I guess it's not giving away too much location info to say that I live in Indiana's 5th Congressional District. Yeah, it's not jerrymandered at all, you can tell by the shape. Our elected representative is Dan Burton. I have a problem with this guy representing me on a number of levels.
1) Only 18% of his campaign contributions come from within his own state
2) He is one of the most conservative members of Congress
3) He's one of the thimerosol/vaccine alarmists
One person who knows this is the Secretary of the Hamilton County Libertarian Party, who at the moment is sitting in his robe slurping coffee and catching up on the news on a 10 year old Powerbook. The HCLP is always looking for candidates for office. Our district is so heavily Republican that a dead cat would be elected to office as long as his name appeared as Zombie Kitty (R). The only hope is the Libertarian party, which most people around here at least do recognize as being fiscally conservative (the fact that we're incredibly socially liberal seems to escape notice). A properly placed Libertarian could probably swing enough of the Democrat vote to get elected along with the demoralized Republicans who also happen to think Mr. Burton is a joke. This has not gone undiscussed with Mr. Melanistic Penguin and apparently the rest of the HCLP would just crap themselves with joy if I chose to run.
Why? First of all, even though I work for the pharmaceutical company that created thimerosol, for obvious reasons he can't possibly use it against me without looking like a complete tool. Second, I'm smarter and prettier than he is. We all know by now how important being pretty is to the conservatives, the difference here being that, unlike Caribou Barbie, I'm not a clueless moron. According to people who know me, I also present myself very well and I'm oddly persuasive. That's weird, but I guess it's true.
The reason I can't run is two-fold. One, getting out and talking to people would be very draining for me. Two, I might actually win. I've spent my entire life since I was 18 honing my career, but I'd have to kill it to go to Washington. Could I really do that? I don't know. A couple of years ago, that would have been a clear "no" but now my feelings are much less clear. Working in Corporate America is becoming an increasingly soul-crushing experience and, frankly, I wouldn't mind a change. But the bigger answer is that sometimes you've just got to stand up and do something. Cause a fuss and make a difference. How can I look at my kids and tell them I'm a responsible citizen when I'm too chicken shit to just run for office? That bothers me. It would be hard, but my original goal in life was to join the Air Force and become an astronaut, so that doesn't really bother me.
I'm gonna go hop on the bike and over-analyze some more. I have until April 15th to decide.
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Friday, April 2, 2010
Growing up with Asperger's
Today is Autism Awareness Day. I thought I'd jot down some random disconnected thoughts about my experience as a high-functioning autistic.
I've never felt human. I don't know what humans feel like, exactly, but I'm pretty sure I'm not like that. As far back in my childhood as I can remember I was different. At some point I decided I wasn't actually human ... I was an exile living amongst them, condemned to a life of isolation with the poo-throwing monkeys.
When other kids were reading their books I devoured entire biographies of Joan of Arc, Elizabeth I, and Queen Victoria. History books, science books, you name it, I read it. My mind is kind of like Wikipedia as an adult except that the links are surreal. I tend to blurt out strange things as a result. Example: my sister started talking about some new candy bar she had eaten and why she had liked it. My response: "I had Rolos last week." *awkward silence* Yes, I sounded like a complete retard. But somehow the link makes sense to me. Here's how it went (except no words, it's more pictures and sensations):
candy bars ... what are my favorite candy bars? ... Hmm, I like Rolos ... I had some Rolos last week ... Twix ... they're kinda like Rolos with a cookie inside! ... hunh, both of them are chocolate and caramel ... do I especially like candy bars with chocolate and caramel? ... yeah, I like Milky Ways ... but not Three Musketeers ... Three Musketeers have the nougat but not the caramel, so that's a good control ...
Out of the box thinking? I don't even have a box.
As a child I would feel horribly awkward and sink into myself. As an adult I've come to realize that there's a certain segment of the population that actually finds this charming (I suspect this population also can recite Monty Python sketches verbatim). Luckily, I've found some of them.
I've never felt human. I don't know what humans feel like, exactly, but I'm pretty sure I'm not like that. As far back in my childhood as I can remember I was different. At some point I decided I wasn't actually human ... I was an exile living amongst them, condemned to a life of isolation with the poo-throwing monkeys.
