From the Mind of Trevor Stone

A recent This American Life is all about that awkward period known as middle school. Near the beginning of the show, they state that middle-school-aged kids have more neuron development than at any other time after infancy. That period of our lives is thus, in large part, us becoming the us we will be in life.

Given that, I think my priorities worked out pretty well. Unsurprisingly, I was a nerdy middle schooler. While some of my classmates were learning how to flirt and switching their dating status every other passing period, I was learning how to use Unix and spending Friday afternoons at Computer Club (which is still happening, even though Scott Dixon retired). I also managed to get elected vice president of student council (probably because I was the only boy running) and competed twice in the state geography bee ('cause I'm a map nerd).

I didn't have anything resembling a date or a girlfriend until I was a senior in high school (summer 1997), but by the end of middle school (June 1994), I'd helped organize an international email pen-pal program via elm, found ASCII kanji instructions via gopher, had multi-way interactive discussions on ytalk before the term "instant message" had been coined, read erotic fiction on Usenet with trn, been confused by vi, and used two web browsers in an age when the computer teacher could still cut out and post every local newspaper article about the Internet. ("Whoa, check out this NCSA Mosaic thing! Unlike lynx, you can see pictures!")

I think it worked out pretty well. I got to put off awkward romantic fumbling until I'd learned what sort of person I'm attracted to. I got to use the Internet when it was still a text adventure. And while I helped the Unix-understanding neurons win the battle against the girl-flirting neurons, today my girlfriend gets excited by the fact that I work at Google. Oh, and in third grade when I gave up on cursive and penmanship and started typing all my school assignments? I totally have no regrets.

It seems like most people thought less of AI: Artificial Intelligence than I did. I wonder if it appeals to me so much because the lead performance feels a lot like a kid with Asperger syndrome and I identify with that sort of kid*. Folks without that identity wouldn't have felt such a strong resonance and their opinions of the film would be less personal. I also wonder how people's opinions would differ if the movie stopped at the first ending point.


* I've never been diagnosed with (nor, to my knowledge, evaluated for) Asperger's or highly-functional autism in general, and I don't think a diagnosis would change anything for me. As a kid I displayed a lot of Asperger traits: language acuity, introversion, empathy challenges, dairy allergy. When I hear descriptions of aspie kids I think "Hey, that sounds like me." Many of the traits are less pronounced for me now than they used to be. Some of that difference may be due to growth and some may be due to practice.

... if only we knew what mationality was.

I found the following list, written in colored pencil alternating color every three lines, while listening to a Pimsleur Mandarin instruction tape. It's from a ritual I did with Green Sabbat at some point, probably a new moon in the Weltys' living room.

I am adamantly creative and playful.
I am not scared of the opinions of others.
I am willing to give unreciprocated assistance.
I stick with it until the end.
I pursue esoteric knowledge and share it.
I try to realistically assess my abilities.
I find nuances in hot topics.
I can be entertaining just by walking around.
I can listen, analyze, and reflect all at once.
I find beauty in forsaken places.
I can change course midstream.
I can be entirely anal or entirely nonchalant.
I can derive pleasure just from sitting in the sun.
I follow the Tao nonpretentiously.
I am hairy and proud.
I am a resident advisor.
I am a student leader.
I am a role model for personal expression.
I enjoy being naked.

What's awesome about you? Tell me why you're a swell person.