Like looking in a mirror
I don’t really watch all that much television – those who know me would probably identify my computer as my techno-drug of choice. Every once in a while, though, I find myself liking certain television series. Rarely do I enjoy shows for the premises or storylines; usually I find myself drawn to characters.
It is hard sometimes to put into words exactly how it is that I relate to some characters. Some strike me as people whom I would like to know. Others strike me as people who remind me of people I like. Some seem to embody the types of personal characteristics I find arrestingly attractive. Yet finding a character that seems to embody my own psyche is quite rare.
Until recently, I would have been hard pressed to name a television (or movie) character whose mind appeared to be wired similarly to my own. I would have had great difficulty, that is, until I watched a show on Fox the other day called ‘House.’
If ever there was someone who could be modeled after my own mind, it would be the character of Dr. Gregory House. His unbridled genius, his utter disdain for convention or tradition, his ardent empirical view, and his pessimistic and cynical nature all make for someone who reminds me of myself. It’s hard not to root for him, and I intimately recognize his genuine bafflement when everyone else around him seems not to be able to see the things which seem so obvious to him.
Today, I learned that the fictional character of Dr. House on the television series was based off of the fictional character of Sherlock Holmes. It all made sense to me.
I’ve never quite understood how most other people understand the world. The vast sea of humanity appears to think about things in one way, and a very small number of people (of which I count myself one) think about the world in a different way. I’m even unsure how to characterize people like me in words. We always seem to be able to understand each other when we meet each other, though, and we are just as united in the fact that other people rarely, if ever, understand us. Perhaps we approach mental problems from another tack, or have the courage and temerity to question the assumptions around which other people base their understandings of the world. Perhaps we have special insight that allows us to penetrate the confusion which hopelessly mires other people’s attempts to solve problems. Perhaps our freedom from convention, authority, or tradition for their own sakes allows us to realize that the solutions to problems were staring us in the face all along, had we only the strength of will to see them there.
Whatever it is that sets us apart, we few must band together. We have always been maligned, misunderstood, and persecuted. More importantly, history has proven that when our views conflicted with those of society at large, we have always been right.
I tip my hat to the man with the cane – a man who speaks for all of us whose minds dare to venture where angels fear to tread.
It is hard sometimes to put into words exactly how it is that I relate to some characters. Some strike me as people whom I would like to know. Others strike me as people who remind me of people I like. Some seem to embody the types of personal characteristics I find arrestingly attractive. Yet finding a character that seems to embody my own psyche is quite rare.
Until recently, I would have been hard pressed to name a television (or movie) character whose mind appeared to be wired similarly to my own. I would have had great difficulty, that is, until I watched a show on Fox the other day called ‘House.’
If ever there was someone who could be modeled after my own mind, it would be the character of Dr. Gregory House. His unbridled genius, his utter disdain for convention or tradition, his ardent empirical view, and his pessimistic and cynical nature all make for someone who reminds me of myself. It’s hard not to root for him, and I intimately recognize his genuine bafflement when everyone else around him seems not to be able to see the things which seem so obvious to him.
Today, I learned that the fictional character of Dr. House on the television series was based off of the fictional character of Sherlock Holmes. It all made sense to me.
I’ve never quite understood how most other people understand the world. The vast sea of humanity appears to think about things in one way, and a very small number of people (of which I count myself one) think about the world in a different way. I’m even unsure how to characterize people like me in words. We always seem to be able to understand each other when we meet each other, though, and we are just as united in the fact that other people rarely, if ever, understand us. Perhaps we approach mental problems from another tack, or have the courage and temerity to question the assumptions around which other people base their understandings of the world. Perhaps we have special insight that allows us to penetrate the confusion which hopelessly mires other people’s attempts to solve problems. Perhaps our freedom from convention, authority, or tradition for their own sakes allows us to realize that the solutions to problems were staring us in the face all along, had we only the strength of will to see them there.
Whatever it is that sets us apart, we few must band together. We have always been maligned, misunderstood, and persecuted. More importantly, history has proven that when our views conflicted with those of society at large, we have always been right.
I tip my hat to the man with the cane – a man who speaks for all of us whose minds dare to venture where angels fear to tread.
4 Comments:
"His unbridled genius, his utter disdain for convention or tradition, his ardent empirical view, and his pessimistic and cynical nature all make for someone who reminds me of myself."
I had no idea do you were a genius. I guess that explains your complete lack of social skills.
I’ve been on my spring recess from school, and apologize for my tardiness in replying to your comment, anonymous comment-leaver.
I’m going to reply to your answer in two ways because I can plausibly read your comment in two ways. The first way is the easiest to respond to. My first reading of your comment was to take it literally and without connotation.
I suppose I haven’t often referred to myself as a genius, but I’ve used a plethora of other terms that might lead someone to believe that I was. If you truly had no idea that I was a genius, then there are two things to say. First, you should feel better. No day in which you learn something about the world in which you live is a wasted day – even if what you learn is a triviality about the status of someone else’s mind. Second, let me point out that I am indeed a genius. Most psychological studies tend to operationalize a definition, but generally use an IQ benchmark to find geniuses. This cutoff point is usually somewhere between 130 and 150.
(If you aren’t sure how IQ tests work, let me explain: Everyone is supposed to be given the same test, and the average person answering receives a score of 100, meaning that they have the mental faculties equivalent to the average person. Someone with an IQ of 65 only has 65% of the mental ability of someone whose IQ is 100. Someone whose IQ is 130 has 130% of the mental ability of an average person. They plot it all out on a standard bell curve showing the answers, and only the top fraction is considered to be ‘genius’ level intelligence).
