SQUARESPACE Business Model: Kill Golden Geese Daily


          See those metaphorical tight little spaces inside the adjacent squarespace logo?  Like entering an IKEA store, you are not supposed to be able to find what you are looking for—or get out—in a simple, end-user-familiar manner.  Their business model appears to be (from a month of personal experience):
  • Impress geese (who have an ability to lay small golden eggs for life) with high-end ubiquitous marketing and impressively up-to-date, shiny, shit.
  • Kill geese while removing gold egg.
  • Discard goose carcass. 
  • Wash hands.
  • Rinse.
  • Repeat.
          This year, I began to move this blog to a modern pay site.  In the (near? not-so near?) future, I will "go live" on snapperhead.space which was, obviously, only available at squarespace dot com.  For one more tiny golden egg, I can transfer this domain to a different host.  Yes, squarespace, you may consider that a threat.

          I sent squarespace this email and have not received a response.

          Want to know why some fantastic computer games fail?  Because their designers are “too innovative.”  This is a lesson you at squarespace need to heed.  I am three steps away from taking my sites to a more user-friendly home and requesting a refund for my year (before ever going live).

          I just spent ten minutes trying to FIND OUT HOW to change my credit card info (my old card got hacked the day I used it to pay for squarespace - just a correlation, not a causation).  It is not under my Profile; Accounts & Security.  Also, there's no explanation where to find it at Accounts & Security.

          I feel, at this point, you—squarespace-email-reader/responder—might need to have this explanation provided, because you are stuck in your paradigm - and you think “your way is a better way”.  Every other company, which I pay a subscription to, puts payment in a prominent place in my account or profile - or - they tell you where it is placed.  You hide yours.

          Related:  Your FAQ works fine.  Type update credit card; answer is available.

          Related:  Your CONTACT US works like a computer game that wants to test your temerity and willingness to solve the puzzle.  It took me another ten minutes to find a way to send you this email.

          The end of every subject tree ended with another branch of sentences, and a “Do you still want to contact us?  take a screenshot and ...”   WTF squarespace - you need to get out of your own way.

          All this does is tell me you hate emails from customers.  You despise reading complaints.  And, you do not intend to ever peek out at what the industry is doing differently / more efficiently / gaining customer satisfaction better at, than you.

          You need to hire “secret shopper type” users to crawl around inside your over-designed sleek and impressive rabbits warren of a site and make things better or you are going to lose to Wix or Wave or whatever other new site is making things fun and simple, instead of more complicated, on the user end.

          -Veach Glines

I am not surprised they did not respond.  Are you?

Semalt SEO Scam - a Blogger's Perspective

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Hire An Older Worker (Covid19 meme)



          This flyer was posted on the bulletin board at my office (temporary job with the US Census Bureau).  It is a legitimate form published by the US Department of Labor - Senior Community Service Employment Program (SCSEP) encouraging employers to Hire An Older Worker.

          Obviously, I added the parenthetical phrase containing too much punctuation and too many capitalized words (because the actual form is humorously over punctuated/capitalized).  The form is about the size of a large book-marker, probably designed by a retired grammar teacher who idolized Ben Franklin (200 years and still not a more appropriate poster-codger?), and they had no training in visual design.

          If you think my attempt at humor is insensitive, cool your jets high-speed and consider the number of elderly who will not get tested by a doctor because the Medicare program they are enrolled in has a deductible or a co-pay (or both) and a $100 doctor bill means a week without groceries.

          Medicare-For-All is not the gold standard (no matter what Bernie Sanders says).  Most elderly people I know (or have known) carry an additional insurance policy to cover the 20% Medicare does not cover, or to bridge the gap between the exponentially large cost of prescription medications (not covered by Medicare or Medicaid) or to pay for anything over Medicare's annual cap.

          Veterans-Health-Care-For-All is the tarnished-gold standard.  With all the flaws of a VA hospital or clinic, they do not send you a bill, or cover only 80% or have a cap on annual services.

Sommerzeit's Mailbox





other mailbox art:
AULDLANGSYNE's Mailbox
 Avril Poisson's Mailbox
ÔSTARA's Mailbox
Serling's Mailbox



some image excerpts by Chad Abromovich at Obscure Vermont and by Jamie Wheeler

trichotillomania or alopecia or scabies (oh-my)

          "Good stuff back?  Good?"

