February 23, 2015

Dawkins is Sexy, in ways that he is Unaware

Dawkins is Sexy, in ways that he is Unaware
Image copyright Richard Dawkins Foundation for Reason & Science. (I beg that the Foundation be so kind as to order that I cease and decist in the comments or via the email link at nihonbunka.com

In a Youtube video Richard Dawkins answered questions about evolution from Reddit users.

At 8:13"What are the three most important questions in biology?" He is asked and responds with questions, at least two of which biology is unlikely ever to answer, and are often considered the domain of religion

1) How does consciousness evolve and what is consciousness?
He has not a clue but religion is out the window. Does he even address the issue? Soul, self, mind, consciousness, and conscience are all right at the top of the religious agenda and yet biology has little to say. His friends Dan and Sam appear to explain conscience away, as a sort of mistake. Are they Buddhists? Do they labour under the mistake even as they denounce it? Doesn't that worry them? Dawkins has consciousness, but he does not know what it is, and he is going to die fairly soon. For his own sake and world's I would like him to take up this question rather than attempting to eradicate religion.

2) How did life itself evolve, what was the origin of the first self replicating molecule?
Again, he has no idea about origins, or rather apparent breaks in the continuum of the natural world but has ditched God as barbaric ignorance. Does evolution even explain the origin of the species, that is to say of discrete species in the plural?
The Abramaic religions appeal to the divine logos, the Buddhist claim it is a mistake (there are no divisions, the world is one and alive), and Shintoists think it has something to do with sex, which brings us to

3) Why do we have sex?
In view of the fact that consciousness is argued to be dependent upon otherness, and that sex may be the original discontinuity in the natural world, the answer to this question might be linked to the first two questions but for some reason the editors fade this question out. This is the one question biologists might be able to answer. But first, do we have sex? How many sexes? Is sex a continuum or discrete? Where do we have sex; is it a biological construct or a mental one?

Dawkins seems to disprove himself, or be unaware of how sexy he is, from about 8:43, in answer to the next question, where he demonstrates that different mammals share the same genes and form a family tree.

Like Dawkins, I see horses and cats, humans and rats as different. The Bible explains this difference: Adam and God named creatures and through the intervention or admixing of the Logos, presto the species have existed as different ever since. The species are different to me, and they are different to Dawkins who can kill rats but not humans (as we shall see, the important thing is not whether he can kill them or not). And yet Darwin is speachlesss in the face of this difference. Worse still, evolution (Dawkins at 8:46 in this video) demonstrates that there is no difference, there are no species, the species are all part of the same family. There is only a continua. What happened to it?

I see that this is called "Darwin's dilemma: Why do species exist?" Ha! Darwin wrote a book of 500 pages called "The Origin of the Species" and ends up asking "Why do species exist?!" In Darwin's words

"First, why, if species have descended from other species by fine gradations, do we not everywhere see innumerable transitional forms? Why is not all nature in confusion, instead of the species being, as we see them, well defined?"

This is the question to which the Bible would provide an answer.

The fact we experience the world in a discrete speciated way needs to be explained. The Biblical explanation may not satisfy everyone but it appears to be a theory that words have really got inside us, animate us; words have become living. Dawkins' friend Dennet eveng goes so far as to claim that we, our selves, are words, and not biology at all. How does biology explain this?

I see that recent biological debate on speciation identifies (or conflates) species with reproductive isolates. In other words, a species is different from another species if the members cannot or do not mate. It seems we live in a very sexual world where the boundaries are decided upon the possibility and acuality of sexual activity. First of all, does this really explain the percieved diversity? I see that there are morphologically similar flies that do not mate due to different behaviour. They look like they should be able to mate to us, but not to each other. Is the origin of the species in the mojo of their members? And that there are others where the males will mate with those from the "other species" but the females will not. Are these two species or one? Is it the mojo of the males that matters? Often in practice it would seem that female mojo is more imporant, since, for example, "male wolves take advantage of their greater size in order to mate with female coyotes, while female wolves and male coyotes do not mate," and we generally view wolves and coyotes as seperate species. Species are seperate if the ladies aren't turned on.

Do I fail therefore to see the original continua, the "blooming buzzing confusion," the light, because I have a dirty, female mind? This is beginning to sound like the Bible. Biology may be getting there -- to the explanation of the origin of the species -- but the direction it is heading is decidedly queer, in an auto-erotic, and weird to the point of being religious, way.

