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  • Category Archives Personal
  • the DIS in disability

    Often the the DIS in disability grows larger as you get older.

    For me it was obvious because by 16 my vision was too bad to drive so I was suddenly different from everyone else.  At 24 when I was too mentally ill to live on my own I was again different than everyone else (back then there was still a lot of stigma around people living at home).  I never found a real job after that largely due to disability based prejudice.  Failing to live on my own the stigma grows with each passing year.

    Adulthood is no picnic to those of us with disabilities because adulthood itself is marked by milestones like having a car, a job, a place, a community that accepts you, etc..  and a lot of us don’t have any or many of these things.  Childhood has its own pitfalls but for a lot of us it was better (except for those who were bullied all the time).



  • what is this eudemonic pleasure you speak of?

    I don’t feel eudemonic pleasure.  I volunteer a lot because I can’t find paid work and don’t get pleasure from it.  The pleasure I feel is hedonic like when I listen to a good song or are with friends enjoying tea or a chai latte.  I think there are a few reasons for this, first being that I’m on the bottom so any time I help people it’s not happening by my own free will, it’s happening because disability based prejudice is keeping me from fully functioning in society (via getting a job).  Also generally classes that have been oppressed (such as African Americans) get less eudemonic pleasure out of uncompensated labor because it was forced upon them in the past.  The second being I have untreated depression and I think depression (at least as a male) makes you feel your station more at the expense of anything else you could be feeling.  So if you’re volunteering you’re thinking you are on the bottom instead of how much you are benefiting people.  Thirdly I can’t read social cues so when people are grateful it doesn’t often reach me.

    Society likes to denigrate people who only feel hedonic pleasure labeling them as selfish and entitled.  I don’t know what to say to that other than a lot of times it is something out of our control.



  • Isolation Jar

    A lot of people have punished me with one of the most severe and effective punishments possible.  Isolation.  They dropped out of my life because I disagreed with them or I was too low status.

    I was thinking of the swear jar where people drop money in it when they swear and donate it somewhere.  I was thinking it in context of trying to curtail my taking God’s name in vain.  I’m still serious about that because that is prohibited by Jews as well as Christians.  I was thinking what would work for me is an isolation jar.  I would put coins in it whenever in indiscretion left my lips but instead of donating the money I’d count the money out and for each ten coins someone would cancel a time where they were going to hang out with me.



  • Pride

    Pride isn’t so much of an entity in and of itself is it is a glue that holds everything else in one’s life together.  For example take your typical window shade.  It will have a shade and an apparatus to connect it to the window. Pride is like that apparatus.  Pride is commensurate with how much you have in your life just like the window shade apparatus would have to be stronger to hold up a heavier shade.

    Times in my life where I had the most I also had the most pride.  I have less now but it’s because I have less and less of what makes people worth something.  I find it ridiculous that Christians vilify pride.  This is because for a lot of people their pride is integral in holding up their faith (as it is to holding up everything else in their life).  Being right and righteous are two things that produce substantial amounts of pride and just happen to be integral to most people’s Christian experience.  Heck I was the most prideful when I was Christian.  Of course the party line is pride is a sin which is a ridiculous statement.  If you are going to invent a religion whose final product is prideful people, don’t bother calling pride a sin. It would be like selling cars with the emergency brake always engaged or having an over eaters anonymous meeting in a mall food court.



  • logarithmic scales in life

    Walk inside on a sunny day and you generally can see indoors without too much fuss (unless there is something wrong with your eyes).  This is because your pupils dilate.  The scale of light is actually logarithmic.  There is orders of magnitude more light outside than there is in a closed off room inside.  This can be most clearly seen by taking a picture indoors that has a window to the outside.  The outdoor portions wash out in white.

    I feel there are other things that operate on a logarithmic scale, chief among them suffering.  A lot of us experience a lot of slow burn misery when our lives are not actually very bad at all.  What makes things bad is we are living inside of our head and reading about the nation which is in a slow motion train wreck.  However once a tragedy strikes or we are sick or experience distressing physical pain suddenly our life is orders of magnitude worse but we often don’t feel that all the way.  I have in my life been under pretty serious physical pain which led to an eventual psychotic break.  My life was much worse then than it is now but my mood was only somewhat worse.  Of course some of this has to do with the fact that when you are in a lot of pain your stress response kicks in so you don’t feel as bad during it but the bill eventually comes later.

    The second thing I think works on a logarithmic scale is status (particularly for males).  The (now former) friends of mine that are high status have orders of magnitude more than me (CEO’s and senior engineers verses me fighting for scraps on the informal economy).  Another proof that the status curve is logarithmic is the Redpill trope that women are going after the top 10 or 20 percent of men and ignoring the bottom 50 percent entirely.  If what made men desirable wasn’t distributed logarithmically I don’t think you would see this so pronounced.



  • a good thing?

    Why the fuck do people think Jesus being God is a good thing?  You want to call yourself God, knock your self the fuck out but you get all the baggage associated with that deity.  Why would anyone want that?  For me finding Jesus as God just means that Jesus wants me to do all the crazy shit God does (like drink piss, kill myself, and date women out of my league).  So for me Jesus had so much going for him before whomever wanted him to be God got everyone to believe he was.  So depending on what you experience of God, finding Jesus as God can be salvation or a damnation.  In my case the latter.



  • compound words

    I have been in contact with someone further along in being destroyed by their mental illness.  Sadly we are no longer friends.  But a couple of things I noticed from her.

    She would write out each word in compound words.  So the site Remedyfind became Remedy Find.  I find in the last couple years I have done that too.