          "Nah.  Tray full-a pumpkin bread.  That'z zit."

          "Paws.  How many brightcycles has it been GerAld?  Feels like more than two full paws!"

          "RanDal, dere'z corn-grease in-a cage up here.  Also, the tallones up-next-over-there still haz thiztle seedz.  But GerAld don mind sweet bread here.  Not like da-normal brown stuff.  Kind-a niz.  Muz-a gave tithe thiz mornin cauze not hard yet."

          "Yea.  Saw tallone with colors ontop placing the tithe two naps ago.  Went down to mine because sand-colored-quiet-predator was out at the same time.  Then forgot.  Yea."

          "Smell anythin down low?  Whoah.  Da-spook goin on wid your tail RanDal!  You tryin-a look zactly like GerAld?"

          "Oh this?  Yea.  Well.  No.  RahNee said.  After over visiting yours after last-longsleep.  RahNee especially appreciated how LouAnn has used all GerAld's tailshed as lining.  Said it was shit-hole amazing how much warmer and more comfortable Ger-Ann's is.  So.  RahNee pulled some of RanDal's.  To line Ran-Nee's.  Oh."

          "Old-silent-owlz up-da-moonz-azz dat muz-a hurt!  Mine fallz out on itz own.  Know all bout dat?  Right RanDal?  Bout all my rattailz GerAld hairz?"

          "Yea.  Well.  No.  LouAnn told RahNee.  Last greencycle.  Tailshed runs in GerAld kin, yea."

          "That'z waz laz-greencyclez story.  Now.  But, fore last bright moon.  Went spookin.  Round-acroz danger-stone river.  Near the widewater crossin?"

          "Wow.  Scary.  Never been that far.  Scary-wow, wow."

          "Saw DelMar wid samez tailshedz."

          "Thought DelMar sqasked by machine on rocky-stone river.  Cackel-black-owl food.  Thought?"

          "Dat waz DalMar.  Iz not Dall.  Dell.  DelMar?"

          "Yea.  Well.  No.  New name.  Yea."

          "DelMar'z no kin of GerAld.  DelMar iz tuftearz-kin.  Not obviouz.  Have-ta look close.  Now.  DelMar iz startin kin with ShaLoo.  RanDal knowz bout ShaLoo?  RanDal liztenin?"

          "Yea.  Well.  No.  Hear loud-black-clumx-predator.  Claws on wall.  Might need to climb.  If tall one opens wall.  Listen.  Know little about ShaLoo from other-talk.  Yea."

          "ShaLoo haz bezt tailhair lined kin den.  Ever.  Bezt bezt.  Get me?"

          "Yea.  Well.  No.  You nap with DelMar in, in Del-Loo?  Yea?"

          "No!  Shitz-bath RanDal.  Lizten.  Two greencyclez back.  GerAld waz spookin and ShaLoo wanted ta spook.  GerAld spent almoz entire floodz-cycle in ShaLoo'z.  Next moon I lose a patch of tailhair.  Also.  DelMar never had tailshed before now.  And he tells me..."

          "Oh.  ShaLoo is giving it away.  Oh."

          "Atz right.  RanDal?  Maybez not tell RahNee?  LouAnn might chaze me outta the much warmer and more comfortable tailshed-lined Ger-Ann's.  Maybe wait til coldcyclez overz an mudcyclez started ta tellz RahNee?"

          "Sure.  One condition.  Nap together for a few paws, until a patch falls out of mine.  The old three-hole-skunk-burrow lost smell but is much-still-axoided, sure."

          "Whatz da fox-bat-spook ..?!"

          "Nap GerAld.  Not spook.  RanDal and GerAld are kin.  Does RanDal remember GarAnn's sister was RayDol's nan?  Remember RanDal?  Nap."

          "Who knowz kin back seven nanz?"

          "RahNee knows kin back twenty nanz.  RahNee talks.  RanDal listens.  Want to start kin with RahNee and never spook again.  Tailshed is a prize RahNee will cherish.  No more plucking pain for RanDal and RanNee's will be warm and comfy."

