Hollywood usually screws up the diagnosis of schizophrenia by confusing it with multiple personality disorder (to wit: ‘Me, Myself and Irene’). They are not the same diagnoses. Multiple personality disorder is exactly what it says it is: entertaining multiple personalities.
Schizophrenia, however – is a much more interesting proposition. My favorite interpretation of schizophrenia (and I have no clue where I got this from [but I’m pretty sure that someone older and much wiser than myself suggested it to me]) is:
A schizophrenic does not discern a difference between what goes on in his/her head and what s/he makes of observable reality.
In effect, what goes on in the mind — is the same as what goes on in the world we all share together. And this is what American capitalism and the commercializing of the American Dream has done to us over the past 5-decades-or-so: turned us all into schizophrenics: where the blurring of fantasy and reality has become so complete – that we all participate in this massive hallucination where we think we live in a democracy (and it’s really been a ‘police state’ for God knows how long); and, that there can be no other way than the American Way. World football champions? World Series baseball champions?? World basketball champions??? Come on, puhleeeeese give me a break!
I had to remind Brother Paul over-the-weekend that he (Brother Paul) has a vastly superior education than Rush Limbaugh, and, why would he (Brother Paul) bother to listen to the rantings of a college dropout (unless education counts for nothing). I think that somebody with a superior intellect called Rush a “big, fat idiot.” Now this makes a great deal of sense to this Ph.D. An then put this big, fat idiot, college drop-out on pharmaceuticals (and God knows what else) – and we have a recipe for schizophrenic ludicrousness in immeasurable proportions (that people, like Brother Paul, listen to)..
I know that I’ve vented about the soccer referees my sons have been subjected to over the seasons – but these zebras, too – seem to be part of our schizophrenic landscape. Just this weekend I watched youngest son, Austen, trip a player twice his size and weight – a player who had been having his way knocking Austen’s team-mates on their keisters – and one trip by Austen earned him a yellow card. Yet in the subsequent game, an opposing player had to deck three of our players with elbows to the head (usually on headers) to finally earn a warning??!! Granted, it was a different referee…
Which brings me to my point: the center no longer holds, and the falcons are so far from the falconer – that things are falling apart in the U.S. as never before. It’s anything goes, Baby! And, how much justice can YOU buy?! Can we EVER be reigned in? Can the falcon ever come back to sit on the gloved hand? I have no idea. Stay tuned, and, meanwhile – duck when you see the boyz in trenchcoats.