i just know it's true

the darkness of the night has fallen upon the buildings outside. inside the artificial sun has just risen. it is artificial because it pulls no one toward it. no one except the moths, who choose to be fooled. no gravitational pull. no attraction. not like the real sun outside. on a sunny day, you feel yourself turn your head toward the sun. like the flowers, the plants, the cat lazing on his back in the midday sun, you raise you neck and close your eyes and turn your face to bask in its warm light. this doesnt happen with the artificial sun that keeps us up all the night. an artificial sun, so we may ignore the beauty of the moon. the mystery of the stars. and the noise. it seems that one forever must have some noise about oneself. as soon as the tv is off, the radio comes on. even your laptop makes sounds. the keys clicking, the motor whirring. and all around the muffled voices of your neighbours. people whose lives are playing out so close to your own. whose daily habits you learn to expect, without ever knowing their faces. you know how your neighbour screams at his wife, but you could have passed him in the parking lot, and his would have been just another one of the empty faces you choose not to see. choose to ignore. or perhaps choose is the wrong word. have no reason to notice. an old man swayed on the sidewalk the other day. whether he was drunk, or just so old that he couldn't walk straight, i don't know. the crowds pushed around him, anxious to cross the road. your first instinct was to shirk away from him. as if you might catch something off of his unwashed clothes, his matted hair. as i crossed the street, i stopped and turned. maybe a moment of humaness, if that's even a word. but no, i looked at him, i turned and i kept going. he was just another homeless man. he must be alright, must be just another homeless person. nothing on the television said that there was a homemore man who died of a heart attack on the side of the road while pedestrians walked around him. because nowadays we use the tv to tell us whats happening in the world we exist in. hurry home from our walk in the park, so we won't miss the programme about the leaves falling from the trees. things are only real if they're shown through a square. try it. try cupping your fist into a cylinder and looking at the world through it. for some reason, it feels more real. why? i don't know. i just know it's true.

a rant and a rave...

At the very high risk of sounding materialistic and vain, which I strive not to be, allow me to get these rants off my chest

I hate the fact that I can't get a manicure/pedicure here because I know from experience that if I do, I'm just going to be pissed off because the standards are so low, and frankly a monkey could do a better job.

I hate the fact that I can't get my hair done, because simply the hairdressers in Ireland are nothing but sorry excuses who get annoyed if you say you don't like what they've done. Sitting there with what resembles a birds nest on the top of your head, and if you dare to say anything other than "lovely" your life as you know it is as good as over. Why do you think I always come back looking like I've fought a war?

I hate the fact that the beauticians don't know how to wax properly. That they don't know the difference between waxing, and breaking the hair at the skin. That they wax where you DON'T have hair, which any sane person knows just encourages more hair to grow.

I hate the fact that the masseuse's massage you like you're going to break. That they don't understand the fundamental concept of massaging...that is, work out the knots. Instead, they simply give the mandatory little rub to all parts of your back, call it a massage and charge you 50 euro.

Finally, I hate the fact that as well as looking after a house, paying bills, buying food, cooking, cleaning, trying to study, bringing up a cat who spends the nights awake and currently eats about twice his weight in food a day, worrying about a sister who doesn't need me to worry but for whom I can do nothing else, and crashing my car, I have to be my own beautician, hairdresser and manicurist. Mostly, I hate the fact that most of the time, I feel like a complete and utter failure in all the above aspects of my life. I think I hate that most of all.

Letter To America From Iran

I'll tell you this much...but Mahmood Ahmadi-Najad is the only one who seems to be talking sense in this God Forsaken world of ours.

CLICK HERE TO READ THE LETTER FROM MAHMOOD AHMADI-NAJAD TO GEORGE W BUSH

Apparently, George W Bush has refused to even acknowledge this letter, let alone answer it. Why?
Because for once someone is standing up to America's policies?
Because for once someone is strong enough to stand up to America and say, even though you are powerful, even though you are rich, even though every other country is scared of you, WE are not scared of you. We will NOT tolerate the way you treat the rest of the world. We will NOT STAND for being subjected to DOUBLE STANDARDS. We will not stand by and watch you ruin the world for the sake of your greed.

