An Uncommon Prejiduce.

It is to be warned here in the beginning of this blog that there is usage of a particular vulgar, politically incorrect term for someone who doesn’t look right in this blog. If you are sensitive to the use of the vulgarity used to describe mentally handicapped, physically handicapped, or physically awkwardness, you should stop reading this entry now. The names of the people in this blogs have been changed to protect the families of the people involved in this story. Otherwise, the events and the time frames of the story are true and as accurate as the writers’ memory. I have had this curse of having an awkward figure all of my life. My physical appearance has been the butt of many jokes, been the cause of me getting into many fist fights, was the reason for the vast majority of my injuries and scars. Throughout my childhood, I thought I was alone. My perception was that there was no one else out there like me. I didn’t even realize there were such things as sexism, racism, and creedism until later on in life. This was driven by the fact that I didn’t see this kind of hatred being directed towards anybody else. I didn’t see it not because I didn’t want to see it, but rather because my attention and observational prowess was directed towards observations that would help save me further humiliation, physical scars, being beaten up, and, on a few occasions, being killed. It wasn’t until my sophomore year in high school that I met the first person I was aware of that was being stereotyped against in a violent or negative way. And it was in the same fashion that I was cursed. He and I both looked different, therefore the vast majority of our peers perceived us as “retarded,” regardless of whether or not we were actually mentally or physically retarded. Steve Smith and I were the school mascots for the socially cursed. It was shortly thereafter that I met the entire crew in which Smith regarded as his friends. I realized at that point that not only am I not alone, but it is more common than people realize. I also realized a few weeks later that the reason why people don’t much realize it is because the authority figures were actively segregating those who simply looked “different” – i.e. looked retarded – from the rest of the student body. At the time I didn’t understand the why; all I knew is that it was wrong. So, as soon as I realized what was going on, I went on trying to convince these poor souls that they can, in fact, lead relatively normal social lives. This should be easy, I thought. Long and tedious, but easy. I looked retarded, just like them, which allowed them to trust me as one of their own. I was also a rising star as a pitcher on the school baseball team, so I did have my foot in the door of the life of a normal person, as we understood the term back them. Here is where I should make one thing clear. In the world of someone who is shunned for looking like a retard, we don’t see the world in many numerous sociological classes of people; we see two groups: Those being shunned – us – and those doing the shunning – them. Those being shunned – the Us – feel they have to band together to survive, that they are their only hope for even a negligible sliver of normalcy. Those doing the shunning – the Them – are considered to be the “normal people,” regardless of sociology, culture, class, race, gender, sub-culture, age or any other fact. Those who look retarded and those who don’t. That’s it. Simple as that. So I proceeded to mold them into what would be perceived as normal. Sure as hell can’t get them to look it, but damn it, I was going to allow them to act it. And as I did so, we all came to think of me as the leader of this group, the president of the Valley High School Socially Awkward, so to speak. And eventually, over the next two and a half years, that’s what I did. By the time I got my cap and gown, everyone that I knew with my curse in the classes of 2003, 2004, and 2005 had some semblance of normalcy. They – we – weren’t all the way there, and may never be since we started the game late, but we were closer than we could have ever dared to dream to be. Then the day of graduation came. Steve Smith, who ended up being my second in command, so to speak, got us together, the 27 of us afflicted with this curse of the Las Vegas Valley High School class of 2003, to do a little speech just for us. It was a good speech, until the very last sentence. “But it’s going to happen again, and it’s going to be worse than we have ever experienced.” I shot a glare at him. One that said, “don’t say that; they’ll believe it. And all our work would be in vain.” I shook it off, though. The ceremony was about to start. My knee was acting up on me, but that a different story all together. We were all separate in the line. I was tired anyways; not much sleep the night before. The ceremony ends, and out of those 27 of us with this curse, all of us started freshmen year of high school with serious threats of getting a special education diploma. But now that we have our diploma’s, I have come two find out that only 2 actually got the special education diploma. They were so close to getting the regular diploma, 2 credits away. Out of the other 25 of us, I was the only one that got the honors diploma. We were all as normal as we have ever been up to that point. A week passes by. I had not heard from Smith or David Nova, one of the two of the group to get a special education diploma since the ceremony. I call Smith’s house. His step father picks up the phone. “Where’s Steve?” I ask. “Don’t tell me you haven’t heard!” he nearly yells at me. “No, I haven’t heard. What’s wrong?” I am near panicking. I really didn’t hear what happened. “He killed himself the night of graduation! And it’s ALL! YOU’RE! FAULT!” After he yells at me about his reasons why he thinks it’s my fault – showing him to that world of normalcy, knowing that it would be yanked away – I call Nova’s place. His mother answers. She tells me in a sad tone that he also killed himself that night. He left a note. “Smith was right,” it had said. “It will return, and it will be worse. After all, we all know that things are worse in the real world than they are in school.” I know at that point what Nova’s reason is for committing suicide; he knew what it was like to be shunned for his appearance, and he knew what it was like to have some semblance of normalcy. And he believed that he was going to go back to being the shunned in the real world, and he believed that it was going to be worse there. He believed what Smith had said before the Graduation ceremony. I can only assume that’s why Smith did it, too. Over the years, I have seen the other 26 people of the group commit suicide. They all experienced what Smith had said first hand, and couldn’t handle it. They all had proven Smith right. At this point, out of the 27 people of Valley High School’s class of 2003 with this curse, there is only one person alive today to tell this story. That person is me. And to this day, I believe that I am the cause for all of them committing suicide. If I had not allowed them to taste what it’s actually like to be normal, they all may still be alive today. For a brief time, they were authentically happy, and it cost them all their lives’. And it cost me this weight, this burden to carry with me for all eternity. Smith may have been right for 96.3% of us, but I refuse to let him be right about the other 3.7%. What kind of leader would I be if I did? As I sit here, typing this blog, I keep asking myself one question. It is something that I use to justify my actions, without having to plead ignorance. Is it worth dying an early death to taste happiness in a world of hurt and pain? I’d like to think so.

