I haven't written about economic conditions yet here because I feel that it's beyond me(I'm no Paul Krugman although his Conscience of A Liberal changed my life.) I'm just a citizen of a nation who seems to have never been fully sure that I existed, and I have spent my life, from early childhood in the Reagan years, and been reminded of this fact. Mom used to drag me to school board meetings.

I missed completely what some people seem to view as some golden age of Clinton prosperity, but I don't really write this out of personal bitterness(although college might have been different if I had known that Uncle Sam would wave the cookie plate in front of my face and jerk it away before I'd selected my own personal nummy treat)

I was slow to hear about the situation with BBC children's television host Cerrie Burnell. Several online friends had mentioned some parents' tendencies to want to sanitize kids' lives from all but the most Disney-fied realities, but that could apply to anything from a racy web page to blowback from an appearance on an adult television program, as when the actor who used to star on Blue's Clues appeared on the gritty crime drama Homicide: Life on the Street. (Not as Steve; I could see why that'd be upsetting.) Check out the following video.

I think I might be in love again, with another writer who doesn't know I exist. But seriously, Patrick Goldstein at the L.A Times, let me buy you a libation of your choice if I ever get to L.A. again. Your column about Jerry Lewis encapsulates so much of my disgust at seeing this glad-handing, crocodile-tear-leaking relic receive any kind of prize from anywhere, except possibly a partial credit for inspiring Krusty the Clown. This saves me from having to write an entire post on my own behalf, which I almost didn't want to do, because any disabled person who has been at all thoughtful about this issue has been to The Trouble with Jerry, and has read the brilliant analysis on this from Laura Hershey and others. So, you don't really need to hear what a pop-culture lightweight like me says about it, but it's interesting, isn't it, that for a community that often has no unifying force, how unified we've all been against this choice by the Academy.

I really hoped I would dig How's Your News?, even if liking the MTV chatfest puts me on the same side as curmudgeonly media critic Tom Shales, who has failed to spot a trend or have an original thought since Poppy and Bar went back to Kennebunkport.

I didn't have to worry about that, since I found every moment of News more painful than the one before, despite my generally positive feelings about people with disabilities doing man-on-the-street interviews.

How could someone who began his life as the sort of kid his own cousins made fun of end up one of the most iconic and beloved leaders of the free world? How could a politician known for flip-flopping and careless dabbling end up setting the modern standard for both leadership in a crisis, as well as hitting the ground running? These are some of the questions historian and cable commentator Jonathan Alter sets out to answer in his history of Roosevelt's first hundred days, The Defining Moment

Alter seems to believe that FDR's disability ended up as an asset, because his experience with the treatment of his own polio(the doctors made some bad initial treatment decisions) taught him the folly of always listening to experts and of sticking hard to conventional wisdom. Roosevelt's approach to the Great Depression was a high-stakes improvisation, in part fueled and informed by his earlier experiences developing what I suppose we might call a "wellness community" at Warm Springs, Georgia.

It looks like SNL is at it again. This past Saturday a skit poking fun at Governor David Paterson of New York ran as part of the regular Weekend Update segment. (Click on Read More and watch the video at the end of this post). Like the previous skit that ran in the fall, this one too made jokes about Paterson's blindness, made him look incompetent and portrayed him as a coke addict.

When I wrote about the previous skit I heard from several people who felt I was too sensitive and that the skit was funny. Further, those critical of my views said that as a public figure, Governor Paterson becomes subject to such attention in the media and on the comedy circuit. While I agree entirely with the second point, I can't accept that its okay to portray blind people as incompetent as these two skits have done.

My remote died the other day, a loss which I realize would not generally occasion the tone that my fake boyfriend Keith Olbermann might use to eulogize fixture of Negro League baseball Buck O' Neill or anything like that.
It bugs me though, because I'm feeling kind of helpless this week and like my plans tend to count for nothing, and it's hard enough to cope with the fact that my idea of excitement in the bedroom is knowing that King of The Hill is on Adult Swim at eleven. If I were able-bodied, I'd like to think I'd hardly notice, and the truth is, if I got magically cured today, I probably wouldn't for a day or two, just because I'd be standing up and sitting down randomly(Because it's there!) or running gratuitous showers

Am I a bad disabled person if I admit that I thought "Tropic Thunder" was kinda funny? I mean, not hilarious, that would make me a bad moviegoer, but I laughed, and I hate feeling that I should feel bad about that, being as how life is so difficult and I love laughing at stuff.