Probably. You see, sometimes, if you ignore something...it might just go away.
Not this time Bush..I really really hope.
Read the letter. How can you make up your minds if you don't know what both sides have to say? Click on the link, and read it.

honey in the matrix

if taunted, the honeybee will strike. but what motivates this suicidal tendency? does he know that with this sting, his life will end? does he know? does he weigh up the options carefully before launching the attack? is it rage that propels him? is it fear? does the honeybee take a vow of allegiance to his hive...to protect the queen, to protect their stock? is his life only as important as the protection it affords his community? or do you think he knows nothing of the consequences of this act? they say ignorance is bliss..did nature bless this creature with the ignorance that allows him to deliver this deadly prick? was it a kind allowance on the part of mother nature, or her idea of a cruel joke?
i was in a car accident today. you know what they say about things going in slow motion? its true. and yet, its more of a slow motion in retrospect. they say love at first sight happens only in retrospect. well the shock of a car accident rears its head only in retrospect. its shocking. ive been in shock all day. i keep replaying it in my mind, and thinking...if only i had been a second earlier. or a second later. if only.. if only.
should've, would've, could've. i hate it when people use those words. i know someone who constantly uses those words. the people who wait for life to happen to them. who sit back in a comfortable chair, wait all day, and as the sun goes down, wonders that perhaps, they should've got up and done something, and if they would've done so, perhaps they could've achieved the one thing they wanted to happen. they could've lived. life doesnt come to you. its there. take it or leave it. what did he say in teh matrix again? "how can you have time, if you don't take time?" and how true that is.

Mr. Time Waster Himself

It never ceases to amaze me, coming up to exams, how amazingly talented most people are at NOT studying. Apparently, for many college students, sitting in the library can be equated with studying in the library. Of course, I'm really not one to talk as, in times of need, I can be extremely inventive when it comes to finding ways of not hitting the books. Trying to study at home for me is a lost cause because, for some unknown reason, it suddenly becomes so incredibly important to do something as trivial as my washing! I mean there could be nothing in the bottom of the laundry bag but a pair of socks, but I will make it my business to FIND other things, ANY other things, that could be washed. For reasons beyond my control, hygiene seems to become a much more serious issue coming up to exams. So, it appears, does dusting, polishing, vaccuming, and sorting my cd's into order both alphabetically and chronologically. Of course, it takes a few hours to realise that just might be impossible...but not to worry, because by that stage its time to start cooking dinner. And as everyone knows, you should give yourself plenty of time to cook your standard 5 course evening meal. Sure I do this every day of the year!

Today, while sitting in the library, and actually studying might I add (because I am a mature, level headed, graduate now)..I was lucky enough to come back from the bathroom to find that Mr. Time Waster himself had taken up residence in the chair next to mine. It was an interesting few hours I must say, because I do believe that I have found the one person who just might be able to beat my friend Richard at wasting time!

He started out motivated enough. Highlighter pen at the ready. Photocopied article in front of him. Bent over the desk, furiously highlighting what seemed to me to be every single word on the page. Apparently though this seemed to be requiring him to expend more energy than his bowl of weetabix had given him, and after 5 mins or so, he laid the highlighter down and stretched. The sort of stretch you'd do after a 5 mile run, or a 5 hour exam...or seemingly a 5 minute highlighting session. Whoever said highlighting isn't a sport should talk to Mr. TW!
Time for a break evidently. And after a half hour chat with a friend of his, who I presume was also "studying" for the day, Mr. TW disappeared for a good hour only to return with a bottle of Sunny D and a box of revels. After spending an unnecessarily long time opening the box of revels, and sipping from his Sunny D, Mr. TW decided a spot of textual socialising was in order...proceeding to send texts to what seemed to be every single person in his phone book. *Sigh* job well done. Crisis averted. He found out what to put on that massive spot on his nose. Now it was time for a nap. So he lay his head on the table, on top of his highlighted article, and dozed off for 15 minutes or so. Nothing too long mind you. Not at all! Just a power nap! Sure, Margaret Thatcher SURVIVED on them! Just a little kip to keep the overactive brain cells on their toes. Everyone knows that an alert and keen mind is EXACTLY what is needed when one decides to pick at ones elbow for 20 minutes. Oh yes, after his nap, Mr. TW seemed to find some sort of scab on the tip of his elbow. I don't know, as I really couldn't bring myself to look. Don't know whether he got it off or not, I was too busy vomiting into my handbag.

