Deep Sy

How I Learned to Walk with a White Cane

Sy Hoekstra — Fri, 01 May 2026 14:48:59 GMT

Hear me read this post on the Deep Sy podcast!

One day when I was a kid, I was walking around one of the Orlando theme parks with my family. I don’t remember which. I was legally blind at the time but mostly had enough vision to get around, so I wasn’t using a white cane. It was crowded, but I was doing alright following my dad’s back through the throng with my mom and siblings somewhere behind to snag me if I lost track of him.

I was holding what could only be described as a bucket of Sprite. Cups in a size that only exists in theme parks and 7-Elevens because no one else has the sheer audacity to sell them. Worse, the cup was flimsy, and I was dangerously close to a lot of passersby. I had to be less than 10 at the time, so I hold my parents responsible for the exceedingly predictable accident that followed.

Laser-focused on my dad, I missed an older kid who was walking right at me without looking. We collided with the drink directly between us. The cup’s floppy sides immediately gave way, unleashing a tidal wave of Sprite.

The deluge only got the other kid. I don’t know how that was possible. I must have instinctively tilted it toward him. He yelled. Having no idea how to respond and not wanting to lose my dad, I just dropped the cup and kept moving.

As I passed the kid’s mom, she said, “Gosh, couldn’t you see him?”

Bonus Episode: Dawn of the Hoekstras

Sy Hoekstra — Wed, 22 Apr 2026 11:03:39 GMT

In today’s bonus episode:

- Unceasing backpack larceny

- Big Pete the Pirate

- Drug-induced planetariums

- The world’s largest marketing meatball

Submit questions to be answered on future bonus podcasts here: https://deepsy.net/survey/4746402

Today’s music is “Mountain Lion Drums” by Andre Louis

The podcast art and other blog graphics are by Will Cheung

Find me…

Disability, Reproduction, and “Lone Wolves”

Sy Hoekstra — Tue, 21 Apr 2026 11:03:42 GMT

In today’s episode:

- Hilarious eugenics

- DIY artificial insemination

- Laughing alone

- An extremely beef movie

come out to some of the Reel Abilities events between April 23 and 30 in NYC, or check out their streamed films and events.

Become a paid subscriber at deepsy.net/subscribe, to get episodes plus the written stories a month earlier, and bonus episodes every other week!

Or throw a tip in my tip jar!

The podcast art and other Substack graphics are by Will Cheung

Find me on:

Disability, Reproduction, and “Lone Wolves”

Sy Hoekstra — Fri, 17 Apr 2026 15:48:51 GMT

Hear Me read this post on the Deep Sy podcast!

Under ordinary circumstances, I would shy away from writing about genetics and reproduction here.

I’m blind because of the treatment for retinal cancer I had as a child. The cancer resulted from a random genetic mutation, but the specific type of retinoblastoma I developed can be hereditary. Any child of mine has about a 45% chance of getting the disease. Fortunately, the treatment has progressed enormously since I was a baby. Children in the US nowadays, especially those whose parents know to look out for the cancer, nearly always survive, often with decent vision, occasionally 20/20.

Nevertheless, when my retinoblastoma doctor found out my wife was pregnant, it couldn’t have been a full minute before she started talking about prenatal genetic testing, and abortion. I wasn’t surprised. People often communicate in one way or another that disabled lives are not worth living. Do yourself a favor and don’t look up statistics about abortion after positive prenatal tests for conditions causing disabilities. You’ll get really sad, unless you’re quietly a bit of a Nazi.

So my work, light-hearted as it generally is, doesn’t feel like a great match for discussion of genetics and reproduction. Things get real dark real fast.

Which is why I’m so impressed by what I’m writing about today, the award-winning indie film Lone Wolves. It centers a woman choosing whether to attempt becoming pregnant with a distinct possibility of having a disabled child, while being charmingly goofy and making me crack up several times (even while sitting completely alone in my apartment). And it does all that from a powerfully empathetic and counter-cultural perspective. A huge thanks to the Reel Abilities Film Festival for hooking me up with an online viewing of the film with audio description (the additional audio track that narrates visual details for blind viewers) so I could write about it. It’s rare to access audio description ahead of a showing in the film world, even for big studio productions.

Light spoilers for Lone Wolves ahead, though many of the details are in the film’s trailer and marketing.