I see that many of his detractors charge Dawkins with being in some sense "gay". I mean no disrespect but merely to draw his attention to the theory (Derrida, 1987, 1976) that we remain speciated -- viewing the world through the lens of language -- due to the fact that we are always sending ourselves, or a woman we simulate withing ourselves, love letters.

Derrida, J. (1987). The post card: From Socrates to Freud and beyond (p. 218). Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Derrida, J. (1976). Of Grammatology. 1967. Trans. Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins UP, 247-72.

Speaking of foundations, I am reminded of mules and other hybrids that can't mate.

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February 20, 2015

The Girl Who Played with Fire in The Light of Day

The Girl Who Played with Fire in The Light of Day
My most popular post is about the motherly female assissin that I have in my mind. But I could not explain why my imaginary friend should be an assissin. Upon consideration of Graham Swift's novel, The Light of Day, it seems to me that I have the answer. I think I had my cranial (m)other kill my father as explained in my review (with spoilers) of the book the cover of which is pictured above.

Spoiler Alert

On the face of it, Graham Swift's novel, "The Light of Day" is the story of a typical Western, detective, speaking, as if to himself, in a hard-boiled way, relating how and why he came to be sending letters to a woman in prison, because he allowed her to commit a murder, and how he hopes that she will be released, into the light of day. There is also a back story regarding how the detective's father had a mistress, like the imprisoned woman's husband. It is one of several novels by the same author in which a protagonist visits someone who cannot communicate and is in some sort of confinement.

Read alongside Lacanian Freud and Derrida's "The Postcard," this novel expresses an apocalyptic vision of why we have a narrative self at all, and explains the proliferation of imprisoned or otherwise controlled murderous women (Nikita, Leon, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, Alias, Doll House, Dark Angel etc).

Freud sets the scene in Totem and Taboo. He says that we have a super-ego, dad-in-our-head, due to some ancient patricide that continues to be reinacted. Where Freud is a little weak in my view is in his explanation of how this patricide leads to the internalisation of a father or anyone at all. According to Freud, the band of brother's feel remorse, love for the father they have lost, and they need the father to keep society in order. What Freud may be missing is that we may have had our crainial, imaginary mother pull the trigger, or wield the knife.

Lacan is more specific on the involvement of "(m)other". In the Lacanian version, it is the mother than cuts the mother-child bond. Lacan claims that mothers explain to their children that mummy must go and sleep with daddy. "I must go and sleep with daddy now," they say and turn out the lights. Mothers explain to their children, the censure, the No and name of the father. The "Non de Pere", Lacan quips. Now the super-ego or part of it is the representative of the father, the bearer of the fathers name and sanction, the (m)other.

But this still does not explain the current popularity of female assassins nor really why mother - representing daddy - might end up in the child's head.

Children can see what is going on. Their love, though as bright as the sun (indeed as yet without a narrative self, they are the sun) loses out to that of daddy, the jaded salary transporter. Often times daddy is just going through the motions. Sometimes he will even have a mistress. So, in the fantasy world of the Western child, they have an accomplice. Mummy takes out a knife and guts daddy. Then, still bloodied, and fragile, their cranial assassin, they imagine, will come and sleep with them them in the dungeon of their minds. This explains the fascination with female assassins and why some of them, including Lisbeth Salander, kill a father; Lisbeth kills her own in the second book.

This aspect of the fantasy adds violence to the sex. Perhaps if one were only having a homo-autoerotic relationship with oneself, as Derrida seems to express in "The Post Card" (Derrida, 1987) then perhaps we would wise up. But under this interpretation we have got a fantasy going where we not only turn ourselves on, but turn other people off. At the very least, as Lacan says, we had her do the deed and cut us loose from the father, but in our imagination, at least according to me, she 'sides' with us. As a result, generally speaking this, partricidal fantasy is far too horrible to thought or expressed, so mother #2 has to be kept hidden, in a place where we continue to send her hard-boiled love letters, hoping and not hoping (because we enjoy the correspondence), that one day, she will come out into the light of day.

What am I talking about? Ha. That is the point. Why am I talking at all? Why do I keep talking to myself? A lot, if not all, of Western philosophy attempts to answer this question, or, ignoring it, bases their conclusions (I think therefore I am) upon the assumption that speaking to oneself, in ones head, is not a really weird, sick thing to be doing.

I find it very difficult to answer this question. My opinion is that there is no rational answer. There is no reason why we should, or do, talk to ourselves. The reason why we self speak is emotional, libininal or rational only from the point of view of evolution.

