I'm mentally ill and I'm OK, I create all night and I'm antisocial all day



          Around the same time that Y2K was a thing, I learned about a new word:  Aspergers.  I pronounced it with derision—two words: Ass Burger's.  Because, even though this was a label which seemed to apply to most of the personality traits which made-up the who I had always been, it didn't change anything.  It was just another rose-by-any-other-name thing.  Knowing there was a new medical label for the person that was me (who avoids doctors, of every ilk, like they're machete-wielding street-corner bullies) had little impact on me.  I have always been comfortable with my introversion and bewildered by the behavior of what extroverts refer to as normal.

          In the 1980s, I referred to myself as Über-introverted.

          By the late 1990s I easily joked about myself as someone who was at the, "Unabomber-level of introversion; without the bombs and with a keener eye towards manifesto writing."

          Today, I still pine for a shack in the woods, rarely find myself in a position to use the term Aspergers in conversation (which is more-than-probably because listendon'talk is my normal, and not because I avoid identifying which brand of homo-sapiens I was born into), and never refer to Aspergers by nickname or acronym (for the same reason it's penis, not willy or cock).    
     
          Aspergers has now been moved under the umbrella of Autism Spectrum Disorder.  Some people have a problem with this change.  Some other "new mental illnesses" (now identified as such by the DSM) include: arrogance, narcissism, above-average creativity, cynicism, and antisocial behavior.

          I am now classified as a person with autism.  Personality traits are now referred to as diseases by machete-wielding street-corner bullies.

          These distinctions are causing some people to sit up and bark.  Others are shitting in their bed-clothes.  None of this has any more affect on me than when I learned—over a dozen years ago—that a new label existed for my introversion.

          La de da.
          Kay sera sera.
          Sometimes you just have to say what the fuck.   

 

catch up on more Asperger'stuff:

lack of eye contact

death of a friend

aural effect / mood-boost

The Union Label


          Yesterday a customer said, "You're in a union at Alamo car rental, so what's your opinion about them.  Are unions beneficial?"

          "From my perspective,"  I replied, "the union makes a huge difference.  Years ago, when Enterprise Car Rental bought the Alamo and National car rental companies they had to take them as they were: union companies.  But Enterprise itself wasn't then—and remains today—a non-union company.  All hourly union employees who work for Alamo and National are full-time, 40 hours a week, eligible for overtime, paid holidays, sick days, vacation days, healthcare, full benefit package.  Hourly Enterprise employees are paid the same wages but are part time...no benefits."

          Anyone who has ever criticized a union's efficacy needs to wrap their head around this reality.       

build date


          I've been informed that Friday, 4 April 2014, is the day my smart is scheduled to be built.

          That's National Cordon Bleu Day (if you didn't know, now you do) and I intend to celebrate that day by eating some crusty panco chicken, ham, and cheese.      

create your happy

      
          Epilogue/postscript:  I really had no idea when I created/titled this digital rendering that it was the first International Day of Happiness.  Anyone and everyone familiar with the real snapperhead that is me, knows I'd have ridiculed or—at the very least—made a joke out of such a foolish and crass Hallmark-label-faΓ§ade.

          In my own way, I guess I did poke fun at it.  The "hidden message" is no where near some of my previous (which can be at-or-beyond the Where'sWaldo-level).  In this one, there are dozens of recognizable images and a couple which aren't hidden in any manner at all.  What so ever.  Out in plain sight.  As the nose on your face.

          Looking for one with more challenge in the hidden stuff department?  Click on that little © below and scroll past the comics until you get to one that makes you go hummm (or one that makes you say, "I don't get that") = hidden stuff abounds.