funkymonkey4290638's Xanga

Much needed spout in a time of uncertainty

Thu, 19 Feb 2009 01:45:40 GMT

*Disclaimer: This post is totally a I-don't-know-what-I'm-going-to-type-because-so-much-is-on-my-mind one*

I feel like I have no future.

Or at least, I like telling my friends that. I honestly wanted the teaching English in Asia thing to work out...it would have been perfect! Multicultural experience, working to pay off student loans, living cheaply. Everything I would have wanted after my undergrad.

Student loans, knowing now that my deferment period ends this summer, are scary. My 14k price tag looms way over my head, and I want to be like, Mr. Loans, you DO know that you plague my general well-being and with me being a worrywort anyways, I can't get anything done???

The common saying is that difficult times help define who we are. If so, I am drowning in uncertainty, unhappiness, and general WORRY. What do I have a degree in? WORRYING MY ASS OFF TO THE POINT OF PARALYZING MYSELF FROM DOING ANYTHING.
Ugh.

Josh recommended me making lists. So, lists I shall. Hopefully, I can come back from this and edit as necessary. Please leave your comments on my thoughts on my lists:

My Strengths                                                                                     My Weaknesses
Persuasive                                                                                         Stress out too easily
Analytical                                                                                          Easily distracted/don't finish things I start
Ambitious                                                                                          Occasionally too blunt
Articulate                                                                                           Irresponsible
Intelligent                                                                                           Undisciplined/whimsical
Diligent

Vocational- word soup
Slacks, people, glasses that make me look intelligent, listening to fears and dreams, fighting for others, being there for them ontologically, seeing people crash and expect me to help and then have them TRUST me, knowing people benefit personally from what I do

Cities that I would like to visit                                                        Languages I would like to learn
Tokyo                                                                                                 Mandarin
Los Angeles/San Francisco                                                                  French
New York                                                                                           Russian
Buenos Aires
Rio de Janeiro                                                                                     Muses for me
Amsterdam                                                                                         Social stigmas for various disabilities
London                                                                                               5-7 year old energetic boys
Dubai                                                                                              Dance and song, folklore
Cairo                                                                                                Anything nostalgic
Havana                                                                                               Seeing someone's creative eye satisfied
Toronto                                                                                              Ponies (baby horses)
Milan                                                                                                  Ice skating, gymnastics, cheerleading
Moscow
Copenhagen

Current fashion ideas I want to explore:
Work resembling that of Herbert Tobias, editorial
United Colors of Benetton (different ethnicities), high commercial
Work exploring 1800s communal holdings for the mentally ill, avante garde/editorial
Funhouse/haunted house, not sure
Ripping up a sleeping bag and doing a homeless shoot, beauty or fitness
1940s schoolboy, editorial
Clear large cubicle, filled with anything from ice cubes to apple cider to colored water, and shots taken from me within cubicle-artistic nude (think alien Seaworld meets watercolor), artistic
Guardian of the forest at the Glass Chapel in Bella Vista, editorial/artistic
Fast-food worker ordered HOT, editorial
Businessman reading burning/flaming paper, high commercial/editorial
Model as 'bait' for bear in camp setting, FUN
Delinquent shredding tires or smashing car, editorial/expressive

Much overdue reflection of my 21 years life

Thu, 01 Jan 2009 06:59:27 GMT

If there are typos in here, it is because of the wine in my system from tonight's celebration. And no, I still stick to my Rieslings for favorite occasions. Nothing topped that tonight. Tried a pipe. Not my thing.

21 'Tags' to those of you who have influenced my personality, mindset, and being tremendously. Since I'm pretty buzzed, this is in no sequential order....

1. Sarah Laquer: Thank you for teaching me that a consuming love demands self-denying actions. I will never forget you saying you ran in the rain for twelve blocks in heels because you realized you were late to chat with me. If I ever find you again in life, know that I still love you in an agape way that has not faded even now.

2. Linda Erickson. Love requires a certain mischievous following. I secretly loved that you wrote me love letters in my lunch box, prayed for me every day, and sewed on my Indian huts for my 6th grade project. Our playdough may have been runny, but we 'pal-lled' it out together. You are as valient, beautiful, and resilient as a rose, and I hope my love for others will be similar.

