Disability, understood as a social construct, must stand for resistance to custom much as a thistle represents soup in hard times. One thinks of disability soup as the unlikely but affecting disparity within divergence. In turn social construction is tenuous, febrile, a poor product of imagination. (For years, teaching creative writing, I’ve reminded students imagination is not wholly good as it’s wildly inattentive to reality and committed to paranoia. I think of “normalcy” as construct in much the same way. All the disabled must.)
Thistle and soup. (Moose and squirrel.)
Thistle: custom’s weed. Grows anywhere. Makes a good soup in times of famine.
Resistance: custom’s weed. Grows anywhere. Makes a focused alternative to normalcy’s paranoid fantasies—the worm inside the thistle if you will.
Do you see I’m having fun?
Disability soup: with or without the worm?
I’ll have mine with the worm. Extra protein.
Will this be a good day? Disparity within divergence. Resisting normalcy, foregoing it’s food.
Yes. Having some fun.
Have some thistle soup.
No one uses spoons.
A medicine dropper is best.
You don’t need much.
Henry Ward Beecher once said: “To array a man’s will against his sickness is the supreme art of medicine.”
Just a little thistle soup.
Gives a cripple the strength to get up and do her true divergence.
Planet of the Blind 