On their own, people are themselves. They look inside for the truth of what each of us is; our essence. Once in a group, we become parts of ourselves which are just generic, recurring patterns within society. We become boorish, more violent, and yet more closed; less willing to explore what we can do. A disco, or a congo are amusing things; but still examples of the silliness of mankind. If we were to remain anonymous, and our need for identity forgotten, life would have too much freedom, and end in its own destruction. For anonymity leads to self expression of the most extreme. Freedom fears not the eternal cell of scrutiny. There is no face to judge its uncontrollable laugh at the face of mankind. To be free from the curse of identity is to be cursed with too much freedom. Conflicting ideas of freedom and voice would choose to eliminate hindrances by its own hand. Without the ordered hand of identity, a faceless man is a man without shame. He is invisible, and his own expression may threaten others. A darkened shade is laced across the world by total freedom. Their actions cannot be traced to the identity that had given breath to it.

-Unknown Author