The film stars its co-writers, Matt Foss and the Tony-nominated Cora Vander Broek, as Ben and Fran, high school friends in their 40’s who haven’t seen each other in person for 20 years. The reason they’ve reconnected, and the movie’s premise, is that Fran wants to have a child, so she organized a DIY artificial insemination weekend retreat in their hometown of Toledo, Ohio. Ben is the donor.

The first half hour is the funniest. Fran has thoroughly planned each minute detail of the weekend. But her personality leans prim and reserved, so her discomfort is palpable as Ben receives voice and video messages explaining everything she has neatly laid out for him in his hotel room. Collection cups, sports drinks for rehydration, pornography, and more. She has a strict donation schedule over the 36-hour period they have together, and she seemingly can’t stop herself from discussing refractory periods.

But her plans run headlong into Ben. Her clumsy, oversharing, awkward friend’s anxieties, of both the social and performance variety, are powerful enough to throw into question his declaration on Fran’s medical forms that he has no relevant health conditions to disclose.

Foss and Vander Broek push their characters’ social uneasiness in these early beats hard, but without overselling. The two have a level of comedic chemistry that feels like they worked together for much longer than the movie’s extremely brief 15-day shoot. The result is comically heightened gracelessness that is a pleasure to watch.

As her plan falls apart in the face of Ben’s erectile woes, Fran nearly has a panic attack. She tries to regain a handle of the situation, first through gentle, accommodating encouragement, then through harsh rebuke. The panic and fixation on control are the primary way the movie implies Fran is neurodivergent, but the implications never become explicit.

Ben, on the other hand, slowly reveals several increasingly serious medical and mental health details that he has withheld: slow metabolism, difficulty with fine motor skills (hence the clumsiness), a family history of cancer, a bout of suicidal ideation, and a recent diagnosis of autism.

The last of those mirrors Foss’s own late-in-life autism diagnosis, which occurred in the middle of drafting the script. Lone Wolves’ director Ryan Cunningham says she recognized the signs and pointed Foss toward testing. Then they reworked the script to include a diagnosis for Ben. It was a great edit, not least because the way Ben unintentionally reveals this detail to Fran is laugh-out-loud funny.

Vander Broek’s performance is solid, particularly her portrayal of Fran’s fear. But she had less to work with in terms of writing than Foss. The reasons for Fran’s sometimes abrupt swings in attitude toward Ben can be hard to track, even though they drive most of the movie’s dramatic tension. This is easily Lone Wolves’ weakest aspect.

Foss’s performance of Ben is charming and thoughtful. The character is well-grounded in his past: his social and romantic misfires in high school (which include an overly involved prom-posal to Fran that she accepted and later took back), as well as his depression about the death of a loved one. While discussing grief, he explains how he found consolation and delivers probably the clearest articulation of the film’s central theme:

“There’s this privilege in learning that people you love the most, they may end up being the ones that cause you the most pain. You get to make this decision that acknowledges that to be open to the good, that the bad, or at least the hard, could be coming too.”

This is the challenge issued to Fran, gentle and humane as it is. Can she relinquish control, set aside the risk management, and embrace the odds of having a disabled child? Is what she loves about Ben—his compassion, creativity, and his understanding of her desire to start a family—more important to her than what is conventionally desirable in genetic make up?The questions are particularly interesting in light of Fran’s own neurodivergence. Is a world where people aren’t hesitant about having disabled children a more gracious place for her to exist? Does her own value hang in the balance of her choice? Fran never brings up economic concerns, which would of course further complicate these questions.

Witnessing someone take seriously the worth of disabled lives while processing these questions on screen was more than refreshing. It was affirming. A necessary reminder that efficiency and the avoidance of difficulty are not the sole basis for reproductive decision making. That we can value the entirety of life’s complexity. That disability is not always a deal breaker.

The fact that this happens throughout a jovial, bittersweet comedy is a testament to the thoughtfulness of Foss, Vander Broek, Cunningham, and the whole creative team. It’s also a reminder for writers like me that the right angle on even the darkest topics can help you find your way past the heaviness to the humanity.

Lone Wolves is showing at the Reel Abilities Film Festival in New York City this upcoming Thursday, April 23, and streaming for anyone in the tri-state area until May 5.

