Multi-colored bins

If Autism was an ethnicity, it would be German.

This made me laugh. And I mentally commit it to storage, so that next time someone asks me why I don’t live in the Fatherland, I can retrieve it from the rusty filing cabinet in the back of my mind, dust it off and pretend I thought of it.

I’m mostly German¹ I add, offering that up as an excuse for maligning my people. Although it likely doesn’t absolve me for the comparative. As a thought experiment I wonder if I’d rather be on a tour bus with a group of Germans. Or a group with autism. After a while I decided that’s less easy to answer than originally anticipated.

[1] And Danish. (mostly, now, the custard filled kind)

In any event, the quote was in response to a tweet from an American who jaywalked in a German city (I forget which one) and got an angry rebuke from an old lady (despite there being no cars).

I’ve been off piste and Africanized for so long I would struggle to slot into such a codified and rigid society, where little things (like jaywalking or putting your plastic in the wrong recycling bin) set people off. Trust me when I say putting glass in the yellow bin in Deutschland is akin to the Cathar heresy in scope and odium.

Most of the time I am smug enough to imagine that I could be the poster child for anti-nationalism. Which is in full swing now because of the Soccer world cup. For the most part it makes me feel deeply uncomfortable. And to my credit (I feel), I have never draped myself in a flag and waxed on about perceived primacy in certain idiosyncrasies or nations. Not even my own political ideology… to be fair that’s because white-people shouldn’t wear yellow. And also because the Gadsen is now being used by every kooky group right of center. (I pretty sure us libertarians appropriated it FIRST, ha ha) I don’t want to be misrepresented as some sort of crazy person. Har, har, har.

I laugh in Pirate, because they’re quite a good example of anarcho-capitalists or maybe a meritocratic society aren’t they? I mean meritocratic in terms of a certain skill set. The non-aggression principle obviously puts them at odds with modern day anarcho-capitalists… who’d be rubbish pirates.

In any event… those are the kind of tweets I’m here for. He says, circling back round to the beginning. But really, that’s about 1% of twitter isn’t it? Maybe less. You have to machete your way through A LOT of undergrowth to find the good stuff. Even if you are committed to the deeply curated experience. (although those fucken ‘suggestions’ can get through no matter how austere you are).

The rest of twitter is pretty much just whine. And no grown ups.

I think that’s the most awful thing I’ve realized about getting older. Pretty much everyone out there in an idiot. (I include myself in this obviously) But I always imagined that, you know, somewhere out there, grownups were in charge. Now of course that you are bombarded with everyones banal thoughts (in 280 characters or less)… I mean there is a reason for my nihilism right?

Which is obviously why I prefer the purist form (ie the blog) to inflict my musings upon the world. Much better!

I wonder if I showed the 1984 version of me a snap shot of 2022 if they’d be impressed… or if they would recoil at the dystopian visage presented to them. I mean on the surface of it, technologically at least things… seem better. Fiber, iPhones and UberEats. No flying cars or hover boards though.

I remember that day in the picture though. We walked (unaccompanied) into the village and passed a church whose graveyard had a huge cherry tree laden with cherries and whose boughs bent over the wall. We stopped there and gorged ourselves.

Speaking of cherries…

… my farmers market haul from earlier. Strawberries are done. And cherries are back in season for a bit. Which is awesome. I am obviously a fan.

How does that saying go, ‘kids don’t remember their best day of television?’. I’m not entirely sure that’s true. I remember sitting in the cinema and being totally blown away by District 9. And also Aliens (1986), my friends parents snuck² us into the Drive-in. I was absolutely traumatized. (I was seven) Ha Ha. Two of my top all time favorite science fiction movies.

But yeah, we certainly used to play outside more.

[2] Which reminds me of that time Jennifer Gardner tried to own Conan for his poor grammar… “Snuck isn’t a word, Conan, you went to Harvard and you should know that.” I obviously believe in the past participle-ness of snuck even if WordPress has decided to underline it in red. It was quite a mean thing to say I thought. And I’m glad he pwn’d her in the end. People who correct other peoples grammar are awful.

+++