3. James Skinner. You were my 'mate' with whom I could express my liking for you in a physical manner. You represent tactful innocence in the face of low morale and general dislike.

4. Sarah Wetzel. Well.....you helped inititate this process within me that revolutionized the way I interact with myself. You will never understand how you impacted me. By letting me talk and let out questions that could have torn me to pieces, I became a stronger man through your care.

5. Orpha Erickson. You have absolutely no reason to love me, except that I am family to you. And because of that, you will NOT let me go. I have learned to hold to those who are dear to me as fiercely as I can, regardless of how sensical it is.

6. Christa (the student teacher on the trip to Machu Picchu). You taught me that rank, either vocationally or generationally, does not matter when one seeks to have a fun time. People are alike and can celebrate their similarities and bond even if they will not be close the rest of their lives.

7. Dr. David Cater. How is belief and confidence in another not a basic building block to their highest competency levels? Thank you for glowing every time I talked with you.

8. Dr. Fred Dickason. You showed why establising a strong rapport with others is VITAL to their trusting your guidance or suggestions.

9. Bowser. Loyalty is one of the highest virtues a being can bestow upon another. Will I forget you once you die? Never.

10. Paul Erickson. You showed me one's environment can either induce tremendous amounts of stress or leave one completely satisfied with life. Thanks for being patient with me when I was making my pancake cakes.
And where would I be in life without learning how to network from you?????

11. Missionary lady in Sucre when I was in fifth grade- You showed me the importance of analyzing out how other peopel are responding to what you are saying, since it was clear you were not aware (and came across as uncaring) about how much I was frustrated with you and despised. Yep. Thanks, Joanne.

12. Miss Conn. (NOT Mrs. Ponce) It IS possible to command the respect and yet be perceived as 'fun' to young adults, and you showed me that.

13. Nathan and Jacob Porter. People are valuable, and if we don't stay in touch, that is our own damned fault, especially if we really carwe for them. Thanks for playing Goldeneye with me when I just returned to Bolivia and felt friendless.

The rest tomorrow. I need to sleep.

No to "cushy" at Motel 6 and female seeds

Mon, 16 Jun 2008 05:13:50 GMT

NOTE: If you are under 16, please do NOT read this note. For your own sake. Growing up happens fast enough.

Bus rides are wonderful.

But bus STOPS and WAITING FOR THE BUS are even better.

Thursday afternoon/night, I had to run out to a house and grab some stuff in Stapleton. I took the 7 to connect with the 38. On the way back, I had a significant wait for the 7.
While waiting, I met and sat next to Ronnie.
Ronnie was/is a 50-60's ish black man who had been drinking. How much, he never told me.

Well, Ronnie quickly figures out I'm not from around here. So he asks me why I'm here, what I like to do, etc. I tell him I'm here for the summer and I love to play tennis. Somehow, the conversation goes onto girls. Ronnie asks me what type of girl I like. I said it depends on the location. Ronnie pressed to find out what type of girl I liked RIGHT NOW. Well, I told Ronnie, I fall rather easily for the blonde, toned, tanned beauties (bleuch, who oftentimes are so aware of the fact they're beautiful. GROSS). In Bolivia, the girls with the long, beautiful black hair and huge eyes definitely caught my eye.

Ronnie wasn't satisfied. He asked me if I had ever touched a woman.
Mind you, I've had some strange conversations here in Denver but Ronnie's tops the cake so far.

I said no, I plan on staying a virgin until I enter long-term commitment with a woman that feels likewise.
He then said, well, you GOT to have some "cushy." (hey, it rhymes with cushy, ok?) Otherwise, how was I going to know which cushy was right for me. He said, man, I used to believe the same thing growing up. But cushy is cushy. I tell my son, son, enjoy as much cushy as you can.

Internally feeling very awkward, I smiled at Ronnie and asked him what about the WOMAN'S emotional, social, and financial needs.

"Well, that comes after her cushy needs are fulfilled. See, I like to refer to them as foxtails. You know, since girls don't have d**** (except for a very small one), they need you to fulfill their cushy needs. Hey, why don't we go out right now and get us some cushy."