    She would listen to more upbeat music like 80’s new wave.  I have noticed in the last three years doing that too, listening to that kind of music and hopeful music like Luke Brindley and The Innocence Mission.  I used to listen mostly to sad bastard indie.

    One thing I have noticed about myself is I no longer get that clean feeling people promise after taking a shower.  This is evidenced by me often wearing dirty shirts after I shower.



  • faith hope tv

    I think the switch over from analog to digital TV over the air signals is a good analogy for the way different people operate in relation to faith.  Some people can have an incomplete percentage of faith in God and still derive some hope out of it.  Others, like me, can not.  This is similar to how in the analog days one could, with a decent fractional percentage of signal, get a serviceable though imperfect picture.  In the digital days, not so much, it’s either 100% or nothing.



  • life

    In a calculus proof the outcome is subject to the laws of mathematics.  Christianity is not like that.  Whether Christianity is true is itself incarnational.   The only way you show it to be true or false is the way you live your life.  This is why youth directors and even the Jars of Clay are dead on people listening to Nine Inch Nails.  Because Trent Reznor is such a powerful voice who earnestly sought God and found nothing.  This is why his first two albums are the ones Christians like the least.  Pretty Hate Machine in particular is all about apostasy.

    As for me I have earnestly sought God and found nothing.  And gotten handily rejected by the church.  And I am a pretty virtuous person.  People on the spectrum have much higher rates of non religiosity than the general population.  We don’t have the capacity to concoct God!  The fact that God could just be all in your head is an affront to Christians.  But if Christianity were really true wouldn’t the people who couldn’t concoct God be the ones that found him the most easily instead of the least easily?

    As I have gotten older I’ve lost the parts of myself I would need to exist to be faith filled.  That doesn’t mean God doesn’t talk to me, it’s just that the conversations normally revolve around wanting me to commit suicide.



  • War Doodle

    I’ve lived in an unstable country. I was nine years old. My father was a pastor of an English speaking church for expatriates in San Salvador, El Salvador. It was not a very stable country to begin with. There was an imitation Burger King we went to once that some guerilla blew up with a car bomb. To be fair there were really no good guys, the El Salvadorian government fighting these guerillas would kidnap, kill and torture dissidents and even sympathetic clergy and intellectuals. But once the Soviet backed guerillas saw the Berlin wall fall they knew their funding was going to dry up soon so this was their last chance to try to take the capital.

    We lived in a walled complex that included the church my father pastored, a gift shop, and a parsonage we lived in. The day of the first night of the offensive we had been warned by a church member high up in the military to stay home and cancel all church activities. We were nervous. I was playing a space invaders clone on a Commodore 64 with a green monitor. Then the shooting started. At first it was far away but as the night drew on it got closer. You are probably familiar with how you have to go to a certain part of the house in the event of a tornado. It’s similar for a war and the place furthest away from stray bullets was the hallway that ran through the center of the house. Our family dragged our mattresses out to the hall way and tried to sleep there. We kids were told that we were Americans and guerillas wouldn’t dare kill us because of the repercussions for their movement (as Americans funded the El Salvadorian government). This argument doesn’t make any sense to me now but I accepted it then and kept me from being as scared as I probably should have been.

    My drawing book changed from surfers and T&C Surf designs to more serious imagery very quickly.

    Our church had a large window facing a mountain (I think it was a dormant volcano) where the guerillas were holed up. You couldn’t really see the fighting but you could see flares that would go up sometime

     

    November 16, 1989 (lines in pencil)

    Guns went off Saturday night. From then on we’ve been sleeping in the hall.
    We got a color TV.
    Nobody can go on the street from 6pm to 6am

    Yeah we were under marshal law. From the start of the war until we left only one parent at a time would leave the compound we lived in. That was because having them both killed would be a lot worse than just one of them. The seemingly innocuous line “we got a color TV” is darker than it sounds because we got that TV because the guy we knew was killed by a stray shell while closing the gate to his compound. It was either his or his friend’s (who left the country quickly) TV.

    November 18, 1989

    It’s a little eerie the seemingly trivial statements in colorful marker like “I like Monopoly” interspersed with bits about the war zone all around us. But I was nine and probably on the autistic spectrum so was immature for my age. But the statements remind us all that even in a war zone the seemingly trivial things of life go on. It was also amazing that the power stayed on most of the time (I have always slept with a fan and was particularly overjoyed about it during that period of my journal). Running water also continued to work though it was never safe to drink.

    Nov 20, 1989

    I got a radio clock and guns went off again. By now some nights we would sleep in our rooms and then move to the hall way if the gunfire got bad. Also our new color TV worked great with our Commodore 64 so we’d the kid’s favorite video game, California Games.

    November 22. 1989 (in pencil)

    Guns went off a lot Tuesday.
    I saw a flare!
    We went in the gift shop Tuesday
    We’re moving
    We took today off.

    The day before this entry was perhaps the scariest part of the whole experience of instability. We lived less than a mile away from the presidential palace which was often under attack. Someone was launching mortars. We all lined up and then went down to the gift shop which had the most reinforced concrete over it. For some reason I remember watching cartoons there, but I don’t know if this is a false memory.

    Another drawing from the time, not sure if it’s supposed to be a bullet or not.

    This is from the drawing book after we moved to Costa Rica. It shows the dates when there was the most fighting.

    This is the passport stamp of our leaving El Salvador.  We got out of there to our grandparent’s house in Costa Rica as soon as the airport opened though my dad stayed another 3 weeks.

    We were lucky that we were American citizens and had relatives in Costa Rica which was a lot easier to fly to then the U.S.