Mockery Not Glockery: Why I Must Become A Lone-Wolf Terrorist, Part 2

For Part 1, see Mockery Not Glockery: Why I Must Become A Lone-Wolf Terrorist, Part 1.

Adam Lanza Was Autistic…

…but other than that I actually know quite little about the guy. In my mind he’s more of a frightening myth than anything — an infamous mass murderer, or maybe a bogeyman, or even a comic book super villain. Of course, I know that he was anything but a myth for the families of the 26 people shot to death by Lanza in 2012 — most of whom were young school children. I know that for his victims and their families, Lanza was a very real and monstrous madman. And I also know that that once it became known that Lanza was autistic, the first thing many tried to do was make it clear that his atrocity had nothing to do with autism. I think they were understandably worried that the vast majority of utterly harmless autistic people would be stigmatized by Lanza’s actions, and so these well-meaning people tried to shift the topic of conversation to that of Gun Control and Lanza’s personal armory, as if Lanza’s obsession with guns was not a true example of the sort of “restricted interests” that are an autism stereotype; as if his school house massacre was not obviously a rare but virulent form of “autistic meltdown” and in no small measure a disastrous consequence of a lifetime of having been marginalized, ostracized, and rejected.

What am I missing here? In what sense did Lanza’s own idiosyncratic version of autism have absolutely nothing to do with his monstrous deed? It looks to me like it had a great deal to do with it.

Frustration Art: A Kinder, Gentler, and Occasionally Hilarious Form of Lone-Wolf Terrorism

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Is this art? Or just a drop cloth? In my opinion, Jackson Pollack was a master frustration artist. Image Credit: Jackson Pollack, Convergence, 1952

If my autistic neurology grants me anything like a superpower, surely it’s my freakish ability to frustrate the shit out of at least some human beings. (Many others seem more or less immune to my gifts, and of course most people have simply never met me).

Although quite mystifying (especially for me), of course there’s really nothing magical about this ability. It doesn’t make me bullet proof, nor allow me to fly, nor see through walls. And I didn’t acquire it after being bitten by a radioactive bug. It is simply a natural consequence of the fact that I live in a very different world than do most, both conceptually and perceptually.

Technically or psychiatrically speaking I am not considered delusional nor am I hallucinating, but it’s almost as if my whole brain has an unusual astigmatism that makes some things seem much larger and more important, figuratively speaking, and other things seem smaller and more trivial than they might seem to a so-called “normal” person (whatever that is). You might say I suffer from various kinds of value delusions — by which I mean that my values (what I consider more or less important or trivial) are so very out of sync with the values of most other people in my life, that the disconnect often interferes with my ability to function in society: to maintain healthy collaborative relationships, hold down a full time job, etc. Of course, everybody suffers from this more or less to some extent, but with autism the differences are often more striking and consequential. It’s one thing to argue with people, but quite another to argue so much and so often and about stuff that seems so utterly ridiculous to them that few can stand to have anything to do with you.

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Frustration Art at it’s best — a kinder, gentler form of terrorism that happens to be hilarious. Image Credit: ABC 7 Chicago.

For example, back in March (2018) I turned down an opportunity to sell my signature for $37,000.00. All I had to do was sign my name on a standard settlement agreement, and MetLife would have given me $37,000.00! But I couldn’t do it. I tried to do it. I almost did it. In fact, I shudder now when I think about how close I came to signing that damn thing. But in the end I just couldn’t do it. I had to really think it through — bake it thoroughly in my thought furnace — and I did, but I realize now that it would be easier for me to chew out my own tongue than to sign that settlement agreement.[1]

And why? Well, subjectively speaking it’s just this feeling I get. It just feels wrong — really wrong, like I’m making a deal with the Devil or something, an unholy alliance.

