Symbol of the Skull

Why is a skull so often used as a symbol in our culture?  Don’t get me wrong.  I’m guilty of it, too.  I have one or two black t-shirts with skulls on them.  It’s often a universal symbol of rebellion often mistaken as being a symbol for death.  It’s an easy mistake to make.  The association with death and a skull is completely understandable.  

It’s really unfortunate.  A common person not mindful of a broken system and the overgrowing tumor of conformity swallowing individual thoughts and creativity, sees someone with a skull tattoo and instantly labels them as someone who hates life.  Maybe this person does hate life, but the fact that this person hasn’t committed suicide means that this person has hope for it to get better.  Then again, maybe this person got a skull tattoo because its a trendy thing to do, really just defeating its purpose. 

There is a better example.  Think about pirates.  They operated outside of society’s laws and used the Jolly Roger as their symbol.  Sure, you were probably about to die if you saw it approaching, but that wasn’t the concept.  The bottom line is that the skull is used as a symbol of non-conformity or rebellion, not death.  I used to wonder why.  Now I think I know.

During one of my very few days in France, I visited an archeological musem.  I had been traveling throughout both Greece and Italy, visiting gigantic churches and cathedrals, including the Vatican itself, as well as the temples and santuaries of the ancient Greco-Roman gods.  All these places were beautiful, elaborate, decorative, and overwhelming to see.  The statues, the paintings – the art of the Rennaissance – and the buildings were fascinating.  Even as a non-believer of any form of organized religion, I could almost understand how people flock to these places of worship and actually believe in it. 

Yet there is something even more powerful than this to see.  It isn’t beautiful or enlightening to see.  It isn’t anything man-made.  It’s a simple object.  It’s a skull.  In that archeological museum, I found myself staring into the empty eyesockets of a homo habilis – and then the eyesockets of a homo erectus – and homo sapien.  While gazing into these dark spaces, I realized I was staring right into the face of cold, hard truth.  In this specific example, it is the truth of evolution.  I’ve always believed in evolution, because that’s what we’ve found the evidence for.  There are arguments stating there are still gaps to be filled.  They’re right, but it’s happening.  The gaps are getting filled, unlike – ahem – creationism.  But nothing will ever fill or replace the empty spaces in the eye sockets of a skull.