An ADD moment.

First, I would like to apologize for my absence the past few weeks. Have been busy. Please, bear with me on this blog. I have to share some uncomfortable backstory as a requisite of allowing most of you peeps understanding the point I am trying to make.

Okay, for starters, when I started kindergarten, I knew I was not a normal kind. I mean, from week one, I knew this. From the first week, I say that my peers were ragging on me for no apparent reason. Or, at least, no reason apparent to me at the time.

It took four years for the reason to become apparent to me. When I was in the third grade, I realized that I had this awkwardness about me. My facial structure, my facial expressions, my bodily form, my body language, my verbal harmonics, and the fashion in which I naturally walked, they were all awkward. And it was apparent to everyone else that this was the case, and because of that, they labeled me as “retard” and shelved me with the rest of them to be shunned as one. And that awkwardness has followed me to this very day.

The big curse that I have that no one else has, though, is intelligence. The lack of ignorance. I know what I look like, and worse, I know what that in tales. I know that I am very intelligent, as well as very smart, and I realize that there is a difference between the two. I know that there is more to me than meets the eye of the outside observer. And a select few people in the real world realize this as well.

But the problem still remains that most people are just stupid enough to label and shelf me because of my awkwardness, not taking into account my intelligence. Why? My theory is that, in a majority of cases, it has to do with impatience. They don’t have the patience with my vocal harmonics and how I look to realize that I have any worth at all.

Back in middle school, I met the first person since I realized why people were shunning to actually allow me to be comfortable in my own skin. Shortly thereafter, Mandi became my first girlfriend. Thing is, I fell in love with her. Hardcore. I don’t know what it was.

Maybe it was the fact that the only time I did feel comfortable in my skin was when I was around her. Maybe it was the concept that she was the first person outside of my father to be patient enough to hear me through my awkward speech and stuttering. Maybe it was her personality. Maybe it was a combination of any of the above and/or some things unmentioned. I don’t know. But I was in love with her.

Then she died. See, she had brain cancer, and was taking some medication in preparation for the chemotherapy. One night, she overdosed on those meds while at the hospital. The note I got from Dr. Frembin killed me inside. So much so that I actually made an attempt on my own life. But that’s a story for another time.

Thing is, I continued to slump around trying to compensate. I had tasted heaven for a short while, and now I was submerged back in hell on earth. Slowly, I got my will to live back, as I got in the group of people that was inflicted with the same curse as me. I became their leader, so to speak. I had to take care of them. That meant living, and being willing to live. No more feeling sorry for myself.

So now that the backstory is complete, now on with the regular story.

Last year, I think it was the spring semester, I met this girl, Paeo. We were acquaintances. Something happened and we became friends. I never thought anything more of it than that.

That is, until the 7^th of this month.

There is a picture in “My Pictures” on myspace with the caption “All of the Bad Habits.” I don’t know what triggered this thought in my head, but something clicked as we were posing for that picture that Paeo makes me comfortable in my own skin. In my head, I start panicking. I haven’t felt this way in over a decade. And since the only time I have ever truly been in love and the only time someone made me feel comfortable in my own skin were by the same person, I associated those two emotions as the same.

So, I had spent the next couple weeks thinking I was in love with Paeo. Shit, I still do believe this to be the case. On Wednesday, I texted her to tell her as much, because I couldn’t in person. Every day I met her at the college, she brought Loren, didn’t feel like being nervous about taking Paeo away from Loren to tell her, every time I tried to get Paeo outside of the college, she couldn’t meet me. And I felt I couldn’t tell her in front of anybody, not even (from what I can tell) her best friend.

She texts me back, saying she only views me as a friend. Wishes she could feel the same way, but just doesn’t. Talk about a thorn in my side.

