The times we live in: critics of Elon Musk are getting de-verified on X and at the same time are just garbage people: Preston here opened with a shot at Musk’s neurodiversity and this is my disappointed-not-surprised face.
It’s been a while since I’d written anything that inspired the kind of vitriol this did. Might retool it since it was kind of a one-off and some issues raised seem worth re-examining. dansmock.medium.com/israel-ub…
Hardest part (in this moment, anyway) about learning later in life that I’m on the spectrum is the realization that accommodation is a part of my life now. Helpful, just not always liberating. smock.blog/2024/12/2…
Safe Zones
Thursday, December 26, 2024
I used to be an asshole, now I’m just autistic. Back then I wasn’t a people person. Today I’m neurodiverse and exhausted by neurotypicals. Before I could just get over things, now I’m needing accommodation. I’d tell you I don’t know where this is going, but I can see it from here, the winding path deep into navel country. Journeying into the self, past the ego, waving at the id, doing what I can to excavate something of me from the wreckage of what I thought I knew about myself.
Out walking this morning and because pre-dawn rocking the Noxgear and got a “Merry Christmas. That’s pretty cool” and I of course said “Merry Christmas…thanks” and now I’m worried my neighbors see me as THAT guy who’s way into Christmas well past the point at which that’s appropriate.
Airpark. Fog advisory.
Wednesday, December 25, 2024 →
Instead of my usual “Just Google it” I opted to explain “pixelated bukkake” in a group setting so thank you Cards Against Humanity for the Best Christmas Ever.
Call Me Icarus
Wednesday, December 25, 2024
It’s Christmas morning and I feel like I’m supposed to have words about miracles, magic, and the mayhem of joy that surrounds the hijacking of a pagan fun time in the woods by crass capitalism where we all sit around either a dying tree or a fake one and convince ourselves that the game of gift roulette where we all pretend to be overcome by joy because whatever it is well, it’s just what we always wanted is bringing us closer as a family.
Wednesday, December 25, 2024 →
The closest thing to angel’s trumpets this morning were the joints reminding me that yes I’m of that age where yard work needs a recovery day.
Wednesday, December 25, 2024 →
As close as I’ll get to a Christmas post today:
This is the guy who was born today.
Would You Like To Play A Game?
Tuesday, December 24, 2024
We don’t have a lot of plans for Christmas Eve, or Christmas, or the New Year’s. I’ve been told there’s a trip to Cidercade today, following a foray into a Costco to provision a meal with a few friends who don’t have family here, either. If there was a case for the death of capitalism, it would be a Costco the day before Christmas. I rarely played video games as a kid, except when the neighbor would invite me over on occasion to play Pitfall on the Atari.
In the movies the nerds were always the good guys, the underdogs who took on the establishment and showed everyone it was OK to be nerdy. What we’re learning from Musk, Zuckerberg, and Bezos is that if you give anyone enough money, they’ll shove the rest of us right into the locker.
I suspect I’m going to be doing more longer things like this one I did right after the election that apparently upset at least one uncle based on his FB post in response.
Still figuring out what I’m doing webwise, but I’ve tinkered with fiction over the years, and in case you’re wondering what that can look like, here’s something I wrote about the guy Jesus took His sweet time raising from the dead.
> I have passed by the watchman on his beat > > And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.
It’s from one of my favorite Robert Frost poems, and sums up perfectly walking alone at night in a place without sidewalks or streetlamps, my only purpose to outrun the day behind me. And I don’t care to explain that to passersby. I owe them nothing, but still, that obligation tugs, sometimes gently, informing me of the terms of a contract I never reviewed, never signed, and want desperately to see revised.
First heard this from Dan John: Solvitur ambulando, or “it is solved by walking”, and doing a couple miles after arguing with gravity and kettlebells does wonders for my mood going into the morning.
Went down a bit of a rabbit hole after learning that the same people that brought you Sea Monkees also sold stuffed girl’s heads for $2.98 and that some version of that featured in an Animals TV appearance singing “It’s My Life” and how few people mention that in the comments. h/t Dangerous Minds
“If you want to have horrible teeth, take a lot of fentanyl.” – Technically, he’s not wrong, but…
This Apprentice reboot is wild. How long before Musk tells him he’s fired?
Ben sounds fun. www.linkedin.com/feed/upda…