That’s the subjective and executive summary, but I can at least try to articulate my reasons. This isn’t the place to go into all of them, but I will tell you that one of them begins with the fact that I once spent a good two years of my life obsessing about Actuarial Mathematics and still know how to calculate an Actuarial Present Value (APV) — essentially a rational estimate in today-dollars of some future payment (e.g. salary), accounting for interest and random events that might impact the final amount paid out — and when I did that for the MetLife career opportunity that was essentially stolen out from under me last year by roughly a dozen autism-ignorant individuals working for the company, I came up with an estimate of $1.7 million, which is a hell of a lot more than $37,000.00. So, one really important reason I couldn’t sign is that I knew these 12 or so individuals were trying to rip me off to the tune of $1.7 million dollars, give or take.

Now, if this is the first time you’ve ever encountered the concept of an APV, you’re not alone. Most folks have not, and unfortunately, if you have not and you’re response to all of this is anything like “WHAT ARE YOU NUTS!?!?” then I’m sorry to say that you’re simply wasting your time. For me, “what are you nuts”, with or without the caps and punctuation is simply not an argument against a given APV estimate. In order to challenge such an estimate, you have to challenge the assumptions that undergird it, which you cannot do with the “what are you nuts” tactic. If the best you can do is “what are you nuts”, then you might as well be trying to convince me that Santa and the Easter Bunny are both real and are in fact the true authors of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliette. However crazy I might seem to you because I turned down an opportunity to make $37 thousand in exchange for a signature, you seem to me something like 46 times more crazy than that for suggesting that I might sell off an opportunity to earn $1.7 million for just $37,000.[2]

Like I said, because I am autistic, I live in a very different world than most, both perceptually and conceptually, and sometimes these differences can frustrate the shit out of people. This sort of thing happens a lot with me, and it’s all due to my autistic neurology.

To be continued…

[Note: When Part 3 is published, I’ll post a link to it here. In the meantime, here is a link to a short and entertaining promo about a documentary being made about the inspirational Cocks Not Glocks protest movement.]


[1]For an overview of my MetLife fiasco, try An Open Letter to A Certain EEOC Deputy District Director, although when I wrote that I hadn’t yet begun referring to the events in question as a form of gang rape, and I was still protecting the identities of MetLife and the company’s Seyfarth Shaw attorney Frederick “Fritz” T. Smith. In that document, the  “gang rape” was described more literally as a Civil Rights violation, MetLife is called the “XYZ Insurance Company”, and Mr. Smith is referred to as “Batman”.

[2]The number 46 is just the ratio of my APV estimate of $1.7 million to the $37 thousand offered by MetLife to replace it. That is $1.7 million/$37 thousand ≅ 46.

Image Credit: Pixabay, unless otherwise specified.

Mockery Not Glockery: Why I Must Become A Lone-Wolf Terrorist, Part 1

Adam Lanza was not born a monster…

…He became one. He was born as innocent as any of us — a slippery, naked, screaming victim of that naive and narcissistic parental urge to feel validated by a child. Though I recoil as much as anyone at the monster he eventually became, my heart sincerely breaks for the baby he was born; it breaks every bit as much as it does for the 20 children and 6 adults which that baby eventually grew up to murder. If this “sympathy for the Devil” that I feel for baby Adam seems aberrant or repellent or frightening or like a good reason to reject me, then you too have my sympathies, because that strongly suggests that you are at least as arbitrarily harsh and judgmental not just with yourself, but especially to those who struggle to love you. If that’s a true statement about you, then I sincerely hope one day you find your way to accepting whatever it is about yourself that you only imagine to be so awful.

After all, we are each of us only human.

Oh, Relax, Please, I’m Not “literally” Becoming a Lone-Wolf Terrorist!

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Beware the lone wolf! (Kidding! It’s just a sheep. Awww, givess a kiss, Mr. Sheep.) Image Credit: Pixabay

In case you haven’t heard, last year I got gang raped, but “only” in a figurative sense. This year I’ve decided to let that nasty ordeal transform me into a lone wolf terrorist, but also “only” in a figurative sense.[1]

That seems fair to me. Nobody literally gang raped me, so I’m thinking I really shouldn’t let a “merely metaphorical” gang rape transform me into some actual lone wolf terrorist. Holy cow, yeah, that would definitely be taking things too far!

And just like my rapists did not literally gang rape me, but rather “only” violated my Civil Rights, well, I too have something that I’m going to do quite literally, but which I think can be fairly characterized — figuratively speaking, mind you — as lone-wolf terrorism.

