Posted in special interests, virtual reality

Video Games are Safer than Home 👾 F-2

When you search “autism video game” on YouTube, the first result is, Are video games good for autism? This surprises me, since… well, the YouTube artist actually describes why it surprises me:

Growing up in the 80s, the main argument I heard for video games was they improve hand-eye coordination, as if all of us were to become John Connors from the Terminator films, preparing for some inevitable World War III scenario.

I never needed to defend my religious practice of video gaming, because there were always enough studies about the benefits of video gaming to justify its use in an everyday household. And I rocked the technology-based classes I studied in high school. The video games seemed to be doing good things.

Also, those studies were the perfect justification for me to be home alone with the SNES, the PlayStation—making little fuss, requiring less interaction—reading a whole heck of a lotta interesting vocabulary worlds in Japanese RPGs, fueling my Dungeons & Dragons writing, as well as inspiring me to write fanfiction.

The positives we have notices are things like Zelda games helping our son Ian to read. He was almost completely nonverbal until age 4, using only a few key words in some sentences. We had little hope that he would speak in paragraphs, let alone read.

While his schooling was the ultimate factor in helping Ian to read, one of the largest motivators for him was the Zelda franchise.

So it’s just interesting to see something that could be such a positive force in my life could easily be under attack. What I remember instead being questioned was tabletop RPGs: whether I was cajoling dangerous, witchcraft-minded thinking by playing Dungeons & Dragons, Vampire: The Masquerade, and Middle Earth Roleplaying. 

Thankfully, in 2018, I think the “it’s bad for the sanctity of their socials” stigma of tabletop roleplaying video games—and other geeky hobbies like Magic: the Gathering and live-action roleplaying—has dwindled to the point where the weird people can live happily with other weird people, without too much social stigma. But for areas who still hold that social stigma, it’s immature, given weird is “different but same,” by its driest definition. Social stigma to supposed weird behavior is social intolerance.

VIdeo games, tabletop games, and virtual reality studies have helped me understand the makings of the universe, as I explored in my posts on April 12th, April 13th, and 14th; but more importantly than that, gaming has helped me conceptualize the Theory of Everything, or the algorithm beneath my answers to existential questions.

This interview with Elon Musk helps sum up simulation theory:

I’m of the mind we live in a three-dimensional simulation of reality, with a consciousness within the fourth dimension, and that an eighth dimension must exist, with other layers of equivalent of importance; but it’s a bit far fetched, so like how we expect our good Christian neighbors to keep their religion to themselves, I keep my views of the universe under kindhearted wraps, using it instead as fuel for my science fiction novellas.

This is a documentary Chase and I recently watched about simulated reality:
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Posted in numbers, virtual reality

5 Stories about Numbers that Turn into Poems

I’m  embarking on another 3-part blogging adventure this weekend: my relationship with numbers. This 3-part journey will begin with poetry, then wind into color, before ending on my arithmophobia.

Many autistic people have vivid ways of experiencing numbers, but I think the most well-known individual is Daniel Tammet.

(Also, I am freaking out about the screenwriting challenge I signed up for, then forgot was on my agenda. I joined months ago, when the entry fee was more reasonable.)

If you’re interested in learning more about Tammet, his book is a lovely read:

🤓 Today’s Autism Video

🤔 3 Takeaways

  • Is it possible for the autism gene to be activated by the memories of our ancestors?—for instance, could an autistic savant of music be activated by a mother listening to a piano and thinking, “This is the happiest day of my life,” then imprinting that vivid, aural-based memory into the embryo’s DNA?
  • If our survival instincts come from trauma experienced by dead relatives from long, long ago—and we know rapid evolution exists—could shifts in our DNA’s developmental stages be our response to Moore’s Law? I need to explore this idea more: “There’s a possibility that genetic memory is linked to intergenerational trauma,” @-2:00.
  • Is my arithmophobia rooted in genetic memory?—and if it is, will enough exposure therapy result in a positive change in my DNA, or will “the code,” so to speak, remain?—and does my morbid curiosity and hypersensitivity to numbers line up with this theory?

🎨 Numbers, Part I: Story Turned into Poetry

Almost Everyone: “Why are you writing poetry!?

Relax, bruh. Read it without the line break, and it’ll sound just like a sentence written in prose (i.e., paragraph) form. Read all of it out loud, if the line breaks spook you.

Actually, you know what? I’ve been meaning to dust off my mic. I’ll read it for ya.

🤯 Head Math

Even though my academic math skills end at trigonometry, I’m fiercely talented with performing quick head math at the grocery store. Or when I’m trying to figure out how to get my best “Buy 3, Get 3 Free” deal at Claire’s.

But in the 1990s, (chilling number,) teachers didn’t like when I did head math instead of “showing my work,” so if someone catches me doing head math,
even to this day, I just
bristle with anxiety;
I look for my seventh
grade honors algebra
classroom manager,
with her too-round
glasses, low heels,
and her extraordinarily
long-sleeved shirts.

😱 Grocery Store

Everything at the grocery store ends with 97, 98, 99, or a dollar;

These are decidedly
good numbers—they make
me feel like I’m in calm company, and I especially
appreciate 2.99, because it’s in an intimate relationship
with 3, my favorite number—one of the few numbers I can

fully visualize.

😍 The Number 3 is Bright Green

The number three is chunky, neon green, and luminescent; it feels best to write “3” with a large-barrel acrylic marker.

Three acts as a lantern in the deep-dark night.

It’s the first letter of my name, turned on itself and curved;

It’s not afraid to show everyone how it feels.

😥 The Number 79 Makes Me Nervous

It irritates
me when something is 79
cents and 99 cents. I will buy
the 99-cent product, because that’s

a kind number, even though
the 79-cent item is cheaper,
and a 20-cent savings
over 5 trips is a dollar,

which means that’s 6 dollars a month
over daily trips, i.e., if you purchase
the 79-cent thing every day
instead of the 99-cent thing,

you can
treat yourself
to a local coffee shop later.

😨 So are Numbers Real?

I feel this sense
of panic, or urgency
to get away, like a balloon
filled with fight-or-flight hormones,
like electricity in the air,

whenever I consider whether or not
numbers are real, like living
things in a dimension
separate from ours,
dictating our universe
like astral clockwork.
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