After a while, I packed up my things, and headed home. While walking away from the desk, I turned around, and I swear to God, Mr. TW was stretching himself across the ENTIRE length of the desk he now solely occupied, smiling to himself and seemingly relishing the fact that NOW he could have a proper nap! Because THAT was the problem with his study technique!

Just "Fine"!

"Fine". The word has lost all meaning. Or perhaps aquired a new meaning. You see, nowadays, something is only fine if it, in actual fact, really isnt fine at all. Fine has evolved into "not-fine". Like if everytime you said yes you really meant "not-yes" (ie. no). Come to think of it though, isnt that what most women do?
I honestly prefer dealing with men, because they will always say yes when they mean yes, and no when they mean no. Although, I fear perhaps that this yardstick of sanity that the world has been clinging to throughout the ages is indeed sinking beneath the emergence, and recent creation, of the Metrosexual male. The man who is comfortably in touch with his feminine side. Who knows the winners of this years Oscars, and the location of his cuticles. Ask a man 10 years ago where his cuticles were and he'd think you were hitting on him!
I remember once, while taking part in a pageant, visiting a sheep farm. Our days were filled with visiting different places, and people, and yes, one day we were taken to a sheep farm. Needless to say, sheep farmers were present. Many of them. They were greatly removed from metrosexuality, and any type of sexuality I'd venture to guess! Anyhow, they were enjoying their day. Watching the girls in their pretty dresses sink lower and lower as their stilettos sank into the mud beneath their feet. Some girls mistakenly wore sandals. Myself and another included. And herein lies the story..for, and I swear to God, as we passed two sheep farmers on our way through the muck, one turned to the other, and with a face as serious as I've ever seen, said "Jesus Mick, but they've got fine toes too!"
Of course, here 'fine' meant 'fine'. and so I return to the point of my post. Which is that we should just stop asking people how they are. Because, all we're going to hear is "fine". Which actually means "not-fine", and really doesn't help the situation at all. Because you're not really getting a proper answer to your question. Of course, you could just not give a rats tail about how that person really is. Which I also fear, mostly is the case. So perhaps, we should go on asking people how they are when we couldnt care less, and hearing an answer that we know isnt true, but are thankful for, because when you meet someone in passing, the last thing you want to hear about is the fungus growing on their toes, or God forgive, the fact that they may be so hopeless and helpless and despairing that the only way out they can see is to end the life they've been given. No. Perhaps "fine" will do just fine. For now anyhow.

Someone You've Never Seen

Sitting here listening to Tom Waits "Closing Time".. "no one's awake except for the moon and me". obviously not quite, but sometimes it feels that way doesn't it? Sleep seems so futile sometimes. Unfortunately though, I can't cope without a good nights sleep. Although its occasionally tempting to have a good day's sleep, and to stay up through the night. So much more productive under the cover of darkness. Things can happen during the night, lives can change, there's something so much more magical about the night. About moonlight. "With nothing but moonlight to guide our paths, we shared a few nights of memorable laughs".
Also thinking about how people can just come back into your life. And it always happens when you least expect. You can do all you can to keep some people out, but others.. well others you just know will always have a foot in the door. well, for the time being anyhow. is there ever a right time to meet someone? more importantly, is there ever a wrong time? yes, i think so. i think the key is knowing yourself. if you dont know who you are, then how can you get to know other people? or maybe that's what we do. spend so much time and energy trying to get to know other people, that we forget to save some time for us. know what everyone's favourite colour is, except your own. who cares. favourite colours are like favourite hairstyles..they change. they change with time and they change with you. what happens though when you wake up one day and realise that you've never changed your hair and you have no idea whether you prefer blue, or black, or pink, or green. or whether you're just not really a colourful kind of girl. some people see the world in black and white. what about the shades of grey? colours seem different to different people. i say black, you say navy blue. the world is never seen in colour, because no one's colour is ever the same. just like no one's perception of you is ever the same. no one is ever going to know the real you, because there is no real you. You are who you become when you're with different people. you are who you want yourself to seem to be....
but, who are you when the lights are off, when everyone's gone, when the bar's stopped serving, and even the hobo's are asleep? who are you when the world as you've created it is stripped bare until the sun rises again? thats why the night is the scariest time for alot of people. because there's usually no one there with whom we can pretend to be who we want to be. the stage is dark, the curtains down, the audience is gone home...and the actress doesn't know how to make her legs move to take her off the stage, because she doesnt know how to act like herself. how can you act like someone you've never seen?