If you’re in New York, come out to some of the Reel Abilities events between April 23 and 30. They have an incredible lineup of disability-centered films and panels, and damn near every accommodation you can think of. They’ve carved out a pretty amazing space that it’s hard to find elsewhere. I’ll be at multiple events. Come say hi! And if you can’t make it, check out the slate of streamed films and events.

Living a Life Everyone Fears

Sy Hoekstra — Wed, 01 Apr 2026 20:09:12 GMT

Hear me read this post on the Deep Sy podcast!

A thought experiment. Imagine a perfectly normal person named Greg who lives in the fictional comic book city of Metropolis. Greg is walking down the street and Superman descends from on high, landing right in front of him.

“Citizen,” he says, “I wish to commend you on your bravery.”

“Superman!” Greg shouts in surprise, “What an honor! But surely it is you who should be commended for bravery. Whatever have I done? I am a mere dental insurance salesperson.”

“No, citizen,” Superman replies, “You are most certainly brave. Not because you purvey policies to insure the wellness of your fellow humans’ teeth and gums, but because you walk about the streets as though your frailty and devastating physical vulnerabilities do not bother you in the slightest.”

“Oh well goodness, thank you for your kind words, Su—Wait, sorry, what?” Greg says, suddenly confused.

“Yes,” Superman explains, “You see, there is virtually nothing for me to fear walking down the street. My skin is impenetrable. My bones are unbreakable. Why, your dental insurances are of no use to me at all because my perfectly white smile would be unaffected even if it were the direct point of contact with a speeding car.”

“A car is going to hit your face?” Greg asks.

“Perhaps not, but I don’t need to fear it happening, as you do,” he responds.

“But I don’t fear a car hitting me while I’m just walking on a sidewalk. I’m not particularly worried about the penetrability of my skin either, or how breakable my bones are. I’m just going to buy a coffee,” says Greg.

“Truly remarkable,” Superman says as he smiles condescendingly. He shakes Greg’s hand vigorously and flies off. Greg stares into the sky, reevaluating how cool he thinks Superman is.

After this encounter, how would Greg feel? Would he suddenly develop a deep fear of his environment, as Superman imagines he should, or would he just think Superman is a bit weird?

Superman didn’t tell Greg anything new. He was already aware of his physical vulnerabilities. Superman put them in stark relief, but Greg has always lived with them. They are not something Greg thinks about regularly. They are just facts about his life.

There is nothing he can do about human frailty. Except maybe join a cult that promises immortality if he will pay the leader (who is the eternal God Quaizar trapped in the body of a guy named Rick) huge sums of money, move to his compound in Florida, and take his endangered leopards on their daily walk. At least they can’t kill him thanks to Quaizar’s Elixir of Power. But barring that, Greg’s life will not change in any meaningful way after his conversation with Superman, and he won’t feel any more or less brave.

Regular readers may sense where I’m going with this thought experiment. This is, after all, a place where I regularly write about my disability and how non-disabled people interact with it. So where I’m going is obviously this: I have a special discount if you want to start your own business selling Quaizar’s Elixir of Power. Just bring three friends to my seminar this evening.

Ha-ha, only joking (unless you’re interested). No, my point here is that I get called brave all the time, much the same way Superman called Greg brave. People have actually stopped me on the street to tell me how brave I am more times than I can count.

But to be brave, you first have to be afraid. No one will ever place their hand over their heart, give you a sincere look, and say, “You’re just so brave for eating that grape.” Because eating a grape is not scary. Similarly, Greg doesn’t feel brave for going outside without Superman’s powers because Greg doesn’t feel afraid of going outside without Superman’s powers.

When people tell me, “You’re so brave,” they’re really saying, “Blindness sounds scary.” I can sympathize. Most people don’t know how I do most everyday activities, and that level of unknown is unnerving. Or they don’t know where I get the energy and motivation to figure out how to do things in adaptive ways. And I suspect they have a sense that being disabled means facing discrimination. I can even empathize with their fear to some degree. If I imagine having disabilities in addition to blindness, I know it would be a ton of work to relearn how to live my life. It doesn’t sound fun.

But understanding sighted people’s fear of blindness doesn’t make me afraid of blindness. Blindness is still a fact of my life that I’ve lived comfortably with for many years.

