How I spent the second half of February

(A note before I begin: This entry is going to talk a lot about the goings-on inside an acute-care ward within a mental health facility. For that reason, I am going to use aliases and flat-out mess-ups of names in order to protect anonymity and privacy. Please do not ask me who is who, because even if I do remember, I am not going to tell you. Similarly, if you recognise yourself in these writings and would like to be completely blanked out, feel free to comment.)

When things avoid intention, part one: Semantics, and shame

If you are reading this, then take it as proof positive of two things. One, the attempt to put an end to my existence that was promised for a certain date did not go ahead or quite as planned. Exactly what happened is irrelevant. The important point is that I was not found dead.

Violence keeps the world in line. Get over yourselves, passives.

Every so often, when the behaviour of curebies or normalists gets so obnoxiously bigoted that just reading about it makes my neurochemistry do backflips, I start asking people one question. Why are you not fighting back in some manner? As the example of the Black Panthers who frightened the NRA into supporting a firearm restriction law in 1967 proves to me, even threatening to go around armed makes the norms react with deep, irrational fear.

What “you” look like to me, in a civil rights model sense.

(An important note: This article was written before the school shootings and the autism strawmanning the curebies used it for took place. At the time this was written, I hated passives enough that I would throw them in a bonfire with the normies. As a result of those events, I am unsure whether I hate passives less than normies or curebies now. Go figure.)

I will admit right now, I am well aware that my superiority-based view of how the battle for our civil rights should be enforced can be rather alienating, even where others of my kind are concerned. But after the so-called 2012 Congressional hearings on autism, I have a question that not only would I like to ask what I not-so-nicely call passives, but one that I feel they should be asking themselves.

Can you blame me?

Being a President requires balls. The proverbial kind, I mean.

So, as I often do, I went looking around for examples of other peoples’ writings. I do not know quite how I came across this article on Sad Bastard Bar, but I am glad I did. In it, The Bastard, as they call themselves, talks a lot about the buzz that has been going around about the “debate” that U.S. President Barack Obama supposedly lost. Let us leave aside for a moment the fact that a victory obtained by lying so hard that your opponent will have months’ worth of material to hit you over the head with is what the expression Pyrrhic Victory was invented for.

The shameful-ised autistic identity that the curebies wish to push upon us. Why?

I have two things to tell you before we begin. One, this essay will contain repeated and very precision-intended uses of a derisive word for dark-skinned Americans that they themselves often use to deride other dark-skinned Americans who behave in a manner that they find objectionable. Two, this is necessary for making the point that I ended up circling around in this essay. If you do not like it, the door is in that direction. *makes a pointing motion*

They sink to a new low. Autism Speaks think they own a colour.

So, I was discussing the urgent need to replace the puzzle piece with one of our own, with an individual who is more inclined toward illustration and related visual art than I am. As has been discussed already, my candidates mostly have a TRON: Legacy theme to them. But the salient point in this writing is that according to the other conversant in the discussion, Autism Speaks has apparently decided that the colour blue is theirs and their campaign colour.