Today I would like to return to your awareness an aspect of the Human condition that surrenders to a curious state called “normal.” Normal is a cultivated space, fashioned from how we see ourselves and how we’d like others to see us. It’s a weighted measure, balancing self-appraisal against the opinions and judgment of others. It is a dynamic state, subject to change depending on which way society pulls the levers on public opinion and the laws that govern social order. But most of all, normal is an assumed state of cooperation and expectation.
A scant sixty years ago, in the so-called “Bible belt” region of the Deep South, it was considered “normal” to require African Americans to sit in the back of a bus. One can therefore surmise that it must have taken an “abnormal” few to observe and recognize this as wrong. Those that voiced opposition were labeled sympathizers, resistors, agitators and radicals. And those were the nicer words. Of course now it is normal to honor these nonconformists for their courageous efforts in spear-heading the civil rights movement. So you see, “normal” is anything but what it claims to be.
In the following paragraphs we will reexamine the state of normal to see what purpose it serves, if any at all. What is normal now was not necessarily normal yesterday. And what is normal for you may not be normal for me. At any rate, normal is one of the dumbest terms to ever curse the planet. Normally I would not write on such a topic, but I thought I’d make this special exception. After all, it is normal for me to do the unexpected.
That’s what I think of normal. The term is a tool. Those who acquiesce to its narrow and ephemeral parameters might also be considered “tools.” Does one seek normalcy because they desire this brand of conformity? If so, then what is their more noble purpose? Is it to go on mirroring and repeating everything they have been told? This regurgitation is what some might call normal— but I call it being complacent and undiscovered. Surely all people have a novel vibration that they wish to share or at least discover within themselves. So why do they insist on merely towing the line and wearing blinders? One could persuasively argue they have little choice. The normal need to earn a living and bucking the system is not the way to do it. So they play along to get along— and many will surrender their hearts ambition for the lure of a paycheck.
Were you ever given the choice to see the world as you like? -Probably not. The world as we know it was engineered into our awareness from the moment we uttered our first words. Sad to think perhaps some will never know the feeling of abnormal. A good conformist would never entertain such dirty thoughts anyway. But on the contrary, to label someone as “normal” strikes me as offensive indeed. Normal tells me that one doesn’t really understand their unique place in this world. There is nothing normal about normal. Normal is a conformity stress that can skew and shape the best of us into docile, compliant and mindless little servants. It’s a dead end. There is no need to explore further once normalcy has been achieved.
Yes, we’re all encouraged to operate within templates of normalcy. We go to school, get married, buy a house and hope for normal kids. We work our normal jobs and attend church and maybe, if we’re lucky, we’ll have the time and means to take up something truly meaningful and normal— like golf. And just as we begin to get the ever-so slightest inkling of this elusive and artificial state called normal, it’s time for us to retire or to check out of this world all together. You see, on the eighteenth hole we may indeed start asking ourselves what sinking that put was really all about. And though one may take delight in saying they played under par, I can’t help but wonder if the ball somehow played the player and not the other way around. But I’ve digressed.
That which we regard as normal is anything but. The “normal” I see takes the form of an elaborate maze cut though a corn field. We’re not allowed to peak over the stalks because then we might realize it’s all just a game. That would ruin it for you and everyone else. And we’re not allowed to shuck an ear because we might realize the corn is too perfect to be in a natural or organic state. There is something profoundly disturbing about that which is too perfect in this land of normal.
Lies Taste Good
The term “normal” follows us everywhere we go. Our doctor might say our lab test results were normal. They might also say our blood pressure is normal. Well those are the words we want to hear. Normal is good. Abnormal is bad, very bad. I was once told I had abnormally high cholesterol levels and that it was likely a “genetic” anomaly. Surely I was a walking heart attack and I was only in my early twenties. Blood thinners were recommended as were statin drugs. A genetic anomaly indeed and so I thought to do some research.
Turns out I had elderly relatives with the same condition. They took nothing for it and yet they were otherwise healthy and in their eighties. And so I chose to take nothing for my condition. My basis for normal was therefore quite different than the medical assessment. I questioned the well-meaning entity with the white coat and germ laden stethoscope. That was not the normal thing for me to do. I did not take his advice. All these years later, I’m so happy I didn’t. The very latest research now shows higher cholesterol might actually be a good indicator, whereas very low cholesterol could be a serious cause for concern. I take zero medications. Is that normal?
The normal person’s modus of operandi is to never challenge the status-quo. Eat lies like they were made of candy. Believe what we are told about JFK, 9/11, GMO’s, flu vaccinations, fluoridated water and a whole host of other yummy little fictions. Do not ask about “false flag” invasions, chemtrails, printed paper currency, or whether the “Federal” Reserve is indeed federal. Ask not these questions. Remain in this insulated cocoon called normalcy and it will protect you. Step outside of normalcy and expect to be mowed down by flag waving, Bible thumping, hypnotized, zombified lynch mobs that would swear to you that they are the normal ones. Yes, they will call you a kook— or worse. After all, that’s what they called Rosa Parks, Dr. King and so many other prominent and benevolent people of great courage and strength. If this is what being a “kook” is all about then count me in. It’s the sort of company I’d like to keep anyway.
