Assimilation is all up to the discretion of the mob. Fitting in, which is the subject of one of the Broken Spindles songs in this long-lost session, is not something that one can just do. It still has to be decided by the mob. Fitting in, something everyone would like to do - either to be ignored enough to do one's own thing, or to actually fit in and feel like a normal being - is never up to them.
Others, many others, still have to take everything into account and spit back out a determination of whether or not the freak is a freak, or the freak is like the rest of us freaks. It can all be very confusing, but so many things are, aren't they? The way that we look at it, there's not much fitting in. It's a real splintered definition, but the basket that you can try to place your eggs in is the one where you might be able to get some return on your eccentricities. It's a place where you can find all of the awkward little triumphs, awarded to the awkward motions and actions of the awkward people.
It's sung here, "Please ignore how cold I seem," and the warning should be heeded. It should also go without saying. It should be assumed that there's going to be some ice packed away for specific times when it's needed, when one feels threatened and when the gamesmanship is tipping, turning ugly. Broken Spindles songs are attentive to the peculiar formulas that we take to keep upright and not let the landslides and the phonies get to us too much.
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