A Cone Too Far..

Currently, O'Mally has a huge plastic cone around his head. Doctor's orders, I wont go into the details. But do you think for one minute that he's sitting in a corner feeling sorry for himself? Do you think that he's given up eating, sleeping, playing, because he perhaps feels like a freak with a plastic cone on his head? Nope. Do you think he feels like less of a cat, if you will, simply because he no longer possesses that fundamental cat trait of being able to squeeze through small spaces? Nope. Is he on a diet, thinking that perhaps this turn of events is in someway related to his excessive consumption of catnip and kibbles? Nope.

In fact, it took him less than an hour to realise that there was no way the freaking thing was going anywhere anytime soon. It took him less than an hour to realise that no matter what he did, he wouldn't be able to be cone-free anytime soon. It took him that long to realise that you know what? Sure, its a little (read: alot) awkward. Sure its not very flattering. Sure his mom's gotta put his food into wierd shaped bowls in order that he may maintain some semblance of normality at mealtimes. Sure now instead of licking his body, he licks the plastic cone. Sure its annoying and bothersome. But you know what? I'm not going to let it ruin my life. I'm not going to let it get the better of me. Instead, I'm going to keep playing, keep living, keep going. It's only a plastic cone.

And you know what? I'm learning from this cat. Because, I'll tell you this much.. if that was me with the plastic cone around my head, I'd be curled up in the corner feeling VERY sorry for myself!

What Allergy??

You'd wonder why I got a cat when I'm deathly allergic to cats hairs.

Yes...I wonder that as well. Same way I sometimes genuinely wonder if the lights kinda faulty up there. You know, a flickering on and off kinda thing. The days and nights when I cant breathe through my nose, cant smell the roses of spring, cant pick him up without sneezing...I wonder why I decided to subject myself to it.
Yes, we all wonder why I sometimes do the things I do.

So why? And why don't I send him on to another home?

Because I can't. Because its not something I can do. Because I've made a commitment to him, and God knows even though its not easy getting me to commit, once I do, its permanent. Because the crazy cat lady would hunt me down and neuter me herself. Because he's just so God damn gorgeous. One look from those eyes and you'd melt too.

Nope. The point is, no matter how allergic I am to him, O'Malley is here to stay. He's a permanent fixture at Chez Zena, and you know what? I wouldnt have it any other way.

Just make sure to bring a box of tissues when you come round!

O'Malley

Oh, and his name is O'Malley.

Thanks for all the suggestions..it was a very hard decision to make

The Eyes Of My Eyes Are Opened

In the words of ee cummings
"i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's birthday;this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings:and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any--lifted from the no
of allnothing--human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)"

But For How Long More?

while driving i wonder why no driver smiles. why everyone has upon their face a look of sadness and regret. anticipation not of good times to come, but of the troubles that are bound to come their way. if we expect troubles then we will get them. if we don't we still might. but at least we've saved ourselves some years of worry. and yet, im not going to drive around with a stupid smile on my face, because its really hard to. beeping horns, dim-witted pedestrians who feel the need to cross as the traffic lights turn green, traffic jams, petrol prices, sun in my eyes. oh how i long for the simplicity of the days i never experienced. when the whole world you would ever know was a mere mile or two around you. the world is contracting, our own worlds are expanding, our ability to love perhaps shrinking, our capacity for real communication gone.
a few months ago i posted about our increasing ability to practice the art of what i called "politeful ignorance". click here to read it.
we've also become adept at believing that everyone is against us. with all that's going on around the world, its no wonder. what ever happened to helpful salespeople? or friendly drivers? or happy children?
well, maybe the children are still happy. but i cant help but wonder..for how long more?

A Break. With Normality..