I should clarify I’m talking about people who think the act of walking down the street blind is, on its own, scary. There are aspects of blindness that are legitimately frightening, mostly having to do with how people treat us. The reality of unemployment of blind workers due to discrimination is good reason for anxiety. The stories I hear from blind women about harassment and assault by sighted men are truly terrifying. But I’m talking about the apprehension of blindness per se.

Knowing the majority of people are afraid of blindness, when I know with absolute certainty that it feels perfectly normal, is, to put it mildly, odd. I live in a world full of Supermans who are fully convinced their misperceptions are both correct and reasonable. They mislabel their collective ignorance and fear of the unknown as common sense.

I’ve only found one way to process the strangeness of this reality. I have to lean into the following idea and make it a core belief I hold about the world:

Since the average person is terrified of my life, I will be skeptical of the average person’s fears.

When someone says some experience they’ve never had is frightening, but it’s something other people live with every day, my reaction is usually, “I doubt it.” Maybe they can’t imagine someone’s disability or other life circumstance. Or some unfamiliar new group of people is moving into their neighborhood. They might be retelling stories they heard about Some city or country they’ve never spent real time in. Scary? I doubt it.

It’s not me being mean or dismissive. I just know at the end of that conversation, I’m going to walk away down the street with a white cane and no vision, which would also frighten them. To validate their fear would be to pretend that isn’t the case, to excise a huge portion of my life experience.

So you’re probably thinking the lesson here is simple. It’s to pay closer attention to the perspectives of marginalized people for wisdom that helps you holistically understand the world and approach unfamiliar experiences with a more open mind.

No. It’s to eat the free bagels in this Ramada conference room, hear my presentation, and buy $1500 worth of elixir. Whoever sells the most this month gets a Greyhound ticket to the Florida compound for a personal spiritual audit by Quaizar! Let me tell you how it changed my life!

Hey! Where are you going?

Bonus Episode: My Time as a Legally Blind Wrestler

Sy Hoekstra — Wed, 25 Mar 2026 11:03:35 GMT

Subscribe to my new podcast, Soccer Explained! Two episodes are out, and another drops tomorrow.

In today’s bonus episode:

- Rocking my little baby opponents to sleep

- The accidental angry upside down pin

- My daring, courageous victory over a kid who got an asthma attack and forfeited

- How to rid yourself of anxiety by quitting anything that makes you unc…

Bonus Episode: Blind Sports Fandom

Sy Hoekstra — Thu, 12 Mar 2026 18:44:49 GMT

Subscribe to my new podcast! First episodes drop next week.

https://soccerexplainedpod.com/

In today’s bonus episode, which is free for everyone:

- Tiny blurry baseball guys

- Little Billy, the only Mets fan in school

- The world violently spins exactly one half circle

- Big honkin’ hockey

Music by Andre Louis

The podcast art and other blog graphics are by Will Cheung

Yankees audio clip from Major League Baseball, originally broadcast on WFAN New York. Retrieved from

2014 world cup clip from FIFA, retrieved from:

My freelancing website:

https://syhoekstra.com/

Playing Video Games While Blind?

Sy Hoekstra — Sat, 07 Mar 2026 22:31:45 GMT

Hear me read this post on the Deep Sy podcast!

If you could watch footage of my day-to-day life around the end of 2014, it would not be uncommon to see me standing alone in a room, looking apprehensive, gripping an iPhone 6 like I was trying to snap it in half, staring at a dark screen, shaking the device violently, and, every now and then, yelling in fright.

Also, if you could watch that footage, where did you get it? Delete it right now.

But since you’re being a creeper, I’ll explain my behavior. I was playing a mobile game that had just come out called Audio Defense: Zombie Arena. It was an audio game, a video game without the video part. I wore headphones and the game created the setting through sound. I stood in the center of a gladiatorial stadium and zombies came at me from every direction. As I tilted the phone left and right, the sounds they made in my headphones shifted. I had to get them dead center, and shoot. If I didn’t dispatch them quickly, they got closer and the sounds got louder. Eventually, when they got close enough, I heard my character’s heart pounding (that’s when the yelling usually happened). It was the game telling me the zombies were in range for hand-to-hand combat and I could shake my phone to hit them with a golf club, or frying pan, or banjo (all real options).

