Artcow Erik "Taz" Mokracek / MollyHaleIsMyFriend / MGHSHour / CowboyErik and Anti-Classix - How an autistic 40-something attracts the attention of a whole slew of other autists

[Black Yoshi]

He's still using that picture of Penny.

I also saw that "animation" he made, if he drew everything in MS paint and had TTS narrate the scene missing-esque text frames he'd be on par with Davemadson.

 

[Barry Williams]

Davemadson

Sometimes I think about the post @Super Collie made about him and how she(?) insisted on following her usual format of naming the people in her posts and referred to him as "Dave 'davemadson' Madson" in the header. I guess that does technically count as a screenname.

 

[Ravier Xavenblood]

View attachment 7310051
He's still using that picture of Penny.

I also saw that "animation" he made, if he drew everything in MS paint and had TTS narrate the scene missing-esque text frames he'd be on par with Davemadson.

Even his Bitmoji looks like a mega autist.

 

[Black Yoshi]

Sometimes I think about the post @Super Collie made about him and how she(?) insisted on following her usual format of naming the people in her posts and referred to him as "Dave 'davemadson' Madson" in the header. I guess that does technically count as a screenname.

According to the Microsoft Sam Wiki his real name is David Neal Madson.

 

[Elaine Benes]

I was briefly friends with Erik on FB a while back. His feed isn't visible to those who aren't friends with him, but it's literally nothing but him sharing posts of various recipes.

 

[Barry Williams]

I was briefly friends with Erik on FB a while back. His feed isn't visible to those who aren't friends with him, but it's literally nothing but him sharing posts of various recipes.

Makes sense, he is wearing an apron in his photo after all.

I assume there were no other pics, just recipes? Not even him making stuff? Like chocolate wagons?

 

[Crispy Pancake]

He's really found a new hobby that isn't making Yahoo groups about his fake telly channel or sitting in the back of cars?

 

[Black Yoshi]

He's really found a new hobby that isn't making Yahoo groups about his fake telly channel or sitting in the back of cars?

Nah he's had it forever, he likes to rotate his fixations.

 

[Elaine Benes]

Makes sense, he is wearing an apron in his photo after all.

I assume there were no other pics, just recipes? Not even him making stuff? Like chocolate wagons?

Not that I recall. The recipes were mostly desserts, IIRC.

 

[EpicalWin]

A new fanfic, hot off the presses.

Spoiler: The Sorrow and the Party

The Sorrow And The Party
Caillou's feelings were hurt because he wasn't invited to Leo's birthday party.

Caillou made a cake and an ice cream sundae out of clay.

"I bet they are getting ready to eat cake and ice cream," said Caillou.

Caillou looked out the window at his house, he saw kids arriving at Leo's house.

"I want to go to Leo's birthday party and eat cake and ice cream," said Caillou.

"You can't, because you weren't invited to his birthday party," said Caillou's Mom.

"OK, Mommy," said Caillou.

Caillou played with his toys, and he found his toy piano.

"I bet they are singing happy birthday," said Caillou to himself.

Caillou was walking around, and he saw his blue ribbons that he won in the special Olympics.

"These ribbons remind me of ribbons on birthday presents," said Caillou to himself.

"Everything's going to be alright, Caillou," said Caillou's Mom.

Leo's Mom was baking a cake, Caillou was watching through his binoculars.

"I wish I could go to Leo's birthday party," said Caillou.

"Sorry, Caillou, you weren't invited to his birthday party," said Caillou's Mom.

Caillou looked at a hopping rock.

"Hopscotch is what we play at all birthday parties," said Caillou to himself.

Caillou played with his Mr. Potato Head.

"Mr. Potato Head reminds me of potato chips which is something we eat at all birthday parties," said Caillou to himself.

Caillou's Dad had to work an overnighter.

Caillou found a flat circle.

"This flat circle reminds me of pizza which is something we eat at all birthday parties," said Caillou to himself.

Caillou was making a cake, and ice cream out of red clay.

"This red clay reminds me of sauce on pizzas," said Caillou to himself.

Caillou was cheering up slowly.

Rosie built a school out of Lincoln Logs.

"Rosie, I was cheering up until you made a school out of Lincoln Logs which reminds me about Monday at school when Leo tells us about the party," said Caillou.

Caillou started to cry.

"Are you OK, Caillou?," asked Caillou's Mom.

"Yes," Caillou replied.

"Rosie made a school out of Lincoln Logs which reminds me about Monday at school when Leo tells us about the party," said Caillou.

"There is no cure for sadness, Caillou," said Caillou's Mom.

"OK, Mommy," said Caillou.

