Month: October 2024

bookmark_borderDear Tim Walz…

Posted on by Marissa

Lately, I have been finding it difficult to go on.

I have been thinking about the idea that everyone has the right to their own perspective, their own viewpoint, their own feelings, their own emotions. Some people would argue that it makes no sense to say that a person’s feelings are wrong, or that someone has no right to feel angry or upset at a situation. According to this way of thinking, if a person is angry or upset at a situation, then they automatically have a right to feel that way, because that is the way that they feel. As a believer in objective moral truth, I am skeptical of this idea. I believe that if something is objectively not bad, then no one has the right to criticize it or feel any negative emotions about it, because to do so is to punish someone who has done nothing wrong. 

But I digress. Regardless of which side is right in this philosophical debate, what has bothered me so much about the events of the past four and a half years is that people have not merely felt, or voiced, negative emotions about the historical figures that I love. They have enacted those feelings in ways that have involved the physical destruction of the historical figures. And regardless of one’s feelings about the historical figures that I love, regardless of what one thinks about their merit as historical figures, everyone should agree that physically eradicating historical figures from the earth is wrong. Everyone should agree that disliking someone does not give you the right to murder them.

Yet everyone, clearly, does not agree with this. 

I’ve had to watch, through pictures, videos, news reports, and social media posts, the man that I love be strangled, lynched, beheaded, smashed to pieces, drowned, burned. I have had absolutely no power to stop this, to prevent it, to reverse it, to gain any sort of compensation or restitution for that harm that has been done to me. I don’t even have the power to voice my pain and be heard. Because no matter how hard I try, no matter many different ways of explaining I attempt, society refuses to recognize that any harm has been done to me at all. Whenever I try to express my viewpoint, to voice my grief and anger, to present any sort of argument for why what happened was wrong, I am met with insults and ridicule. People call me a racist, an idiot, a moron, say that I should be barred from public spaces, laugh in my face using Facebook’s hideous “laughing face” reaction. When I contact public officials, I am either ignored entirely, or lectured about how I am wrong, and how the murder of the man that I love was a good thing, and how I need to have more empathy for others and to educate myself about the harm caused. The fact that harm was caused to me by the murder of the man that I love is denied and disregarded. The idea of others actually having empathy for me is not even acknowledged as a possibility. 

This is why I’m outraged upon coming across the following quote from Tim Walz: “How is it fair that you’re paying your taxes every year, and Donald Trump hasn’t paid any federal tax in the last 15 years?”

Walz’s sentiments are so lacking in empathy that it’s appalling. 

After being forced to watch the man that I love be strangled, lynched, beheaded, smashed to pieces, drowned, and burned, dozens upon dozens of times, I don’t care a whit about how much tax money Donald Trump pays. What I care about is the man that I love, and the fact that he was murdered.

Tim Walz, in fact, made a deliberate decision to allow the man I love to be murdered. Tim Walz knew that a group of bigots and bullies were planning to lynch Christopher Columbus at the state capitol building in St. Paul, Minnesota on a particular day and at a particular time. And he ordered the state police to stand down, to do nothing, to make no attempt to stop the lynching. So the man that I love was lynched, brutally and excruciatingly, on the steps of the state capitol, as dozens of cops stood and watched. The images of the noose being tied around his neck, his metal body crashing to the ground, a bigot named Mike Forcia standing on Christopher’s pedestal and thrusting his arms into the air in sickening triumph, mindless bigots posing with their knees on Christopher’s neck as he lay pitifully face down on the ground, a line of cops standing at attention and doing absolutely nothing as these horrifying events took place, are indelibly seared into my mind. The excruciating agony will be with me forever. It burns my consciousness and torments my soul as I type this sentence.

But to Tim Walz, the lynching of the man that I love does not matter. It is not important, not a problem, not worth doing anything about. Tim Walz thinks that the amount of taxes paid by Donald Trump is more important than Christopher’s life, more important than the soul-crushing trauma and pain that I’ve been subjected to. 

Lately, my mood has been low and down, my soul feels crushed, and everything feels heavy. For four and a half years I’ve lived with trauma that never goes away, that contaminates nearly every person, organization, place, and activity, that eats at my mind when I’m trying to fall asleep, that erupts into a volcano of anguish at the smallest reminder. And no one cares. Society thinks that the problem is me, that the man I love deserved to be murdered, that I am racist and bad for loving him, and that I need to change so that I’m not as upset about the fact that he was murdered. It’s difficult to imagine a path forward, a life that could be meaningful, given these circumstances. 

