The Don’t-Sees, the Won’t-Sees and the Not-Sees. Collectively, I call them the three blinded by the right mice. The Don’t-Sees are probably the oddest of the lot. They look up at the infinite wisdom and wonder of the night sky and still believe the sun revolves around the Earth. They do see the faces of angels in forest fires and even the visage of their favorite savior in a burnt tortilla. Don’t get me wrong, belief is a tricky thing. There is no such thing as a religion that doesn’t depend on a leap of faith. A paradox of logic at its core. The opportunity to believe in the unbelievable. The promise of life eternal in return for ignoring the obvious, the earthbound, for rejecting what you see with your own eyes and substituting the gospel, the canons, the dogma or at least the words of authority, any authority that is willing to let you believe they “know better.” The Father Syndrome, as in “Father Knows Best.”

Politically, we refer to this phenomena as a dictatorship. What you see for yourself is of no value. What you get is whatever I give you, or at least whatever I told you I gave you. That is all that matters. Your wants and needs are by natural selection and nature (that’s why I am me, and you are you) the product of a weak mind, an inability to see the world beyond the necessities of life. If left to your own devices, everyone would be happy, healthy, well-fed with a good education and meaningful employment. Can’t have that. Not when there is power and profit to be had from chaos paid for by your ignorance, poverty and suffering. Pain and piety, political or otherwise, become the coin of the realm. The ticket to paradise. Like I said, belief is a funny thing. Believe in the unbelievable or bust.

The Won’t-Sees are the bubble people. They will see what is put before them so long as it agrees with their already predetermined point of view. New is not about information, it’s about affirmation. It’s about finding your tribe. The Won’t-Sees are not interested in the truth. They are only interested in fitting in. Sitting at the table with the cool kids. The better kids. The be best kids. The white kids. The straight kids. The kids with the right stuff, usually the right religion and the right haircut. They go hand and hand. Appearance is after-all 3/4th of reality, isn’t it? Fit in or get out. Use alternative facts if you must, but make it work. If all else fails, prove your worthiness and fealty, make your bones, so to speak, by publicly rejecting, insulting, hurting, maiming and even killing someone from “the other tribe.” Otherwise, it’s the cornfield in the sandbox for you. These are the people who wonder aloud if high school ever has to end. Of course, nobody ever tells them it does.

The Not-Sees are the worst. They come in two flavors. You will know them by their catch- phrases, “He says aloud what I think” and “I voted for him anyway.” Either way, both are nothing short of outright agreement or tacit agreement with, at present, racism, gynophobia, homophobia, xenophobia, and religious intolerance. They see with their own eyes but don’t care. Their selfish, misplaced self-centered concentric view of the universe, not so much the sun revolves around the Earth, but everything and everyone revolves around he, him, possibly they and them, to the degree of institutionalized hatred filling the vacuum left by the inability to feel love and compassion for anyone or anything that doesn’t feed the black hole of want, need, insecurity, waste, plague and pestilence at the center of their constantly collapsing universe. Unrequited love for one’s self on a scale that can never be fully understood by a person of normal inclination, willing to believe what they see before them. What they can touch, what they can feel, what they can love.

I wish I could say I feel sorry for the three blinded by the right mice, but I don’t. I just feel bad for us.