Genius and Psychosis

Thanks to very fine teachers I used my time in training on call studying the long history of psychiatry.  I read the original works of Jung and Freud , Reich, Adler, and later Frankl, Menninger, Erickson.  It was in their personal writings that so many of the most profound insights were recorded. I love R. D. Laing living with Schizophrenics and the original community projects and other experiments that clarified modern ideas of mental illness.

 Today too much emphasis is placed on the ‘evidence based’ scientific study since it’s inherent limitations are the money and selection of the research that such studies so commonly are designed for.  Clearly the Grant Study like the Framingham study, prospective studies with profound insight are a step above so many others.

I liked the original observers who questioned matters like ‘secondary gain’ and considered the ‘advantages of insaneity’ and why it persisted.  What ‘value’ did these states have.  The disease model has been so fixed on eradication without consideration of the benefits.  The studies of distribution and the genetic studies of the turn of the century showing a crazy aunt or uncle in the attic of all the greatest of the New England seaboard were that kind of insight.

I liked the the studies which showed the relationship of genius to Schizoprehnia.  What was the difference between the grandiose idea of the manic depressive and the grandiose idea of the great creator, statesman or artists. 

Today there’s a beurocratic emphasis on the median and mediocrity whereas that was not always the case.  I fear that the end of the world is more likely to follow such stultifying reductionism than it is to any cataclysmic world event.  There’s a wearing tedium to this safe thinking and safe behaviour and emphasis on safety that has been shown associated with the fall of great eampiers and not associated with the greatest breakthroughs. Science is the world of wonder and daring whereas too often the politics of today is based on fear rather than belief. 

In my own work with geniuses and with schizophrenics and manic depressives I’ve I saw  that often the only real distinction was in the outcome of the ideas as opposed to the variation. Both the ideas of a mad man and the ideas of a genius are equally frightening and alien. This explains the common concept of ‘awe’ before encounters with God.  It is difficult to maintain an open mind and more easy to take the safer route of being closed minded.

Yet to the mediocre genius is wholly alien.  

Now having met folk who feel that eating their neighbours would be a great idea there’s limits to one’s open mindedness especially if one is the close most proximal neighbour to this ideology.  Yet that’s less a concern than the tendency to reduce the possible to the limits of the mediocre especially where there is fear and frank cowardice.  

Every day we live with miracles that would have had us shot, locked up or burnt at the stake were it not for risk taking and open mindedness.  I thinkit’s  important to embrace genius and also to have the humility to recognize that genius is commonly so much beyond the scale of one’s own conception. It’s childlike in wonder.  It’s birthplace is curiosity and I would add love.  

I truly am thankful to have had the privilege to have known genius, rare and wonderful and struggling to relate in a world where they are not the masses. To the majority, their genius was not so much as blessing as a curse.  

Vancouver, eh?

I love Canadian. I remember returning to England after bicycling across Europe with Baiba and so enjoying hearing the English trying to speak Canadian.
The English in Dover then didn’t speak the language properly as Canadians do but it was a far better proximity to modern Canadian communication than any of the Dutch, Germans, French, Spanish, etc had been able to achieve.  I would think with all their old world knowledge they’d have learned how to communicate in Canadian by now. Their stubborn persistence in maintaining their outmoded communication is probably central to their ongoing difficulties at getting along with each other.  If there’s to be peace on earth everyone must simply learn Canadian, eh?
 So here I was again,returning home from a foreign country, all too full of foreigners, and glad to be back among the chosen and holy.   Having spent weeks studying how the Russians are coming along with their Canadian, I find they’re still not really getting it.  With their excellent hockey capacity and cosmonaut capability you would think they’d be able to communicate in Canadian.  But no.  They persist in making all manner of mistakes with language, not even getting the alphabet right.
I repeated myself.  I even raised my voice.  I  spoke very slowly to them at times.  But they couldn’t even understand Canadian to give me directions,  let alone speak it.   I was glad to return to this land of deep intelligence.  Some Russians actually thought I was the idiot.
Immediately I boarded the KLM plane home the stewardess, with very little effort, was speaking Canadian. I have hope for the Dutch.  When I got off the plane, sure enough everyone in Vancouver appeared to have mastered the art of communication. Given we in Vancouver, make Canadian seem so easy, I wonder if that’s what makes it so difficult for foreigners.  We can’t be faulted with our own genius.  They just have to try harder as nations.    I feel sorry for other countries and understand why so many people come here from there.  It’s the  only place people actually talk properly.
I loved getting in my own truck too.  In Moscow they expected me to share the Metro with everyone else.  Not once did they offer me my own train.  I would have been happy with my own train car but no, they insisted on crowding me into this little space with all these foreigners. Nice people, friendly.  In then end, I expected they all just wanted to be close to a real Canadian.  Probably only get the chance to see us on tv.  So here they were all about me, acting like they were just going from place to place, when they really were having, perhaps, their very first ecstatic  experience of being near a Canadian.  
In the Metro I just hoped  all those foreigners washed, brushed their teeth, and kept up with their  vaccinations.  I confess I sniffed at them a bit, like Canadians do around foreigners. These ones smelt just fine.  I actually think they were probably a better sort of foreigner, the kind  authorities keep, to show off to Canadians.
I really liked having my own Ford F350  truck back..  All that space inside and all that diesel power to drive right over the top of anyone who even thought to mess with a Canadian.
I also really liked being reunited with my real man dog,  Gilbert,  the cockapoo. Hannah  and her girl dog Hamchi took wonderful care of him.  Still when he saw me it was like male prison break from an all girls reform school. He barked, ran circles and danced up and down.   He was pretty clear too after that gleeful reunion the king was back.  He quickly had his  ’subject’ human  throwing ball, fetching food, and scratching his belly.  It was really good to be reunited. He doesn’t speak Canadian but I understand dog.  Dog might be the only language superior to Canadian.
Then we were home.  Home is great. .  I was so excited to see everything I love still here. Hurricanes, tsunamis, zombies and meteorites could well have taken it all away.  I was filled with gratitude.  Mida had been by and tidied up the hectic mess I’d left leaving.  
My Harley Davidson Motorcycle was there too.  Gilbert and I got on that  Harley with Steve Bell music playing full volume and rode on the highway.
I've even enjoyed going back to work. No major crisis while I was away. The plants and fish survived.  The bills had piled up but not so bad that that the tax department has sent around anyone to knee cap me. Aubrey, my assistant, kept things safe.
Then there were friends.  In Russia I only had one friend, Barrett.   Here I have what seem like a gazillion people and family too.  They all know and speak and are Canadian.  Holy sainted geniuses, the lot of them.
I’m really glad to be home.  I don’t know if the rest of the world is going to learn Canadian any time soon. They’re still a little backward.
I keep telling foreigners that if you want to know God,  stop with the om,   amen, or allah akbar.  Just say ‘eh’ ? And everything  will  be okay, eh?