Beyond the Box

“Now that’s thinking outside the box.” – He said.

“I don’t just think outside the box, I was born outside the box!” – Part of a conversation I had with a sales manager a couple of years ago. 

Many a time I come across that worldly and over-used expression, “thinking outside the box” which is something quite an akin condition of the mind of an Aspie as well as those who think in inventive terms, the original thinker per se. When growing up and remaining undiagnosed for some 35 years with that typical feeling of being somewhat outcast or alien toward those who surrounded me my inventiveness and original thinking remained throughout as it does today.

However, I often considered that many who utilise the sentence, “he/she/it thinks outside the box” do so without any form of actual analysis toward the environment of mind that actually is, outside the box. When we consider ‘environment’ one is often subjected to pictures or thoughts’ processes of the physicality as opposed to the more applicable consideration toward an eternal vastness of thought and thought origin, the investigation original thinking originates from.

For me, thinking outside the box is essentially a thought construct seeding liberty. Liberty to me is to locate an independent path or paths outside of common societal mindsets indigenous to ones’ own perspective of freedom whilst remaining comparable to other’s self created entrapments and knowing with evidence that you are not like them. Freedom from internal boxed constraints or more often polluting factors such as, societal mindsets engineered by the vacuous existence that is herd mentality, oh yes, the herd mentalist, the plodding sentient humanoid so easily led by media, bought by politicians and subjected to by corporations (because the product must be bought, right?). It’s little wonder that original thinkers are reviled by the schoolyard bullies, feared by employers and ignored by politicians. Makes one wonder as to why this is? Doesn’t it? Or can you?

Always lead by example is what I lend toward being the best methodology of teaching, I wish to quash societal mindsets as these to me these are prison bars of fertility of the soil that exists in the great expanse beyond the box.  

Trial By Media

The face-palm inducing arguments I have had with persons who obtain their evidence from the suggestion of the newspaper / “news” broadcast astounds me to the intensity of their beliefs born of nothing more than sensualist type and literal band wagon magnetism.

For instance, say I come across a friend who introduces me to their son and I greet them by...

“Hey rockstar!!” Excitedly and ruffle his hair then a high five. Seems innocent enough,

Now the, err, “news” version.

“Whilst roaring at him calling him names, VisionGhost accosted a child and placed his hand upon the child’s person.”

Because of course, that’s what happened right? I have observed many who would read the latter and immediately have a drop down menu to conjure up all sorts of ideas yet only pertaining to one, that I am violent toward children as so many always choose the most extreme of all the options when in fact there exists only the one, the one the “news” wants you to believe.

I see it happened when say, a male celebrity is reported in the “news” by the story stating,

“Police were summoned to a call of a domestic disturbance by male celebrity’s wife!”

Immediately - male celebrity is a wife beating scumbag, he’s the enemy, online abuse ensues, facebook groups setup, calls for male celebrity’s instant removal from all sponsorship and so and so on and so on, turns out it was the wife who called because she was locked out and male celebrity who was watching a horror movie has the TV turned up too loud and didn’t even know she was there who her husband was being attacked.

Marriage

Here in Ireland we are facing a referendum, and the question is, should the electorate allow same sex couples to marry? Vote Yes or No.

I got asked, which way am I going to vote and my reply was simple, I’m abstaining from voting.

Why? Because I simply cannot apply enforcement of a notion one way or the other toward something in which I have absolutely no belief in, none whatsoever. Marriage to me is an utter farce; some maybe offended by that but let’s examine why I think this way.

Remember I mentioned liberty? Well here’s a thing, I believe in seeking liberty and freedom of the one in as much a capacity as humanly and socially as well as legally available, which you have to admit is becoming increasingly harder and harder to locate in this modern era; there exists approximately 7.01 billion humans on Earth, so if I was for pure argument sakes assume that an exact 50% split of them are female (I am heterosexual) is available for a potential relationship, obviously excluding those who are lesbian, not of legal age, not attracted to me or vice versa, other mitigating circumstances, so on and so forth, I could very well have foundered the potential for human coupling with millions and millions of females.

