Appearance. So important to some that they judge others by their appearance, even ostracize them when they don't look "normal."
As a kid I went to see Dumbo and was enthralled by the flying pachyderm’s aerial maneuvers. But then, I was little, and the animation was entertaining. Had Dumbo not been able to fly, his story might have been different and very much like tragic tales of those whose physical appearance generates derision in the cruel and heartless. I guess Rudolph encountered the same kind of initial ridicule and disdain that all characters like Dumbo face over “differences.” And possibly at times, all of us undergo some form of social cruelty over our appearance. I think, for example, of those advertised slide programs online which are headlined by “She was once a beauty queen, but you will be surprised by how she looks now,” a title that introduces “before” and “after” photos.
That we identify physical deformities is a product of our thinking there’s a “normal” appearance. It’s easy for us to generalize the human figure; in fact, such generalizing might be the product of sheer laziness. We pass so many “normal” people in a day, that any perceived exception draws our attention as though, in looking in the mirror over years or decades we see no change in ourselves. But all of us are accumulations of some deformities. That opposable thumb, for example, or that chin you use to change a pillow case. We might even ask whether pillows couldn’t be invented until chins evolved, a “chicken-or-egg” problem. Certainly, Neanderthals would have had trouble changing a pillow case with recessive chins.
And ears. Handy for keep glasses in place when coupled with a nose. Ears come in all sorts of shapes, and they, like other body parts, evolved as accumulations of “deformities” over previous types, the human ear, for example and according to Darwin, containing an inward-pointing “ear point,” a little bump on the inside of the outer ear’s fold that is a vestigial remnant of a pointy ear. And that makes me—as you might guess—think of mummification.
Say what? Yes, mummification. I think of mummification because the process preserves those soft parts of the skull not naturally preserved. Skulls easily survive the ravages of time, whereas soft tissue, cartilage, doesn’t survive as well, if at all. Which brings me to artificially deformed skulls, “intentional cranial deformation,” as it is termed. Hippocrates wrote about the practice 2,400 years ago, speaking of the macrocephali, or long-heads. The practice of intentionally deforming the human skull by wrapping it from birth seems to have occurred in many parts of the world, even in parts of the New World. The product of the wrapping is a space-alien appearance in our contemporary imagery.
If we believe we know what “normal” is, then obviously, some peoples throughout history (and prehistory) have decided to make cosmetic changes to alter the “normal,” the practice coming from motivations both hidden and known, in some places known as a mark of beauty or social standing. But back to ears. Have you looked in a mirror while wearing a Covid-19 mask? Have you noticed that some masks pull the ears out wing-like, if not Dumbo-like?
Now let’s postulate that contemporary civilization adopts a “wear-a-mask-most-of-the-time” policy, even after the passing of the coronavirus threat. Little kids, their heads—and ears—not completely formed, suddenly become deformed by masks, developing “mask ears,” to be preserved for future archaeologists to discover in mummified bodies. They will debate the motivations. “Did these people circa the twenty-first century follow some cult? Did they believe wing-ears were a mark of beauty? Were they hard of hearing, so they changed the angle of the ear to capture more sound? Were such ears a mark of social standing? Why were they so intent on deforming ears?”
Sorry, didn’t mean to make you self-conscious about your appearance during your Covid years, especially about your “mask ears.” But if everyone keeps wearing a mask that pulls the ears outward, then “mask ears” will become the norm among the living. Fortunately for future generations—or maybe unfortunately, depending on perspective—ears won’t change through some Lamarckian process. But within a single generation or several generations, any social practice can become the norm. That’s possibly a good thing. Those who perceive that their own “beauty” is the “norm” will by constant exposure, accept a different norm, or at least, have to accept that they, like everyone else, have some deformity. That, in itself, might reduce the instances of social cruelty and ostracizing.
As a kid I went to see Dumbo and was enthralled by the flying pachyderm’s aerial maneuvers. But then, I was little, and the animation was entertaining. Had Dumbo not been able to fly, his story might have been different and very much like tragic tales of those whose physical appearance generates derision in the cruel and heartless. I guess Rudolph encountered the same kind of initial ridicule and disdain that all characters like Dumbo face over “differences.” And possibly at times, all of us undergo some form of social cruelty over our appearance. I think, for example, of those advertised slide programs online which are headlined by “She was once a beauty queen, but you will be surprised by how she looks now,” a title that introduces “before” and “after” photos.
That we identify physical deformities is a product of our thinking there’s a “normal” appearance. It’s easy for us to generalize the human figure; in fact, such generalizing might be the product of sheer laziness. We pass so many “normal” people in a day, that any perceived exception draws our attention as though, in looking in the mirror over years or decades we see no change in ourselves. But all of us are accumulations of some deformities. That opposable thumb, for example, or that chin you use to change a pillow case. We might even ask whether pillows couldn’t be invented until chins evolved, a “chicken-or-egg” problem. Certainly, Neanderthals would have had trouble changing a pillow case with recessive chins.
And ears. Handy for keep glasses in place when coupled with a nose. Ears come in all sorts of shapes, and they, like other body parts, evolved as accumulations of “deformities” over previous types, the human ear, for example and according to Darwin, containing an inward-pointing “ear point,” a little bump on the inside of the outer ear’s fold that is a vestigial remnant of a pointy ear. And that makes me—as you might guess—think of mummification.
Say what? Yes, mummification. I think of mummification because the process preserves those soft parts of the skull not naturally preserved. Skulls easily survive the ravages of time, whereas soft tissue, cartilage, doesn’t survive as well, if at all. Which brings me to artificially deformed skulls, “intentional cranial deformation,” as it is termed. Hippocrates wrote about the practice 2,400 years ago, speaking of the macrocephali, or long-heads. The practice of intentionally deforming the human skull by wrapping it from birth seems to have occurred in many parts of the world, even in parts of the New World. The product of the wrapping is a space-alien appearance in our contemporary imagery.
If we believe we know what “normal” is, then obviously, some peoples throughout history (and prehistory) have decided to make cosmetic changes to alter the “normal,” the practice coming from motivations both hidden and known, in some places known as a mark of beauty or social standing. But back to ears. Have you looked in a mirror while wearing a Covid-19 mask? Have you noticed that some masks pull the ears out wing-like, if not Dumbo-like?
Now let’s postulate that contemporary civilization adopts a “wear-a-mask-most-of-the-time” policy, even after the passing of the coronavirus threat. Little kids, their heads—and ears—not completely formed, suddenly become deformed by masks, developing “mask ears,” to be preserved for future archaeologists to discover in mummified bodies. They will debate the motivations. “Did these people circa the twenty-first century follow some cult? Did they believe wing-ears were a mark of beauty? Were they hard of hearing, so they changed the angle of the ear to capture more sound? Were such ears a mark of social standing? Why were they so intent on deforming ears?”
Sorry, didn’t mean to make you self-conscious about your appearance during your Covid years, especially about your “mask ears.” But if everyone keeps wearing a mask that pulls the ears outward, then “mask ears” will become the norm among the living. Fortunately for future generations—or maybe unfortunately, depending on perspective—ears won’t change through some Lamarckian process. But within a single generation or several generations, any social practice can become the norm. That’s possibly a good thing. Those who perceive that their own “beauty” is the “norm” will by constant exposure, accept a different norm, or at least, have to accept that they, like everyone else, have some deformity. That, in itself, might reduce the instances of social cruelty and ostracizing.
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