Imagine, walking in a neighborhood of genius; and we happen to be not really a genius. They till see us as 'alien'. We, in the other hand, surely will see them as alien too.
We thought that nobody understands us and therefore we fell into deep depression. They, thought that we are some numbnuts who are trying to preach new culture.
Religion are built upon the culture of 'conformance'. It is a method of brainwash, rejecting any other thought, except the thought of being 'loyal', 'obedient', 'humble' and the utmost of all, 'unconditional submission' to the rule of the culture. The rules are unwritten, it is just a code of ethics mutually understood and transmitted through body languages and by indirect persuasion.
Individual who does not conform into the conformance is an alien to the culture and society. Black sheep of the family and an example of bad example. Since the rule of the game is 'majority wins', individuals which has conformance problem (according to the majority) will always loose (according to the majority).
However, in the eyes of the individual who has conformance problem, the majority is not a winner. The majority are just a bunch of idiots who are pushy. To keep his view is a continuous struggle as the majority struggles to push in their ideals and continuously attempts to 'correct' the view of the non-conformance ones. Some non-conformance thrive in this environment because of the richness of ideals to debate about. In most cases, the majority will choose not to engage in any intellectual conversation. They have no additional knowledge beyond their boundary.
Looking at it, both sides are non-conformance against each other, and both sides, by all definitions, conforms to their ideals. It is all perfectly harmonious. However, when any of them steps into the boundary of the other, and try to pull each other permanently into their territory, conflict grew and inharmonious they will become.
One good example is in the case of Multi Level Marketing's marketing concept. The 'seller' is pushing the ideal of being 'rich', 'achieving dream', 'successful', 'not being a failure', and so on to layman and normal people. But normal people have their own definition of those. And after these normal people lured and trapped into the concept and soon found out that it is just sweet talk and good word to force them to open their wallet, there normal people eventually revert back to their own ideals of being normal people. And when this happens, the MLM people accused these normal people as being 'lost focus'. Well, is it a 'lost focus' or is it that they realized that thats not their game?
Another good example is in the case of religion. In a community of similar faith, everybody are expected to follow the rules of conformance, none are to be different in anything, particularly in point of view. When one person have extra knowledge and that knowledge does not fit into the conformance, that one person is reckoned to be different, and also probably direct plain wrong. The rest of the community will push back the 'original' ideals into the mind of that one person until the community is satisfied. No one are deemed to be different in religion. In other words, conformance force smart people to be as dumb as them.
As usual, smart people choose NOT to submit to these conformance and choose to live they way they are. Enjoying life, and enjoy seeing others in trying to push their ideals into them.
Why I call it a disease? Because it spread through generations.
Tuesday, 24 August 2010
Wednesday, 4 August 2010
The Keymaker's Dilemma
In one fine town, there lives an old chap. His name is Smith. Everybody knows him. People in that town call him Lock Smith for his true talent of fixing rusty lock. Some of his good mates call him Rusty Smith, because he does smells rust at the end of the day when they sit down for a pint. Smith is an honest man, he is as honest as a donkey, his good old mates say. He didn't even fall for Mrs Lee's cry when she asked him to change her door lock, says another mates. Mrs Lee was some rich old lady who was trying to lock out her husband. Poor old Lee said Smith. He won't be dying in his bed for sure, he thought.
One day, while sitting on his nice confy chair at his balcony, watching the evening passes by, in coming in a rush a little boy, about 7, calling and crying. He was looking straight at Mr. Smith. With a very sad eye, with his left hand squeezing his right hand's thumb, he cried for help. "Please Mr. Smith", he cried. "You got to help my dad", he said.
The whole scene numbed Mr. Smith for a bit, my day should be over, he said in his heart. But what the heck, I'll help this innocent little boy he said. Very quickly he grab his tools and went to the boy. Without any words, the boy took Mr. Smith to his dad. At every corner that they pass by, the boy said "right over here Mr. Smith". Soon enough, they arrived at a bakery shop. Mr Smith looked around, and was puzzled with broken glass on the floor which he guessed came from a small window up on the wall. "Please be quick Mr Smith, my dad fell from the window to the other side" the little boy cried again. Mr. Smith can't help thinking what was happening there. So he asked. With sad eyes, the boy murmured that his dad was trying to get a cake he hid yesterday in that shop. It was for his little sister's birthday.
Mr. Smith paused for a while. He understood that the dad was trying to steal a cake for his daughter's birthday, but fell from the window and probably lying on the floor unconscious. Stealing, he said in his heart, is so wrong, he should go to jail for this he murmured. But this boy will be in trouble if the dad is not around. They are poor now, and what more will it become if the dad is gone, he ponder. Mr. Smith sat down, leaning against a wall, looking at the shop, the boy, the window. He has no trouble picking the door lock. He have done it many times for shop owners who forgot their keys.
The boy went to the broken glass, very carefully picked all the pieces and stack it by the wall. He took his shirt fold it square, he sweep the glass debris very carefully, pushing it near the wall. Probably the boy thought at least nobody get hurt if the glass is near the wall. Done that, the boy sat down underneath the window, just like what his dad wants him to do. Supposedly a short wait, he has been waiting for a very long while now.
If you are Mr. Smith. What will you do?
One day, while sitting on his nice confy chair at his balcony, watching the evening passes by, in coming in a rush a little boy, about 7, calling and crying. He was looking straight at Mr. Smith. With a very sad eye, with his left hand squeezing his right hand's thumb, he cried for help. "Please Mr. Smith", he cried. "You got to help my dad", he said.
The whole scene numbed Mr. Smith for a bit, my day should be over, he said in his heart. But what the heck, I'll help this innocent little boy he said. Very quickly he grab his tools and went to the boy. Without any words, the boy took Mr. Smith to his dad. At every corner that they pass by, the boy said "right over here Mr. Smith". Soon enough, they arrived at a bakery shop. Mr Smith looked around, and was puzzled with broken glass on the floor which he guessed came from a small window up on the wall. "Please be quick Mr Smith, my dad fell from the window to the other side" the little boy cried again. Mr. Smith can't help thinking what was happening there. So he asked. With sad eyes, the boy murmured that his dad was trying to get a cake he hid yesterday in that shop. It was for his little sister's birthday.
Mr. Smith paused for a while. He understood that the dad was trying to steal a cake for his daughter's birthday, but fell from the window and probably lying on the floor unconscious. Stealing, he said in his heart, is so wrong, he should go to jail for this he murmured. But this boy will be in trouble if the dad is not around. They are poor now, and what more will it become if the dad is gone, he ponder. Mr. Smith sat down, leaning against a wall, looking at the shop, the boy, the window. He has no trouble picking the door lock. He have done it many times for shop owners who forgot their keys.
The boy went to the broken glass, very carefully picked all the pieces and stack it by the wall. He took his shirt fold it square, he sweep the glass debris very carefully, pushing it near the wall. Probably the boy thought at least nobody get hurt if the glass is near the wall. Done that, the boy sat down underneath the window, just like what his dad wants him to do. Supposedly a short wait, he has been waiting for a very long while now.
If you are Mr. Smith. What will you do?
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