I've gone to some trouble to point the spotlight outward so far, at the humans, through imagined antiquity, so it's only fair that I point it at myself from time to time, yes?
The identifier 'SchnozBott' (secondary capitalization intended) is not so much a name as a title, and even then an honorary one, holding no authority or official office. I assure you it has nothing to do with noses, or robots. Very much like myself, a SchnozBott is, sociologically speaking, the puzzle piece in the box that clearly doesn't go with the set it's in with; it might look a bit like the other pieces, but it just has no place in the image and just doesn't fit right. Some joker must have brought over a jigsaw set and left a piece behind. The kicker though, is that this mismatched piece looks like it could potentially be an important one. It might be part of a face, or hand, or some other detail that the right picture desperately needs to be complete.
My 'mission' here on Earth began much like the life of any human child. With each passing year however, it became increasingly clear how peculiar I was compared to my peers. Without a clear understanding of who I really was, I struggled to 'fit in' with one group or another, usually meeting with failure and/or rejection. It was through this process that I developed a sense of default mistrust and suspicion toward others, as a defense against the naive cruelty of the young.
Eventually I had an epiphany. I reached a point where I realized that I didn't have to fit into a social clique. The expectation that I had to do this was artificial, acquired externally, and only caused frustration and pain. I elected to listen to my inner voice and be as weird as I wanted to be. This decision wasn't made in a vacuum, I was partly inspired to just be myself by people I befriended who were as weird as they wanted to be as well.
OK, enough after-school-special. Catapulted into adulthood, I found the macrocosm of the world to be much like the microcosm of school, everything scaled up and blown out of proportion. In every endeavor, the stakes had been raised. The wrong word or action could carry permanent consequences, no leeway, wiggle room, or do-overs permitted. Faced with the horror of an unforgiving world, I had little choice but to wear the mask of normalcy for the benefit of others. Behind my wall I'm still quite mad, but the humans need not know that madness walks among them.
But what is it that makes me "mad" in this world? Aside from the obvious, one of the biggest reasons I wear that label is that I make the following assertion: This world does not have to be like this. I look outward upon the jungles of concrete covered in vines of wires, choking out the natural world. Billboards and banner ads and commercial jingles; an assault on the senses at every turn. Propaganda, pundits, indoctrination, misinformation, intentional ignorance, self-delusion, misplaced praise, blind faith, monetarism, louder, faster, brighter, more more more more more more more! It doesn't have to be this way. This is not as good as it can get. I look at the cyberpunk dystopia and some optimistic part of me sees a possibility for a better world; I want to scream it from the rooftops sometimes, that we can fix this shit if we can learn to work together.
I can't do that though. I've spent the better part of my life not being taken seriously. My proclamations and gesticulations would get lost in the noise, or shot down by a legion of louder voices. I don't claim to know all the answers, only that I may have a few words of wisdom to offer. Words that would probably go unheard, given that most would not listen. That is the fate of the SchnozBott, 'The Unheard Voice', he who would wander the wasteland; to be one who could help save a world, but is powerless to do so.
But if you're here reading this, hearing me rant on my little hill, then perhaps I am able to do something after all. Thank you for listening.
-SchnozBott
"What shall we use
To fill the empty spaces
Where we used to talk
How shall I fill
The final places
How should I complete the wall..."
-Pink Floyd, Empty Spaces
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