Let’s get my credentials established. I am not a movie critic. I have not done film studies at all. I have no background in any of this at all. My only means of qualification is that I am really, really, really sick and tired of the Generic Romcom Formula.
Everything that Racists use to justify their superiority is wrong. We know this. Nothing amongst it is more wrong than the phrase “survival of the fittest.”
I am Autistic. If the previous four weeks of articles weren’t a clue, I’m kind’a passionate about the entire social mire surrounding my condition.
Progress has happened. That’s a good thing. Awareness is spreading, more people know what Autism looks like and more people know more about it.
I have had a lifetime of falling through the cracks. Too smart for public school, too dumb to get a free ride with a more elite educational facility.
I was a child for the era in which measles could kill a kid. Hell, I had schoolmates who thought I had died, the year I caught all the spots. They were greatly disappointed that I was still alive, but that’s not the point of this particular diatribe.
Back in the 70’s, Asperger’s didn’t exist. Even if it did, I didn’t fit all the checkboxes.