It's really hard to study when you've got a million and one things going through your head. Its even harder when those million and one things are all the same one thought. just in different forms... quite pointless.
Ah its all really quite pointless if you think about it.
At the end of it all, it doesnt matter what we do. What we say. Whether we get out of bed in the morning, whether we do our job. Give it 50 years and the world will have forgotten who we are. Except for the small few who do something which this superficial world deems worthy of committing to its memory. The strong write history. So do the dictators, the controllers, and the "democratically elected elite". So why do we carry on? I dont know. Maybe because if we didnt we'd probably go crazy. Someone once said "We're all born crazy. Some of us stay that way."
It's those who live at the edges of society that still hold on to the craziness that lies within us. Those who have been shunned by state and society are those who are most in touch with the demons and deep emotions that we daily bury deeper into our subconscious. Deeper until one day some of us explode, and do something so "out of character" that we wonder how we ever thought he was "normal". It's not normal to conform. Or maybe it is. Normality is what we label it to be and in this world that we live side by side in, conformity is normality. The law tells us what is normal. The law is written by those who for some reason believe themselves to be more "normal" than others. Some people are born more "normal" than others. Like the animals in Orwells Animal Farm, "all animals are equal, but some are more equal than others". Abiding by this code of normality is unfortunately what most of us spend our entire lives worrying about. We worry that we'll betray the demons within us if we act strange. Yes, normality is the mask we hide behind when we can't face the depths of our emotions. And yet...what would happen if there wasnt this yardstick against which we can measure our actions? How would we ensure society would be protected from those who would cause it harm? Perhaps normality is safety... and it is if you think about it. When you meet someone who arouses intense emotions within you, a sense of fear overcomes you. A sense that you may have met a person for whom "being normal" is significantly harder. May have met a person who has access to a part of humanity, of eternity, of life, that we have forsaked in order to conform.

Oh, I dont know. I dont know where this is going...but I do know i have to go. Adios.

CAT!

Presenting..due to popular demand...

CAT!



This afternoon I put a blanket on my windowsill, and he had a brilliant time just lounging in the sun watching everyone come and go downstairs!






So guys, any names spring to mind? Oh and, the pictures dont do him justice! *sigh*

Stolen My Heart With A Meow

Two days ago, I took a step. A small step for mankind, a gigantic step for me. I adopted! He's less than a year old, with the most gorgeous eyes I have ever seen. Big green almond eyes that seem to search your soul when he meows for his supper. Yes, he's a cat. Perhaps more accurately, he's a catten. Not a kitten, not yet a cat. Oooh, I can see Britney making a fortune out of this one!
He's been with me 2 days already, and although he's stolen my heart, I just cant think of a name that suits him! Currently stuck between a few...including Toulouse. O'Malley was a favourite for a while..he had been hit by a car so his back legs are a bit wobbly still. Currently he swaggers around with a bit of a John Wayne strut! Same strut that Thomas O'Malley the alleycat had in "The Aristocats". My boy definately always gets the girls! Too bad he's *neutered* shhhh

Adopted him from this classic crazy cat lady. I swear to God her house is overrun with cats. I'm talking opening the front door and a swarm of cats milling in the hallway! Apparently though, once you adopt, (I keep referring to adoption because, and I kid you not, she made me sign ADOPTION PAPERS!!) you're not allowed to have a life. Nope, everything must be pushed aside for your cat..and although this seems to be what she herself chose to do, its not the path I personally feel inclined to walk!
"DUBLIN??!! YOU'LL BE GOING TO DUBLIN?? But...But...But what will happen to HIM??"
"INTERNATIONAL POLITICS???!! BUT...What about HIM??"
I assured her I would look after him, after which she turned to him and said "Did you hear that Sweetheart, you're going to be an international jetsetter!" So it seems I have to take him wherever I go. Lord above, it'll all work out, I cant be expected to decide all this now! By the way she was talking, she seemed to be expecting me to call up some random airline and book a seat for my cat "in the event that I may be travelling around the world for work purposes in ten years time!" ?!

She had named him Sweetheart. Although it suits him, he is a sweetheart!, I don't think I really want to be bringing up a cat with masculinity issues. Perhaps Hercules? Or Thor? Hmmmm...Or maybe the Rock! Ideas??

How Old?!?!?