          "Okz.  Napz it iz, cuzin RanDal, GerAld'z rattailed kin.  Napz it iz.  And.  GerAld'z gonna borrow comfy from RanDal.  Warm and comfy.  Nize."


more fiction storiez connected with photoz:
  Hue, Sue, and SF Heros
   

Haiku 装飾 舗装 5-7-5 俳句 Asfault Ernate






snow on asphalt – trees
pertness – nude ’tween neck and knees
fingers – rule of threes











image excerpt by Craig Morey at MoreyStudio

                              All the Albans



o that quiet closeout dimming pretty wonderful February day
as we carefully creep, using don’t-fall-shins, in St Albans Bay

not a-top the crack-solid homonymous bay of Lake Champlain
but on its shore in the village bafflingly bearing its samename

as we slush thru a concentrated current of babypoo sewer gas
I must wonder why St Albans Town surrounds with all its mass

fools following foolish footsteps — severe imagination-dearth
or, did Albans Town gouge Albans City from mid-self in mirth

Albans:  Point, Bays, Shire, Town, City & English protomartyr
lost their mind and their head (summer add a boating harbor)

guillotine blade St Albans Town, jurisd-enclave St Albans City
taxservice puzzle-zones: could smell a source of winter shitty



other Vermont uniquenesses:

Haiku ほ 5-7-5 俳句 HO




Francis "Freak" Storm knocks
HO outta HOTEL, denting
hzr snowplow slightly

modicum of self-awareness


          Normal is everyone.

          NEFND is actively not recruiting.

          Consider yourself a nonmember of the nonexistent fellowship of the neurodiverse?  Then, I have your nonmembership card.  Tell me where to send it.

           When you pushed the button to power the object, which you are currently looking at, you were thinking concretely.  This is me—as writer—drawing attention to the fact that you—as reader—are touching tangible objects (even if you are floating in space's micro-gravity, without clothing, listening to a galactic podcast of these words, your entire body is touching the nitrogen-oxygen compound, which you are breathing in).  The objects you are touching exist.  Time is passing as you read.  All this is your individual empirical reality.

          (Even if someone ink-on-paper-ized this essay for an unfortunate someone with no electric-power)—everyone's brain gathers information from their senses.  All empirical knowledge is gained from our senses.  Time may pass at different speeds for different people (a scientific fact for the hypothetical person in space compared to the hypothetical person reading by candlelight) but that fact is not empirical.  That fact is an abstract concept.

          If you can think abstractly, when you were reading the two previous parenthetical phrases (which both began with the word even) you briefly pictured—in your mind’s eye—a naked person floating in space, breathing Nitrox, and a person on earth reading by candlelight.

          If your mind’s eye did not engage—there may be another way to determine if you are capable of abstract thought. 

          Think about what makes up the person who is you.  Consider your past thoughts and actions as well as your plans for your future self.  If what you visibly 'look like' to others / in a mirror / on social media, intrudes into your thoughts, push those images into the background.  Where do "you fit" into the following characteristics:
  • What are some of your personal values?  How important are they?  List five in order of importance. 
    • Specifically:  If you value honesty in yourself (and others) how often do you catch yourself being dishonest?  Do you force yourself to tell hard truths or do you slip into easy white lies?  Do you apologize when you have been untruthful or do you find excuses for continuing to be dishonest? 
    • Some examples of values:  trustworthiness, work ethic, punctuality, empathy, spacial-awareness, quality of your listening and observing, health awareness, spend-thriftiness, forthrightness, selfishness vs selflessness, mettle. 
  • Think about a few pass-times or hobbies which are important to you.  Do you set time aside for yourself and the mental/physical endeavors you enjoy or are you a "people pleaser" who prefers to participate in the pass-times of others?  Are there any changes you might prefer to make when considering your current dynamic? 
  • Are you happy?  Content?  What is your well-being most connected to or influenced by? (e.g. wealth, education, love, creativity, career, self-awareness, geographic location)
    • What is it about yourself that most pleases you?
    • When / where / with whom are you most content? 
    • What (within your control) could you change to improve your situation?
  • Future planning plays how important a role to your present self?
    • How often have you accomplished previous plans you made?
    • If you think planning for your future is important, but rarely accomplished previous plans, are you Ok with this conflict between desire and outcome?  Is there something you could do to alter this pattern of behavior? 
  • What habit(s) or routine(s) do you least admire in yourself?
    • Examples:  procrastination, addiction, ability/inability to "say no", ability/inability to confront or accept confrontation, openness to praise and criticism, laziness, gluttony. 
          Imagine each of your answers as fitting into their own circle.  Each circle will have a different size depending on how important they are to you (someone who mountain bikes and skis and reads books and loves foreign films and enjoys to travel will have a much larger circle for their pass-time characteristic than someone who watches TV after work and sleeps late on weekends [both may be equally content]).  Imagine all the circles on top of each other—a Venn-diagram of "who you are in your own mind."  Add more circles (I only listed five characteristics . . . there could be dozens).  