Once again, that’s SO TO SPEAK lone-wolf terrorism (especially if you happen to work for the the FBI, DHS, or maybe if you just seriously believe that Donald Trump should win a Nobel Peace Prize)…

We might call it Frustration Art, which I see simply as the conscious and artful elicitation of feelings of frustration in an observer for the purpose of elevating, educating, illuminating, and bettering Humanity, in general, and of course in particular the given observer (the one actually feeling the frustration). It has only been a few weeks or so that I’ve been able to recognize this as an especially good way to interpret one of the grand themes of my life. And now, finally, after many years of arduous diligence and struggle, I believe I am finally ready to do this work professionally, in fact, that I must do so.

Continue with Mockery Not Glockery: Why I Must Become A Lone-Wolf Terrorist, Part 2.

You might also enjoy watching this video by a true Frustration Art master practitioner,  the late Andy Kaufman:


[1] The “Mockery Not Glockery” part of my title for this post is a reference to the name of the Cocks Not Glocks movement. I see their clever and hilarious use of dildos to expose the absurdity of gun culture as an inspired example of Frustration Art. Their core technique of “fighting absurdity with absurdity” is an important device in any frustration artist’s toolkit.

White Men Go To Jail Sometimes Too, Don’t They?

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Image Credit: Shutterstock

It’s been a week since I publicly confessed to stealing a laptop computer in protest of what’s actually the second time in the past year or so that a company has fired me illegally for being autistic. Here I wish to confess my astonishment at the fact that I haven’t been arrested yet.

Folks, what the hell is going on? I’m pretty sure this is a felony I’ve committed here — a cyber crime. Heck, it might even be an act of “lone wolf terrorism” for crying out loud! Isn’t somebody going to waterboard me?

Yes, yes, I’m a white man, of course, but still — surely at least some white people go to jail, don’t they? What about — what’s that one guy’s name? Who was that?…he was white, for sure. Dang…what was his name?

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Anthony Hopkins as the fictional character Hannibal Lecter in the film Silence of the Lambs. Image Credit: MGM Pictures

Oh, right — Hannibal Lecter! There, see? Sometimes white people do go to jail. But of course that guy ate people. Must I actually eat someone in order to be held accountable for my actions? Would my victim also have to be white? Can I at least use a condiment — perhaps some honey mustard?

What if I just chewed for a while on some of the guy’s toenail clippings, would that count?

Just spittballin’ here…

Anyway, keep in mind please that the computer in question also happens to be loaded with all kinds of customer data that is protected by law — Social Security Numbers, etc. My newly ex-employer cannot just go around letting people access this data willy nilly. And yet, at this very moment I can both willy and nilly all I want with this data. I could go into it right now if I wanted to, look at the data, run my fingers over it, cover it in whipped cream. Sexy, sexy, data! Ooh, baby, yum!

sexy_mouth_strawberry_cream_315x210Heck, I could have your own birthday and Social Security Number on there, by which I mean you, yes you — the particular she or he reading these words right now, whoever you may be. My ex-employer’s database is enormous. Heck, I’m pretty sure Elvis is in there somewhere. I might have Elvis Presley’s Social Security Number on this damn laptop.  And if I have Elvis’s data, why not yours too? In principle at least I could use this data to steal your identity. I could go out and get a fake passport, birth certificate, credit cards etc. with your name on them and run around the country committing all manner of mischief in your name. Oh, the nasty numerologizing I could do to your Social Security Number — if I were so inclined (which I am not, lucky for you).

But that’s the least of it really, because this company’s database is so freaking huge — I mean we’re talking a sizable fraction of a billion customers are in this thing — that it just so happens to have the names, birthdays, and Social Security Numbers of all of the individuals who conspired to get me fired from MetLife last year, which is to say the first time in the past year or so that a company has illegally fired me for being autistic.

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Another example of a white man who went to prison.

How’s that for irony? First these people fire me illegally, and then somehow I get lucky and find a job working with a database that is so huge that it actually contains their own protected data!