Now, going further, I believe in consensual non-monogamy, which in short means, allowing consent for your significant other to engage in sexual relationship with other people, be it regular contact or simply one night stands, etc.  Why? because we as a species are actually designed this way, males are meant to (spread the wild oats) inseminate as many females as possible, so, being that we have become the most advanced sexualised species on Earth this opens up a much wider playing field for, you guessed it? The ultimate freeform of human pleasure, yes sex, the greatest method to burn calories, enhance your immune system, create closeness and relieve stress, relieve depression, enhance confidence, oh the list of benefits goes on and on.

Furthermore, divorce, the most expensive outlay of any couple’s union is foundered in its collapse (which you must admit is somewhat ironic), keeping divorce lawyers rich and the courts with something to do not to mention the incredible emotional hardship, stress, maintenance payments, who gets the kids, who gets the house, blah. blah, blah.

Look, it is not my intention to doom all marriages to hell but quite frankly, when I examine the bigger picture I think with all the above considered, I shall remain as I am, a single man in a loving long term relationship who is free as is my partner to consent to the practice of mating without insemination for the sheer pleasure of it as we are designed to do without the contract.

The deeper reason I think this way is because, no one, repeat, no one to me is an object. Just because I used the word “relationship” does that somehow mean there is this invisible contract of ownership that somehow I can control what one does with her body of her own free will. It’s none of my damn business quite frankly. Yes I admit, having a sexual relationship with another outside his/her partnership born out of deception is indeed cheating, having consented sex with another which is in turn consented to happened by all parties is the jackpot.

Euthanasia 

This blog is becoming a bit longer than I had intended so I shall end on this last subject.

I was laying awake in bed a few weeks back unable to sleep and full of thoughts (yes you can imagine I do that quite a lot) when the idea of human assisted suicide entered into my mind and after much consideration a very clear and present observation of a stupidity occurred to me.

Personally I would support euthanasia in certain circumstances, in relation to quality of life being ultimately diminished to near nothingness as well as an incurable & terminal condition causing prolonged suffering until the inevitable end.

But what never ceases to bemuse me is how the courts, medical practice and those who oppose euthanasia are seemingly blind to the occurring knock on affect of their decision.

So patient A is dying, their condition is incurable they awake to a horrible daily cycle of suffering, horrific indignance and of course, an unbearable amount of pain despite the morphine drip. Currently we would allow these poor souls to go on meaninglessly suffering day after day, watch them waste away and eventually mortality thus takes them.

So here’s the thought, in that time, a country’s health system has spent perhaps, thousands and thousands on their “treatment” to prolong this pointless escapade when simultaneously Patient B has occurred a condition in which a cure has been found and a therapy is workable to either treat or rid completely and return Patient B to pain free normality but is turned away to die and why? Because the treatment sought is too expensive; now I don’t about you, but that picture is an embellishment of insanity.

Summarising, keep terminally ill patients alive until inevitable death at the cost of millions yet turn away curable patients because their treatment is too expensive. Please tell me I am not the only one that can see what is most seriously wrong with that picture?

Pharmaceutical industries as they say, don’t create cures, they create customers, makes one wonder.

Thank you for reading.

VisionGhost

Herd Mentality Autonomous Denialism

This is one of those times when the realist comes out of me, I am an Aspie, let’s face it, I am an “Alien to the Ignorant” <-- we’ll come back to that later. 

I want to offer a perspective within perspectives in the following scenarios to address how easy society is to be intrinsically enveloped into habitual behaviours that even the persons within said society can’t answer as to why they behave in this manner which creates a huge barrier to acceptance, originality or perspective.

So, here are three scenarios of which within only two words will reverse the entire outlook of the moment...

Scenario 1

Think of your best friend, male or female, they’re going to be accosted, attacked, kidnapped and subject to unbelievable physical torture, experimentation and then they are going to be sexually interfered with and possibly raped. To that end they will be subject to drug abuse to paralyse and cause psychedelic confusion if not complete memory loss. Your friend calls you in total distress, they are having nightmares, flash backs and have scars they can’t explain; but you just laughed at them, I mean come on, isn’t this just utterly hilarious, their pain, their torture, their suffering is so profoundly funny because this is a scenario of, (two words), alien abduction – suddenly kidnap, torture and rape is funny!