Meanwhile, the people who lynched the man that I love have faced no negative consequences at all. Their needs are being met, just as they always have been. They haven’t suffered trauma. They are told that they are perfectly fine the way they are (righteous and honorable even, depending on who you ask), that they don’t need to change. They are able to live their lives, spend time with friends and family, love their romantic partners, raise their children, engage in their hobbies, and voice their views without criticism, without insults, without laughing face emojis. Tim Walz is able to campaign for Vice President of the United States with his wife and children by his side, participate in debates, speeches, and interviews on meaningless issues, and almost entirely avoid any accountability for his decision to facilitate the lynching of the man that I love.

In the eyes of society, the people who hurt me, the people who murdered the man that I love, hold the moral high ground. In the eyes of society, I am condemned as shameful, disgusting, and morally bad for having been hurt, and the man I love is ridiculed for having been murdered. 

In other words, the person who has done nothing wrong in this situation bears 100% of the negative consequences, and the people who have done something wrong, by causing the horrible situation, bear 0% of the consequences. 

Tim Walz, that’s what isn’t fair. 

bookmark_borderKamala Harris’s repugnant comments on Columbus Day

Posted on by Marissa

“European explorers ushered in a wave of devastation, violence, stealing land, and widespread disease.” – Kamala Harris

Unsurprisingly, Kamala Harris posted the above in a tweet on Columbus Day. Seeing statements like this is hurtful, exhausting, and demoralizing. I am sick and tired of being made to feel that my very existence is something that I need to apologize for. I did not choose my skin color. I did not choose my ancestry. I did not chose to be born, and I did not choose which country or continent to be born in. And I don’t deserve to be shamed or humiliated for these characteristics, as Harris has done with this statement. 

Perhaps European explorers did usher in those things that Harris claims. But honestly… who cares? What is the point of mentioning this, and what is Harris trying to accomplish by doing so?

European explorers lived multiple centuries ago. Neither they, nor their alleged victims, are alive. I certainly didn’t cause the atrocities listed by Harris (nor did anyone who is alive today); therefore I do not deserve to be punished for them. The only thing accomplished by harping on and on about the alleged atrocities of European explorers is to inflict shame and humiliation on people like me, who didn’t do anything wrong. To inflict suffering and punishment on people who don’t deserve it. It’s disgusting that anyone – let alone a major political party’s candidate for president – would consider this a good thing to do.

Octavian destroyed the lives of Antony and Cleopatra, and the English army burned Joan of Arc alive at the stake. Why do Harris and other Democratic politicians not go on and on about that? Why does our society care so much about the alleged devastation, violence, theft of land, and disease inflicted on indigenous people, but not care a whit about the suffering that I’ve experienced going through life as an autistic person being held to neurotypical standards of success?

It’s because, in the eyes of Democratic politicians, not everyone’s pain matters. Not everyone’s experiences and perspectives matter. But rather only the pain, only the experiences and perspectives, of groups deemed (arbitrarily and randomly) to be “oppressed.” In the eyes of society, indigenous peoples’ pain matters, but not mine. Black people’s pain matters, but not mine. Queer and trans people’s pain matters, but not mine. It’s like a clique of popular kids in middle school. Only those people deemed “cool” enough to be in the clique matter. There is only empathy, recognition, acknowledgement, and inclusion for those deemed “cool” enough to be in the clique, and not for anyone else. 

As an autistic person, I’ve been told all my life that everything I do is wrong. I’ve never been deemed “cool” enough to be in any clique. I’ve grown up feeling that I need to apologize for my tone of voice, the words I use, my body language, my hobbies, the way that I dress, the way that I do my hair… the list is endless. And now I am being told that, because I am descended from European explorers, I need to apologize for existing in the US.

No. No more. I am sick and tired of living in a society that acknowledges everyone’s pain, everyone’s experiences, everyone’s perspectives, except for my own. It is past time that I be included, that I be shown empathy and recognition, that my struggles be acknowledged and my accomplishments celebrated, rather than me being condemned for immutable characteristics over which I have no control. Harris should apologize for the intolerance and lack of empathy that she has demonstrated with this statement.

bookmark_borderMy heart hurts…

Posted on by Marissa

Today, my heart hurts. I feel exhausted, drained, and demoralized. I feel weak and tired, my brain feels dull, foggy, and slow, and my body feels heavy.

