Text
CC 2012 by MJ Vilardi, Creative Commons –
May be shared with attribution
May be shared with attribution
1.
Skinner
Box – Part I
by MJ Vilardi
Anyone who knew Ross for more than a
a few days (minutes usually) came to the quick realization that he had a
voracious appetite and Rasputin-like tolerance for intoxicating liquids and
mind-altering substances. At Antioch when he flung open the Doors of Perception
great things would swoop in and amaze us: the Space Brothers whispering secrets
of the cosmos; Earth sprites and green fairies, like those Ross would encounter
at Findhorn in Scotland, hiding behind the monster cabbages; and of course,
shadow specters of ourselves, trying, from their vantage point outside of
timespace, to offer a few tips on how we should be living.
But the DC Edition of Ross was
different. He was drawn into the oblivion and little-death that drugs offered,
and his writings and drawings became muddy, derivative, and disappointing.
Sometimes, through the haze, he produced little gems, like his dark screenplay
"The Reaper," based on a film he'd seen years ago. But even then, he
had almost no patience or focus to discuss the logistics of getting a film
produced. And I noticed something peculiar: every time we came close to a
success, Ross would say or do something that would discredit our efforts. The
pattern suggested a self-defeating dynamic that protected him against failure.
If you never really try, you can't be accused of failure if things don't work
out. I suspected this complex had roots in his troubled childhood. "I am
not one of life's walking wounded," he said once, with sudden,
inappropriate anger. Ross never elaborated, but it was obvious that something
weird had happened with his Father. His Dad was a prominent professor of
psychology. "He raised me in a Skinner Box in the basement," Ross
said cryptically.
There was a point at which Ross felt
he could extend an olive branch, and patch things up with the old man. He
called to say he was going to visit them in Michigan. "Son," the Father said, "You should know that I keep a gun, and I know how to use it."
The awful
depths of this cruel story wouldn't become clear until many years later, when I
met Dr. McConnell. At Ross's funeral.
(Stay
tuned for Part II, coming soon!)