There were fast zombies I could get rid of with a couple shots. There were colossal zombies that moved slowly, but killing them took unloading everything I had. There were zombies that whispered until they were right next to me, and then they started shrieking. There was a freaky laughing clown zombie with a chainsaw that ran back and forth instead of coming straight at me, the truest of nightmares.

The company that made the game was called Somethin’ Else. It was the advent of modern mobile gaming, and they saw an opportunity to carve out a niche in the market. The explosion in smart phones meant well over a billion people had hardware in their pocket that could download and run games. Audio games were much cheaper to make than video games of a similar quality. With 3D soundscapes, Somethin’ Else created novel audio worlds, which for me amounted to virtual reality. They had some encouraging success, got some media attention, and their games’ voice casts included Sean Bean and Benedict Cumberbatch.

Since I grew up with some vision that I lost slowly over time, there was a period of many years where I could play video games relatively well. Obviously games with less action, like Pokémon or Final Fantasy, were easier. But I was reasonably good at the Marios and Zeldas too. I had great hand-eye coordination, just not-so-great eyes. My reflexes, like parents, did the best they could with what they had.

But years before 2014, I lost any ability to play video games. So the possibility of games blind people could play that everyone else might be interested in was exciting. A chance to participate once again in the culture of gaming, albeit one small corner of the culture. I might be able to recapture the comradery of friends around a school cafeteria table talking about a Donkey Kong boss battle (until a nearby girl laughed, reminding us we were losers).

My optimism on this subject was partially due to the moment in history. 2014 was right in the middle of a thrilling time for blind people and tech. We first got access to iPhones in 2009, and enough of us bought them over the next few years that assistive technology developers were going wild creating new apps. Handheld computers with built-in cameras and an internet connection presented endless opportunity. For instance, we could point our phones at a piece of paper and have the words read out loud with reasonable accuracy, a feat that previously required desktop equipment and expensive software. Or we could get remote assistance for all kinds of tasks from hundreds of thousands of sighted volunteers at any time with video calls. The news was easier to read than ever, and the most important online conversations took place on text-centric social media sites like Reddit and Twitter. Third party apps for both of those platforms allowed blind people to consume content and post in fully-accessible, feature-rich environments unimaginable just a few years earlier.

Much of this was thanks to Apple’s commitment to making their devices and software accessible to screen readers (the programs blind people use to interact with computers via synthesized speech or Braille), and encouraging developers to do the same.

Earlier in 2014, at Apple’s annual shareholder meeting, CEO Tim Cook made it clear that the company’s work in accessibility was based in principle, not profit. An activist shareholder from a conservative think tank led an unsuccessful revolt among Apple’s owners because, he alleged, the company was sometimes pursuing goals which conflicted with the goal of making as much money as humanly possible. The man was chasing a lifelong dream of physically transforming into a cartoon parody of a conservative person. Cook responded indignantly to Cartoon Man, asserting that Apple has morals and values quite apart from generating revenue, thank you very much. He invoked blind people as an example. “When we work on making our devices accessible by the blind, I don’t consider the bloody ROI.” The blind community cheered (and chose not to speculate why the Alabama-born Cook decided in this moment to feign Britishness).

Given this mood, I thought, why not a big new mainstream category of audio games? Everything else in tech was becoming more inclusive. Maybe sighted people would have fun gaming from someone else’s perspective. Maybe they would even do it because inclusion itself is a worthy goal, like Cook said. Perhaps we were standing upon the precipice of a new era of accessibility. Perchance the world we had always dreamed of was being born, guided by the benevolent midwifery of Silicon Valley. Could it be? Were we facing the dawning of a thousand beautiful, utopian tomorrows?

Ha-ha, no.

Somethin’ Else put out four or five games before ceasing all development at the end of 2015. Sighted gamers just didn’t care that much about audio games. Certainly not enough to pay the salaries of Ned Stark and Dr. Strange.

At the end of the day, sighted people have a hard time interacting with a screen that doesn’t have anything pretty or shiny on it. I can’t say I blame them. It feels wrong. There are videos and podcasts, TV and radio. Screens are for watching and headphones are for listening. Audio games ask us to use a screen but only listen. That’s fine with me. I use everything to listen. There’s no distinction. Podcasts compete with TV shows for my attention. It’s all just an audio track from a phone in my pocket. Sighted people are not used to blurring those lines. Why would they be? It’s nice to look at things. I remember that. I should have foreseen their preference.