I was like, Ronnie, we're waiting for the bus. (I wanted to add, and I don't want to have the chance of getting a girl pregnant, contracting any STI's, and generally get sexually involved. I was freaking tired and not looking to do anything but eat and then sleep)

Ronnie wouldn't give up. "You know, not all cushy is alike. Some are wide, and some are thin. You won't know how to find that special cushy that fits you best until you git yoself sum cushy. I say, why don't we go to a Motel Six, get us some FINE cushy, and have a great time."

Fortunately, the bus came. Goodbye to Ronnie and his focus on cushy. (It's funny, he didn't even mention breasts)

The 7 was pretty packed. Across from me, there was a 20s-ish guy reading a magazine that had scantily clad women covered by leaves. Actually, there were tons of plant forms in the magazine.
Well, I wasn't the only one to notice. A 45 year old man sitting kitty corner from the magazine reader, in a loud voice, told him, Dude, I love weed! I've been smoking it since I was fifteen! My wife thinks I'm crazy, but she's soon to become my ex-wife, the bitch. The problem with those magazines is that you don't know if the seeds in them are males or females. And the best pot comes from the females, you know?

At that, the bus driver started chuckling and some of the people around him stared at him for a few seconds.
His response?
"What are you all looking at? Go back to reading your goddamn Bibles. Even the fucking cops smoke pot!"

I then had to get off but I don't think I will forget that night anytime soon.

The Journey of a Door-to-Door Salesman

Sun, 01 Jun 2008 11:54:01 GMT

(Warning: Some of this post contains explicit language.)

Well friends, I am thoroughly enjoying my job as a door-to-door salesman. I am selling an amazing product, and the weather, most of the time, has been absolutely delightful. I sell a community savings book, where everything in the book is completely local and either free or buy one get one. Cause Marketing and the local businesses provide the product, and they are doing it (for the money, duh but also) for community awareness for the United Spinal Association. In the past three years, they raised 3.5 million dollars for Wheelchair Basketball in Colorado. I get 10 dollars off of each book I sell. There is 9,230 dollars of savings and it goes for thirty. There's everything one could ever want, including two free oil changes, five different locations that do either free drinks every day or every week, a free pizza a month, free appetizers a month, and buy one get ones on local dining, more casual places (including Dominos, Papa Johns, Quiznos, and Cold Stone Creamery), and entertainment (Elitch Gardens (which used to be a part of Six Flags), sporting events, Chuck E. Cheese, bowling, etc).

No, that was not my pitch. It would take forever to write out. Forget it.

Quickly, here are some of the highlights (and lowlights) of working out in Arvada, CO:

1. A lady who was not able to buy a book because her husband had just been run over TWICE BY THE SAME PERSON and (obviously) needed to save money
2. The people who are going bankrupt. They tend to be the most honest with you.
3. An AMAZING guy named Bob. We had a GREAT political discussion, probably one of the best ones I've ever had with someone. Bob's forearms were probably the size of my head. He's a PA and leans Republican (especially for elected positions), because he believes that businessmen do best at handling the pressure of being elected.
4. The SWEETEST old lady I've ever met (apart from the lady in the psychiatric hospital in Bolivia). Her name was Carolynne, and she was 94. She had an AMAZING garden, it was SO beautiful. She gently reminded me that I should call my grandmother weekly because it would really make her day.
5. Me ringing the doorbell (it happened last Saturday), and this guy yelling, What the fuck do you want? Who the fuck do you think you are? I don't want to buy your stupid, fucking product! Get the hell of my porch, you fucking ass wipe!
6. The guy where he said hi, I said "hi," and he said "no," and closed the door.
7. The people who think I'm Mormon and the people who don't buy the book because 'they never used last year's book.' Um, hello, it's called free in your area. You're a complete idiot to not use it.
8. DOGS. ALMOST EVERY DOOR. Everything from Chihuahas to some type of Russian hunting dog that would be as tall as me if it stood straight up.
9. A black girl coming to the door in her shirt and her lingerie/bikini (I still don't know) and a white guy in his fifties coming to the door in a white t-shirt and briefs.
10. People obviously avoiding the big-bad-salesman (aka me). They're so funny and way easy to spot, lol.
11. The fact that I'll probably die of emphysema before the end of the summer because of second hand smoke.
12. Hearing an 60s-ish year old man (I didn't get his name) brag about how non-conformist he is and how he communicates with a few select people via ham radio (as opposed to the telephone)
13. Ringing the doorbell, hearing a little girl say, Daddy, it's a salesman, and Daddy not even talking to me, just waving me away.
14. Petting an old cat that was blind, balding, and probably dying. It brought my spirits back up that day.

