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The Asperger's Super Bowl Setup (part 3)
- 12 days till homelessness & counting -
Sorry for no post yesterday, as one of my online friends said: "You must be busier than a one-legged man in a kicking contest." I am.
So, when I graduated from High School at age 16, with all sorts of National honors and a full Scholarship to UC Berkeley majoring in Chemistry, my supposed IQ was 159 (as of last year - 137, but that's another story: MKUltra). Back in the '60s, the Autism Spectrum was not well defined, if at all. Yeah, I knew I was different than most of the kids, but not intolerably so. My intelligence successfully overcompensated for stuff like my tics & OCD (also not well defined in the '50s) by making me "Class Clown".
I was ejected from my 4th grade public school class 72 times in one year, so my parents (actually step-grandparents I eventually found out, were both evangelical Christians, "Dad" being a Southern Baptist Minister) so they thought religious indoctrination might help and enrolled me in the "Pillar Of Fire Academy"! (You can't make stuff like that up);{> Suffice it to say that what I have now come to accept as a valid definition of my behavioral non-'normality' is usually described as 'mild' (IOWs - 'not qualifying for SSI') Asperger's Syndrome.
Also, after decades as a rock guitarist, and in a day job as a Machinist, my ears are shot. I have had tinnitus ever since my 2nd wife left in 1995 (I attribute that to the absence of her screeching, in part. I am also 6'4" and weigh 230 lbs. Put all this together (Physique/deafness/Aspergers, and you have a big, loud weirdo. This was the basis of my being set-up by local residents & authorities.
But, back to the story. On the 34 mile drive from Springerville to St. Johns, handcuffed in the back of the Police car, head ringing from its inexplicable contact with the roof on my way into the back seat, I am channeling my inner "Protector" Alt. "Billy" (with me from early childhood, due to abuse). Oh yeah, did I mention I also have DID? Anyway, Billy is excoriating the hapless officer who bought into the fabricated testimony of the old folks who set me up, so I guess he deserved the ration-of-shit I am projected at full volume, non-stop, for 45 minutes through the plastic separating us.
We get to the jail and I am escorted to the holding cell, whereupon I begin requesting meds (CHD/double bypass in 2009) and my phone call (which I was never given, for the record). What fun. So they keep telling me I'll get my phone call after I'm booked. 4 hrs go by during which they finally move me to a cell with a toilet so I don't have to sit or lie 6" (in my T-Shirt and socks still, no bed, pad on floor) next to the pee-filled hole in the floor. I keep asking for a phone call even after I've been moved and why it's taking so long and they say "It's only been 45 minutes."
Finally the give me some jail clothes, a burlap sack for a sleeping bag and the most disgusting piece of holey threadbare muslin for a blanket. Still no meds, or phone call. Forehead swelling. 6hrs, 8 hrs . . . Finally, the next morning the judge who had dismissed a false harassment claim against me 2 days before shows up and signs my OR form, realizing that his dismissal of one of the Injunctions against me was the proximate cause for the final remaining Injunction Plaintiff to conspire with two other residents to fabricate the story for the police of my having violated said Injunction (I had not even made eye contact with her since it had been granted) I was watching the Super Bowl with two guys, neither of whom was her! She and I were NEVER even in the TV room at the same time, but that's not the story the officer was told. I'm guessing she was the "3rd victim". Now the set up is starting to make sense. 16 hrs, still no phone call . . .
Next: I get released after 20 hrs to attempt to walk 34 miles home in my T-shirt and slippers as the sun is setting into the teeth of a 20mph wind . . .
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