|The Bio of|
Andrew Gold, not quite an anarchist, yiddishist, or tzaddik was mistakenly diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome at nineteen years old when his selfish bitch of a primary caretaker (who also happened to be his maternal aunt) threw him like a dog into the street, one rainy morn. The interviewing psychiatrist for Social Security Income happened to be more in love with pipe tobacco and a similarly antiquated diagnostic criteria than reading the latest journals—resources that could have educated him on the recent discovery of LDSD (Life Disliterary Soul Disorder). This often misunderstood illness afflicts the patient with the same psycho-mental weight as that of a genius author but without the impetus to actually write. Lacking the needed verbal discharge to healthily disperse this weight, the patient’s psychical economy effectively shuts down social business. It should be noted that Andrew Gold dresses in a manner very much like that of an early 20th century Eastern European Jewish author with appropriate hat, suit, tie. Just the same, he is destined to spend the majority of his life in the Brookline Adult Residential Facility where he will engage in sadly inane conversation until his death.
Andrew: Where were you?
Fellow Resident: I was at McDonalds.
Andrew: What were you doing there?
Fellow Resident: I was drinking a cup of coffee.
Andrew: I like the coffee at Dunken Donuts.
Fellow Resident: The coffee is sweeter at McDonalds.
Andrew: (Unable to respond—remains silent and stares off into space.)
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