Scenario 2

Their child is on life support and on the brink of death, this virus is invasive and caused a horrific rash and multiple organ failures throughout the body as doctors take his/her temperature, open up manuals and try in utter desperation as the virus pervades into the spinal column and eventually the brain causing almost certain death if not irreversible brain damage from the measles pathogen that has overcome his/her tiny body but hey, the parents are so relieved, so absolute in their decisions to let their little one go through this as god forbid, autism could have been the risk, as after all they were (two words) anti-vaxxers!

Scenario 3

“Phew!” Thought the equal opportunities employer, he cracks his/her knuckles and leans back in his/her leather executive office chair, the last candidate is long since gone and by word he/she would have been perfect for the job, dedicated, loyal, well researched and qualified, several years experience and with the outside of the box thinking the company was looking for; I mean come one, the boss could never have employed such a person, never in a million years, come on, they admitted to having, (two words) Asperger Syndrome!

Now whether or not one’s eyes are rolling at the sincere inference of the above being some left wing lecture in equality and acceptance remains a debate only you can solve, but the point to all the above is simply this...

That Neurotypical herd mentality has a unique self defeating contradictory behavioural trait, where within you champion the one who says “fuck the establishment” you congratulate the one who speaks of uniqueness, you hold in mental high regard the one who speaks of equality and you worship the idealism the thought of individualism...

But yet, god forbid I, as an Aspie, be the individual you claim to adore because the raw truth remains, that you are terrified of the very thing you pretend to respect the most.  

The moment you are presented with the absolute exterior perspective, behaviour or conditioning outside of what you understand then immediate ridicule, bullying and destruction ensues in whatever format that may be fathomed. 

Is it little wonder so many Autistics and Aspergians are bullied at school, fail at job interviews and seldom make close friends? Before one can embrace equality one must rid themselves of all interior perspectives to a complete inner absolution of neutrality, only then can you truly practice what you preach and only then can the thinker external of the box be seen for the qualities that they possess.

We the Autistics and Aspergians are not the failure, you are, via your Neurotypical herd mentality autonomous denialism!

Only in recent days, a group of football hooligans rejected a black man from entering the train and started singing,

“We’re racist, we’re racist and that’s the way we like it!”

Now, I watched that video on Sky News (yes I am well aware of the inaccuracy for the validity of news stories from Sky News) the train load of yobs were singing along and when I saw their faces the grey matter most certainly was not active as they barrr, barrrr, barrrr, like a bunch of sheep in a pen where they belong; BUT don’t forget the back guy – he was noticed when on camera he became a victim of injustice, prejudice and racism.

We, the Aspies, are invisible from your perspectives, so the next time someone seems to speak clichés as if they are true, the one who talks with an external perspective, the one who seems to have the answers correct but spoken in a manner  that is not instantly cordial to the common normality well, you may just have an Aspie on your hands, which means with just a little understand could be the best implementation to your company, cause or function.

Now tell me, do you truly worship individuality? Stop fearing the individual and embrace what you preach!

Now, I mentioned “Alien to the Ignorant” <--- Back at the top!!

It was a title to a poem my partner of some five and a half years post date of this blog has been with me, it hasn’t been easy, there’s been plenty of ups and downs but no divorce, but Denise “Little Pixie” Ryan, an award winning poet wrote a poem especially for me and it is as follows...

Alien to the Ignorant

You are the furthest star

opulent in the universe -

no spaceship could ever

possibly reach,

but I succeeded in the journey

because

I believe in what you teach.

Love, soaked in purity,

integrity in your persuasion

require not physics or

mathematical equations.

A galaxy on earth, such

human endeavour

emotionally formed, poetically

clever.

Neither space nor time, just

this moment forever.

My cosmic soul – an

astronomers treasure.

By Denise Ryan

If Denise can get it right, what the hell is your excuse?

Thank you for reading.