          In my previous article on Asperger's I stated, '...NEFND only requests its nonmembers strive to possess a modicum of self-awareness...',  By considering the above characteristics you have not only thought abstractly about yourself, you began the process of becoming self-aware.  The next step involves focusing on details.

          Everyone's characteristics (like in my analogy of a Venn-diagram) change when they are viewed as a whole—one on top of the other.  Some characteristics are completely covered by others (e.g. nobody knows your flavor of sexual fetish unless you share it).  Other characteristics are at-times hidden and other-times not-hidden because of timing and opportunity (the only people who know you suck at Karaoke are the other bar patrons).

          Your examination of the gestalt that is you requires a willingness to determine what part(s) of your behavior(s) could be causing friction with people around you (or, within yourself).  Improving your own well-being is not simple.  But the first step is becoming aware that you have the power to improve you.
          Have you decided that this is not something you need to do?  Then—two things—I am amazed you read this far, and ask you to consider this last question:  When someone says, “How're you?”  Do you think they want to hear what's going on in your head at that moment?  That they want to know about your headache?  They are really asking for you to talk about the strange dream you had this morning?  Or are you capable of realizing they are just doing that everyday-'merican-faux-polite thing and savvy enough to just answer with the expected: "Fine. How bout you?"

          Final point:  When a human resources employer asks you to, "Tell them a recent challenge that you have overcome," they do not want to hear another applicant explain their struggles with being a perfectionist; they are just trying to determine if you are self-aware.  They want to hire people who are open to criticism, can apologize when they make a mistake, and are capable of empathizing with co-workers.  Become self-aware.  Then your answer to that question can be a brief explanation on how you overcame that challenge.


more values and abstract thought observations:


NEFND


          In a prior article about my Asperger's traits I explain the impetus behind the design of the nefnd emblem.  At the risk of redundancy, the acronym NEFND—approximately the word for named or for committee in Icelandic (Íslenska)—only requests its nonmembers strive to possess a modicum of self-awareness, humor, and a functioning conscience.  There are millions of proud qualified-nonmembers; I am one.

          The nonexistent fellowship of the neurodiverse (NEFND) recommends—to qualified and unqualified alike—that the engendered behaviors, resulting from the differently-wired neurons of qualified-nonmembers, be considered prima facie routinely accepted.  Normal is everyone.  Qualified-nonmembers should not be coerced to conform to the behaviors of unqualified-nonmembers, nor should attempts be made to fix, repair, or cure their (our) non-pathological behaviors.

          At the risk of being crudely re-redundant:  normal is everyone.  Nefnd is actively not recruiting.  If you consider yourself a nonmember, you are.  Non-membership cards are a cut-paste-print away (albeit, the clear plastic 2.5 inch squares will require you to contact me - I am giving them away - I will mail you one).
 
more nefnd details:

 

fanart



my idiom du jour : off beaten path – local hidden gem
Rec Area DeForge : off river road – nearby an old dam
thine idiot (yours) : part match DeForge – haw an hem
cause now I’m tore : will it lose – now empty of 'them'
je ne sais quality-lore : with an over-full tiny lot – when
off⇡path⇣app explore : Bolton Falls – a picnic idyllic glen
distant from : Bolton VT – an' Duxbury dislikes this poem
from last October : I share – my best friend's leaf spectrum

other seasonal art-poems
 Haiku 小道 5-7-5 俳句 Path
hey there below | moiaq ajayf hau
 D’Abord Stalactite de Glace
 Winterfall


anger avalanche (remembered and explained)

          In 1983, I received orders from the US Army.  I was to be stationed the entire next year in South Korea, separated from my then-wife and infant son.  My wife and I decided to find an apartment for the two of them in my home town, where she could work during my year overseas.  Fortuitously (I thought when I learned of it) my step-father and mother were planning an upcoming two-week vacation without my 15 year-old half-sister (because she'd be in school).  I asked my mother if my immediate family could stay in their guest room during that vacation, in order to apartment hunt (I assumed they would welcome an adult and car for errands and emergencies).  

