by ekie
For the record, I don’t think that I’d make a very good protester.
I don’t really like standing around all that much. I can walk for miles quite easily, but standing tends to tire me out a lot, I don’t know why. I also don’t like noise, for the simple reason that it is loud, and it hurts my ears. From experience, I do not like the physical properties of large groups of people with disabilities, because between my clumsiness and their equipment, I get my feet run over, and that hurts my feet. Also, some people who cannot speak use their horns to protest, which is great, except that said horns can be quite, quite loud and I jump about ten feet in the air every time one goes eeOH! And when people start chanting I start covering my ears. Not to mention all the body odors you get when a lot of people are crunched together yelling their heads off.
I also must admit that I haven’t been to the actual movies in at least five years, because 1, I’m cheap and 2, for a person who is sensory-defensive, the whole atmosphere of a movie can be overwhelming. Also, what if I don’t like the movie? I’d rather not spend the $10 when I can, instead, get movies I enjoy from the library for free to watch at home.
All that being said, anybody in my area want to go and protest Tropic Thunder? Because if there was one on my area, forget about my feet, forget about my ears. This is about my soul. Making fun of my people hurts my soul. Yes – my people. My people, your people. People with disabilities. The only minority group which anyone can join at any time and which, if you live long enough, you are almost certain to be a part of at some point in your life.
Somebody wrote into my local paper today saying that PWD’s just need to learn to laugh at themselves, to get a sense of humor. I happen to have a fine sense of humor. I can laugh at myself with the best of them, because if I didn’t learn to laugh I’d spend my whole life crying. PWD’s have great senses of humor, especially dark, ironic, sarcastic humor, which is my favorite kind. The difference is that when people laugh at the word retard, they are not laughing with us, they are laughing at us. And who likes being laughed at?
The studio executives, I think, must have a brain that is as different from normal as mine is. Because my brain, my heart and soul, ache and writhe in actual pain at that word so much that I think a neuro-typical must also be in agony. And if the executives aren’t, then they must be missing some crucial link in their brains, some bit that makes them human. Some bit like compassion. Some bit like love.
2 Comments
20 January, 2009 at 8:36 am
“All that being said, anybody in my area want to go and protest Tropic Thunder? Because if there was one on my area, forget about my feet, forget about my ears. This is about my soul. Making fun of my people hurts my soul. Yes – my people. My people, your people. People with disabilities. The only minority group which anyone can join at any time and which, if you live long enough, you are almost certain to be a part of at some point in your life.”
I still don’t get what the big deal is. Tropic Thunder was not making fun of developmentally disabled people, but of how Hollywood portrays developmentally disabled people. Why does no one else seem to get that?
22 January, 2009 at 6:50 pm
Regardless of the intent with which Hollywood producers made the choice to “go there,” Tropic Thunder was one of the dumbest movies of all time. Not only did it TANK in its comedic attempt, but it was even BORING. Tacky, slow, and boring.
That aside, Ekie, you are fantastic. Reading your words is like listening to music. I’m not being cute. You could write a book about whatever you want (disability-related or not) and I would devour every word. You are gold. You must post again … soon. Right now it is 12:48 my time, in the USA. Where are you?
You are insanely impressive. I just had to get that out of my system. Have you found a job yet?