There is no dark side of the moon, really. Matter of fact, it’s all dark. ~ Pink Floyd
Name me a Boomer in my cohort who doesn’t love Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon album. Maybe there are some, but I’m not one of them. The songs on this LP speak to me of my college days, of love beads and peace symbols and heavy music.
But the album is really about madness. Insanity.
No, not depression or garden-variety stuff. I’m taking dark stuff. Dark matter.
It’s there and we don’t have to look too far to find it. We just have to be aware.
That kind of awareness isn’t a natural state.
Now here’s the fact: I have a pretty broad tolerance for aberrance. I find it interesting. And normal, even. Yeah, I know, that sounds like a contradiction.
But that’s how I see it. I’ve always found the norm kind of–boring. Vanilla.
Abnormal is not a word I relate well to.
At the same time, I think I appreciate deviance from the norm in a normal way. As in, I don’t thing there’s anything warped about it.
It turns out, though, that many people who think/act a few standard deviations from the norm really do have deep-seated problems
and their deviance is not so much thinking outside the box as it is a pathological response to a sort of insanity.
Madness, in a way.
From time to time, personally destructive insanity bursts through my door and makes itself known. My eyes widen, I recoil, shocked to the core, because all along I’d viewed it as just a simple divergence from the norm.
Once the black hole of pathology makes itself known there’s no going back. I can never look at that person the same way.
I like my view of different thinking and I’m going to keep it.
But you can bet that, in the immortal words of another rocker, Bruce Springsteen, I’ll be keeping that darkness on the edge of town. Way out and away from me.
Because it ain’t normal.