Diagnosis of Wandering

This morning, I read a horrific story in the LA Times about an 8-year-old autistic boy who went missing in the Angeles National Forest. He was thankfully found safe, but it was obviously very scary nonetheless. It is people like these who may require a label or diagnosis of "wandering" so that people will know to take extra precaution to keep them safe. Of course, Ari Ne'eman and his ASAN are against this label, for fear that it would be "stigmatizing." Neurodiversity claims to prevent stigma, but they actually do a pretty good job of creating it. My belief as to why Ari Ne'eman opposes this diagnosis is that he is so self-righteous that he cannot possibly see himself necessitating a "wandering" label. That statement alone may be true in of itself, but one must also keep in mind that Ari Ne'eman is not autism. Despite the fact that he himself may not need a "wandering" label, he as absolutely no right at all to say that, on behalf of all autistic people, that he opposes a "wandering" label. It may be needed in several cases, and it can save lives. I myself would never need a "wandering" label, but I do not go around saying that if I don't need it then nobody does, because that is simply not true. Many people do need it, and I am not in the least afraid to admit to that. Another bogus line of Ari Ne'eman's is that non-verbal autistic children who wander must be allowed to do so because that is supposedly their only way of communicating. First of all, Ari Ne'eman has no psychology degree whatsoever, so I have absolutely no idea why he thinks he knows this. Also, if that is indeed the case, it would be even more of a reason to necessitate the label, not less. A child who only communicates by wandering or attempting to wander (assuming that is indeed true) does not justify having his life endangered by the lack of a label simply due to fear of stigmatization. Of course, Ari Ne'eman also opposes teaching non-verbal autistic children to talk, which could also help greatly with the wandering issue. The stories like today's and countless others just only go to show how badly this label is necessitated. Anyone who simply fears being stigmatized is ignorant to the fact that these autistic people are putting their own lives at risk. We need to stop the ASAN now for the betterment of society, and we need to realize that they do not really care about autistic people in the least.

CAA Act Renewed

Well, there is some slightly good news today, as the Senate has finally decided to renew the Combating Autism Act, much to the chagrin of Ari Ne'eman, even though he wouldn't have his government post if it wasn't for this act. The fact that neurodiversity opposes this act is truly appalling, and they prove that they actually don't give a shit about autistic people. If they did, they'd all cure themselves via chelation. At least there are autistic people like me who see through their bullshit and realize that our disease needs to be cured. If only autistic people would listen to me. Then they'd know the truth.

I Booed Raffi

When I was 2 years old, I went to go see Raffi (who was my favorite singer at the time) at the Palace Theater in New Haven, Connecticut (where I then lived). I of course loved the music, so to show Raffi my great appreciation, I clapped my hands and said, "Boo!" I thought boo meant yay. This was due to my autism, which causes confusion of facts. Nobody knows why exactly I thought this, but there are a couple of theories out there. The first theory is that I heard someone say boo at a baseball game and just figured that it meant yay. Another one is that I knew that woo meant yay, so I just figured that boo also meant yay. I don't know which one it was, or if it was a combination of both. My parents didn't know that I was autistic back then, and they thought I was smart when I was in fact mentally retarded. They figured that I was just being snide and sarcastic and my dad even booed along with me, and that only added to my confusion. I didn't finally realize that boo meant boo until several years later, when I learned the Purim story. It was when I was in kindergarten (around the same time as the Sparky incident) and my mom was telling me how when you say the name of Haman (who is the bad guy), you say "Boo!" I naturally figured "Well, you wouldn't say yay for a bad guy," and that is when I figured out the truth. Another phrase that I thought meant yay was "schoff crunch." This was again in New Haven but this time we were at an orchestra concert on the New Haven Green where they played the Blue Danube Waltz, which is also played in the Spongebob Squarepants episode "Jellyfishing." Anyway, we were there with our neighbor Michal, and the concert was over, Michal started clapping and said "Schoff, schoff crunch." I figured that meant yay, and then went about my business. Then, when we were at an Easter party, I stood on top of the slide, started clapping and said "Schoff crunch!" My parents figured that I was mimicking bunny rabbit sounds (because it was Easter), but I was just saying yay. There you have it, folks. Had I been cured of autism via chelation at the Yale Child Study Center, I would not have subjected myself to this embarrassment.