Main Entry: cam·ou·flage
Pronunciation: \ˈka-mə-ˌfläzh, -ˌfläj\
Function: noun
Etymology: French, from camoufler to disguise
Date: 1917
1: the disguising especially of military equipment or installations with paint, nets, or foliage; also : the disguise so applied2 a: concealment by means of disguise b: behavior or artifice designed to deceive or hide
— cam·ou·flag·ic
\ˌka-mə-ˈflä-zhik, -jik\ adjective
Amy showed up at my work yesterday and I nearly failed to spot her in a lobby occupied by her and only her. She is viking - blond hair, blue eyes, skin so white it is nearly translucent. You'd think she would be easy to spot in a color-filled room, especially by her own mother.
She was dressed head-to-toe gangsta, I do not lie. Only the glasses gave her away and they were hard to spot under the stocking cap she wore pulled down to cover every strand of viking blond hair.

On another day, Jody called me from a phone number I didn't recognize and, speaking with an accent, began a most remarkable sales pitch that actually had me nearly buying something until some small inflection, perhaps a chuckle under her breath, gave her away.

You might conclude from these two examples that Vicky is not very smart or perhaps suffers from early onset of
dementia. Both might be true, but there is a larger truth here - that humans are adept at camouflaging themselves.
Soldiers, gang members and flat-chested women use camouflage to hide or appear different
and thus survive. Mottled fabric, puffy jackets, even pushup bras are all camouflage. Face paint makes tribal warriors look fierce, and Cover Girl makes beautiful eyes. But it isn't just our external shells we try to hide. Humans use far more complex tools to emotionally camouflage themselves. And they devote a lifetime to doing it.
Norton Juster alludes to how easy it is to
misperceive in his description of the many characters Milo encounters as he journeys through the Land of Wisdom in
The Phantom Tollbooth. Along the way, Milo encounters Faintly Macabre (the Which), Dodecahedron (who has twelve faces, each with a different emotion), and the Whether Man (who could not tell a cirrus cloud from a cumulus cloud). All are something different than what they I.N.I.T.I.A.L.L.Y. appear to be.
Eventually, Milo comes upon a house with four doors. He knocks on the first and the door is answered by a very ordinary-looking man who claims to be the world's shortest giant. A knock on the second door reveals this same ordinary-looking man who claims to be the world's tallest midget. Door three and the same man, purporting to be the world's thinnest fat man, and the final door where Milo is greeted by the fattest thin man, all four people being the very same individual. The implication is that how others perceive us is affected by how we present ourselves to them.
And humans will go to extraordinary lengths to blend. Intelligent people will play dumb so they won't be bothered. Not-so-intelligent people will answer any question with any answer just to look smart. (And drop-dead gorgeous actors hide their bald spots even though we could care less if they have any hair at all on top of their head.)

Hurt people often hide behind sarcasm. Lonely people act like clowns. Shy people hide behind their hand, their hair and often their friends. Seldom is an individual not camouflaged in some tiny way. And the truth is, we don't even know we are doing it. By adulthood, certain techniques have become ingrained - like the chameleon changing colors when light reflects in its cells ...hey! Where'd it go? It was here a minute ago...
So, here in this world where we all share a finite amount of space, you have individuals who are constantly camouflaged and constantly camouflaging to fit in with current surroundings. And you have individuals who think they know who they are looking at and think they need to speak to those hidden agendas.
Abraham Lincoln once said, "I don't like that man. I must get to know him." What wisdom! How are we, scarred and scared individuals, able to correctly identify the so-called
speck
in someone else's eye with a
freakin' huge beam
in our own? And if we don't take the time to get to know that person - learn what they've been through, learn what shaped their thinking, then any wisdom we might offer them is based on incomplete knowledge and is likely just us acting smart, cammo to cover our own stupidity.
I suspect that when we truly know someone well enough to know why they clown around, know where the sarcasm flows from, then we will no longer notice the speck.
Milo and his watchdog companion, Tock, travel through Wisdom mostly by land. There are a couple of exceptions - one when, since time often flies, Tock is able to transport Milo and others aerodynamically. The other, and to my point, is when Milo, Tock and The Humbug utter unsubstantiated statements and thus jump to the Island of Conclusions. The only way back, of course, is to swim through the Sea of Knowledge.
People aren't what they seem, and people don't see clearly. Wouldn't it be amazing if we took the time to gain inside knowledge about the workings of another individual and then used that knowledge to clear up our sight rather than beat them to a bloody pulp? If we don't take the time to clear our vision before gazing intently at another, we will seriously misread a camouflaged individual and take action that will only make them want to apply a second coat of war paint, perpetuating the cycle of animosity. Getting to know them, on the other hand, allows us an opportunity to accept them just the way they are and enables them to see past our flak jacket and olive garb, too. To the parts of us that are wonderfully alike.