Caillou stopped crying and cheered up as time went on.

"There's always next year," said Caillou's Mom.

Caillou's Dad came home but only for dinner.

"We are having meatloaf, corn and mashed potatoes for dinner tonight," said Caillou's Mom.

"I bet they are going to have pizza for dinner tonight," said Caillou.

Caillou's mom took Caillou to a window near Leo's house, all of Leo's friends were leaving for home.

"Thanks for coming to my birthday party," said Leo.

The birthday party was over, Caillou watched as all of Leo's friends went home for dinner.

"See all of Leo's friends, they are all going home for dinner," said Caillou's Mom.

"Why are they going home, Mommy?," asked Caillou.

"Because, the birthday party is over," said Caillou's Mom.

"I understand," said Caillou.

Caillou helped his mom cook.

Meatloaf was in the oven, corn was cooked, mashed potatoes were made, Gilbert has been fed, Caillou cleaned up his clay mess.

"Go wash up for dinner," said Caillou's Mom.

"OK, Mommy," said Caillou.

Caillou washed his hands and then got ready for dinner.

"Are you OK now?," asked Caillou's Dad.

"Yes, Daddy," said Caillou.

"Why were you upset today, Caillou," asked Caillou's Dad.

"Caillou's friend Leo had a birthday party, and he wasn't invited," said Caillou's Mom.

"He could only invite a few friends," said Caillou's Dad.

"Dinner is ready," said Caillou's Mom

Caillou and his family sat down at the dinner table and had meatloaf, corn and mashed potatoes for dinner.

"I'd like some ketchup for my meatloaf please," said Caillou.

"Sorry, Caillou, we are having gravy on our meatloaf and mashed potatoes," said Caillou's Mom.

Caillou ate his mashed potatoes first then his meatloaf and last he ate his corn.

Caillou and Rosie took their baths.

"We are having chocolate cream pie for dessert," said Caillou's Mom.

Caillou's Dad went back to his office for his overnighter.

That night Caillou was playing with his toys, all the chocolate cream pie was gone.

"I loved your chocolate cream pie, Mommy," said Caillou.

"Rosie loved it too," said Caillou's Mom.

Caillou's Dad was back at his office doing his overnighter.

The weekend past and Monday Morning came.

"Rosie made a school out of Lincoln Logs which reminds me about today at school when Leo tells us about the party," said Caillou.

"There is no cure for sadness, Caillou," said Caillou's Mom.

"OK, Mommy," said Caillou.

Caillou's Mom drove Caillou to school and walked him into the school building to his classroom.

"See you this afternoon, Caillou," said Caillou's Mom.

"OK, Mommy," said Caillou.

Caillou hugged his Mommy, then his Mommy went home.

Leo told the class about the birthday party.

"Great party, Leo," said Miss Martin.

All the children applauded for Leo.

"I had to stay home," said Caillou.

"Maybe next year," said Leo"

"I had meatloaf, corn and mashed potatoes two nights in a row," said Caillou.

"So did I and so did all the friends I invited to my party," said Leo.

"I had chocolate cream pie for dessert", Said Caillou.

"We had leftover birthday cake and ice cream, my dad sent you leftover cake and ice cream, Caillou," said Leo.

Caillou felt better about not being invited to Leo's birthday party on Saturday.

THE END



Caillou's feelings are hurt when he's not invited to a birthday party.

 

[NOT Sword Fighter Super]

Caillou was walking around, and he saw his blue ribbons that he won in the special Olympics.

It's official: Caillou is retarded.

 

[The Un-Clit]

It's official: Caillou is retarded.

And his mom is a pretty mid cook.

Meatloaf, corn and mash is a bitch basic meal.

 

[Fish Maggot]

"There is no cure for sadness, Caillou," said Caillou's Mom.

"OK, Mommy," said Caillou.

Insightfully dystopian, Erik once again proves that he is an enigma trapped within the boundaries of his mental capacity.

I still can't figure out where on the tard wheel he fits. Sometimes he seems full spud, other times there's these moments of intrigue that are displayed in his, "works", that make him delightful to read about.

Spoiler: spergulation

I've worked alongside people with various degrees of (dis)ability and while there's plenty of individuals I can place on either side of the Taz spectrum, none seem to sit quite where he does. Is he unique in that regard? Or does he just have such a combination of unfortunate physical traits and hyper-specific autism that he just seems to be unique? I know there's a whole extended universe of spergs with interests like his, but none give remotely the same impression to me.

 

[Bojack Horsekin]

I liked the part where Rosie used psychological warfare on Caillou.

 

[King Kiwi]

So basically he writes the way Chris Chan draws; shitty.

