel Fight Club and its subsequent film adaptation by David Fincher offers several major hints.

But first, a word about membership. Who should be considered a member of this autistic army, and why? The answer can best be paralelled in a shot from Cobra, the 1986 slice of silliness starring Sylvester Stallone. This write-up on i-mockery says it best at point three. “It doesn’t seem to matter if you’re a psycho killer with huge muscles or a disgruntled, middle-aged balding businessman… all are welcome in the axe-clanking club!”. (Neurobigoted language theirs and kept intact.) In the film proper, nobody quite knows who is tipping off the villains to the police’s actions until just before the final battle. That is why all who are either autistic or sympathetic to the cause are welcome in my model resistance organisation. When you cannot identify your enemy, it is much harder to destroy them than it is for them to destroy you.

This presents the need for tiered leadership. Anyone can join, but only certain types lead or make decisions. I have had the privilege (and so he knows, I think of it as that) of arguing with a man who is autistic and a veteran. The ability to make decisions of conscience, decisions that are right but extremely unpopular, is paramount. This also means a need for divisions, branches, or whatever you prefer to call them.

This brings me back to Fight Club. Towards the end of the film, the narrator tells a policeman that the titular club is a tightly regimented organisation with numerous cells, all of which are capable of operating completely independently of central leadership.

Any autistic organisation that really wants to promote our civil rights must meet this description. It must also be capable of, in the event of loss of central leadership, be able to make rational decisions concerning who replaces central leadership. This is asking a lot, but it is important.

Civil disobedience is also par for the course in any civil rights movement. Project Mayhem’s repainting of an EPA sign to suggest the use of old motor oil to fertilise one’s lawn is a good example. The EPA has, throughout my lifetime, suggested or imposed increasing levels of restrictions to the lifestyle of the common man. But Odin forbid they might go after large corporations, or better yet recommend measures to reduce the Human population. So why not make them out to be the assholes that they are? What if, ten years from now, Autism Speaks For Normie Assholes were actually afraid to post their hate campaigns anywhere for fear that autistic people will modify the ads to publicise their crimes against us?

(This sounds far more desirable to me than the result of the begging and pleading price. I have no ambition to become a neurological house nigger.)

I have used the words “Autistic Panthers” in the past. When most white folk from backgrounds like mine think of the Black Panthers, what comes to mind is a militant organisation hellbent of the subjugation of white folk. So when I read about less-known things the Black Panthers did, such as running programmes to make sure black mothers and their babies get what they need to ensure the next generation of black children grow up big and strong, it got me to thinking.

Autistic adults should, and should be able to, organise a network so that no autistic child today goes without protection, food, or education. That, unfortunately, means organised flaunting of the law in some cases. A child should not be forced to repeatedly return to an abusive environment. If that means truant officers have to be told by tutors to fukk off and harass normies who can expect to be treated fairly by the normie education system, that is fine by me.

I hate to break it to certain folks (you know who you are), but resisting means more than making pretty speeches at organised events. In context of being a people marked for extermination, it means organising and getting ready to seriously challenge the normie establishment about the price that they are willing to keep treating us this way.

And if I could have two divisions of men that were willing to sabotage Autism Speaks For Normie Assholes campaigns or kill members of Autism Speaks For Normie Assholes, then I would be telling them there is only one price they can pay.

The iron price.

(References to X-Men and locating the mutant population for organisational purposes withheld due to need to address such matters on their own.)