But for me, really the most deliciously ironic part of this irony is that I’m actually in possession of this data for for the very man who organized and led the charge on that event, which, by the way, was such a coercive ordeal for my family and me that I now feel entitled to refer to it all as a form of gang rape, even though nobody ever touched me physically, and indeed it all mostly happened via Email.

That’s right, I now have the Social Security Number (birthday, etc.) of Seyfarth Shaw Partner Frederick “Fritz” T. Smith (pictured, right) — a.k.a. “Batman“, a.k.a. a man who raped me (yeah, yeah, “so to speak”).

But it’s been a week since I confessed all of this, and I’m still walking around free. Shouldn’t I be in jail by now? Is White Privilege really that powerful?

 

Turn Me In To The FBI Today And Win This Attractive Bag Of Lawn Clippings!!!

Dear Reader,

Are you worried that I may have “crossed a line” by committing a felony in protest of the Trump Administration (not to mention everything else that a sane person might protest, especially the fact that since Trump became President I’ve been fired illegally twice for being autistic)?

Does it seem like I’ve gone “too damn far” by stealing a laptop loaded with protected customer information from the most recent company to fire me for having autism (a company which shall remain nameless, for now, and for reasons that are seeming less reasonable by the hour)?

Would you like to receive the attractive brown paper bag full of lawn clippings shown in the photo above as a Thank You gift?[1]

If so, then today’s your lucky day! Because with just a simple phone call to the FBI you can get that bag of lawn clippings as my Thank You gift simply for “dropping a dime on me” to the FBI regarding the above concerns in particular or in fact really any concerns at all you may have and which follow from my recent public confession that I have committed a felony cyber-crime just to protest, for example, the Trump Administration along with the fact that I’ve been fired illegally twice (for being autistic) since Trump became President, and in fact pretty much everything else that a sane person might protest these days, including but not limited to all the items discussed in yesterday’s open letter to President Trump’s acting Chair of the EEOC, Ms. Victoria A. Lipnic.

By the way, in case a bag of grass clippings isn’t already enough incentive, you should probably also recognize that the truly enormous size of my latest ex-employer’s customer database implies an excellent chance that I may in fact now be in possession of your own name, birthday, and Social Security Number.

Yikes!

So don’t delay. Address your concerns, whatever they are. Drop a dime on me to the FBI today!

Turn me in, please! Do it now, I’m begging you! Don’t over think it. Just follow this link to the FBI Contact Us webpage or do an Internet search on “report a crime to the FBI” and follow the easy instructions you will find.

And yes, I am being totally serious about everything except the bag of grass clippings. That part is really just a joke that I’m hoping will set you at ease long enough to get you to read this post. To be clear: I am not seriously offering anybody a bag of grass clippings as a Thank You for turning me into the FBI. But for the most part I’ve been posting on this topic with a straight face for several days now, and I really do not understand why I am not already in a jail cell.

I’m a friggin’ outlaw, for crying out loud! Somebody, please, do something!

I thank you sincerely in advance for you help,

Daniel L. Scholten, a.k.a. “The Walrus”


[1] In case it isn’t perfectly obvious: I’m really just kidding about the bag of lawn clippings. But I am definitely not kidding about asking you to turn me into the FBI. That part is quite serious. It’s been several days since I publicly confessed to stealing the laptop in question along with the protected customer data it contains, and so far I’m still a free man. I find this weird and disturbing, to say the least. I thought for sure I’d at least get a knock on the door from the police, but so far nothing — which is to say nada, nichts, rien, nyet, etc.

Is this a race thing I’m witnessing? Am I being protected by my so-called “white privilege”? Seems like these days black people can get arrested for forgetting to cover their mouths when coughing. I’ve stolen a friggin lap top and so far nobody seems to care!

Seal of the EEOC

I Confess! — Another Open Letter To Victoria A. Lipnic, President Trump’s Fox-in-Hen-House Acting Chair Of The EEOC

Trigger Warning: I don’t do trigger warnings (yet).