I also should have expected the subsequent behavior of big, for-profit tech firms, whose goals are a little closer to Cartoon Man’s than they might have you believe. Twitter and Reddit eviscerated all the third-party apps that blind people loved because they didn’t show the platforms’ ads. And then, of course, along came a conspiracy-theory-spouting space fascist who grew up with all the privilege and comfort apartheid money could buy. He took over Twitter and immediately fired the entire accessibility team to reduce costs. Twitter is a flaming garbage pit now. Not just because Musk flooded it with bots, Nazis, AI slop, and porn, but also because it’s far less useable with screen readers.

Moreover, someone eventually pointed out to me that Apple’s accessibility commitment was something less than pure of heart. In the early 2000’s, third-party software developers stopped making screen readers for Apple. There weren’t enough blind people using Macs at the time to justify the investment. But school systems and governments were increasingly requiring computers they purchased to be accessible. If Apple wanted to remain a bidder for those lucrative contracts, they had to make their own built-in screen reader and commit to non-discrimination.

So it was, after all, about the bloody ROI, innit?

The world of mobile audio games eventually settled into a sustainable pattern of producing low-budget mini-games played almost exclusively by blind people. Nothing remotely intricate or mainstream. Some completely blind gamers also enjoy word puzzle games, or titles in the style of old-fashioned text adventures. Not a whole lot else. For my money, the most interesting progress has been in existing mainstream games that have features making things easier on low-vision players who still have some useable vision.

Ultimately, this is fine with me. I miss gaming. But I would spend far too much of my life on games if I had more access. I once got really into a text adventure called Zombie Exodus (What is it with me and zombies?). Then I got an iOS update that made Siri suggest apps based on what apps I usually used in certain locations. The next morning, a notification popped up: “You’re at work, open Zombie Exodus?” In some alternative universe, there is a sighted Sy at a Games Anonymous meeting talking about surrendering to a higher power.

The hard part here, far from unique to the world of gaming or tech, was my realization that discrimination is so often the default. And its causes are diverse. Sometimes, the innocent and perfectly understandable desire of individual sighted gamers to play video games means the market for creative, high-quality audio games will just never be there. Sometimes it’s the insatiable greed of gargantuan corporate monstrosities. Either way, it’s pretty tough to change, unless you get the chance to regulate government contracts, or something similarly powerful. That’s often the disability experience. The world is what it is. When you get the chance to have some novel fun and blast some virtual-reality zombies to bits, you take it. You enjoy it, while it lasts.

Is this a happy note to end on? Not really. But you don’t deserve a happy ending. I haven’t forgotten how you’ve been surveilling me via video 24/7 for over a decade. Shame on you!

Playing Video Games While Blind?

Sy Hoekstra — Sat, 07 Mar 2026 22:30:40 GMT

In today’s episode:

- You’re a spy!

- Attack of the chainsaw clown zombies

- Alabama goes British

- Tech bro midwives

Become a paid subscriber at deepsy.net/subscribe, to get episodes plus the written stories a month earlier, and support what I’m doing here!

Or throw a tip in my tip jar!

The podcast art and other Substack graphics are by Will Cheung

Find me on:

Bonus Episode: Making Content on a Highly Visual Internet While Blind

Sy Hoekstra — Tue, 03 Mar 2026 12:03:00 GMT

In today’s episode:

- The devastating difference between left and right

- Volunteer sisters

- Serenity praying through the internet

- Daily garbage delivery

Submit questions to be answered on future bonus podcasts here: https://deepsy.net/survey/4746402

Today’s music is “Old School Menu Music” by Andre Louis

The podcast art and other blog graphics are by Will …

Tips for Ending Unwelcome Conversations Using Your Prosthetic Eyes

Sy Hoekstra — Wed, 18 Feb 2026 12:03:08 GMT

A content warning for those who become easily queasy. Also, hear me read this post on this week’s Deep Sy podcast episode.

We’ve all been there. You’re at a party trying to blow off steam when someone corners you and won’t shut up about their job, or their hobbies, or their children’s medical struggles. But you have prosthetic eyes, and they’re your tickets to freedom, baby! Here’s how to escape the most persistent talkers using those two godsends in your skull.

