Here it is, human rights are not fundamentally this or that
or even existent at all. Does this mean
they can’t be violated? Is it okay to do a little ethnic cleansing here and
there? What if we just put entire families into labor camps? How about we create
a system that poisons and isolates all of us? So can I just go murder all my
political opponents? Maybe, if we’re
talking about some specific cases in pre-industrial societies, but, no. Not
nowadays.
Maybe
back then, your “house” was how you identified yourself. I’m the blacksmith for
Jones’ Manor or the weaver for the House of Smith. It was an “Other Self”
besides the naked organismic individual. It’s a symbol for the “greater good”
or a reward for all this damn suffering.
For some, “Other Selves” can be political ideology, religious belief,
family, scientific analysis, altruism, human progress, the list goes on. It probably includes mass hysteria, Beatle
Mania, Hulk Mania, and Tasmania.
Imagine
a normal person. Imagine that he’s exploring his “Other Self”. Imagine he
decides he doesn’t identify with any of the existing systems, ever. As Ron White’s grandfather opined on his
redneck comedian grandson’s work ethic, “He’s got a lot of quit in him.”
So I’m
supposed to let the ego die. I’ve been practicing. Have you ever met somebody
who offered herself to you immediately and completely and unflinchingly. Did it
make you feel “icky”? Did it feel desperate and clingy? Were you not aware
enough to process it? I wonder if I’ll have enough money. I wonder if I’ll get
enough connection. I wonder if my trees will grow. I wonder why that one kid
always wants attention.
As a
stay at home dad, my “Other Self” was my family. As a scientist and teacher, it
was science. As a community educator, there were two: the biosphere and the
community. It’s hard to preach recycling to kids that are hungry and
understimulated. It’s hard to connect the biosphere to the community when
nature feels “icky” to most of us. Motivating ourselves to walk through clingy
vines in the woods is real work.
One
lesson might be to think like the desperate naked organism. A smart one though.
What’s missing on my hierarchy of needs? Maslow’s hierarchy: Level 1: Is my
body okay? Do I feel okay? Level 2: Is
my group safe? Is my position in that group secure? Level 3: Can I be weird
now? Is it safe to tell dirty jokes now? Can I expose myself? This is how I
process it, at least.
When I
was in elementary school, the teachers would force the kids to write a list of
nice adjectives about each other. I racked my brain to try to compliment the
innocent 2nd graders. I knew the assignment was some sort of double
bind. I scrawled some insincere nothings and went about my day. When I got the assignments about me, I was
pretty eager to look at all the validation for how smart and mature I was.
Nope. One word. On everybody’s paper. The word that described me was “weird”.
As an adult, I’m expecting to recall some sadness or something, after all,
“weird” implies “against the group”. If I’m “against the group” surely they’re
against me, right? Wrong. I knew it then, and I’d do well to remember it now,
“weird” is what you get called when you’re admired for who you are not for how
you represent the group.
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