Freaks

Hey everyone, remember high school? You know, that dismal experience that was only tolerable because you just got out of middle school, and things couldn't get any worse? Well, I'm probably joking there—I enjoyed my high school experience for the most part—but it certainly wasn’t the paragon of social parity. In my high school, as I suspect is true in most of your high schools, there were a variety of “groups.” Although they weren’t as exclusive as they seem to be in some high schools, the groups fell into some basic categories. Football players, people in the marching band, etc. Perhaps lowest on the imaginary social totem pole were the freaks. You know what I mean, don’t you? The kids who decided they wanted to be Marilynn Manson when they grew up. All black clothes, long hair of various colors, chains and dog collars, etc. Those kids who just screamed for attention and decided to be weird because they only felt accepted by the unaccepted. It always seemed like a pathetic attempt to be unique, because in trying to be different they all ended up looking the same.

Anyway, I had a revelation of sorts while walking through the Wilk the other day. At one of the tables in the upper level there were several Mediaeval Club folk sitting around. You know that kind too—capes, scraggly facial hair, funny caps and bonnet-type things, homemade shirts, etc. Well, sitting with them at a table was a Goth girl. Now this was surprising in and of itself because the Goth thing really isn’t really à la mode any more, and strange styles aren’t very common at BYU. So I was looking at Goth girl and ye olde company, when it hit me: the Mediaeval Club people are BYU’s version of the Goths in high school. Think about it: they’re both pitiful pleas for attention disguised as the vain attempt at being different. They’re both widely mocked, but the movement stays strong. They attract the strangest of people, thereby reinforcing their mental illness rather than making them more mainstream and (dare I say) normal. The only difference is that the football team here doesn’t beat up the Quill and the Scroll in the hallways.