1. Give Them a Good Squelchy Poke

While the talker is droning on, reach up and grab both eyes with your pointer and thumb. Pull slightly to make a little room back there. Wait a second for some liquid to fill the space. Keep your face completely casual as you give those little guys a firm jab to make a noise like you’re squeezing out the last of two tiny ketchup bottles. About one in four talkers will gag and excuse themselves right then and there.

2. Yank Them out and Clean Them

Take two small plungers out of your pocket, stick them to the front of your eyes, and pop those suckers out. Start polishing them with a handkerchief. Act like nothing strange is happening and stare directly at the talker with your empty sockets.

3. Put Them in Your Mouth

Really rattle those guys around in there. Intermittently say “Yum” just loud enough for the talker to hear. Groan like you’re savoring them deeply. You’re in heaven right now. See if you can covertly slip a pretzel in there too so you sound like you’re crunching down hard on the glass.

4. Do a Spit Take

Wait for the talker to say something surprising, and launch those bad boys as hard as you can. Bonus points if you hit the talker’s face. A real pro can get them straight down the talker’s throat and make them choke. Conversation over! They can’t blab on about coaching underprivileged youth when you blast their esophagus with eyeballs!

5. Dive on the Floor

Yell “Oh no! My eyes!” Hurl yourself down, bowling over the talker, and frantically feel around on the ground. Cry, “You’ve made me lose my magnificent face marbles!”

6. Vow to Have the Talker’s Eyes as Vengeance

After searching in vain, stop, scowl, and slowly turn your eyeless visage back upon the talker. Make your solemn oath for all to hear. “You shall rue this day when I pluck those flesh sacks from your brain and impenetrable darkness consumes your mind for all eternity.”

Nobody makes it past the vow. They usually run home screaming. So then just go in the bathroom, stick googly eyes on a couple ping pong balls, reinsert, and get back out on the dance floor!

Hopefully somebody finds the real ones.

Tips for Ending Unwelcome Conversations Using Your Prosthetic Eyes

Sy Hoekstra — Wed, 18 Feb 2026 12:03:00 GMT

Content warning for those who become easily queasy.

In today’s episode:

- A short humor piece, plus accessibility and snow

- Reverse Mark Twaining

- Snow makes coffee bad

- Eyeball blasters (eyeballs=ammo, not target)

Become a paid subscriber at deepsy.net/subscribe, to get episodes plus the written stories a month earlier, and support what I’m doing here!

Or throw a tip in my tip jar!

The podcast art and other Substack graphics are by Will Cheung

Find me on:

Hear me read this post on the Deep Sy Podcast.

Bonus Episode: More on Kids and Blindness, Feat. My Toddler Again

Sy Hoekstra — Wed, 11 Feb 2026 22:18:02 GMT

In today’s episode:

- A gesture of pity from a second grader

- Cyclopes

- The shocking medical effects of makeup

- Unconventional horticulture

Submit questions you have for me to be answered on future bonus podcasts here: https://deepsy.net/survey/4746402

Today’s music is “Wake Up, You’ve Got Work to Do” by Andre Louis

The podcast art and other blog graphics a…

Realistic Blindness Simulation Exercises for Effective Corporate Team Building

Sy Hoekstra — Wed, 04 Feb 2026 18:02:37 GMT

Alright, alright, circle up, American Sky Life Insurance and Casualty Corporation employee team building retreaters! Welcome back, everyone! How was walking around with those blindfolds on? Were our blind volunteers good guides? Well, they’ve had a little experience, ha-ha. We kid around here. Disability is not something to be afraid of. You can have fun with it.

Now we’re gonna move on to part two of the exercise. That’s right! It’s not over yet. This is always my favorite part of the morning! We here at Blackout Corporate Events LLC are all blind professional trainers providing participants with realistic and powerful blindness experiences to promote empathy, team building, and thriving, diverse workplaces. Yes, yes, you got me. I did memorize a few things from the website, ha-ha.

Well, it’s that realistic part I want to focus in on now. See, blindness isn’t something you can just put on and take off like a blindfold—you can go ahead and take those off by the way. When someone becomes blind, they’re usually in it for the long haul. So wearing a blindfold for half an hour isn’t a very realistic experience.

What’s that, Mark? Oh no, the lights in this room are on actually. Well, that’s the surprise. You’re all blind now! That’s right. There were some chemicals in those blindfolds.