I have not been blogging as much as I would like. For the entire month of September, I did not blog at all, and so far in October, I have done so only sporadically. This is beyond frustrating, because there are so many thoughts in my brain that I want and need to express. But I can’t. I simply do not have the time, or the energy. Things have not been going well for me. I have been experiencing autistic burnout for four and a half years, and for the past two and a half months it has been particularly severe. 

The Olympics marked the beginning of this bad stretch of time. Sports have traditionally been one of my biggest special interests, so this was something that I had been eagerly anticipating. But NBC’s coverage decisions meant that I was unable to watch all of the coverage that I needed to. There was simply too much of it. And so what I thought would be both a challenging and exciting experience turned into a nightmare of overstimulation, information overload, mental exhaustion, and sleep deprivation. I managed to alter my goals and mindset regarding the Olympics, allowing me to endure the experience. This was extremely difficult for me as an autistic person, and is something that I am proud of myself for doing. But being proud of oneself for accomplishing something is not the same as having a positive experience. The Olympics turned out to be something that I needed to endure, rather than something enjoyable and rewarding. And that is not great, to put it mildly. Not only was I subjected to an inordinate amount of stress and exhaustion, but I was denied the rewarding experience that I was picturing and expecting. 

Also starting around this time, I began to feel vaguely physically unwell, which continues to this day. I have been suffering from a runny and stuffy nose, sore and scratchy throat, cough, itchy and watery eyes, headaches, earaches, and low-grade fevers. These symptoms come and go, waning and giving me hope that they will finally be gone, only come roaring back the following day. These symptoms haven’t reached a level of severity that would cause me to miss work or cancel any activities that I had committed to, but they have caused me to be constantly miserable. It has really taken a toll on my mental health and quality of life. 

Throughout August and September, I also had an inordinate amount of difficult interpersonal situations put onto my plate to deal with. Texts and messages that I didn’t know how to respond to, uncomfortable phone calls that I had to make, requests for social get-togethers that I knew I wouldn’t be able to do but that were excruciatingly painful to say no to. I have made the decision to quit socializing, because friendships simply don’t work for me given my autism and history of trauma involving interpersonal situations. But people continue to ask me to socialize with them, and every time they do, the wound is ripped open and I essentially am forced to make the painful decision to quit socializing anew. These situations have been emotionally exhausting and have used up a lot of mental resources.

Because of my overall level of exhaustion, I have been sleeping very late, even when I go to bed relatively early. As a result, I essentially don’t have time to do anything other than getting ready for work, and working. I don’t have time to take walks, I don’t have time to run errands, and I don’t have time for writing. Such an enormous amount of time is spent sleeping, that there is no time for anything else. Despite this, I wake up exhausted, and it is painful to wrench myself out of bed. In other words, even this enormous amount of time spent sleeping is not enough. Most likely, no amount of sleep would be enough to make me feel refreshed and well-rested. Normally, I enjoy walking around the pond near my house, in the woods, and in the center of town, looking at the beautiful fall foliage and photographing it. But I haven’t really had time to do this. The fall season is passing me by, and I’m not able to enjoy or experience it in any meaningful sense. This is a depressing way to live. In fact, I would argue that it does not quality as truly living, but merely as existing. 

I’ve also had numerous workdays get screwed up. My work is usually a source of stability and routine. I can focus on something concrete, such as ringing up customers’ groceries at the cash register, bagging the groceries, collecting shopping carts in the parking lot, or stocking groceries in a section of the store. But I’ve been subjected to various instances that have turned my job into a source of dysregulation and chaos. On multiple occasions, I’ve been trapped with slow-walking and talkative co-workers during the commute home, causing me to miss the train and preventing me from doing Italian lessons on my phone. One night, the staff was asked to stay an hour late (not a problem in itself) and a co-worker pressured me into getting a ride home with another co-worker rather than taking the train as I usually do (apparently thinking, for some reason, that the fact that it was an hour later made it unsafe to take the train). Another night, the manager didn’t give clear instructions, so I didn’t know what section of the store I was supposed to work on or when I was supposed to stop. And another night, too much frozen food was ordered, so I ended my shift by pushing boxes of food with all my might in a (futile) attempt to force them into the completely packed walk-in freezer.

