Hunting Down My Son's Killer

Ha.. Mercury? Really? You are right, mercury is poison. But... there are too many people who have had spectacular results with colloidal silver, including myself, who would disagree with your post. Hospitals still use it in the eyes of newborns today to combat infections. Did you know that arsenic is not poison in the body if it is in organic form?

This is already a busy topic, and this is as good of a chance as I'll have to get something off my chest, so here goes...

There's an obsession verging on dogma in much of the hacker world that rationality is the only path to correct action; that by virtue of being hackers we are all somehow divested of otherwise human frailties like emotion, love, and irrational behaviour. As one of the commenters on this thread so wonderfully said:

> No, you're not some amazing savant that has popped up out of the mass of mediocrity that is humanity.

We are, every single one of us, a fallible creature full of fault, vanity, and ego. To argue that I am under the 'influence of cognitive dissonance' because I am falling prey to one of life's most unstoppable impulses is perhaps the strongest example I've yet seen of the absurdity of rational behaviour as the highest truth.

There is a time to be rational and to appeal to such sensibilities, and as hackers we live in those times more than most people. Crafting, debugging, and similar work pleads for rationality; indeed it is a necessary ingredient for much of the work a hacker does. But its applicability has definite limits, and as with any tool it's critical to know where those limits lie.

The core act of deceit comes when, drunk on the power and clarity of thought that rationality brings, the hacker mind tries to apply this tool to matters of the heart or soul. To pretend that the behaviour of a parent towards their child has its basis in rational thought is to presume rationality is a more human trait than love, or than the desire to express one's will on the world.

When parents say things like 'I love my kid so much that it makes my heart hurt', they aren't being flowery; that's actually what it feels like. A feeling so grounded in the core of our existence as a species that it's inseparable from physical pain; to try and apply rationality to that is the height of naivety. Likewise, when people say things like 'you can't understand unless you've had a child yourself', they aren't being dismissive. Parenthood isn't just another mouth to feed or diapers to change. It is a rewiring of your mind and your soul so complete and severe that it can turn love into physical pain. It is perhaps the most human event that has ever occurred in my life, and I suspect most other parents would say the same.

I have weeped openly for days in both happiness and fear for my daughter's well being. I have walked away from a life that took me a decade to build in order to ensure her health, and I never once questioned the correctness of that decision. Many of my decisions as a parent have been made in the face of rationality, made on a balance of many factors of which the rational course of action was just one. Walking that razor edge between the rational way and the biological imperative is an essential skill of any parent. It is a path impossible to describe yet clear as day if you just know where to look.

The only objective truth is that there are no objective truths. I won't pretend to say that my perspective is any more or less correct than anyone else's, but I will say this: rationality is a double edged sword. It is a potent weapon against bugs, suits, and dogma, but it is also capable of separating you from that which makes you human. Like any tool, it's up to you to decide how to wield rationality. Please just know the consequences before you start swinging it.

> Before you have children, understand that it's for the rest of your life. Really understand the impact.

As a father with a son with severe autism, and remembering the time before you were a father, do you think that anybody can imagine what it's like?

I have a healthy daughter (16 months old), and that alone changed my live beyond anything I could have imagined before.

I don't want to belittle anybody's imagination, but in my experience imagination only works well for envisioning things happening to you in short time scales.

I think a lot of people start out this way including myself. As you hit your late 30's I think is when even some hard-core no-kids people start to re-evaluate their thinking.

I still don't have kids but I'm not anti-kids anymore so if one day it happens I'll be ok with it. What changes is that you go around year after year and you start to see things become a bit repetitive. Holidays with the family, celebrations. Your family starts getting smaller. You start to see how much fresh new energy kids bring to life in general. You start to chill out about the crying and hassles that babies bring and not see them as so much of a burden. All of the things that you've done a million times are suddenly new and exciting because you have somebody to share them with and pass off all of your knowledge, show them all the tricks you've learned in life. I didn't really feel any of that until I had nieces, but I really love hanging around with them.

> do you think that anybody can imagine what it's like?

Oh, no. Of course not. But they should consider the possibility. You cannot assume that it's going to be 18-20 years and they are on their own. That it's diapers for only a couple years and then you don't have to change them.

No, there is no way they can fully grasp what it means. But they can't just assume everything will be fine. My wife and I did this, and we waited, and prepared, and we had kids once we were ready. Really ready, and I'd like to think it shows in our children, in our marriage, and in our lives. No, we weren't ready for autism, but we did understand that things could go wrong.

So yes, you are right. But it still can't hurt to think about it. Really think about it. More than what some people do.