Oh, and of course, you all want to know my record. Well, I've never done less than four a day, and my highest is nine (and that was in a day where we were only out for six hours as opposed to eight)..

TO ALL FRIENDS IN THE U.S.

Wed, 14 May 2008 05:07:13 GMT

If you are living in some sort of residence, this blog is FOR YOU!! Please read on.

Dear resident,
There are, believe it or not, personable salesman that are not pushy. As such, I have taken the time to provide you with a list of questions to get the most out of your door-to-door salesman/saleslady encounters:
1. ANSWER THE EFFING DOOR. Honestly. If I see you and you don't come, I will perceive you as being incredibly retarded, stupid, and plain ignorant.
2. If you don't have the time to interact with the salesman (or little girls selling cookies or Mormons or whomever is at your door), a simple 'I appreciate what you are doing but I simply don't have the time to listen to you.' Then feel free to close the door, regardless of their reaction. However, it is even more polite to explain why you don't have time to talk to them and perhaps offer a time they can return.
3. If you DO have the time, listen to what they say. However, if you tend to be an impulsive buyer (and this goes out to my ladyfriends and my guys when facing a CUTE and FLIRTY saleslady) and don't have money to spend, say upfront, I can't afford this but appreciate what you are doing. Generally, we will keep going, trying to entice into another package. If this happens, feel free to say I appreciate what you're offering but like I said, I can't afford buying something like that at this point in time. Thank you! *Shut the door*
4. EVALUATE, EVALUATE, EVALUATE. Ask several questions. DON'T bring your money with you to the door, DON'T offer to go get your money unless you are POSITIVE you want the product. However, DO listen to the pitch. If the salesperson is persuasive, compliment him/her on his ability and commend him/her on his/her attitude. If they are touting a cause and are asking for donations and you can't afford the donation, tell them you will go on their website and consider it. Then, GO ON THEIR WEBSITE AND CONSIDER IT. For crying out loud, it's not that hard and if you have enough time to read this, you have enough time to check out a worthwhile cause to see what they're doing.
5. After whatever happens, it is REALLY nice if you offer them a lemonade on a summer day, ask if they need to use the bathroom or if they have enough paper/pens, etc.

Further questions or differing views? Offer them and I will try to answer soon.

A question I see arising is, well, what do YOU do?
I work with W.I.T. Enterprises and we are working on behalf of the United Spinal Association (www.unitedspinal.org) to promote community awareness of what they do. In the past, W.I.T. has worked to promote community awareness for the local Denver handicapped basketball leagues. I sell coupon books that have TONS of local, free stuff (ranging from free drinks a day to a free pizza from Cici's a month to buy one get one free at sporting games and free oil changes) that with only a few uses, a customer can redeem the 30 dollar cost. I love my job, and I honestly get frustrated with how STUPID or LAME some peoples' excuses are for not investigating what I'm even trying to present them. NO, I'm not Mormon. YES, this job pays fine, thank you, and NO, I will not reconsider to work at a local pizza chain. NO, I'm not out to downgrade or destroy the reputation of your neighborhood. YES, I will go to your door, even if you have a no soliciting sign. I've gotten sales from places like these. NO, it doesn't help if you ask me if I can read you sign. Thankfully, I was not under the No Child Left Behind program, so I can read by college. YES, I am in a hurry. I have to visit 100 houses in 3 hours, and talk to about that many people in an eight hour day while walking around. YES, I get tired and discouraged, especially with pricks like you asking me what am I selling. At least let me present to you the cause. I don't know about you buddy, but I do this because of the cause, not because of the savings you get or because of the profit I make necessarily.

Hope that informs.

Personal memories and accomplishments of this school year...

