Diet, Disability and the Meaning of Life

A weekend of autistic-inspired junk food adventures can be a real perspective bringer.

I think I see all 5 food groups there

As a proud and provocative terrain theorist, you might easily mistake me for a Diet Fundamentalist. 

What the hell is a Diet Fundamentalist you might ask? Good question, given I just made it up. It is someone who takes the curation and care of their inner terrain so seriously that it becomes the primary pivot point of their lifestyle, specifically in the realm of what food they consume. For the more rare Diet Transcendentalist, such dedicated adherence to a particular dietary convention evolves from a physical to a spiritual practice. 

The Hygienic Diet is perhaps the best example of this. Hygienists aim to consume primarily, if not solely, fruit and salads; they also carefully consider the combinations of the different plants they consume, and how they are able to be most efficiently digested. The rationale for this diet (which I largely agree with at a theoretical level) is that this food regime produces the least amount of internal toxins, thus keeping our bodies most free of disease. 

Of course, life does not operate at the theoretical level — practical considerations unavoidably and tiresomely assume a position of priority. There are many people for whom this diet seems to work perfectly while operating in their lifestyle constraints, and it is quite inspiring and commendable (as long as they keep the smugness to a minimum) to see them post a meal selfie of tastefully arranged watermelon for breakfast. For other people, subsisting on such dietary discipline seems impossibly out of reach: or, in the case of the paleo-aligned peeps, ridiculous and antithetical to good health and Upholding Freedom.

To put it another way: for people who have experienced chronic health problems that have been undiagnosed/ignored with stunning success by our mainstream health system, and who have cured themselves largely by re-directing their diets in a raw/hygienic direction, it makes absolute sense to maintain this level of discipline. For others, such asceticism (whether directed at the hygienic or any other rigid diet) seems self-defeating and distracting from other pressing life challenges. 

Personally, while I have gradually evolved my diet in a vegetarian/raw direction — including my staple 2 smoothies a day, which I largely give credit for my drastic health turnaround in the last 3 years — I remain far from a Hygienist. When I have my early afternoon muesli (I am a born-again intermittent faster who aims to never eat before midday), I usually combine 5 different types of muesli, mixed berries, with coconut-based yogurt and milk (sorry: “milk”). We all have our vices, and I am fucking hooked on muesli. 

Similarly, when I cook one of my staple vego curries, I chuck in assorted legumes, veggies, herbs and spices with reckless abandon and glee. My innards appears to be surviving well enough to this point, so I see little point in changing. 

And this is where I see the fatal flaw of the Hygienic Diet: that food represents an experience, not just part of a dietary and health regime. Whether you are stuck in a dead end 9-5 job, or have committed yourself to trolling our psychopathic elite overlords on a daily basis, the promise of your favourite decidedly unhygienic food combinations provides a comfort and solace that borders on the sacred. 

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As an illustrative example, I would like to draw on my experiences as a Disability Support Worker, which has so opened my eyes up to dimensions of the human experience that I can only recommend it to everyone. Unfortunately, in Marky Mark MaoGowan’s/McClown’s/Big Daddy’s NWO utopia of Western Australia, I have been required for the last 6 months to be injected with the current mode of state-sanctioned poison in order to do most of things I have kept doing anyway — thus I have been persisting largely pro-bono. 

I have worked primarily with young autistic men, which — as families of many such individuals can attest to — entails a constant process of minimising junk food intake. It is not an understatement to say that their greatest joys revolve (along with screen time) around the promise of carb-heavy snacking, and we meet them there by using that promise to instil virtues such as discipline, restraint and moderation. 

So, what does a hygienic-curious terrain theorist do in such situations, apart from be constantly triggered? They get over themselves, obviously, and realise that is is not their or anyone’s place to deny a human soul that which most brings them joy. 

Yes, there is a constant vigilance required to curtail their boundary pushing and lack of impulse control. Yes, you regularly have to be the bad guy, and be left wondering if you have been too harsh and overstepped your jurisdiction. But this is merely tinkering around the edges (and earning your pay check).

I recently spent 4 days with the young man I still support off the books (neither he nor his mum appear to care in the slightest that I am not Jibby Jabbed, despite the fact that we have only just come out Peak Omicron here in late-to-the-party WA). The entire South-West trip (notwithstanding the extended intermissions of Harry Potter fan fiction and disaster movies) was designed around food: on stopping on the first day of our road trip at the renowned candy store in Ravensthorpe; on finding a pancake shop in Busselton as motivation for walking the iconic Jetty, before our much anticipated visit to Margaret River Chocolate Factory on day 2; on visiting the ever reliable Daily Grind cafe down the road from Balingup on day 3, with its promise of hot chocolate and store-made burgers, before home-made nachos for dinner; on more pancakes on the morning of our trip back, only to be outdone by a lunch stop at Black Cockatoo cafe in Kojonup. 

While I admit it sounds condescending to be this blunt, it seems pretty clear that junk food is the central pivot point of his life — thus achieving a profound singularity with their Hygienic-dieting polarities — and by far the most effective way of getting him off a screen. But, more importantly and profoundly, it is also his primary outlet for being a virtuous person: for showing generosity, for sharing, for including others, for expressing his gratitude to others — things he does amazingly, joy-bringingly and often very humorously well. 

From a terrain theory perspective, it could not be further from the hygienic diet, and — oo boy, why not — arguably satanic in its wilful and joyful inversion. And yet — if our main purpose in life is to become more moral and virtuous beings, and I have yet to find a more convincing alternative purpose — it could not be (and probably never will be) any other way.

The diversity and mystery of the human experience — the unique reason why each of us are here on this plane(t) at this moment in time — continues to amaze and humble me.