When other kids were reading their books I devoured entire biographies of Joan of Arc, Elizabeth I, and Queen Victoria. History books, science books, you name it, I read it. My mind is kind of like Wikipedia as an adult except that the links are surreal. I tend to blurt out strange things as a result. Example: my sister started talking about some new candy bar she had eaten and why she had liked it. My response: "I had Rolos last week." *awkward silence* Yes, I sounded like a complete retard. But somehow the link makes sense to me. Here's how it went (except no words, it's more pictures and sensations):
candy bars ... what are my favorite candy bars? ... Hmm, I like Rolos ... I had some Rolos last week ... Twix ... they're kinda like Rolos with a cookie inside! ... hunh, both of them are chocolate and caramel ... do I especially like candy bars with chocolate and caramel? ... yeah, I like Milky Ways ... but not Three Musketeers ... Three Musketeers have the nougat but not the caramel, so that's a good control ...
Out of the box thinking? I don't even have a box.
As a child I would feel horribly awkward and sink into myself. As an adult I've come to realize that there's a certain segment of the population that actually finds this charming (I suspect this population also can recite Monty Python sketches verbatim). Luckily, I've found some of them.
The Strange Relationship I Have With My SatNag
One of the benefits of being highly visually oriented is that I have an excellent memory for maps. I have rarely gotten lost if I've seen a map of a place. Also, if I've been somewhere once I can get there again >90% of the time. Coupled with an excellent memory, it means I rarely get lost. Thus I developed something of a derisive attitude towards SatNav systems. I have an atlas, why do I need one? Well, it turns out what I really wanted one for was realtime traffic updates.
Thus I have acquired a TomTom XL, which is now a fixture on my windshield. But already I have developed an odd relationship with it. Many trips to Cape Hatteras with people who had SatNavs convinced me that one of the pure joys of having one was picking a voice that your passengers despised with the burning intensity of a thousand suns. Apparently there's nothing more amusing than torturing your trapped friends and family with an incredibly annoying voice for hours on end. I suspect SatNav Rage is an underreported crime. Which is why my TomTom happily chides me in the slurry tones of Eddie Izzard ("Thank God you're here, I can shut up now").
This isn't my problem. My problem is that TomTom tries to tell me what to do, and I don't like it. I got a SatNag and I'm annoyed it functions properly. Fucking bizarre, nicht war?
So, I have taken to toying with it. I've intentionally not taken a turn it wants me to take just to make it "recalculate" and annoy it. It's a computer, I know that, but still I find it strangely satisfying.
Here's my other problem, I suspect that I have unintentionally acquired some sort of greater public responsibility. TomTom allegedly updates a database with real data to decide on the fastest route. What if you, like me, intentionally ignore its advice when you know it's wrong? How will the Mythical TomTom Database ever learn? It will never gather the data it needs if some of us don't make a small sacrifice of time. I'm serious, I'm actually wondering this.
Being hyperanalytical sucks sometimes.
Thus I have acquired a TomTom XL, which is now a fixture on my windshield. But already I have developed an odd relationship with it. Many trips to Cape Hatteras with people who had SatNavs convinced me that one of the pure joys of having one was picking a voice that your passengers despised with the burning intensity of a thousand suns. Apparently there's nothing more amusing than torturing your trapped friends and family with an incredibly annoying voice for hours on end. I suspect SatNav Rage is an underreported crime. Which is why my TomTom happily chides me in the slurry tones of Eddie Izzard ("Thank God you're here, I can shut up now").
This isn't my problem. My problem is that TomTom tries to tell me what to do, and I don't like it. I got a SatNag and I'm annoyed it functions properly. Fucking bizarre, nicht war?
So, I have taken to toying with it. I've intentionally not taken a turn it wants me to take just to make it "recalculate" and annoy it. It's a computer, I know that, but still I find it strangely satisfying.
Here's my other problem, I suspect that I have unintentionally acquired some sort of greater public responsibility. TomTom allegedly updates a database with real data to decide on the fastest route. What if you, like me, intentionally ignore its advice when you know it's wrong? How will the Mythical TomTom Database ever learn? It will never gather the data it needs if some of us don't make a small sacrifice of time. I'm serious, I'm actually wondering this.
Being hyperanalytical sucks sometimes.
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