Worst of all, when my manager was explaining how the Columbus Day holiday would affect projected sales, one of my co-workers interrupted to “correct” the holiday name to “Indigenous Peoples’ Day.” When my manager responded that people could call the holiday whatever they wanted to, another co-worker interjected, “As long as you don’t call it Columbus Day! Anything but Columbus Day!” If you know anything of my feelings about Christopher Columbus, you won’t be surprised to learn that this caused me to be flooded with excruciating, agonizing pain. And it brings me to the next cause of this recent exacerbation of autistic burnout: Columbus Day.

Given that I love Christopher Columbus more than anything in the world, Columbus Day should be the best day of the year for me, or at least a better than average one. But this year at least, it was horrible. I attended and sold my artwork at an Italian festival, which should have been fun and exciting. However, I had to stay up late the night before in order to get my work ready, it was cold, rainy, and windy (all things that severely bother my sensory sensitivities), and a friend came by to sit at my table and help break it down at the end of the event (despite the fact that I had previously told her, as nicely as possible, that I did not need or want her help). This all amounted to an uncomfortable, angering, and draining experience. Instead of celebrating and honoring the man I love, I spent the day coping with an experience that was exhausting, out of control, and chaotic. 

Plus, as has been the case every year starting in 2020, various people, companies, and organizations used the occasion to attack Columbus, and therefore myself. I am too mentally exhausted and in pain to describe these things in detail, but the culprits include various cities and towns, American Gril (yes, the doll company), and every museum and park in Boston. Every time I see the words, “Indigenous Peoples’ Day,” I am filled with agonizing pain. There are no words that can adequately express the hurt of seeing other people’s perspectives validated, suffering acknowledged, cultures celebrated, and voices heard, while my perspective is dismissed, my suffering ignored, my culture shamed and condemned, and my words ridiculed. No matter how hard I try, I cannot force others to listen to my ideas, understand my point of view, or empathize with my pain. When you combine this with all the other things that I’ve described in this blog post, I feel beaten down. My spirit is crushed. So many things that used to give me pleasure have been taken away, contaminated, ruined. There is almost nothing that I can direct my time, energy, or attention towards that does not cause excruciating pain. It is difficult for me to see a path forward.

I am trying to keep the faith. I am trying to remind myself that I have felt this way before and have survived, and have returned to a state of happiness again. I am trying to remind myself that at some point in the future, my body will have more energy, and my brain will once again feel sharp. But right now, that isn’t the case. Right now, everything feels heavy, dark, and hopeless. Right now, everything hurts.

bookmark_border“Our Out-of-Control Federal Law Enforcement Agencies” by Ryan Cleckner

Posted on by Marissa

The latest issue of Imprimis, a publication by Hillsdale College, was so disturbing that I feel the need to share it. It’s not the viewpoint expressed by lawyer and firearms industry executive Ryan Cleckner that is disturbing – that is both eloquently expressed and completely correct – but rather the actions of federal law enforcement agencies that he describes. 

Cleckner describes how federal agencies such as the ATF and FBI murdered people, destroyed their homes, obliterated their fundamental rights and dignity, and overall acted like thugs.

In one case, the ATF determined that airport executive Bryan Malinowski was required to have a license, which he didn’t have, for his gun collecting hobby. Instead of informing him of this, they decided to violate his privacy rights by placing a GPS tracker on his car, and then to conduct a pre-dawn raid on his home, during which they brought ten vehicles filled with agents in SWAT gear, cut the power to his house, and killed him.

In another instance, a volunteer at an abortion clinic, Bruce Love, began to profanely harass a 12-year-old pro-life protestor. An argument took place during which the boy’s father, Mark Houck, pushed Love to the ground. Love pressed charges against Houck, despite the fact that Love is the one who deserves to have charges filed against him, because he initiated the conflict. Love’s bogus case was dismissed, but federal prosecutors subsequently decided to charge Houck with violating the FACE Act (prohibiting blocking access to abortion clinics). Two dozen FBI agents conducted a pre-dawn raid on his home, armed with SWAT gear and battering rams. Houck was arrested and chained to a table for 6 hours, despite the fact that Love is the person who deserves to be punished in this situation.