          "No," I was told. "Your sister has been promised unsupervised-use of the house.  Her boyfriend has a car."

          Wow.  Unexpected financial stress (paying for a motel in my hometown while four bedrooms sit empty in my family's house) combined with parental favoritism (always visible, rarely this overt) and jealousy (rarely an unsupervised hour when I was in high school...but she's permitted a fortnight) became anger.  Sticky anger.

          Over the next several years I didn't reply to the handful of letters sent by my mother or step-father—all I recall in the letters was their ruminations on my lack of religion and their lack of an apology.  During those years I divorced my then-wife, my sons were adopted by her second husband, I married a Korean woman, and completed a few more overseas and stateside tours.  Eventually (six years later, in 1989) I wrote my mother and step-father and asked to visit and introduce my second-wife to them.

          Using racist verbiage, the gist of my mother's answer:  'You are welcome.  She is not'.

          Which caused my anger to avalanche.

          Many years later (in the 1990s) after realizing my mother's bigotry only explained the last few years of our estrangement, I chuckled-to-myself over the memory of that long-forgotten sticky anger (from 1983) and pondered how those years may have been different if I hadn't stopped communicating with them.

          Had I only been angry because my immediate family member(s) were never welcome in my parents home?  Did I hold my anger because my mother and step-father never apologized?  Would one have occurred without the other?  If I'd never expressed anger and never expected apologies, would those decades have been estrangement-less?

          Is the party who causes someone else to be angry always responsible for an apology?  Is someone else getting angry at you sufficient reason to be angry back?  If so, who should apologize first?  How do insincere apologies fit-in here?  Does just blurting the word 'sorry' (like a bed-wetting preschooler) ever suffice for anything more serious than accidentally stepping on someone's toes?  If not (most have a keen eye for hollow apologies) how does one clearly and concisely communicate one's contrition?  If one is not sorry for feeling anger at the above described decades-long series of being treated terribly by a parent, as I was, what is the fix?     

          Over the decades I've come to realize that, for my mother, it's always others who are unreasonable and always those same others who express unwarranted anger—while she never has reason for apologies.

          Which has taught me I'm not so much my mother's son—I can, and do, say I'm sorry.

          I wrote the above paragraphs of this essay in 2010.  I was unaware what a covert-vulnerable narcissist was at that time.  As a teenager, I knew my younger sister was a classic narcissist, but did not know covert narcissism existed nor that my mother had all the traits of a covert narcissist my entire life.

          When someone asks me to explain "the benefit of knowing psychiatric labels" I tell this story.  Knowing that my mother's behavior can be objectively detailed—as it fluctuated over the years between that of an un-diagnosed sociopath (glib charm, need to control, no conscience) and an un-diagnosed narcissist (no empathy, no remorse, manipulative, pathological liar)—removes my response to her behaviors from the equation.  "Bad parent" explains nothing; "my mother is a narcissistic-sociopath" fills in all the blanks.  It also provides insight as to why we have been on-and-off estranged for 40+ years: when I would point out her traits, she would terminate contact until enough years would pass that I would re-initiate contact and begin the cycle over.  That ended when I "discovered" her mental disorder.

          I can feel maudlin or morose when I see, or hear about, people enjoying the company of their extended family—it's a form of envy; a recognition of something missing in my life.  But, then I focus on the decades of intentionally non-harmonious behavior which was always on theatrical display, by every one of my blood relatives, and smile in recognition that it's all behind me.

          Because the answer to all the rhetorical questions I posed to myself (above, ten years ago) is that none of it was ever my fault; her fake anger and constant lies were all acts of manipulation.