Hello Ms. Lipnic,

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Image Credit: EEOC webpage

While you are pondering yesterday’s only-seemingly-bizarre question, (“What would you do if President Trump grabbed your ‘pussy’?“) I would like to take this opportunity to confess to you publicly that I have recently committed a (non-violent) felony cyber crime in peaceful protest of, well, pretty much everything a sane person would protest nowadays, but especially the following somewhat exhausting but certainly not exhaustive list:

  1. That a bumbling, deceitful, childish, impulsive, pathologically ignorant misogynist like Donald Trump is my President, and thereby armed to the teeth with nuclear weapons and the world’s most powerful armed forces.
  2. That President Trump promoted you in January 2017 from your 2010-Obama-appointed bipartisan role as one of several EEOC Commissioners to your current fox-in-hen-house position as Acting Chair (boss) of the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission (EEOC). In case you seriously don’t realize it, you are a fox in the EEOC hen house because you used to work for Seyfarth Shaw, LLP, one of the top anti-Labor law firms in the world, and you are in fact still so chummy with your former Seyfarth Shaw colleagues that they actually call you “Vicki”. Also, by your own admission you have long believed and stated that you see your organization as the “underscore employment opportunity Commission”, suggesting that the notion of Equality will be thrown under the bus if necessary to further Trump’s agenda of creating jobs for the Country’s white men so that they can feed their livestock, servants, children, and wives.
  3. That you gave a private pep rally[1] to your former Seyfarth Shaw colleagues on Feb. 9, 2017 to assure them all that thanks to your new and powerful role at the EEOC it was going to become much easier for them to defend an employer’s freedom to exploit, abuse, and illegally fire their underprivileged but otherwise qualified employees.
  4. That one of your former Seyfarth Shaw colleagues — Frederick “Fritz” T. Smith — appears to have been so emboldened by your Feb. 9th pep rally, that in retaliation for the two EEOC charges I filed in 2017 against his client and my former employer MetLife, Mr. Smith subsequently felt entitled to plan and inflict upon me and my family an ordeal that was so psychologically grueling that now I feel subsequently entitled, in the first place, to describe it as a form of gang rape, and second, to commit the aforementioned non-violent yet highly illegal felony cyber crime to protest this gang rape, along with everything else I’m protesting, including…
  5. That because Donald Trump is now our Man-Child-in-Chief, and because he promoted you to your fox-in-hen-house role as Acting Chair of the EEOC, I have been fired illegally twice this past year for being autistic, and without any legal and effective means of redress.
  6. That the first time I got fired in the past year for being autistic, the company (MetLife) had the nerve to allege to the EEOC that I had been fired for “inappropriate behavior” — a lie which Donald Trump’s “Grab’em by the Pussy” Administration has rendered completely obsolete and utterly impossible to tell anymore with a straight face [ironically, the Trump Administration’s total abolition of the archaic, arbitrary, and ethnocentric notion of “appropriate behavior” is really the only good thing that Trump has done for the USA].
  7. That the second time I got fired for being autistic this year, the company[2] had the nerve to allege in writing that they were firing me because they were going “…in a different direction with the role going forward” — another completely obsolete lie that no employer should ever use again (especially if they really do need to go in a different direction with a given role, so as not to aide and abet illegal firings by providing cover for them).
  8. That because I have no legal and effective means of redress for all of these items (not to mention everything else I’m protesting and which is not listed here), I am forced now by my conscience to risk the possibility of imprisonment and a criminal record in order to protest these items.

With respect to that last item (8): In other words, I’m committing this civilly disobedient felony in part to protest the fact that I must actually resort to committing a civilly disobedient felony in order to protest that I must actually resort to committing a civilly disobedient felony in order to protest…etc., etc., ad infinitum. Yes, yes, I know, right? That infinite regress certainly does seem bizarre, doesn’t it? But it is not really bizarre when you think it through, and for the same reasons that the Trump Administration has made it perfectly not bizarre for me to ask the President’s Acting Chair of the EEOC what she would do if the President of the United States of America grabbed her pussy.