With an IQ of over 150, I fall within that narrow set of the population. I have exhibited the onset of early giftedness. I was encouraged to skip a grade when I was small (though my parents thought I might be traumatized by moving around that way). In high school, I was named one of the top 12 young scientific minds in Kansas by a University. I am qualified, though have not sought, a membership in MENSA. I had an ACT composite of 35, and without taking courses, using preparation books, or even knowing what the test consisted of before sitting down in the examination room, I got a 168 on my LSAT. I do think I qualify to call myself a genius, and I think the evidence supports me on this one. If you disagree, I urge you to suggest evidence indicating the contrary.
I must disagree with your premise that I somehow have a “complete lack of social skills.” Despite my melodrama indicating how much everyone hates me, typically I’m thinking of a small subsection of the people I know and a small percentage of my overall human relationships. To suggest that those are a representative sample would strain credulity and should cause immediate doubt in anyone with an iota of critical thinking skills.
Most of my relationships are healthy. It’s just that I don’t tend to write about them here, since when they are healthy, I’m not thinking about them and don’t write about them. I have several good friends, keep in contact with many of my old friends, have decent relationships with my family (although some members of my family I like more than others), and hell, I even have a girl who seems interested in dating me (I just wish that I wasn’t going to be leaving her in a few months).
The second way to read your comment is the way that seems most plausible to me. It can be read in a voice filled with sarcasm, and, if read that way, it is filled with derision and scorn. This is the way in which I read the comment most naturally, so my apologies if I am misreading it. If you intended it as the more literal descriptive, non-connotative language, see my above response.
In my writings in this forum, I have striven to be even-handed and fair. I have allowed space for others to comment on my writings if the mood struck them to do so, and encouraged people to engage in reasonable discussion of ideas they read here (or of their own related ideas). I welcome all such fruitful dialogue in this forum and fervently wish that there could be more of it.
Over the past year or so, I have noticed a generally downward trend in the nature of comments left in this forum. While some examples shine out as being good comments which can spark discussion and result in the interchange of understandings or ideas (see “Jerome, Nathan, and Anencephaly” from Tuesday, March 28, 2006, or “Whoever said we aren’t in the foxholes obviously never looked for us there” from Tuesday, August 22, 2006), a large number of comments appear to have absolutely no fruitful purpose. These comments appear to only advance the cause of insulting me for other individuals’ personal enjoyment or entertainment.
I do not take kindly to such comments left by people. I find them utterly without consideration. They are rude, discourteous, and malignant. Individuals leaving such comments should be ashamed of their conduct in this regard.
Adults behave in one particular way, and children in a decidedly differing fashion. When a child has a problem with something, they sulk or lash out at the person who has hurt them. Adults are supposed to be able to lay aside their strong emotions and come to a negotiating table where they can discuss their objections with each other and come to a mutual understanding of what happened, why, how, and what is to be done about it.
In my own writing, when I have believed that I have been insulted, slighted, or maligned, I have attempted to be adult about such situations and have laid out my own positions, carefully explained what I thought about what happened, and allowed other people to respond in kind. I have not always been adult about some situations, and in those situations, I have felt properly ashamed of my actions, and genuinely repented of them, offering sincere apologies to the parties I have wronged. I have attempted to be courteous to visitors to my website (which I do not advertise to outsiders). I have been praiseful of people whom I respect, and have attempted to highlight the weaknesses of my positions and person more than expose similar weaknesses in others.
Despite being what I feel to be more than fair and courteous, this courtesy is rarely returned. People have told me that I ought to get drunk, since people couldn’t stand to be around me otherwise. My views have been ridiculed (I don’t mind if someone disagrees and presents opposing arguments for an alternate view, but that’s substantially different from ridicule). People have accused me of being too judgmental, despite offering no objection to my analysis that led me to a particular conclusion. My character has been impugned with charges that I’m unoriginal. I’ve been lumped together with immoral terrorist organizations. My sexuality has been questioned. I have been accused of being of so low moral character as to desire unhappiness for my friends. I have been alleged to be a liar. People have asserted in a blanket fashion that I am wrong but have failed to provide any reason for their conclusion. When I’ve provided answers for their objections, those answers are asserted to be wrong, even while it is admitted that those very answers hadn’t really been read in their entirety. I answer each question posed to me and (depending on when I notice it) do so in a roughly timely fashion, but rarely get responses when I request answers.
To be perfectly honest, I’m starting to become more than a little tired with the amount of verbal sniping which takes place on these pages, particularly since I have shown remarkable restraint in returning fire. It bothers me that people feel that it is not only tolerable, but acceptable, to engage in unjustified character assassination and muckraking. It is not adult. It is not proper. It is immoral.
I have no desire to moderate comments on this forum. Providing a place for people to discuss ideas (whether they agree or disagree with them) is central to the entire process of learning. Censorship in any form frequently can lead to abuses of the power to censor. It is my desire and hope that any individual considering leaving a comment in this forum in the future reconsider whether leaving comments designed for no other purpose than character assassination is appropriate for either this forum or for adults.
Like yourself, I too am a fan of the program House. While not finding a sense of connection between the show's focus and myself as you have, I still can understand your statement. I would say, though, this should not be considered lauditory. While Dr. House is a genius and can be misunderstood, he is also a very emtionally damaged and isolated man. It is not a situation he desires. Instead it seems to be a protective mechanism. Next time you watch the program, remember: it's fiction and House is a classic character, misunderstood but also isolated by his own means.
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