We do not even have a word for us. We are nomads of the universe. We think universally but everything is divided into disciplines and sub-disciplines. Efforts to philosophize on everything end up in Ken Wilber color-coded invitations to yet another discipline. And marketed! Still we are the ones who can see. And we are the ones who can say. And we are the ones who deserve an ear even if the sound we get back is derision. We are also in the majority! For at bottom all people are universalists (or what Dostoevsky called philosophers) by virtue of minds that contain essentially the same things. And by things I mean values, ideas, habits waiting to be born wrapped in a penumbra of fallibility and supposition. Shakespeare reigns because he plumbed the universal. We suffer suffer atrophy because we don't.
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