After reading this piece, I believe that law enforcement agencies should not be allowed to conduct pre-dawn raids, ever, for any reason. I also believe that all of the agents, prosecutors, and officials involved in the incidents that Cleckner describes should get the death penalty. (At the absolute least, they should be fired.) Their actions are truly, truly despicable. The incidents that Cleckner described make it clear, if anyone still had any doubts, that we live in a totalitarian country.  And this should not be acceptable to anyone.

As Cleckner notes, the agencies responsible for these atrocities respond to criticism by pointing out that their actions are “by the book.” If this is the case, then we need a new book. 

You can read Cleckner’s full article here.

bookmark_borderThe hypocrisy of Gretchen Whitmer

Posted on by Marissa

 

View this post on Instagram

 

A post shared by Sam Orwell (@classicalliberty)

“Michigan lost 289,000 jobs under Trump, and we won’t forget it.”

Sorry to be blunt, but Whitmer can take this pompous, self-righteous rhetoric, and shove it.

I’m not sure if she remembers, but there was this thing called Covid-19 that happened during Trump’s presidency, which might have a little something to do with these job losses. Actually, to put it more accurately, it was the safety measures taken by governments, including Whitmer’s, that caused the job losses rather than the coronavirus itself. These safety measures included ordering businesses to close down and people to remain in their homes.

Whitmer’s decision to blame Trump for the job losses that she directly caused is, indeed, despicable.

Whitmer can also shove her discriminatory and exclusionary rhetoric regarding “families.” Apparently, for American people to see their costs increase by $4,000 wouldn’t matter to Whitmer. In her eyes, people matter only so far as they belong to a family, and not as individuals This is despicable as well.

Source: Classical Liberty via Instagram

bookmark_border“LMAOOO he’s shrinking”

Posted on by Marissa
 
 
 
 
 
View this post on Instagram
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

A post shared by Charlie Kirk (@charliekirk1776)

In addition to the fact that it is factually incorrect (as Charlie Kirk’s response demonstrates), this post angers me because it exemplifies the flippant, stuck-up, and quite frankly moronic attitudes of those on the left-hand side of the political spectrum. 

It’s as if they look at politics as a game, as a source of entertainment, as a joke.

While I’ve been subjected to excruciating, soul-crushing pain for over four years due to government policies that violate my rights and destroy the things that my life worth living, they laugh their butts off because a person that they dislike has allegedly shrunk in size. While I logically analyze issues, make philosophical arguments to support my positions, and thoughtfully consider the best words to use in expressing my ideas, they ridicule a person because of his height. 

For me, politics matters because one of the major political parties supports forcing me to undergo medical procedures against my will, discriminating against me because of my skin color, and obliterating from existence the historical figures that I love. Politics matters because the outcome of the election may very well determine whether I have any hope of a life that is worth living. 

But to supporters of Harris and Walz, politics are apparently just one big joke. In their eyes, politics are something funny, a source of entertainment, an opportunity to ridicule, insult, and make fun of people who are different from them.

There is so much talk about white privilege, male privilege, straight privilege, cis privilege, et cetera, but no one recognizes or acknowledges the type of privilege that this “LMAOOO” post represents. This post represents true privilege: the ability to treat politics as a joke because it’s not your rights under attack, not you being shamed, sneered at, and insulted merely for existing, not your loved ones being lynched and dismembered with impunity.

Slowly and laboriously, I am working to heal from grief and pain more severe than I ever thought possible, all while fighting to preserve the few things left in this country that are worth fighting for. Meanwhile, the person who made this post is making fun of someone for shrinking as he gets older.

The things that I’ve experienced are not something that I will ever be able to laugh off, and it’s both infuriating and disturbing that those on the other side can dismiss political issues as a laughing matter.

As one of the comments on the post astutely pointed out: “Even if he’s shrinking.. is that all they’ve got? Trying to find reasons to not vote for him, and ‘shrinking’ is what they came up with.”

The attitude embodied by the “LMAOOO” post is mean-spirited, thoughtless, and completely lacking in empathy. It’s pathetic that this is the level to which political discourse has sunk in our country. 

And I don’t know about you, but I don’t find that to be particularly funny.