[1] In the following bone-chilling video, watch how often her former Seyfarth Shaw colleagues refer chummily to Ms. Lipnic as “Vicki”. Also, at about minute 9, Ms. Lipnic explains her nightmarish vision of her organization as the “underscore employment opportunity” Commission, strongly suggesting that going forward the whole Equality thing was more a decoration than anything truly functional. This meeting was nothing less than a pep rally she gave her former Seyfarth Shaw colleagues to assure them that it was going to become much easier for them going forward to defend an employer’s freedom to exploit, abuse, and illegally fire their underprivileged but otherwise qualified employees.

[2] I have not yet revealed the name of my most recent ex-employer, but for reasons that are becoming untenable by the day.

Thoreau’s Civil Disobedience Axiom: Why I Am Willing To Go To Prison To Defend The US Constitution

Henry_David_Thoreau_210x259“Under a government which imprisons any unjustly, the true place for a just man is also a prison” — Henry David Thoreau, Civil Disobedience, 1849

Yesterday I confessed in public to (non-violently) stealing a laptop from a company that just fired me because I’m autistic. This laptop contains protected customer information (e.g. Social Security Numbers) of a great many of my ex-employer’s valued customers, several of whom happen purely by chance to be the same individuals that gang raped me last year (the database is huge, so it’s actually not that strange a coincidence).

(Surprise, surprise, motherfuckers! Betcha didn’t see that one coming.)

Oh, relax — they’re the criminals, not me. I’m actually the last person who would cause any mischief to these people with that data. Yes, I have the data and the laptop, but both are very, very safe, and simply possessing it is all I will ever actually do with it. I’m autistic, for crying out loud, and I take data security seriously in a way only an autistic person could do so. But here’s the thing: I’m not allowed even to possess this data. That’s what you call a cyber crime! That is illegal! I’m an outlaw right now, as we speak! Quick! Somebody report me to the FBI! (Click this link to go to the FBI Submit a Tip page.)

Now, you’re probably wondering why I’m doing this. Well, let’s start with this:

In my opinion, President Donald Trump is an unmitigated asshole who should have bowed out of the 2016 Presidential race the moment the whole world heard that Access Hollywood hot mic recording of him saying “grab’em by the pussy”. This misogynistic hate speech is everything that any of us needs in order to be done with him as a President. Every day that this deranged, self-entitled hand-rapist remains in the Oval Office, “We the People” of the United States of America insult every girl child on Earth — all of our daughters, sisters, cousins, and future mothers, aunts, and grandmothers — and menace them with a lifetime of abuse ranging from casual disregard to sexual slavery.

That right there is all the reason any of us needs to start (non-violently) refusing to cooperate with the US Government until we redeem ourselves by ousting him — immediately. Donald Trump’s documented misogyny is sufficient reason right there for me to keep this laptop and its data (again, non-violently).

[Disclaimer: To be clear, I abhor violence and am vehemently opposed to any sort of violent behavior, and am advocating here for a strictly non-violent, totally naked-faced (no masks, please) sort of non-cooperation with the Trump regime — a la Thoreau, Ghandi, Martin Luther King, etc. Organizations like Antifa and ISIS are evil, to my view — just mindless and dangerous rage junkies looking for a way to catch a good buzz. The only “weapon”, so to speak, I will ever use is my sense of humor.]

Now, you may be wondering at this point what any of that has to do with the “so to speak” rape I endured last year. The answer is everything. The only reason it happened is because the lawyer who organized it works for the same famously anti-labor law firm that Trump’s current acting EEOC Chair Victoria A. Lipnic used to work for: Seyfarth Shaw, LLP. On February 9, 2017, Ms. Lipnic actually gave a pep rally (see YouTube video shown below) to all of Seyfarth Shaw, during which (see min 9:00 in the video) she suggested to all of her former colleagues that now that she’s in charge, the whole notion of Equality would be tossed under the bus whenever it was necessary to do so to carry out Trump’s racist, misogynist, anti-labor policies. The upshot here is that I got raped (“so to speak”) last year as a direct result of Trump’s hatred toward anybody who isn’t a rich, white, male willing to obey Trump’s every infantile whim.

In fact, the real question on the table here is not why I am willing to go to prison to (again, non-violently!) defend our Constitution, but why aren’t you?