You Are 27 Years Old

Under 12: You are a kid at heart. You still have an optimistic life view - and you look at the world with awe. 13-19: You are a teenager at heart. You question authority and are still trying to find your place in this world. 20-29: You are a twentysomething at heart. You feel excited about what's to come... love, work, and new experiences. 30-39: You are a thirtysomething at heart. You've had a taste of success and true love, but you want more! 40+: You are a mature adult. You've been through most of the ups and downs of life already. Now you get to sit back and relax.

What Age Do You Act?

Take the quiz and let me know...am I the only one acting older than I am??! ;)

Paradise Almost Lost

Back in December, a "Lost World" was discovered in the Foga mountains of Indonesia. Over 2 million acres of rainforest. An area of land where no human had ever walked. "As close to the garden of Eden as you'll ever find on Earth" was how one of the scientists described it. Click here to read about it. Mammals that were hunted to near extinction were found in abundance here. Over 2 dozen new species of butterfly, bird and frog were discovered. No traces of civilisation, no knowledge of any person ever having set foot within this paradise.

And do you want to know the strangest thing? These "wild" animals, showed absolutely NO fear towards humans. They had never known the cruelty that humans shower upon the animal race, and so had never known the fear that other animals have toward us. The animals walked right up to the scientists and allowed themselves to be picked up!

When we describe something as WILD we are defining what is "wild". Perhaps we are the wild ones. We are most certainly the ones who have lost our way; the ones who have lost touch with the natural world and all that encompasses it. We are the ones who are empty within, who believe that nothing else exists but us. A whole world has been developed where the only thing that seems to matter is the human being. We forget that without animals, without plants, without nature, we would not be able to survive.

The Earth willingly gives us more than enough crops to feed us, and yet we rape and pillage her. Taking without appreciating. As if she is there just to serve us. Have we forgotten the animals that share our earth?? Oh how greedy and foolish we are. These "worries" that we have. These "cares", they are not real. They are a part of this elaborate play of 'modern life' that we are putting on. Putting on for whom? For our own enjoyment??

Where did we go wrong?

More Than A Nina Simone Coincedence?

Does it mean anything that every shop I went to in town today had Nina Simone playing in it?
4 shops on different sides of the city...all playing Nina Simone...2 of them the same song at the time I walked in.
Does it mean anything else that these are shops I didnt mean to go into, but were drawn to as I passed?
Hmmm...I think I know what it means. But I dont think I can post it here. Let's just say, the universe may be telling me that I made a wrong decision with regards to a certain person lately.

The Respectable Dead

Francis Stuart, from "Things To Live For"

"There is an emptiness within the human breast, a hunger for we hardly know what, that is the deepest and wildest of all desires. It is the falling in love with life, the dark deep flow below the surface. Subtle, crude, beautiful, terrible. A few have dared to open their arms to it, to plunge into it, and always they are wounded and humiliated; but they have been touched, have been caressed by those fiery fingers that curved the universe, and there remains about them a breadth, a spaciousness, a warmth of genius.
...the wounds are as precious to me as the ecstasy. For both bring me close to that lovely, terrible, profligate, austere thing that is life. To love, that is all that matters. To lavish love even on objects unworthy of it is infinitely better than living a cold, ordered life in a study, in an office, or even in a garden tending flowers. It is only through opening one's arms to life that one will find the ultimate peace and security. Only through suffering and loving. There is no short-cut. Protecting oneself against life is not peace but death. Of all the strage varied people I have met it has not been the sinners, the degraded, the drunkards, the gamblers, the crooks, the harlots who have made me shudder, but the dead, the respectable dead; cut off like a branch from the tree."

Francis Stuart

For lack of anything of significance to write about, allow me to quote from a favourite book of mine, by a wonderful writer. From "Things To Live For", by Francis Stuart.
He speaks of Dublin and Ireland.

"I walked through those streets that I once fought to defend, feeling a little like a stranger. And it was this spirit of smugness and deadness that we fought against and were defeated by. The spirit of liberal democracy. We fought to stop Ireland falling into the hands of publicans and shop-keepers, and she has fallen into their hands...
...Democracy is the ideal of those whose lives as individuals are failures and who, feeling their own futility, take refuge in the mass and become arrogant in the herd. The productive worker, who takes pride in his work and exults in it, is never democratic because he feels no need for this refuge. He stands alone. He does not believe in the rule of the majority because he does not feel himself to be one of the majority. The skill that he brings to his work is something unique and differentiates him."