          Someone with no conscience and no empathy can never "miss" the bonding of extended family any more than the computer I am typing on misses me when I turn it off.  My mother has never thought about any of her family members when they are not either sitting in front of her (because they came to visit her, never her-them) or on the other end of a phone (because they called her, never her-them).   If she ever initiated contact, it was with hate-filled chaotic manipulation as her goal.  Learning how her mind works effectively de-fanged and de-clawed the paper tiger.      

          To sorrow I bade good-morrow, and thought to leave her far away behind; but cheerily, cheerily, she loves me dearly...she is so constant to me, and so kind. — John Keats

The Un-Named "90 day Google Experiment"


          I have no reason to suspect a correlation-causation connection between the post I happened to write 4 days ago (on 1 Feb 2020) and the fact that average page views have now returned to their pre-Nov 2019 levels.

          It is certainly only coincidence that yesterday I had exactly 707 views; last month I had over 23,000 views; in the last four months they totaled about 100K, and that the unnamed "google experiment" ended at 0100 today, 5 Feb 2020.  Baseline appears to have returned to zero.  During the "experiment" baseline hovered around 40, which means that at any given moment 40 people on-average were viewing something on snapperhead.

          From now on, I expect views may exceed the pre-Nov 2019 level of an average of 20 per day, but I suspect that can be attributed to a slight increase in interested readers/viewers who have either bookmarked or RSS subscribed.  I estimate that number to be ten to fourteen people.  And, I base that figure on a small-but-noticeable increase in post-specific comments during the "experiment".

          Hello to you twelve viewers!  Welcome back.  You were in a crowd (a throng, if you will) for the last few months, but those members of the "experiment" are elsewhere now.  And, they were never really here.  Not like you are.

          Thank you for your continued interest.  If you are still reading this most-ancillary of ancillary diatribes, you might also be a member of the nonexistent asperger's-are-us fellowship.  One way to know if you are a member is: did you notice that I didn't use a capital A in the nonexistent fellowship's name?  Did you brain-hiccup for a microsecond?  (Did it glitch again when you read the word you in the previous sentence and thought it should-maybe be your?)
       
          Yes?  Did you remember—sorry, of course you did; you remember everything (both a blessing and a curse)—that you can receive your nonexistent fellowship membership card if you let me know via email or comment or em-tele-pathic focus?  I haven't actually designed it yet.  And, yes, that did you remember bit was faux authorial-courtesy.  Wrap your grey-matter around that.  But the nonexistent fellowship card could exist outside of my imagination if there were a demand (for it to exist).

          If you did not have a brain-hiccup, nor a glitch, weeell.  See.  Asperger's is named after a person.  People's names are nouns, which are normally capitalized (in English)*.  I also appreciate your views as well.  I was being facetious when I mentioned e-t-p focus.  That is not a real thing.  I made it up.

          While some of us do share a heightened, empath-level, ability to "read" people (because some of us are inordinately hyper attuned to details, and you-we-everyone constantly communicates non-verbally much more clearly than with your-our vocal chords) we do not have a supernatural ability to transmit our thoughts to others with the traits that have been labeled Asperger's.  Of course we do not.

          We are all nonmembers of the NonExistent Fellowship of the Neuro-Diverse (NEFND) ** and we are actively not recruiting.

          The portion of traits I possess—that Mr Hans Asperger, grouped into a small umbrella-term autistic psychopathy (in his 1944 paper about social-isolation; which came from an idea he stole from a woman)—are, today, known by the eponym Asperger's, and are only a small faction of traits encapsulated by the nonexistent fellowship of the neuro-diverse (name, logo, and acronym contrived/devised in this paper; which contains the massive umbrella-term: neurodiverse, I appropriated stole from a woman named Judy Singer).  [It ain't stealing if you give credit where it is due.]:

     ●     Hyper-sensitive olfactory system.  Smells influence my emotions.  Good smells are amazing for short periods of time.  Some of my favorites are Lilac, Lemon Myrtle, Cinnamon, Creosote, Honeysuckle, Petrichor, and Wintergreen.  Bad smells can be stiflingly or jarringly uncomfortable for even the briefest moments.  My worsts are Alcohol-based-powdered-Rose-Petal (some cheap perfumes and talc body-powders); nicotine and alcoholic-drink-based-sweat; and any strong body/breath odors caused by bacteria.  When I notice the odors, if I can not move a sufficient distance away, I feel my anger rising.  Other feelings caused by bad odors:  headache, melancholy, lack of appetite, inability to focus.