It's true "retard" doesn't ping me as hard as maybe it ought to. Mea culpa, as a smartmouthed sportscaster who had his own sins of temperament to confess to once wrote, but I was well into college before I stopped using it myself, and my mother has worked with people with cognitive disabilities off and on for years.

But which is the greater Hollywood atrocity? Ben Stiller playing an idiot who says "retard" or Hollywood conventional wisdom that says Sean Penn + jawbreaker=Oscar gold. Much as I admire Mr. Penn, he's not telling our stories when he does that, and that was the point of the "Simple Jack" sequence.

I loved and was chilled by the latest entry in the Kinsey Milhone Alphabet series. T is for Trespass
Any disabled person with an attendant should find a special resonance in this tale of elder abuse, identity theft, and one of the greatest fictional private eyes in history getting into a cat-and-mouse game with a dangerous sociopath.

I'm really pleased to see how the twenty-year-old Alphabet Series has been invigorated in the last few outings, but I've still got a problem with this book on disability grounds.

The villain, known for most of the book as Solana Rojas(I can tell this because it's not a whodunnit, unlike much of the Milhone oeuvre) has an absolutely loathsome developmentally-disabled son who's huge and jokingly named Tiny. I hope Grafton didn't intend him as a sign of Solana's evil, but he has a pile of super-disgusting traits including a tendency towards violence and a fascination with huge, hairy spiders.

My editor found
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/12/28/magazine/28mcbryde-t.html?_r=1&ref=mag...
The thing that struck me most is how political, or at least, philosophical, opposition can evolve into such great personal respect.Of particular interest to me was the fact that these two heavyweights could have such vigorous ethical debates and still have civil, even friendly, dinners together. Maybe it's this form of unity, rather than bland agreement, that Obama speaks about so passionately.

However, in addition, I'm always shocked to find smart people(and whatever you may think of Dr. Singer's application of his gifts, there's no denying he's got a fast processor up there,) who think since I've got a disability, the only thought I can possibly have is "Fuck! Can't walk today, either," but that's kind of what he implies in the last paragraph or two.

Of course, yes, I have that thought(even though the independent-living movement would like everyone to believe that nobody really does. They lie, too. Because sometimes lack of mobility just sucks.)

There is a dirty little secret going on in special education today. I hadn't known about the extent of the problem, despite considering myself a well-informed civilian when it comes to education issues. And I, as a former special-ed student, spent my share of time away from the class to chill out or think about my "transgressions"(which, even when isolation is properly applied, more or less, left me feeling more punished than mellow.) And I was not locked in the time-out room, nor denied access to a bathroom and/or attendant services. Even so, I doubt it was effective.

But I had no idea about the extent to which the seclusion(or time-out) rooms have been misused in school districts around the country, culminating in a case in Georgia where thirteen-year-old Jonathan King hung himself, ironically with a belt that a teacher had provided for him to keep his pants up.

I must admit that prior to the Presidential Election this year I began watching SNL again with the same anticipation and excitement that I did years ago when it was actually worth my time. And, as many Americans probably have, I've not watched it once since November 4th.

If I needed any confirmation that my decision to spend my Saturday nights on more useful activities was the right one, this skit provides just that. Sure, for those of you who will tell me to get over it, there are certainly a few funny points in this skit. Yet, most of what the SNL writers hope that we will find funny are attempts to support stereotypes and false perceptions that some people have about those of us who are blind. For more reaction to the parity, check out this Associated Press article. You decide. Watch the video and leave your thoughts.

Bruce Curtis is a for-real role model, using his years of living with his disability and his job with Berkeley's World Institute on Disability, to provide mobility training and adaptive devices to newly disabled people in war-torn Iraq. Even more than the challenges of an inaccessible environment, Curtis told Oakland Tribune correspondent Barbara Grady that attitudes and not picturing a future for people with disabilities are the biggest barriers to success for Iraqis.

Curtis is a quadriplegic who trains disabled Iraqis in how to handle the daily challenges of their disabilities. He helps them with using wheelchairs and learning how to advocate for their rights in a country where the disabled have few opportunities.

With the holiday season upon us there are all kinds of new advertisements making the rounds. And, I've noticed a couple that prominently feature people with disabilities.

The following ad comes from Best Buy and describes the experience of a Best Buy employee who helped a customer who is blind.

Another commercial being run by Kay Jewelers features someone who is deaf.