Then there’s the normal behavior thing. A schoolteacher might tell the parents of little Johnny or Amy that their child is behaving normally in class and has a healthy and normal attitude. You should be proud. Your child is normal. What! Why would I find this so disturbing? Did the school suck away the defining aspect that made this child unique as an individual? Perhaps I would ask the teacher if they would mind defining what is meant by normal. Then I would ask if Albert Einstein was normal, if perhaps Nikola Tesla was normal, if Mother Teresa was normal, if Mahatma Gandhi was normal, if Leonardo da Vinci was normal… and anyway I think I’ve made my point. So why would I want little Johnny or Amy to be your little normal? No thank you. Class dismissed!
I understand that some may think I’m taking this whole “normal” thing out of context. I assure you I am not. Unlike the more inert and discretionary term of “typical,” normal belies an acceptable assumption of truth or fact. When the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear power plant radiation levels were spiking during the early months of the tsunami disaster, governmental agencies were compelled to redefine what “normal” meant in terms of radiation exposure. Their solution was to simply raise the old level to a much higher one and called it safe. So now people in the Fukushima Prefecture could breathe a deep sigh of relief and relax after being told that radiation levels had been restored to normal. The “typical” readings were way off from where they had been, of course— but “normal” had been redefined to satisfy immediate concerns. Can you see why I don’t care much for that word?
Where Do We Go From Here?
There’s a road less traveled that beckons those who seek higher truth. It can be a lonely road indeed. The nonconformist takes the long way home and questions all things along the path. In doing so, they may often feel lost and vulnerable at times. But as their journey continues, they begin to acquire great wisdom. They will question all things synthetic in nature. They will question government and how it controls the masses. They will question organized religion and how it culls the population. They will question education and how is syncopates the minds of children. They will question mass media and its dubious exploitations. So where does the road go from here? -Simple. One must remain in a state of knowing. One must continue to question and yet still manage to live their lives with a smile on their face and with love in their heart.
One must allow “normal” people to see you in a proper light. One should be polite and courteous and lend a helping hand. If we are angry and overly-aggressive in our views, we’ll be relegated to that “kook” category of nonconformity. But for those who are highly principled and self-aware, they can usually articulate their views in an open and benevolent manner. Such people live by example. I’m a big fan of civility and the Gandhi-esque manner of peaceful noncompliance, love and tolerance. The most beautiful form of rebellion is to simply fold ones arms and say no. If people of all nations could muster their power and resolve to do this, there would never be another bullet fired upon another. Such a deplorable act would be considered grotesquely insane and absolutely inhuman. So there’s a glimpse of a “real” normal world as I see it. Seems we’ve got a ways to go to get there.
And so to the powers that (think you are) I want to say I am not your “normal” product; I do not believe in your NDAA. I do not believe in your Patriot Act. I do not believe in your torture and preemptive wars. I do not accept this as normal by any definition of the term. And so I say no! And I say it with authority and I say it with conviction. I am one person, but I’m awake and aware and that makes me powerful indeed. I am free to speak my mind and state my cause. I am not your minion. I possess free will and a free mind. I am not ensnared by your tainted vision of a new world order. And as testimony of the Divine, others are now waking from their slumber and are asking questions of a probing nature. I’ve come to this world to know peace— and so I do not accept the guns you hide behind your velvet curtains of deception.
I’m unable to digest this non-organic meatball called normal, so don’t wave it in front of me. What in the heck is rolled up in it anyway? One should think twice before putting that in their body. It pretends to be something it’s not. So what’s it all about? I sense that people have a hunch that they’ve been repeatedly lied to for a very long time. But try as they might, most just can’t quite get a grip on it. Meanwhile, the PTB keep throwing everything they’ve got at us with the hope of keeping us in some kind of a normalizing, mind swept stupor. -But why?
There are many who are feeling fearful or panicky for no obvious reason. Chronic fear turns into anxiety. Anxiety may turn into depression. Depression often turns into a doctor’s visit. The doctor’s visit turns into a prescription for an antidepressant. The antidepressant appears to help but soon more is needed. The doctor prescribes a second antidepressant to be taken along with the other. Soon additional meds are sought and delivered. They are “needed” so that one can deal with their depression along with a whole host of other medical issues that seem to be cropping up. Soon one can find themselves quite dependent on that normal person in the white coat who knows better than we do.
But here is what I have found to be true. It is not entirely correct to call it “their” depression. It is “our” depression. If our brothers and sisters are feeling depressed for no apparent reason, then I might suggest we reexamine what is called normal. Society is a seriously flawed, screwed-up, sad state of affairs that tries to pass itself off as normal. We consistently attempt to attune ourselves with this “normalized” societal standard because we’ve been trained to do so. But this creates an asymmetrical tension that can spawn a boat-load of psychological incongruities within—a sort of internal tug-of-war between what we know to be right and what society dictates as normal. So how does one manage this? Well, we can try taking the long way home.
About the Author
There is a certain obscurity that follows Julian Wash. After all, any writer that starts off with “Dear Humans” might be a little hard to nail down. We sense he’s benevolent, a little crazy and we think rather enjoyable to read. Email: firstname.lastname@example.org
**This article was originally published at The Rattle Report.**
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