Right Planet: Wrong Culture, Wrong Time? / New thoughts on Human “X”

“Wrong Planet” as an expression that sums up the experience of individuals of many descriptions is quite accurate in one way; it applies to what it feels like for “one of us” * when we are surrounded by, embedded in, trapped within, what one friend calls “Normdom”. I like this term because it relates to Kingdom – that geopolitical social reality that we are all familiar with; a territory staked out, bounded by walls and rules and a way of being in the world; an island of human creation that tends to see itself as complete. A model of correct, cosmic accuracy; a state of mind and belonging that must be defended at all costs. It is, by necessity enclosed: everything “out there” is a threat; nature and other humans alike.

*(the official social labels, whether applied by bullies or “experts” are simply inaccurate)

The mistake in Wrong Planet is that it’s “our planet” too; the adjective “wrong” is apt, but it modifies the wrong noun. It’s a word problem again; words are generalizations, not things; words project human ideas and desires that can be far reaching, influencing and controlling the beliefs and behavior of humans. Wrong Planet gives sovereignty of “earth” to an imaginary Kingdom of Normal Humans, leaving no place for “others” at all.

“Wrong Planet” abdicates any right for “us” to exist. In my own experience of existence, I’m obviously not on the wrong planet. I am inseparable from the same physical phenomenon and evolutionary processes that have unfolded as the array of “life” on earth – from viruses, bacteria and one-celled plants, which exist “now” to the incomprehensible complexity of “composite” life forms that exist “now”.

All my life I observed and intuited, sensed and felt, that indeed, something was terribly “wrong” – with me. The “world” did not greet me with loving approval; with open arms, support and understanding. My own mother complained constantly, claiming that I rejected her; an impossibility for a life-and-death dependent infant. That “like my father” I was incapable of love. Love – that horribly unfair word. Love was not a wonder to be discovered; love was a Kingdom bounded by a wall of ungenerous restrictions. It was not something that grew out of true intimacy, but which was “owned” by certain persons – parceled out, withheld, or given – but with chains of obligation that characterize a prison. It was like being a dog lured into a crate by “treats” – and the door slammed and locked behind.

Children “believe” what they see; other children were praised for mysterious reasons. It sounded like, “See – why can’t you be a good dog like Susie?” There was such finality to adult judgements. It was like being a sea creature lured by the image of a world above the waves; beautiful, sun-filled, and promising abundance, but the price of curiosity was death. Hooks and lines, spears and nets; words, words, words.

But I had my own words:

An imaginary landscape called BLUE / clips                                  

There is a lake which stands inside me, with a muddy bottom that reaches to my knees. When I am quiet, the water is deep blue green and I can feel the striped fishes as they move between my ribs. Sunlight that filters through my eyes catches their golden tails that wave among the grasses; the long, long grasses held in the muddy bottom. It is hypnotic, this watery trance. Peaceful green waters overflow my head, become transparent and ordinary, like tap water. Is this eternity, a thought that is thought, never to be in-thought?

“I have been the blue road, my life a dream that played while I walked to this place, to the lake where life began. I have come to undo the ties and laces of someone else’s shoes. Big, ugly shoes they were and not my size. Muddy boot prints mark the water line, deep from the weight I bore.”

“The sun is everywhere the same sun; a sweet wind raises my hair as moving midnight water becomes the oxygen mist. Nothing yet flies nor walks: jelly phantoms form in the water then lose cohesion, waiting for the thought that has yet to think the order of cartilage and muscle.”

“Back in the blue on a Midwestern Sunday. This isn’t a blue place. It’s sharp, hard, green and black. Someone burns leaves today, and smoke drifts across the lawn where a great puff silhouettes the fir trees for a moment. Never will I become gray and quiet like these trees. I am the endless blue west whose extremes embrace me like a cousin.”

“The Blue” was of course, the unconscious intuitive domain of the brain; a way of perceiving the environment that was inborn, but censured as an “escape from reality” –  reality being Normdom. This intuitive dimension was presented to me by teachers and “knowing” adults, who felt obligated to let me know, that being free and happy was a delusion; a form of cheating. Imprisonment is human destiny. Someone said this long ago, laid down the rules, and all humanity believed it. I simply didn’t. This was heresy. It still is.

I am not on the Wrong Planet; I am in the Wrong Culture. Is there any “right” culture? I doubt it. What I have learned is that my sensory system, type of processing and perception, are so fundamental to my personality and psychology, that I may as well be a different “cultural species” – call us Homo X. I observe that many “normal” people are in a similar predicament, but they are better able to adapt their thoughts and behavior “close enough” to be allowed to live in Normdom – not necessarily with  optimal results for them, but “exile” is a great fear in our species; so much so that prison looks good.

I had been exiled from “approved humanity” from the beginning of my life; what threat could “exile” pose? It turned out to be Hell.

One salient characteristic of our Homo sapiens is a restless, seeking-after of new places to set up Kingdoms; to vow to found a new Kingdom that offers freedom of movement, expression, discovery and equality. We pick a place: the walls go up, the rules are set. Even if “better” than the old rules, time is the enemy. The hierarchy springs up out of necessity; magic words cement the deal.

And here is where I see the gulf between “people like me” and Normdom. The  experience of time. Time is not a structure of past-present-future; this is a “chosen” tool for organizing human ambition by technical means, the ambition being a final, universal “Normdom”. A place of security; a defined space-time that can be preserved for “eternity” – what is wanted is a limit on “thought” that conquers fear. A Kingdom of “Stasis” – one last incarnation of control over chaos.