Fri, 09 May 2008 05:38:14 GMT

Before I start off, my legs are aching really badly. It's super annoying.
Ok.
1. Getting a research experience for undergraduates (REU) out in less than a day: defining my research interests, getting a letter of recommendation, my transcripts, filling out an online application, and getting my financial info all before needing to overnight it to UCLA at 3:30 (when UPS comes to jboo)
2. Blowing people away at the arties with what I wore
3. Going Black Friday shopping with Jenny Felts and her mom.
4. How I, along with my awesome officers, breathed significance into the psych club. Also feeling honored by the gratitude the psych professors bestowed on our officer team by commending us on a job well done.
5. Using Captain Planet as a hook for an extemp piece for Speech and Debate on whether there should be a hybrid force between the AU and the UN peacekeeping forces
6. Taking Ethics with Oliver Balson
7. Discovering Nietzsche and generally diving deeper into my love for existentialism
8. My close comrades in life: My parents, my brother, Dr. Cater, Dr. Johnson, Dr. Ogle, Dr. Hough, Becky Lambert, Becci Rothfuss, Glenda Manos, Josh, Ryan L., Mark D., Mark S., Chad, Ryan H. Matt, Jason, Jess, Sophie, Jenny, Katherine
9. Jumping into a freezing hotel pool in like, early March, for Speech and Debates nats with Aaron Brenner
10. Josh and I growing MUCH MUCH closer. Thank you buddy.
11. The countless late night ping pong matches in J. Alvin
12. My internship over winter break at San Juan De Dios, the psychiatric hospital in Cochabamba
13. Becoming an Alpha Chi member
14. My brother winning every art award possible
15. Knowing that Sophie slept in the same room I did in J. Alvin one night (not the same year I was there, sillies) without getting caught....hehe
16. Discovering shirt.woot.com
17. And overall, God drawing me closer to Him and manifesting Himself through everything from suckerpunching to quietly waiting to pulling on my heart

I almost threw up in my mouth...

Tue, 06 May 2008 21:08:19 GMT

Go to this website.
http://www.mymhmin.org/home

Now consider that when I was job hunting today, this "ministry" is hiring prayer warriors for 11.25 an hour. Here's what the classified said. Needless to say, I have found another topic for my op-ed pieces next semester: the repugnant commercialization of Christianity:

Love to pray?
We’re hiring prayer partners right now!

You’ll enjoy:
… working in a Christian environment
… ministering God’s Word to people every day
… helping people experience God’s love, provision,
healing, and peace

Qualified candidates must:
Be born-again and Spirit-filled (Acts 2:4)
Have good working knowledge of the Bible
Have good communication skills
Have data entry skills

$11.25/hr
Full-time (30 hours/week) with benefits
Free parking and convenient light rail access

Contact:
hr@mhmin.org or (303) 729-1476

Last night's dream....

Fri, 18 Apr 2008 15:57:23 GMT

was bizarre. SOOOO bizarre.
I blame Arthur Summers and his concealed gun discussions. And Mom for having a lot on her place. Arthur and Mom, interpret that as you will.

I went to visit my family in Bolivia and got word that Mom was having a hard time and I needed to see her. So, I discretely followed her in this random market, weaving in and out of shops, booths, and plazas. I found her and Timmy and Dad. She said there had been this guy following her and that she was scared. I decided to look into it.

So, there was. The guy looked homeless (but he wasn't). His clothes were dirty and in tatters, and his hair was really really greasy. He was white, about in his late 30's early 40's, and had black hair. His skin was really oily and dirty too. Anyways, he went around shooting people with this gun that would collect the person's essence and transport it to an alternative realm, where (I'll just label him) Mr. Creepy had brainwashed them to do what he wanted. Some of them were then sent back into the world with more of Mr. Creepy's guns to get more essences.

Anyways, I was upset over this, so I went to a local gun shop and tried out different guns. AK-47's, M16's, shotguns, pistols, you get the picture. However, this was kind of like in movies where they pause the current action to bring up a previous event. Therefore, I never was trying the guns out all at one time.
Somehow, I ended up with this gun where I had to flip a switch back and forth (kind of like winding a clock) several times to get it to load. The gun would have as many bullets available as I would have pumped it.

I then saw Joel Storie, who was boasting about finding some purse. The lady had obviously lost her essence. When I asked to see the purse, I was shocked to see it was Sophie Morris's!! I was taken aback. I asked him how much he would sell it for (for everyone that doesn't know, Sophie shops at thrift stores a lot, and I'm pretty sure she got this one there). With an greedy gleam in his eye, he said 60. My heart sank, as I only had 20 to offer.

