I agree that it is rather low for people to say that epileptics are funny.
That being said, perhaps you should not take it so hard. After all, if we go around putting different concepts into two different camps of "you can joke about this" and "you can't joke about this" then freedom of speech is pointless.
Someone pointed out to me recently that the existence of groups like NAMBLA (North American Man-Boy Love Association) is proof that we actually have true freedom of speech. If we view some subjects as sacred, subjects that we can't discuss in a particular manner, then we limit our freedoms.
I wholeheartedly believe that nothing is sacred. I was diagnosed with Asperger syndrome at a young age, and I STILL think it's funny to call it @$$-burgers.
Hehe, I said @$$-burgers.
I might also point out that calling a person names which would be viewed as offensive by those whom such a description actually applies (such as "schizophrenic") falls under the same catagory. I overcame a difficulty with language, motor skills and non-verbal communication entirely on my own. A schozophrenic friend of mine arrived at a point where he no longer pays any attention to the voices in his head, because he knows they're not real. I saw a news segment on TV that showed a girl with down syndrome who lived alone and supported herself by working as a painter (artistic painter.)
People can overcome damn near anything. It's basic human nature. If someone doesn't have limiting factors (such as a down syndrome child who never gets the opportunity to take care of himself, due to the concerns of his or her family) and still chooses to be limited by their disability, then it's
their own fault.I understand that epilepsy is not something that can be controlled, and I won't mock Hawksecho for being epileptic. I understand too, that there are people who -due to their disability- lack what it takes to get over it. There are exceptions to every rule, I know. More than one, usually. But that doesn't change the rule.
hey ***-burger dude us schitzophrenic, slash bi-polar disorder, artist types like the old school way of calling (artistic painter) a
fine art painter, ifin you don't mind.
And my epileptic friend wasn't very funny at all, he was the serious sort, except when he was drunk.
Short personal story:
One day even before Bruddah Moki (made up pseudonym) told me of his problem he asked to drive my car (my three young sons were along for the ride also) since I didn't really understand epilepsy & why he didn't have a license, because I had known him for at least a year with no episodes, and was feeling generous, I allowed him to drive us to a park where we proceeded to play some b-ball while the keikis played close by. Well BM tripped on his slippah an fell down, then he went into something akin to strong convulsions...
god I got scared, I thought he was dying right in front of me, he had just maybe a week before told me he used to have seizures (i had forgotten already) and that I was to get something into his mouth if that ever happened and to use the slippers or a stick or whatever to be sure the tongue is not severed....(definitely serious) SO Here am I freaking out like mad because i am now in this thing ( his gran mal seizure) and feeling helpless and mad as hell that I am scared as fuc and my kids are running to watch this drama unfold.
I run to Bruddah and try to get the slipper into his mouth, it is foaming...I am so scared! Oh My GOD! I am not sure what to do, I begin to scream "Get me a stick...get me a damn stick guys!" (the teeth appeared to be very tightly clinched) "Guys!!! Hurry UP!" ... I am not good at people being hurt, and if anyone more in control is around I prefer to nearly pass out...that seems to be my thing. Bruddah is writhing on the pavement and I am beginning to cry and wring my hands, "oh god don't let him bite his tongue off...Oh God please!" I believe someone came to say they had called an ambulance...
Someone in a foggy haze gave me some advice like "get something into his mouth" and someone else (i think my oldest son) is like "no...NO! never do that!" I am just losing it...he comes out of it and stands up....he raises his fist to strike me, he does not seem to know who i am... and now I am holding my youngest son who runs in the fence with us...Bruddah is looking like a wild animal all around, a burly strong wild beast...he focuses on me again but appears to be quite mad...he steps toward me...I'm gonna die now if he hits me...
I start to run around the fence Bruddah it's ME! It's me TRACEY! Bruddah what are you doing! He looks wild still and he wants to punch me, right through the fence. Bruddah Its ME your friend Tracey.
I begin to cry. The ambulance arrives and it is their problem now. My friend will be alright and I didn't get knocked out...whew!
At the hospital he says he thought I knocked him out and really couldn't get who I was, during that episode. We get him home, our friendship was never quite the same,(i was scared of episodes to come) sometimes when we hung out...he lived right across from the north side of Kahaluu Beach...right on top of Alii drive, twenty five steps to the sand and twelve more to the water...I liked to visit him round sunset if I could, we'd sit and have a beer or two watching the waves turn pink and gold. He took his medicine religiously after that...said he was tired and had stopped taking it for awhile.
I was mad because I had let that fool drive and he could have driven right off the road with all of us...in a seizure.
I forgave him though...but it wasn't that easy to hang out knowing he might have a seizure and I liked it most when others were there to take charge of the situation...just in case. (i didn't want to get knocked out)
So that is my one story about seizures...epilepsy.
Not too funny. Mostly serious stuff.
Just imagine having this thing, you can't drive really...at any time you may fall down, bite your tongue in half...look like your dying, etc.
Kind of serious. I understand why it would be hard to have. At least they don't have voices telling them to kill themself by drinking that gum of turpentine right there....that's tough too.
BTW I am a "fine artist", who rarely has the money to do my craft, so I don't produce much anymore.
lotsa love Zara...now cool yer jetts!
((( And tell em something they can work with!?)))

t.k.