     ●     Hyper-focused on visual details.  When looking at something new, my eye is drawn to minute flaws (easily overlooked by most people).  Over time, I can become accustomed to these minor irregularities and eventually I can either stop noticing them, or at least stop being bothered by them.  This makes me very task-oriented.  Once engaged, I can get lost in the creation or the work.
    
     ●     Intentional lack of eye contact.  Related to my visual-detail hyper-focus, I lose my train-of-thought when/if I stare at a person's face.  I can look people in the eye when they are talking, or if all that is required of me is to answer brief, simple questions, but if I am engaged in an interesting conversation with someone, I have to turn my eyes to a blank space when I formulate my words.  If I look at a person's face, my mind begins to constantly interpret every muscle movement, glance, expression, and tick—an apt analogy: I find it difficult to think about what to say next when you are shouting at me with your body language.

     ●     Urge to collect.  I learned to control my desire to compile items, which provide a pleasurable visual stimulation, very early in my life.  I decided that I would only collect items which fell within a very small set of parameters (size, material, cost, and quality) and then reinforced and updated those parameters as I matured (and my aesthetics changed).  I, currently, have four collections: spheres, knick-knac objet d'art, small green stained glass, and Buff-style hats.

     ●     Disdain small talk.  When I read about the Asperger's category normally labelled:  Possesses low social skills, lack of empathy, inability to read the emotions of others, all I can see is that it was written by an extrovert who believes their way of life is how everyone should live, that they think it's vastly important to be the life of the party and to have hundreds of Facebook friends.  I can read the emotions of others (even while they are staring at their phone) although at least half of people with Asperger's can not.  I would not use the term lack of empathy in this context—I simply say:  I do not enjoy associating with shallow, unintelligent, vapid people.  I am not on Facebook, nor on Twitter.  I hold you in disdain is not the same as I lack empathy for you.

     ●     Verbose.  I attempt to curtail my rants.  I try to edit and shorten my stories.  I am not always successful.  I enjoy "burying the lead."  It seems anti-climactic to tell my BFR story with the intro "how would you like to hear about how an octogenarian got my HMMWV out of a ditch in Korea?" or to start my Clatsop State Forest camping tale with, "Have you heard my mountain lion story?"  I enjoy painting a verbal canvas.  I am verbose.

     ●     Above-average intelligence.  I don't include this one when asked to list the traits face-to-face.   It seems weird that I don't mind being pretentiously disdainful of ignorance, but when pointing out that I'm smarter than most, I shirk away from what feels like braggadocio.


           Normal is everyone and that encompasses a wide range of neurodiverse people . . .          

           Some neurodiverse (qualified-nonmembers of nefnd) have Asperger's traits and can be hyper-sensitive to light, touch, tastes or sounds (or a combination of some or all).  Because these qualified-nonmembers recognized a need to explain their hypersensitivities to the unqualified (as they grew up) they may claim:
  • Sunglasses at night are "because bright lights cause migraines".
  • Don't eat certain foods because "they are allergic" (I enjoy telling people I am a super-taster to explain my avoidance of specific foods).
  • They "dislike crowds" or "are afraid of germs" (instead of saying that casual touching, shaking hands, or being bumped by fellow-concertgoers makes them extremely uncomfortable).
  • They "hate that music" (instead of saying anything at that volume makes them nauseous).
            Some claim their lack of eye contact is because holding eye-contact makes them distressingly uncomfortable or that they feel a mental impulse or pressure to look away (I understand this explanation, but I determined what causes it—in my brain—and how to make mine go away).

          Some have balance issues, awkward gaits, or vocal atonality.  Most of which can be explained by a lack of self-awareness, combined with an early childhood learned-trait to never compare ones own behaviors to that of anyone else (because most unqualified preschoolers are hobgoblins), and a decrease in concern for what all other people think (because they tease you when you tell them what you think).

          Some share Asperger's traits (comorbidity) with "neurological disorders" [I use quotes because yesterday's or today's pathological disorders have been, are, or will be, considered normal (e.g.: depression, anxiety, OCD, ADD, dyslexia)].