Now, now, don’t worry. It’s almost certainly not permanent. And I know, it’s a lot to take in. But nope, I’m sorry, I can’t take any questions right now. An authentic disability experience has to involve people telling you the things you care about most are not important. So, I’m gonna jump right into your blindness orientation.

Let me introduce you all to Gerald. He’s from the State Commission for the Blind. He’s in charge of teaching you blind life skills, getting you back in the workforce, and helping you learn how to live your new life. Gerald is a real nine-to-five guy. Checked out years ago. He doesn’t really care or know much about blind people, but the position opened up and he took it because almost no one ever gets fired. Well sometimes they do if they’re outright abusive to the blind people, but not if they’re just useless like Gerald.

He has a lot of technology he badly wants to train you on. Sorry, I meant he wants to train you on a lot of technology, badly. He also has four or five minimum wage jobs he can successfully prepare you for. He and his supervisors will be over the moon if 60% of you get a job. Boy that would be blowing right past those annual targets, huh, Gerald?

Susan, you have a question? Yes, that’s right, most of you do still have jobs with American Sky, for now anyway. We told them you’re blind, and most of your bosses are unsure if you can do your jobs anymore. I suspect you’ll all be on the job market soon enough. Stan, you’re fired. Sounded like they were already looking for a reason.

Sure, Mark, it’s illegal to fire you because of a disability. But I don’t think they need to worry about that. Do you know how you would do your job now? Right, well neither do judges or juries.

It should make you angry, Mark. Yes, I’m happy to hear others agreeing. The first hurdle in this exercise is acknowledging the anger you feel toward society. See where that takes you.

I have a few more things to cover before I turn the rest of this session, and your wellbeing for the next several years, over to Gerald.

Well, Susan, you shouldn’t say we can’t do this. We already did. Yes, somebody should do something about all this. But who? Now, Mark, there’s an idea! What can you all do together? Yes, very good. Assert your agency. Combine your efforts to build power as a group. My goodness, you all catch on fast.

Oh wow! Did one of you figure out how to get the screen reader working on your phone? And now you’re showing others how to do it. This is beautiful. Absolutely, one of you should call the authorities. A lawyer, uh-huh, that’s a good idea too.

Actually, Gerald, I’m not sure you should get started with your presentation. I can already hear them discussing the ways you are an institutional barrier to their thriving as blind people. I’ve never seen a group intuit that this early on. You can still present to the afternoon group though. Yeah, take an early lunch. Your favorite thing!

Okay, for those of you with significant others, we’ve let them know what happened. Most of them are considering leaving. Stan, Jenny’s gone. Sounded like she was already looking for a reason too. The court immediately gave her full custody. The judge said it sounded like the kids were already looking for a reason to leave. What’s going on with you, Stan?

Now what’s this? Stan, you’re presenting a list of demands from the group? Wow, way to step up. Maybe people have been underestimating you. Let’s see here, compensation, medical costs, proper vocational training, punitive damages—this is a really comprehensive list.

Yes, Susan, that’s right! It does feel good to band together. What else could we do? Anybody? A social media campaign against Blackout?! Stan, that’s brilliant! This could be a real turn-around for you, bud. If Jenny could see you now, huh?

Okay I can hear sirens outside so I only have so much longer with you. But yes, Mark, there is power in solidarity and collective action among disenfranchised people. You all are rocketing through the key learnings.

Good morning, officers. Yes, that’s me. I know I have the right to remain silent, but I’m still wrapping up here—oh, you’re moving fast with those cuffs.

Okay, well, to conclude quickly. I’m so proud of you all. Remember this, everyone. Remember this day. Today you discovered what blindness truly is. It is not merely a disorienting loss of sight, or a challenge to beat. It’s an opportunity. It’s a chance to find community, to find yourselves. To be creative, to struggle together and overcome oppression. To love and be alive! This! This too is blindness! And, as I’m physically dragged from this room by the police, I urge you to never let anyone tell you otherwise!

YOUR BLACKOUT TEAM BUILDING RETREAT T-SHIRTS ARE ON THE TABLE BY THE DOOR!

Realistic Blindness Simulation Exercises for Effective Corporate Team Building

Sy Hoekstra — Wed, 04 Feb 2026 18:02:24 GMT

In today’s episode:

- AN off-site nightmare

- Minor chemical terrorism

- A redemption arc

- Don’t forget the swag

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