nor-mal-cy. n. the state or fact of being normal.

"Normalcy" is a stupid word. It really annoys me. Physically, definitionally, existentially. I don't like its implications, or the way it looks or sounds. I especially hate the way it is used in speech. It sounds so official: "things have returned to a state of normalcy." "Phew," we say. "Thank god for that."

Why is normalcy so great? Why do people always talk about returning to it, as if it is a vacation spot? Truthis, normalcy is the exact opposite of a vacation spot. Normalcy is the boring, shitty existence you go back to after your vacation ends. Why would you be excited for that? Why should we strive for that? Normalcy is boring, routine, the social equivalent of a lobotomy. "Hey, come back here! Don't do anything out of the ordinary!" normalcy says. But without theexclamation points. Normalcy hates those.

Of course, normalcy is also the state to which you return after a particularly stressful or painful task, like a shitty week at work, or passing a kidney stone. No doubt this sort of thing is not enjoyable, and being through with it is certainly something to look forward to. Still, instead of thinking of these things as part of life or as a sort of Nietzschean "that-which-does-not-kill-me" notch in our belts, we are indoctrinated to think of them as detours from the cruise-control highway of conformity.

Let me tell you what normalcy means to me. Normalcy is melancholy, boredom, frustration, angst. Normalcy is sitting in a fluorescent haze, proofreading a 100-page indenture for typographical errors and knowing that no one will ever read the damned thing anyway. Normalcy is hopelessly ordinary, assembly line, so plain as to not even be vanilla. Worse yet, in practice, normalcy is mechanical, saccharine optimism -- the kind of hollow "glass is half full" and "if at first you don't succeed..."-type slogans your dad fed you when you got cut from the freshman basketball team. Neither of you believed them, but slowly, surely, you re-detached from reality and made yourself happy by convincing yourself that you'd make the team next year (of course, you didn't). Depressed? Yes, reality can have that effect.

It speaks volumes about our metaphysic that human beings always seek a return to normalcy. We are born with an ability to sense when we are being removed from our comfort zones. In that respect, we are obviously not unique in the animal kingdom. The difference, of course, is that our ideas of perfection and of progress force us to confront normalcy in a way that non-rational animals do not. Because human beings have the ability to think beyond the level of instinct, we have the capacity to understand the dichotomy of normal and abnormal -- how and why that which makes us uncomfortable and unsettled differs from "normalcy." More importantly, our rational self always leaves a trail of popcorn so we can find our way back.

Someone wrote that "[e]verything that once seemed strange is beginning to fade into normalcy." He wrote this in the context of being immersed in a completely foreign environment dominated by gold teeth, incredibly drunk and dangerous drivers, and the irony of people spending days and weeks building a three-story ice castle in the town square despite having no food to eat. I'm not sure how to take the author's words. Has he adjusted his own definition of normalcy because he has become comfortable in his new surroundings? Or is the statement his own recognition that he has begun to take these things for granted even though he knows that he should take delight in the deviation from the norm that they represent? Perhaps he has just learned to ignore the strangeness of his new surroundings. I'm not sure what he meant. Regardless, the language he uses -- "fade into normalcy" -- is, I think, a good indication of what I am getting at. Normalcy is a surrogate for reality. It is a pre-digested infomercial that kind of looks like existence, but without the rough edges, or any difficult decisions. No thinking necessary -- just swallow whole.

Normalcy is not something to strive towards; it is something we get stuck in. It is a rut. It is the easy way out. Normalcy allows us to float through life without actually thinking about the consequences of our actions, the existential weight of our decisions, or really anything at all. By definition, it is a well-trodden path. It is a movie that we've all seen before projected onto a movie screen placed at the edge of a cliff towards which we are careening. We watch the movie to avoid thinking about the reality, that is, the cliff, beyond the screen. And when something happens -- a difficult decision, a harrowing experience -- that makes us look, even for a second, at the cliff, we freak out and scramble to get back to the movie; to "return to normalcy."

I'm not saying that we need to constantly stare at the cliff, which is my very thinly-veiled way of referring to death. That would be morbid and extraordinarily depressing. Life and reality are, in that context, enough to make anyone suicidal. My idea, which is not unique, is that its enough merely to recognize normalcy for what it is: a safety blanket. Coming to that conclusion and keeping it in the back of your head keeps you grounded in reality. Every once in a while, when you're presented with a difficult decision, you'll see the outline of the movie screen, and you'll notice the cliff. And you'll realize that the cliff will always be there. And while one way to look at the cliff is to dwell on the fact that you're going to die (perhaps soon), the other way to look at it is to realize that your existence is in your own hands. At every turn, you independently determine your own existence -- you are dynamic; a human being, not a human be.

That realization, though certainly frightening, should be empowering and exhilirating, too. Existence is a "Choose-your-own-adventure" book, but better, because we always have the option of writing more pages if the choices we're presented with suck. Although you will be affected by outside forces, you ultimately have the final say when it comes to what and who you are. Normalcy denies us that right, because it spoon-feeds us a pre-determined set of choices, defined as "normal," and tells us we're "abnormal" for wanting more choices, or not being satisfied with the ones it gives us.

We are by our nature meant to get swept up in normalcy, distracted by the movie. Its when we forget that its a movie that the complacency starts.