Tuesday, January 17, 2023

The Non-Conformist's Delusion

People spend their lives conforming. Often, they strive to do so ("keeping up" is a form of conformity). Some fraction of their attention and energy constantly channels into conforming - or gauging their degree of conformity.

Much of this is subconscious, but, either way, a chunk of their sense of accomplishment and security derives from having achieved conformity.

Then some nonconformist shows up, expecting to be not just tolerated but welcomed. Respected for the irritation s/he individually and uniquely supplies, and admired for blithely disregarding the overarching process in which everyone else has a huge psychic and social stake.

This is the non-conformist's delusion, and even a lifetime of poor reaction can’t quite cure it. It’s a monumental clash of very different framings. Two movies co-projecting as incompatibly as oil and water. At best, the non-conformist will be nervously tolerated. At worst, there will be a crucifixion. 

There is, however, an exception. A loophole, breeding confusion on both sides: Non-conformists on TV are awesome. Or in movies...or stories...or on stage performing...or generally doing some eye-catching thing at a safe, well-contained remove.

In such artificial and heightened settings, non-conformists may be celebrated (especially if they conform to current "nonconformity" expectations). However, that still doesn't make them personally palatable (it's one of the uglier streams feeding the "never meet your heroes" trope).

The nation that found Paul Lynde hilarious on Hollywood Squares in the 70s would have been prone to bashing his teeth in if he ever made a saucy remark to their faces in real life. And the kings of yore kept a clown - i.e. court jester - on staff, the only one permitted to speak truth to power, at the steep expense of donning the most undignified and denatured of personas. Outcasts enjoy certain heady freedoms, but can never be embraced. It’s been a source of frustration since forever.


Minorities find themselves thrust into nonconformist status by virtue of petty and superficial visual differences (taxonomy is our shallowest faculty). Don't imagine racists wouldn’t adulate a Michael Jordan or Tiger Woods, though they’d scream bloody murder if either dated their daughter.


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