Vincent Bugliosi and his writings on the O.J. Simpson murder trial

Even though I was “encouraged” to read in ways that made reading seem more like a laborious chore than something one does for pleasure (a common failing of modern education systems, sadly), sometimes I do enjoy a good read. And Vincent Bugliosi, if nothing else, makes a good author for the most part. He occasionally gets carried away and repeats himself a few too many times for his own good, but that is not exactly a failing in the subject he is writing about.

Person-firsters get the kick in the balls of a lifetime.

I was on my way to a court hearing today (Wednesday 17 of July) when one of my Fudgebook friends sent me a link in a message. The link pointed me to this document by Lisa Egan. I wish to comment about it some, but first, I would like anyone who is reading this document but has not read that one to go and read that one. Take your time, I do not mind waiting for your attention, because what Lisa has written at that site is one of the best things I have read in a long time.

More about that bloody verdict.

Yeah, I know. I have been wanting to focus-shift this journal for an amazingly long time, from things that bother me to things that have been keeping me going in spite of how much the rest bothers me. Unfortunately, with the way things have been both in the outside world and on a personal level, this has not proven quite possible.

The verdict (no, not that one).

Before we begin, let me tell you something. I am not going to pretty up what I have to say with political correctness or blanks. This is because I want to properly express my impression of the mindset behind the violent criminal act I am speculating about. If this bothers you, go elsewhere, please.

Publicised trials are a funny thing. In spits and spats, the public are doused in grim, puzzling, or even stupid details from the trial’s progress. And after months or even years, a verdict is handed down that is pored over for years afterwards, with people speculating on what led to the result.

Racism, the traps in its definitions, and what we can learn from same.

As I have hinted before, I really love to draw parallels between the struggles of racial minorities such as black people in America and the autism civil rights struggle. Whilst there are significant differences between them, there are also overlaps that have equal significance. So it is worth having a think about the manner in which minorities are discriminated against, and the lessons that autism civil rights activists can learn from same.

I hate people.

The title of this essay should come as no surprise to anyone who knows me or knows what I have been through thus far. I hate mean old stupid ignorant people.

Yet another post about why “person first” language is *bad*…

In my written work, I sometimes attempt to mimic in text my everyday patterns and quirks of speech. And by speech, I mean the speech to myself (thinking to myself) as well as exterior, to others. That part is because the two often converge, anyway. Such is the case when you almost never fail to mean what you are saying, even if the meaning you have in your consciousness and the meaning your audience thinks you are trying to impart are two different things.