The past few days, I’ve been thinking about that, and I just came to a conclusion a couple hours ago. It was a long and tedious conclusion to make, but I finally made it. And I guess I should probably thank you, Paeo, for being that spark to finally make me realize this.

What I have realized is that maybe the reason why I am cursed with this body, with this face, along with the intelligence to see how I look compared to the vast majority of humans, and what that means other people see when they see me, is because I was meant to do something great, intellectually. And that means I must not be tied down, romantically, so that I can do whatever it is I’m to do. The intelligence is the “doing something great” part, and this awkwardness is the “not being tied down” part.

And I realize that this seems like a large jump, so if you need an explanation, here it is.

On the day before my 23^rd birthday, Dannielle sent me the like to a video on youtube.com. It is a device – funded by DARPA and Boston Dynamics – that combines robotics technology with artificial intelligence technology. Up until this working prototype – code-named Big Dog – these two fields have had mostly separate technological evolutions. And, up until this point, I thought these two technologies were evolving at a slower rate. At this point, I have realized that when the American government – particularly the military branch, which DARPA is the military’s R&D department – starts funding on the edge technologies, those technologies start growing exponentially.

This scared the shit out of me, because this technology isn’t supposed to be growing this fast, and it’s funded by the U.S. military, and I’ve been seeing how the U.S. military has been fucking shit up globally due to it’s huge-dick complex. I was starting to wonder how this might be implemented by the military in a year. Five years. Ten years.

Also, My field of interest once I get out of college has something to do with artificial intelligence, so you can imagine my pure interest on this topic.

So, I figure, the military needs to have this piece of research stopped, lest the world find fatal consequences. Conspiracy theory? No, not really. I think the government is just trying to advance it’s army. Stay ahead of the game, so you don’t lose it. But look at the Atom bomb. Started off as a good idea, as an authentic attempt to do good. Now, it’s part of America’s “huge-dick” complex.

So, I’m thinking, that’s probably be where I should start on outside of school. Prevent Big Dog from going past the prototype stage. And I can’t really be tied down in a relationship if that’s going to happen.

Take that as you will. -[alpha]{BETA}[delta]

The Onion News Network

Believe it or not, there are things in this world that are not dependant on race, nationality, political party affiliation, age, gender, or handicap.

The Onion News Network (ONN) is an online parody news organization, similar to that of the Colbert Report or the Daily Show, only very much more extreme. Every "news" story that they have on there is only very loosely related to a real news story. The opinions expressed on it are too absurd to honestly be those of the writers or reporters.

There is one "report" on the ONN that is an obvious spoof of the concept of "Bring You Kid to Work" day. It’s the same concept, only for the Army branch of the U.S. Military (http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&VideoID=30552894). It goes on about how the troops in Iraq had their daughters over to visit for a day. Yadda yadda yadda.

There is this member of the U.S. Army -- I don’t know whether or not he’s in Iraq -- that completely ragged on the person that made this video, saying that he either is an idiot or voted Democrat -- or both.

Okay, here are a few things that he does not understand:

1) You do NOT need to be a democrat to be anti-Iraq-War. There are plenty of republicans’ here in this very country -- hell, right here in this very town -- that are against the Iraq war.

2) Idiocy is NOT a pre-requisite of being anti-war, or anti-Iraqi-war, just like it is not a requisite for being pro-war or pro-Iraqi-war. I know a considerable number of intelligent people and stupid people on both sides.

3) Just because somebody is against the Iraq War does NOT ostensibly mean they are anti-military. There are people in this very room right now that I know for an absolute FACT that are anti-Iraq-War AND pro-military all in the same brain. I myself am one said person. Just because somebody is against any particular war does not mean they do not support the troops; it just means that they do not support the politicians that sent us to that particular war.

4) If you are a liberal, that does NOT ostensibly make you anti-military. I know many liberals in this very room -- myself being one of them -- that support the troops. Until the day when we can find a way for everyone to stop going to war, we need our troops for macro-protection.

5) Just because it has the word "News" in it does not ostensibly mean it is a serious news network. CNN, MSNBC, and FOX News are all examples of serious news networks. ONN, the Colbert Report, and the Daily Show are all examples of comical news sources.

6) Just because your opinion does not match up exactly with somebody else’s does not ostensibly mean that you are absolutely right and they are absolutely wrong. What is the definition of the word "Opinion"? It is a belief or judgment that rests on grounds insufficient to produce complete certainty (http://dictionary.referance.com/browse/Opinion, see definition one of entry one).

7) One’s work should not define who said person is. I am a security guard and a student. I take a good blunt of jokes about being each, but I take it with a smile. Why? Because I know it’s a joke in the vast majority of the time. If the ONN does a report that makes the security profession look horrible, I will laugh right along with it, because I know it’s the ONN. Being in the military should be the same.

With that said, everyone that happens to stumble upon this blog should take all of the above into accord. Whether or not you wish to assimilate any of it into your own distinctiveness is up to you.

Take that as you will. -[alpha]{BETA}[delta]