VisionGhost

Hard Worker vs The Spoiled

I am 34 years old, have 12 years sales experience, live in relatively comfortable surrounds, am I in a stable relationship and can just about get by; however, it wasn’t always this way. I didn’t have the upbringing most people would deem as orthodox, I never made it at college, didn’t go on to university or get a degree and my home life was hellish, with undiagnosed Aspergers’ plus depression and a dependence on alcohol to get by just to rub it in somewhat.

My parents, whom I am no longer in contact with (good) were less than sympathetic to my plight but somehow I bumbled on through life drifting from job to job but always getting by, surviving, this survival that has taught me a massive number of even bigger lessons in life to the extent I believe my mindset to be that of a degree of wisdom that money for education just can’t buy.

So how come I’m not a Managing Director of some multi-national conglomerate firm? Why do I not drive around in a top of the range Lexus or BMW? Why do I not live in the house with 2 bathrooms, 6 bedrooms and a crystal chandelier in every room?

Why do the ones who are 15 years young than me destined to have all the above, in about ten years from now who never ever lived through what I did?

The answer to that last question lies in the mindset of the modern way of industry, that it seemingly is a vision of the future that the Millennial Generation Y vs X widens the gap between us ever more; that if you developed within a very fortunate environment, had lots of money, education was paid for and supported unerringly, degree under the belt via unparalleled encouragement and now drive around d in a nice car that Mummy & Daddy paid for, then your guaranteed to go everywhere in life as employers will snap you up in seconds and why? Because they love you because you were loved and spoiled, had your ass wiped and everything else done for you.

So what about people like me? People like me whom have had to work at it that little bit harder, had a shed load less and had to find a way, people like me who had to labour for hours of a day to make ends meet and to prove we are worth it, yet even now are seen as less despite conquering brick wall challenges in life. 

For example, recently I had a job which was good money in my books, but I got over-enthusiastic, admitted I had Aspergers, told of some of the difficulties I've faced in life and tried install some wisdom I'd learnt over the years; just ten weeks in and two days later after that fateful admittance, I was fired. When I got my reference they had lied saying it was a short term contract and in this "glowing reference" that they promised there was no mention of all the hard work, all the ideas I had, the 12-13 hour days, giving up my weekends at no extra pay to try and make a difference, nothing!

Over the years I’ve noticed a steady trend in the mindset of human kind, that if you had it all at the start you’ll have a much greater guarantee to have it all throughout your life despite being so ignorant of the way of that life and more than likely, a darn site lazier. 

Go here to back up what I am saying...

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2521743/Ethan-Couch-crash-Drink-driving-teen-killed-spared-jail-hes-rich.html

Generations ago, age and years of hard laboured work was seen as a congressional medal of honour, nowadays, it seems you do less and get more, assuming your below the age of 25 and have had a third party to wipe your ass for you.  

I feel that in the interview, on the CV, in the face of opportunity, I am seen as a second rate citizen because I got off on a bad start which wasn’t my fault but I fought through it, which seemingly in the eyes of most I am the unorthodox human being that no one has time for in terms of employment and advancement. It is wrong, it is prejudice and people like us to have to again try harder and harder to be recognised.

Go here and you’ll see what I mean...

http://www.thejournal.ie/newlands-cross-unemployed-man-sign-1220376-Dec2013/

I must say I feel bloody sorry for the elder generation and the people whom can identify with what I am saying; Maybe we should all standout on the street’s and wave our placards and body boards with the statement of our lives printed on it for all to see; is this really the world we live in that the “have alls” are seen and treated like royalty yet the “Have Less Work Harder’s” are seen as second rate and never given the chance? The gap widens ever further. 

This isn’t about the gap between rich and poor, this is the gap between fortune and misfortune, love and the loveless, laboured hard-working vs the already fortunate lazy, those who go with the herd vs those who face mental health conditions, those that have it so easy vs those who have to try that bit harder and so it goes on...

We all know there is no such thing as an “equal opportunities employer” but when we are faced with the idea that hard work and survival takes second place to spoiled brats and the beautiful rich, then, we all can conclude we have a serious social and economic problem that’s getting worse, every single day!