WELL, after that I decided to stop this essence-destroying monsters. I went undercover as a member of the press (and yes, I was dressed from head to toe in khaki color tones) to some sort of outside museum where there was some highly publicized event to happen and waited for the controlled humanoids to start attacking. As soon as some random controlled girl started capturing essences, I faced her and said, I am going to destroy what you are trying to do. Your work ends here. After I made her report to Mr. Creepy that everything was fine, I then shot and killed her. I tried to flee the scene without Mr. Creepy seeing me in his giant hover-tank truck like-thing, but he saw me and started to chase me.

He eventually caught up. I shot him three times, but he didn't even flinch. He then tried to capture my essence but I semi-dodged it. Since it weakened me significantly, all I could do was drag myself away from him. Obviously, he followed. As he laughed at my efforts to escape, he captured my essence.

It was like I had been teleported to another realm. Here, there were overwhelming neon shades of blue, green, and teal. It kind of reminds me of indoor laser tag places. Anyways, people had obviously lost their minds. I saw Leslye Bourquin. She was sort of registering people to enter this one area. As I talked to her, I saw Laura Boyd and Michael Lloyd dancing to a tune only known to them. But they weren't alone. Others were sort of doing their own thing too.

Somehow, the whole place started shaking and I became aware that Mr. Creepy was losing power, as he was somehow dying. Thus, I ran towards what I perceived as the exit, while Leslye ran after me, shouting that I couldn't go that way.

I went down slides, mounds of twisting stairs, and side panels and wound up in a semi-airplane cockpit that also had Caleb Shelburne in it. We then prepared ourselves for an emergency landing but somehow, my consciousness started transitioning from the mock world to the real one, where I sort of transitioned in flashes, like a smooth stone skips water and eventually sinks.

(You can stop reading here if you want. The rest is boring but I felt like including it)

I arrived outside a court room, where the guy was being held on trial for fraud and kidnapping. He still had some people brainwashed (I knew because there eyes were completely purple) who were testifying that the alternate reality had been a wonderful experience. I leapt through the security he had put up, and loudly asserted my own claims of how he had manipulated and destroyed peoples' lives. I then had this guy's African American lawyer lady come up to me, stare me down, and coldly try to intimidate me.

Thoughts??????????

Trouble??

Sat, 22 Mar 2008 02:10:41 GMT

So, I admit, this entry is going to be pretty emo, but I'm feeling pretty emo right now. Get it.

It probably doesn't help that I am listening to goth metal with a female singer on last.fm. It probably doesn't help that I'm not talking this out with my friends, which are right on the other side of the closed door. It probably doesn't help that I'm exhausted and fairly anxious about having not getting a crucial assignment done.

Where to begin? I dunno.
Existentialism's theory of death anxiety: Well, I definitely think that I am a field dependent cognitive processor, which means that I rely on the existing structure of the environment around me for sustenance. What this means is that I have more of a life anxiety than death anxiety (again, according to existentialism); I am afraid of living independent of others. I rely on others too much.

Fun quote I'll probably use in theories of counseling, which I'll be partially teaching:

“The horror of death is the horror of dying with unlived lives in our bodies” (Norman Brown, Life Against Death).

Situationally: I don't want to talk to those around me. I'm plain tired out of being with them, and some of them are getting on my nerves (as I probably are on them). I really really really looked forward to hanging out with certain people this break, and I have, but I realized that...........
their lives go on without me, despite how much I care for them.

((To any existentialists that read this, I KNOW I am looking for an ultimate rescuer. I think I would mentally collapse without a provider. What does this moment of angst reveal about my search for freedom and authenticity??? I really want someone to answer that one, if possible))

Do people really stay with you? Or like death, are connections suddenly severed due to some external force (although it also could be internal).

And PLEASE do not start rumors that I am suicidal. I'M NOT. Mentally, I am just fine. Physically, I am tired. Emotionally, I'm fatigued. But my overall psychological health is normal. What I have been reading has simply made me question how we confront death and living, as I haven't finished death in psychotherapy in my freaking 400 page existential psychotherapy book.

I'll go out and try to socialize, I guess.