Why do I say this? Because Armageddon – total destruction – is the projected “end” of the universe. This is ridiculous. Our personal fear is so outrageous, that we believe that the end of “Normdom” must take all of reality with it. Normdom IS the universe for “normal people”. Clocks – the “measurement of time” by mechanics, electronics, atomic  decay; schedules, gadgets, “connections”, instant data, truly mind-blowing technologies – cannot build a wall around the universe. We imagine that attributing evidence for “time, the linear thing” in eternal phenomenon is valid.

One consequence of this is the “magical” assumption that cause and effect is proximal; coincidence is a “good enough” explanation for relationships that are actually manifestations of “eternal principles and patterns” – mathematical equations.

Observe theoretical physics: We are frightened and concerned (even indignant!) that the universe has been found to be expanding, despite our wishes; that the rate of expansion is increasing. How will we ever build a wall around an ever-expanding universe? “Time” to build another “detector”; to invent new theories, to find refuge in  “missing energy and matter” that if found, will reassure us that we haven’t lost control. One final Kingdom of Theories…

The last gasp of Normdom may be the “final solution”: artificial intelligence, robots and “technical immortality”.

Not gonna happen. For those of us who live out here on the “edges” it’s a different experience. Not Wrong Planet, Wrong Universe, Wrong Brain, Wrong Behavior, Wrong Reality but, arguably, Wrong Time. Many “Homo X” are comfortable living with animals; we live in their reality: moment to moment. That’s where the action is. That’s where danger and safety co-exist.

Some other posts about “time” – an evolving topic. .





Little Kingdoms everywhere…




One thought on “Right Planet: Wrong Culture, Wrong Time? / New thoughts on Human “X”

  1. “The nature of the Autist” (ch3b, treatise on the nature of normies),

    By now, it should be obvious that there are two chief classes of people: those who are of Normalistic mind, and those who are not – with diagnosable psychopaths as the Acme of Normal1, and all Normalistic beings who are less that way being of both diluted Archetype-patterned instincts, and of diluted psychopathic thought and behavior.

    Those of Normalistic mind have been described, or at least, the attempt to describe their Archetypal notions has been made. But what of them who are not Archetypal? Those who do not act by Normalistic Instinct because they lack the capacity? Can they be described beyond that Normie-projected notion of ‘the chief manifested evil in all of nature?

    This made for a horrible notion in the mind of the writer: what if he, and those like him, were also ‘ambulatory black holes’ – things that were, in truth, altogether fully as bad as the propaganda spoken against his kind?

    If the nature of being Normal is to have layers-upon-layers of Social Masks – then what is it truly like to be autistic? At first, I wondered if I was a formless species of darkness – until that notion was summarily erased and vanished as if a switch had been turned.

    The first portion I saw was a jungle. This place was green, filled entirely with life, all the varied colors of glorious green dappled here and there by sunlight, rivers running slow and near-noiseless, rocks, animals… the initial – no, the superficial aspect – was that of chaos.

    The reality then abruptly intruded: this was an orderly jungle – a place where everything worked in harmony, so as to achieve a given task. Its order then began to manifest, as its seeming of chaos melted away to show rows and ranks of objects – neat, tidy, of a seeming system – all of them with their uses, each with its purpose.

    They are understood by their purpose, their use, and not their seeming; and if the individual autist might not understand that purpose and use upon becoming aware of each such thing, it is likely that one day he or she will comprehend what each such thing has to be comprehended.

    The autist is literal. All matter within his or her mind has its picture, its name, its numbered way and meaning; and the matter of ‘symbol’ – a chief tenet of Normalism – must be emulated by sustained and intensive effort. Each such ‘symbol’ is represented by its multidimensional image, a matter that is found within and stated without – and superficiality is neither wished for nor truly comprehended when one is autistic.

    There is nothing resembling a black hole in an autist. There is no ‘numbness’, no creeping death; everything is shockingly alive and altogether real. As such, reality exists independent of any and all attempts to comprehend it, and hence the phrase ‘I do not know’ is nothing but the truth, should it be spoken or writ; it is not a deceptive smokescreen intended to achieve higher levels of Social Dominance.

    In contrast, Normalistic beings deny both reality and uncertainty, for those things are the chiefest enemies of Confidence; and as Confidence is an integral part of deception – its forerunner, if you will – then those who lack it are hard put to do deception.

    There is a yet-greater matter, though: those who think in pictures have reality embedded in those same pictures; hence deception – and all things that are related to it – is vastly harder to do. More importantly, deception – and all of the other instinct-driven thoughts and behaviors found within that instinctual stratum named ‘Social Necessity’ – are unthinkable.

    The autist is named ‘rude’ and ‘crude’ due to this especial lack, but its2 chiefest trouble in a Normalistic instinct-driven world is the fact that it is not Archetypal – and hence is named and treated as not-human, and named as being an Object – a tool, a source of trouble, a meal, and a target for sadism.

    To Be, or to not Be – there is no question. Not within the minds of those possessing the Archetype. They have the single answer to all possibilities, and for all people; and that answer is Power.

    1This is why psychopaths are often described as being ‘More Normal than Normal’; it is simply because they are that way.

    2They name us objects, hence the neuter term here.

    Liked by 1 person

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