Thank you for reading

VisionGhost  

VisionGhost Goes to the Cinema

So last night my better half Pixie and I descended upon Cineworld in Dublin to go see this much hyped and seemingly positively reviewed movie “The Conjuring.” 

However, upon arriving I went to the machine that dispenses my pre-booked tickets, the idea being I get to avoid the queue, a pet hate of mine at the best of times; much to my utmost expectations the bloody machine didn’t work, despite having bought the tickets, online, the night before and being told all I needed was the booking credit card then hey presto the machine tells me (on screen text not voices in my head) that the card cannot be read and so off to the queue I grudgingly go.

Small mercy the queue was actually moving at a consistent pace while I suffocate under the intensive breathe of congested humanoid existentialism that is the formation of said queue I find myself at a server’s desk whom greets me with a fraudulent beaming customer service type smile adjacent to daisy the cow style false eye lashes, rainbow dyed hair with half a bucket of bleach and makeup from the bottom of the creosote tin her Dad threw away after painting the spider infested garden shed, I wondered if she had ever accused her boyfriend of being disingenuous.

Low and behold her computer couldn’t find my booked tickets either reliably informing me that the only data available was tickets I booked back in October, (No I don’t come here often), so thus I conclude the only thing I require now is a time machine and spontaneous memory loss in the seeking of Friday night entertainment; so it wrapped up with truly going back in time when the good lady consulted her manager, cue intervention by what looked like Hagrid’s wife, the tickets were, **drum roll** written out by hand, well fuck me is the pen mightier than the sword this very evening. 

And so thus we ascended up the lifts to buy snacks, neither Pixie nor I are popcorn addicts but I do divulge into the product of mechanically removed knuckle, genitals, soft tissue and cartilage of dead things that is the humble Hot Dog. So Pixie settled for a bag of Maltesers, those masquerading biscuit flavoured goat turds, the malt part I can taste the tease part I am still working on that part.  Three ketchup containers later I finally find one that isn’t empty and apply chosen condiment to the factory regurgitated edible dead thing.

Got to screen 11 and the display outside, digital of course, yes leprechaun land does have data display, instructs customers await in the foyer, so proceeded to a seating area and consumed the product and probable cause of my prostate cancer for when I hit 60. Soon enough we were into screen 11, ascended the stairs two steps at a time as I am man who refuses to wear skinny jeans and to the back Pixie and I go forth, for me to now vocally poke fun at every other unsuspecting patron that make the back seats look like a movie buffs commodity, the outer edges for teenager lovers who  spend the entire movie with one hand on their smart phones & the other down the knickers of the partner they came with and the centre aisle look like the Gaza strip which always seem to be preceded with a cautious debate of where the most appropriate seats are as to belong to their respective derrières shall commit to be seated. 

So thus I escape momentarily as a call of nature on line one is persisting sooner than expected, must be my age or else the prostate cancer has already started, and to the jacks by the grace of god go I to the temple of male urine stink and luckily enough for once, the hand dryer is working, there is no queue and the toilets also have been signed as to the declaration of utmost cleanliness sworn by pen of the signature applied by acne inflicted work experience student that the holy temple of male urine stink is hereby cleansed this day, trust me it wasn’t.

Returning to my seat, two steps at a time Pixie’s mobile goes off and outside she travels only to have the three seats next to her, that were reassuringly still free now become occupied by the Neanderthal couple fulfilling the legend of the missing link greet their arrival with himself enquiring,

“Is dat your bird’s seat?” Or so I could translate of the mostly indecipherable grunt, perhaps a cave painting would suffice for this communicatively challenged individual,

“No good sir, that is my girlfriend’s seat, the parrot is at home in its cage!” Is the pondered repatriation of his unfortunate inquisitiveness however I felt metaphors would be somewhat lost on this most intellectually deprived humanoid so much so I just simply replied.

“Yes”

 Pixie returns, sees them, sits down and looks at me as to enquire as to the origin of our newest barely house trained guests; I felt it more accurate and speak the truth which would have been, “Government test tube in genetic ape to human splicing experiment unfortunately gone wrong and thus released unto the world”

However, the yappy snappy fire breathing Cocker Spaniel of his girlfriend seemed to be somewhat within earshot and this is for an easy life so remained silent.

