Intellectual Property Work Product, Fine Motor Skills and Who cut the Cheese?😳

Oh. The Good ole days. Of. Pencil and paper.

Head down, feet planted on the floor, sit up straight writing of our a, b,c’s and 1, 2, 3’s.

12345678910

ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ.

Ahhhh. So fun. Yet. So hard. too.

Cursive writing was the order of the day. The higher order of the day. The goal was proper posture. (No. Not that kind of posture) To align one’s body with their body and oh it could be hard. But. It took a whole school year to work on mastery of the individual letter writing. Think of the possibilities? But ya had to start here in order to get there.

Before a hint of delicious smell or the luxury of getting to the point of sitting down and reading a menu, in a restaurant much less, get your life changed by it. There was a process. There was an order.

Makes my heart ache. For The good ole days. On behalf of gipping or jipping the kids. And their pencils. Colored or not.

Disclaimer: Before being accused of anti-tech. Please refrain from judgment. Of me. Of your judgment of me. Gripping the pencil became a “thing”. And if your eraser was worn down, boy oh boy was that a tell tale sign of you and your “abilities.” Gross or fine. (Not that Gross)

Reaks of stinky cheese really.

Ableism.

Rampant. In the schoolyards and the whispers. And the sideways glances when you should have been keeping your head down, eyes of and on your own paper.

When did acceptance in to the schoolyards of today become so not “Accepted”. And who said “ok”. Clearly it was and became a problem with posture. Over time. At the time. Evolving to a place where. And

Talking one’s way “out of it” became either pleading the fifth, crying, or stomping and kicking the door on the way to have a chat with the Principal.

Now we are all here trying to.

Cover our papers.

Or the “smash and burn” of the evidence. Then the pretend we cannot speak anymore. Either medication induced, or some other way. The goal: Rendering silence. One way or another. And it can work very well. For some. For a time.

There is a sliver of a difference between Ableism and Disablism.

But the discrimination is still the same.

Horrible then. Horrible now. Horrible when it was used as acceptance for some. Horrible when it was described as a “pass” for others.

Ableism “sounds” so much better than “Disableism”.

But the modus operandi is still the same. So. Please sit down, feet flat on the floor and be quiet. While I explain. To you.

Discrimination. Pure and Simple. Is discrimination.

Don’t break out the favors just yet. The party favors that is. As in favoring you over you. Because the first lesson is:

Ableism-Discrimination in favor of non-disabled people.

Disablism- Discrimination against disabled people.

Does not seem Human. American. Non American. See where I am going with this?

I did not think so. One track minds tend to be TOO focused on their own needs and purposes.

And for the sake of sanity, let’s leave stereotypes alone—until we need them. Of course.

In Ableist Societies, the lives of disabled people are considered less worth living, or disabled people less “valuable”, even sometimes expendable.

OUCH!!!

Further the wonderful study of Disability Studies is an academic discipline people pursue in order to gain a better understanding of Ableism.

Hmmm. Sounds a little suspicious to me. But then again. That is my nature. Sometimes the walls do talk to me.

JK.!!

Sounds more like a “money game” big and bug business venture to me. You know studying the way a person holds a pencil. Is it easier to test their typing skills.??

Or fork skills.

Requires they can make it to the kitchen or restaurant in the first place.

Not to mention the invasion. Of privacy. Whoa. The intrusion of the personal intellectual property of an individual. Sideways glances and all.

Rampant. And used in so many “disciplines”.

Workplace.

Healthcare.

Education.

Media.

Sports.

The furthest thing from “ disciplined”. Wouldn’t you say? Would you agree?

Boy oh boy, can I get a piece of this Work Product Action?

I have got a plane to catch.

How bout you? Just a train. Sorry.

Even though what’s mine is not yours. And never will be. Sorry. Again. Give you credit for “creativity” or for your typing speed. Ok and points to you on that one. For the short term. Really.

The problem with your need for speed. May run you straight into a brick wall. Perhaps that was the plan for promoting lack of focus. For those darn dummies. The ones who do not “get it” or those poor doofuses. We will “take care of you”.

Too much talking and telling others “where to go”. If you ask me. But. You did not ask me. Which I am so ok with. I do not like you anyways. And I am not prejudice. Because I know the devastation it can cause.

I just do not like you.I am sorry if it hurts your feelings. Really. Sorry Siri. You do have a nice voice though. Perhaps you should be the one singing for your supper. And then if you do. Good for you. Provided you can get yourself from there to here, or there.

Operating a motor vehicle is just another work product that you should mind your own business about. In the interest of fairness and not being told where to go! I choose to not let you tell me.

The proof may be in the pudding. But the proof is also in the handwritten. The signature. More proof that you can ever mechanically handle. I am afraid. So I plan to and will stick with not allowing you tell me,

Where to go. I like my privacy with me in the car too. I don’t like to feel like I am being “followed”. That. And the walls talking to me is just too.

Creepy.

No matter how you type it into the keyboard, the code. So back to the desk thing. We are all walking, talking “work products.” intellectually propertied to run our own lives. Thank you for the offer to “help”. But I like my cheese cut into “fours”. And I can perform the function quite well, without you. Thank you.

Thank you for minding your own business. And I will mind mine just fine. I will be the one to let you know how it all comes out.

Binding. Blinding or Winding. Inky, Winky, Blinky, or Stinky.😫