Lovaas Safari Tours at Erik's Ranch
You're probably wondering what a journalist of my incomparable reputation is doing on a lowly Muggle blog. Well, yesterday while I was working on a much more important article about the Ministry of Magic's investigation of marauding trolls in the countryside, I just happened to come across a blogger trying to fight off three trolls who had been lurking under a bridge. Of course, all I had to do was flap my lips a few times, and the trolls ran away screaming. I don't know why you inept Muggles can't manage that.
Out of the kindness of my heart, I took the blogger to a nearby tea shop and bought her a nice cup of tea to settle her nerves. Then I slipped a few drops of a truth potion into her cup when she wasn't looking. I never go anywhere without it, naturally. A few minutes later I had this blog's password, and I took the opportunity to do a bit of snooping. Well, wouldn't anybody?
In the drafts folder, I found a half-finished post about a proposed residential facility in Montana for autistic adults, called Erik's Ranch, whose advisory board includes the well known behaviorist Dr. Lovaas. Of course, he's not as well known as I am. Because I'm of the mind that all Mudbloods belong in institutions, I decided to rewrite the post to include a few of my own keen insights.
It seems that Dr. Lovaas' public image has been refurbished somewhat since the days when he boasted that he could cure autistic kids by slapping and screaming at them. Even the cleverly named Autism Speaks, which has never actually had any autistic people speaking for it, has jumped on the rickety old Lovaas bandwagon by touting ABA-centric autism insurance legislation. Now, I told the Wrights they ought to hire a witch or wizard to put a repair spell on that old bandwagon before the wheels fall off. Even a first-year Hogwarts student could do that. But did they listen to me? Nooooo, like all Muggles, they're much too full of themselves.
This morning, just because I don't like being ignored, I stuck a few pins into a voodoo doll where Suzanne Wright's heart ought to be. I still haven't figured out why it had no effect whatsoever. Not that I care what happens to anybody who's as incompetent as she is. I'll just point out here that You-Know-Who does a much more effective job of eradicating bothersome minority groups, as well as dealing with obvious Mudblood sympathizers like Brian Reichow of Vanderbilt University, who, along with his co-authors in a 2008 study, had this to say about autism treatment hype: “There have been a number of different reviews of evidence-based practices of treatments for young children with autism. Reviews which have critically evaluated the empirical evidence have not found any treatments that can be considered evidence-based.”
Anyway, back to Erik's Ranch, which is described on its website as "a structured environment for lifelong learning that encourages participation by residents, and serves as a destination location to attract family and friends to share experiences with their loved one. The ranch will offer horseback riding, photo safaris and other ecotourism adventures…"
The website is full of nice warm fuzzy cheerful happy-sounding buzzwords like community, inclusion, and the often repeated phrase "lifelong learning." However, there's no mention of what happens when residents decide that they don't want to stay there lifelong. Too bad for them, I guess. They should've made more of an effort to become indistinguishable from their peers. Then they wouldn't have had to face the consequences of being, in the website's own terms, "children who didn’t make it to the recovery we all hoped for."
Residents will be given "work" opportunities (the website's authors are the ones who put the term "work" in quotes, which shows what they think of it) and will be placed in jobs as groundskeepers, tour guides, and other service positions. Visitors to the ranch will enjoy this fascinating opportunity to create photos and videos of the lovely Montana scenery and wildlife—and, presumably, of the curious behaviors of the savage autistic natives on the reservation. It'll be just like taking photos on an old-timey colonial safari a century ago, when the sun never set on the British Empire, and when nobody except common riff-raff cared about such foolishness as human rights and respecting the dignity of other cultures.
If I were in charge of running Erik's Ranch, though, I'd have better sense than to let the general public roam randomly around with video cameras. After all, what if a slapping and screaming incident, or some other abuse or molestation of a resident, ended up on the evening news? No hype-mongers worth their salt would risk letting their public image get out of control like that. It's all about careful manipulation of the media, people. But then Muggles can't be expected to have the natural journalistic savvy of a brilliant reporter such as myself. I figure they'll just have to learn the hard way.
Gotta run now—there's a hot new rumor about Harry Potter to investigate! I'll just put a Confundus Charm on this blog so that abfh will be too confused to notice the new post. Silly Muggles are always so easy to fool.