Three young teenage girls sit just in front to the left hand side, luckily I’ve got the aisle in front of my seat so stretching of legs isn’t a problem, yet as with all teenagers their custom duty to update their facebook profiles every 30 seconds is a call of honour to which life and reputation depends on it so I am consistently distracted by glowing smart phones; smart phones stupid people?

So the lights dim, the first of many advertisements begin, several late comers arrive again to stand on the steps, debate the gaza strip and piss off the already seated persons by the irritating and repetitive whispered...

“Excuse me, so sorry, excuse me please, awfully sorry, excuse me.” As said late comers navigate over toes, bags and already dropped popcorn until finding adequate spacing for their shapely derrières.

The adverts end, there is a public service announcement of information pertaining to cinema etiquette which involves a polite request to turn your mobile off, which the teenagers in the row to the left refuse to do cos their just so well ‘ard and rebel and now the movie begins.

As the cinema quietens down the cave dwellers to the left proceed to dig out their packets of sweets; you know the sound, that audible nightmare of the fellow audience member’s right hand seemingly going into a spontaneous epileptic fit every time they reach inside to pull out a crisp, a biscuit flavoured goat turd or the such like to the extent I was to beginning to believe that momentary Parkinson’s Disease was benign only to crisp and multi-mix sweet picketers.

If this was bad enough, anytime text appeared on the screen the Spaniel was reading it out loud for her lobotomised boyfriend; yes, he was actually illiterate as well.

Then the unthinkable happens, you guessed it, a smartly dressed, suited banker and his blonde piece turn up and expect Pixie and I move over so he can sit next to his blowjob of the evening.

Which results in, remember the geography? Yep, we’re even closer to the Government laboratory born primate escapee and his Cocker Spaniel girlfriend. It was then I noticed the whiff coming from the aforementioned primate; that kind of, I’ve been sleeping in the same bed sheets for six months kinda whiff.        

Again more late comers arrive, again they stand in the aisle utterly dumfounded by the complexity of having founded a newly equipped skill of observation and decision making, the type of skill I surely will not be endorsing you for if it appeared on your Linkedin profile; but after much profound bewilderment located their space upon the Gaza Strip and journeyed to their chosen location,

“Excuse me, so sorry, excuse me please, awfully sorry, excuse me.” 

Most of the way through the movie you now have the picture that had thus befallen upon me, the cave dwellers Spaniel couldn’t stop screaming at every jumpy scene, the teenagers Facebook profiles knew of their every pinnacle emotion, thought, opinion and the process to which they obtain the all of the above  every thirty seconds, the banker was whispering to his blonde piece - possibly having now lost the power of true speech through countless hours of begging; mid way through involuntary wee-wee’s ensued from the Gaza Strip and the movie was about as exciting as train spotting and to cap it all, back to the monkey human hybrid, I came to the realisation that they were, how can I put this? Up to something.

The movie being typical of the demonic possession ghost story that starts off well enough with subdued plot, all sinister and foreboding yet arrives upon its conclusion utterly OTT, melodramatic, predictable and having completely lost the plot.      

The movie ended, the lights came up and to the left I look to evidence of the ‘what has been seen cannot be unseen’ the chimpman was struggling to pull up his trousers, yes my friends, this actually was happening. I tutted my disapproval which was replied by the Cocker Spaniel,

“Tut, yourself!” So she said. I thought to myself of the situation of her being the only female of the specie left on Earth, I would probably kill myself, left alone tut myself.

Pixie and I arose to leave and I headed back to the holy temple of urine stink to relieve the 2^nd call of nature on line one readily about to leave a voicemail down my leg; once relieved it was back out onto Dublin Friday night streets where further intoxicated Government experiments were doing the Tarzan thing on every street corner and the shouts of abuse I endure as I was wearing a t-shirt with a peace sign on it, something that at this stage was symbolic of wishful thinking.

To home I arrive and finally to bed with the tinnitus abundant in my ears and thoughts of genocide matching it; wasn’t a bad evening I guess overall, I wonder if banker boy got his blowjob?  

Thank you for reading! 

 

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