 

[AmpleApricots]

A new fanfic, hot off the presses.

One is immediately struck by the narrative’s masterful deployment of iterative synecdoche. Young Caillou’s consciousness, fractured by the ontological wound of exclusion, becomes a prism refracting the mundane world solely through the lens of the absent celebration. Each object encountered – the clay simulacrum of confections, the blue ribbons, the hopping rock, the Mr. Potato Head, the flat circle, even the architectural endeavors of Rosie – undergoes a relentless semiotic transformation. They cease to be mere things-in-themselves; they become metonymic signifiers, desperately pointing towards the inaccessible totality of Leo's party. This relentless associative process is not mere childish fancy; it is a profound, almost Beckettian, exploration of consciousness grappling with absence. The party becomes the Lacanian objet petit a, the unattainable object-cause of desire that structures his entire phenomenological experience.

The parental figures, particularly the Mother, function not merely as comforters but as oracles of the Real. Their repeated, gentle pronouncements – "you weren't invited," "there is no cure for sadness" – perform a crucial narrative function. They refuse the easy consolations of fantasy or false promise. Instead, they inscribe the immutable Law of the Social onto Caillou’s psyche: exclusion exists, invitations are finite, sadness is an irreducible affect. This is not cruelty, but a necessary initiation into the fundamental lack that underpins social existence. The Mother’s act of showing Caillou the party's conclusion ("See all of Leo's friends, they are all going home for dinner") is a moment of stark, almost Brechtian, didactic revelation. It forces an encounter with the temporal finitude of the desired event, puncturing the illusion of its perpetual, inaccessible glory.

The domestic sphere, with its rituals of meatloaf, gravy (not ketchup!), corn, mashed potatoes, and the subsequent chocolate cream pie, serves as the counterpoint dialectic. It represents the quotidian Real against the phantasmatic Imaginary of the party. The specificity of this menu – its humble, comforting, yet distinctly un-festive nature is crucial. It anchors Caillou (and the reader) in a reality defined by routine, care, and small satisfactions (the pie's consumption, the bath). This is not escapism, but the slow, somatic process of re-integration into the fabric of the everyday, a healing found not in transcendence but in immanence.

The denouement on Monday morning achieves a remarkable subtlety. Leo’s revelation that the invited guests also consumed meatloaf is a masterstroke of existential leveling. It dismantles the absolute dichotomy Caillou had constructed between the sublime experience of the party and the banality of his own existence. The proffered leftover cake and ice cream is not merely a consolation prize; it is a symbolic suture, a tangible fragment of the desired object offered post-factum. It allows for a partial integration of the excluded experience into Caillou’s narrative without erasing the initial wound. His feeling better is not a joyous resolution, but a quiet acceptance of the incomplete, a mature recognition that the party happened, he was not part of its core, yet fragments of its pleasure can still be shared.

The specificity of feeling better "about not being invited... on Saturday" is devastatingly precise – it acknowledges the particularity of the pain while marking its subsidence. The cyclical return to Rosie’s Lincoln Log schoolhouse – first as a trigger for renewed sorrow, then as a harbinger of the Monday reckoning – demonstrates a sophisticated understanding of traumatic repetition and deferred action ("Nachträglichkeit"). The prose, characterized by simple declarative sentences and repetitive dialogue tags ("said Caillou," "said Caillou to himself"), creates a powerful stylistic mimesis of the child’s circumscribed world and obsessive thought patterns. It is an interesting aesthetic choice echoing the Nouveau Roman's focus on surface and perception.

This is not merely a story about a missed birthday; it is an allegory of desire, lack, social contingency, and the bittersweet consolation found in the ordinary. It grapples with the fundamental human condition of being both inside and outside, of yearning for connection while navigating the inherent limitations imposed by others.

In conclusion, "The Sorrow And The Party" transcends its ostensibly simple premise. It is a meticulously crafted, psychologically astute exploration of exclusion's profound impact on the developing psyche, rendered with an unflinching gaze and a profound understanding of the reparative power found within the rhythms of domestic life. Its achievement lies in its ability to locate the universal within the intensely specific, the profound within the seemingly mundane. It is a minor masterpiece of existential realism.

 

[Barry Williams]

One is immediately struck by the narrative’s...

hmm hmm

I too found it to be shallow and pedantic.

 

[Rome Is Burning]

hmm hmm

I too found it to be shallow and pedantic.

It’s insists upon itself

 

[From The Uncanny Valley]

hmm hmm

I too found it to be shallow and pedantic.

PERHAPS

 

[Raistlin Majere]

Uhhhhh...