-Edit-
Every up has a down. Maybe this is the down part where I'm feeling down and alone versus the amazing up where I felt happier and more at "home" (whatever that can mean) than I ever had anywhere on Saturday and Sunday.
Saying goodbye is so difficult.

Uh oh...another idea....

Sat, 24 Nov 2007 21:39:25 GMT

I read an online entry from the National Post newspaper that triggered a series of thoughts. The link is http://www.csua.berkeley.edu/~reeser/geek.html.

Here are the excerpts that intrigued me:
............................................................................................................................................................................
Till recently, autism was believed to exist only in a severe form. Autistic kids have profound difficulty connecting with people, and always appear "out of it." But many have neurological difficulties as well.

But 10 years ago, Edward Ritvo of UCLA, in an attempt to study autistic children, went around Utah, and spoke to the parents of every known autistic child in the state. He discovered that a number of the parents were mildly autistic themselves. Some were socially isolated, had autistic ways of walking (were "odd ducks") and spent long hours rocking.

Suddenly, it seemed that along with some well-known physical causes, there was likely a genetic component to autism. As well, the psychoanalytic observation that some autistic kids had parents who could not connect with them seemed not so far-fetched: Some of these parents were autistic.

Mildly autistic people have a characteristic, Mr. Spock-like way of speaking -- overly formal, with little emotion. They have trouble understanding the meaning of tone changes in speech and can't easily make small talk. They can't read people. One of Dr. Ratey's patients, Aaron, a socially awkward computer programmer and a 34-year-old virgin, who might have passed for neurotic, couldn't empathize at all. Never having known what empathy was, when others understood him, he felt they had invaded his mind. He showed the signs of physical awkwardness and couldn't dance unless someone physically guided each step. (Many autistic kids can't skip, or clap in time to music, and have problems with rhythm and balance.)

Many mildly autistic people are right-brain types, often with great visual-spatial skills. Silicon Valley is filled with shy, awkward geniuses, who are able to be obsessed with certain interests or ideas; never letting go of them, they are able to make connections and discoveries the rest of us cannot.

Co-ordination of movement and balance are known to be regulated by the part of the brain called the cerebellum. We now know, from brain scan studies by Eric Courchesne, that the cerebellum is significantly underdeveloped in autism. It has also recently been shown, to the surprise of many, that the cerebellum co-ordinates both physical movement and the shifting of attention.

But more importantly, because attention shifting is slowed, autistic people experience life as a series of freeze frames. Thus, they have trouble perceiving the whole. But they are far better than "normal" people at perceiving the parts. Some autistic artists can reproduce, in perfect detail, a building only seen once; the "normal" artist starts from a sketch of the whole, then fills the details in. Autistic people can see things out of context -- the starting point for invention.
...........................................................................................................................................................................

For some reason, I can't get my mind around the topic of autism.
In order to stop my mind from racing, I'm going to order out the premises:
a. Autistic individuals have trouble shifting their attention.
b.The cerebellum, which is in charge of co-ordinating both physical movement, and the shifting of attention, is underdeveloped in autistic individuals.
c. Thus, autistic people experience life as a series of freeze frames and lack the ability to view the whole of the situation.

For psych majors or grads, what does this mean in terms of Gestalt concepts? Did dear old Fritz fail to take into account this population? Clearly, he had geniuses that lived during his generation (Albert Einstein). How would a Gestalt understanding of intelligence take into account people that have made significant contributions to our existance, while unable to perform most basic social functions? Or is it the Gestalt thought that can most aptly hammer out the distinctions of autism?

I guess this post is more of a questioning of Gestalt psychology than a proper desire to understand autism. I don't understand how autistic individuals could have higher than usual visual-spatial abilities, which is generally what Gestalt tests look at (finding the whole in the midst of unrelated pieces). Wouldn't Gestalt psychology predict that since an autistic person's parts are completely disharmonious (that is, that one area is sharply focused on while the others are disregarded), the person would have trouble living a significant life? Maybe I'm just pulling at straws. I want to understand the connection between Gestalt psychology (looking at the parts to find the whole) and people thought to be autistic that have clearly made huge contributions to society (individuals possibly include Newton, Einstein, and Hans Christian Andersen).

Comments?