16 Jun 2005
Autistic Bloody Britain
“The endemic inability to see the world from anyone else's point of view”
rainman

I once saw a documentary on telly about Autism. During it, two kids were shown a toy being hidden underneath one of two up-turned boxes. One of the kids was then led from the room and in his or her absence, the toy’s hiding place was swapped, so that it was under the other box. The kid who’d remained in the room and seen the switch was asked to indicate under which box he or she thought the other child would think the toy was. Invariably this kid would indicate the box under which the toy currently lay. This is apparently an indicator of one of the interesting facets of Autism: people with Autism are simply incapable of understanding or visualising the world from anyone else’s viewpoint other than their own.

The more I try to make my way through life, constantly running across people whose colossal stupidity, ignorance and general fuckwittedness of the first order, makes me wonder whether their mother was artificially inseminated by a particularly retarded strain of plankton, the more I start to think that the majority of the human population of this country must be suffering from Autism to some degree or other:

The person walking in front of you who, without the slightest glance to see if anyone is beside or behind them, suddenly and without warning changes direction on the pavement and crashes into you -at which point they usually look at you in outrage and astonishment as if you’ve attacked them or something

[Hint: Take a look around you retarded fucker. Fancy that! There are other human beings on the planet apart from you!]

The 'supermarket browser' who wanders up and down the aisle selecting goods from the shelves. Meanwhile their trolley lies abandoned and [invariably!] arranged crosswise across the aisle at its narrowest point. When you move it out of the way so you can get past, they glare at you as if to say "Get your hands off that! What are you doing with my trolley?"

[Hint: Take a look around you retarded fucker. Fancy that! There are other human beings on the planet apart from you!]

The two gossiping old 'supermarket bags' [pun intended!] who meet while passing in opposite directions in the aisle and then stop with their trolleys, side by side, blocking the aisle and carry out a "So she says…​. and I says…​. and then she says…​. and I says…​." conversation. Again if you dare to shout an irritated "Excuse me!", because you want to get past this brainless barricade, they look at you as if you’re the rudest man on earth for interrupting their lovely conversation.

[Hint: Take a look around you retarded fuckers. Fancy that! There are other human beings on the planet apart from you!]

Waiting in the car to pull out of a sidestreet onto a main road. You see another car approaching quite a distance away, but you decide to wait for it to pass -just to be on the safe side. The car gets right up to you and then, without indicating, turns off into the very sidestreet you’re waiting to pull out of.

Didn’t you see I was waiting to pull out? Did it not cross your fucking vacant mind for even a fleeting moment to put your bastard indicator on and let me know I could do so because you were turning off here anyway?

[Hint: Take a look around you retarded fucker. Fancy that! There are other human beings on the planet apart from you!]

You go off somewhere nice into the countryside taking a couple of bottles and a few snacks so you can enjoy a nice picnic in pleasant surroundings. You see a suitable clearing and walk over to settle there…​. and discover a load of empty beer cans, crisp packets, carrier bags and other detritous of whatever lowlife used the spot before you.

What the fuck is that all about? How difficult is it for you to pick your shite up after you and take it back to whatever hovel you crawled out of? I bet, when you got here and wandered about looking for a spot to have your picnic, you didn’t clap your hands ecstatically every time you came across a pile of beer cans and polythene bags and shout "This is the spot for me!" No. I’m fairly sure you looked for somewhere scenic and unspoilt? So why can’t you make the mental fucking leap to considering that if you cleaned up after yourself it might make this a more pleasant place for the folk who come here after you’ve finished with it?

[Hint: Take a look around you retarded fucker. Fancy that! There are other human beings on the planet apart from you!]

This list could go on and on til it filled the entire bloody internet, but I reckon I should stop now before that vein in my temple starts throbbing again. No doubt I will revisit this theme again in days to come. There will never be a shortage of material in "Autistic Bloody Britain"!

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