At least, according to this.
I knew it. I knew it couldn’t be this easy. Whenever I talked about how my kids are going to have severe mental impairments because I’m so old, everyone would reassuringly jump in with “no, the father’s age doesn’t matter blah blah blah.” Well no. My elderly mutant nutcrust is going to create a race of paranoid dwarves who think the refrigerator is their mother. Mine in particular, as I’ve spent my whole life smoking, drinking and doing hard drugs, which I’m sure only accelerates the random mutations that addle your sperm as you age.
Or maybe not. Maybe most diagnoses of autism are actually bullshit, and maybe aging parents are precisely the type of well-off white people who bring their kids to the doctor and the psychiatrist and the neurologist at the slightest sign of anything, and are the types of people who have the money to pay for the egregiously expensive treatments that do absolutely nothing for autism, or “autism spectrum disorders.” Maybe it’s a whole bullshit industry for people desperate for something to be wrong with their kids. Mass hysteria meets Munchausen by Proxy. Meets the type of doctor who rich folks go to, who is never gonna tell you “chill out; it’s probably nothing.” Just like the type of dentist that rich folks go to can always find something wrong; every kid in the rich part of town always has braces. Continue reading
delicioustacos 