           Many with Asperger's are too far along the spectrum to self-analize, quantify, recognize, and/or take steps to ameliorate the more debilitating traits they possess—because of an incapacity to recognize decreased quality-of-life behaviors (e.g. extreme collectors eventually become "hoarders" and the overly verbose, incapable of differentiating/filtering their thoughts and internal dialogue from conversational topics, become "ramblers").   

* Did you read my first use of the prepositional phrase in English and instantaneously wonder what languages, if any, don't capitalize what is referred to as proper nouns in English?  And, when I did not expound with a list of languages, here, are you - now - going to look it up?  I have a free clear-plastic nonmembership card for you.

** The Icelandic word for named or for committee is (approximately) nefnd.  Of course I would know!  Doesn't everyone extensively research their prospective brand name, acronym, and logo?  An acronym which means Named in some other language (or even Committee, which is a visual treat to my brain—three double letters) oh the irony.

Why Redux


          I rarely look at my blog's statistics.  My reason for writing these pages is more about the act of creating than who my audience might be.  I occasionally enjoy looking back at my thoughts from yestermonth; and in a decade or three I'll have a massive record of who I was.  (Hey...stranger things have happened!  Just because my male ancestors on both sides all died before reaching social-security-age...doesn't mean the grim reaper has already penciled-in my reservation. *he says, mentally knocking on wood*)  If I do survive until then, I intend to re-read and peruse this s n a p p e r h e a d to combat or stimulate my senility.

          Today, I learned from my blog's statistics that the post I wrote on 20 November 2009, Life-Mission: Possible, has been read (or at least visited) 512 1,942 unique times.  I crafted that hopefully-funny, quasi-autobiographical post to show how, from childhood to retirement, I selfishly and constantly consumed things, furnishings, appliances, pets, and women.  In the article, I reflected on films and TV shows (like Mission Impossible) as my life's mileage markers.

          I can understand why some of my other posts have been (and will continue to be) so-often visited; they contain adult oriented, often searched, keywords.

          When a page contains more than a couple anatomically explicit words, which your average cock in hand mouth-breather thinks are somehow connotative of sex, it might blow your mind the bucket load of ass-hats who flock to that page.  You get the idea...I don't need to include words like cum, cunt, or fuck to pull in page views...hell...this post (now that it contains all these naughty bits) may surpass 512 visits in less than a month.  The icing on the cake (albeit the word fetish would help it become a shoe in) to guarantee that it becomes the post-with-the-most is a lurid image (or threesome).  Not even a good or explicit pornographic picture, just a light to attract the porn moth's attention.  Maybe just a black and white snapshot which looks like something it isn't.

I THINK YOU KNOW WHY

          I wrote everything above this point in the summer of 2011.  Three months ago, my views jumped from a daily average of 20 to a daily average of 700; the only change—on my part—was an increase in creativity.  Although my art, poems, and personal perspective essays related to philosophy had increased slightly, I do not think that is the reason for a exponentially-large increase in views.  I suspect google made some change in a counting-algorithm and now they count every image as "viewed" if someone scrolls past it in an image search, rather than requiring them to click on it.

          At this point (early 2020) I get more views of my art and poems (and those containing elements, fragments, and composites containing the nude female form get more views than my stories and personal perspectives).
 
          For those who still assume this B&W image is what it is not...the crease is actually between two people.  You can just-barely see the bottom person's neck and their right shoulder and the top person has the bottom person in a head-lock (that's the top person's left shoulder).
 
         Here is a statistical snapshot of cumulative views - 1 Feb 2020:
          This original post (2011) - Why?: 80
          Life-Mission: Possible (2009): 1,942
          Kirby Archer: an Infamous Friend (2007): 4,298
          pareidolia-apophneia (art - 2009): 38
          greypopcorn (art - 2008):  21
          straits of ujod (art - 2019):  2,217
          tang.abstract.houghts (art - Nov 2019):  1,709
          Santa Claus' Mailbox (art - Dec 2019):  1,881
          KEEP CLEAR (ent. rhetoric - Nov 2019):  2,080
          GRAB BAG REDUX (story - Nov 2019):  2,493
          GRAB BAG (original story - 2011):  57