We can tell ourselves nothing. Our self speach is not an expression of chimerical "ideas". It is not practice for speaking to other people. It is not will, not causitive. But we do it.

Our self speach has macroscopic but but not microscopic effects. We think that we "will" with our self speach, and make decisions, but Nisbett, and Libett show us that we do not. On the other hand the macroscopic effect is real. The fact that we self-speak, and believe erroneously in its microscopic efficacy, stabilizes us, moralises us, makes us more pro social. Our practice of self-speach makes us stable, social animals, with great evolutionary benefits.

The reason why I keep talking to myself is because on the one hand, it keeps me social, and on ther other hand because is a form of masturbation or self-love. There are no cognitive benefits. It is also not "will" as decision making pneuma. It is not carried out as a practice or rehersal - though some times it may be. It is carried out because it is felt to be fun. It turns us on. It is a self comforting. Our addicition to self-comforting, makes us pro-social.

Derrida, J. (1987). The Post Card: From Socrates to Freud and Beyond. (A. Bass, Trans.) (First Edition). University Of Chicago Press.
Freud, S. (1913). Totem and taboo. (A. A. Brill, Trans.). New York: Moffat, Yard and Company. Retrieved from en.wikisource.org/wiki/Totem_and_Taboo
Lacan, J. (1993). The Psychoses. The Seminar of Jacques Lacan. Book III 1955–1956. Edited by Jacques-Alain Miller. Translated by Russell Grigg. London: Routledge.

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The Girl with a Dragon Tattoo and the Structure of My Self: A Robo-Woman and an All Seeing Man in me

The Girl with a Dragon Tattoo and the Structure of My Self: A Robo-Woman and an All Seeing Man in me

I think that the structure of my self is rather like that of "The Girl with a Dragon Tattoo" (Trailer,Trailer #2). I think I contain a fantasy of a controlled, hollow, abused Lisbeth/Nikita woman who works as the medium, or intermediary for a man with super-sight, who is trying to be a detective. The most horrible thing about the structure is that since these roles take place inside me (no wonder Lisbeth looks pissed off), it is also auto-erotic transsexualism, and then some. For this reason I think that the super duo of Lisbeth and Cal Lighthouse in the above photo, are generally accompanied by a sex criminal in many of the detective series in which detectives and their intermediaries feature. [Why is it that about 10 million Americans watch sex criminals get their come-uppance a week on one series, Law and Order: Special Victims Unit, alone?]

First to recap, there are many US mystery series featuring men, and more frequently recently women, who are in contact with supernatural phenomena (The Dead Zone, The Listener, , The X-Files, Seeing Things, The Medium, Tru Calling, Ghost Whisperer), of women that act as intermediaries for men whose power of perception is almost supernatural (Lie to Me, Monk, The Mentalist, Millenium, The X-Files), and there are recently an increasing number of Nikita type violent, abused, hollow women controlled by men (Nikita, Nikita, Dark Angel, Alias, Dollhouse, etc). Many of these heroes kill or put greedy, especially sexually greedy, criminals behind bars.

In the USA there are many more types of television series. Here in Japan, these three genres stand out as being particularly well represented. I am of the opinion that these genres are well represented because they are the most popular in the US, rather than their being particularly popular in Japan.

The reason why I think that these television series may have something to do with the structure of myself is because I have seen them both. The structure of myself was far more horrifying and icky that even the nasties scenes in The Girl with a Dragon Tatoo, so I will try and be theoretical first.

The Self in Social Psychology

Factoring in William James, George Herbert Mead explains how the human self is formed, from three parts: the I or consciousness, the me, the idea we have of ourselves with whom we identify, and the internalised "generalised other" from which perspective we see the "me."

The first and second of these elements (consciousness, and my idea of me) are fairly easy to confirm. Mead's "generalised other" (Freud's "super ego", Bakhtin's "super adressee", Lacan's "Other," Adam Smith's "Invisible hand" and "impartial observer") is much more contraversial.

That there is consciousness, even if I can say nothing about it, seems pretty clear. When I am awake there is not nothing. When I dream, the lights come on as it were. I may be able to say very little about this "great blooming, buzzing confusion,h but I feel that I can not deny it. Generally speaking I am more inclined to think of consciousness as the world, or evidence of the world -- the lights, sounds, hot and cold -- but at the same time perhaps, especially but not only, as a child, "consciousness"may also be said to be who "I" really am.

And at the same time I have notions of who I am very separate from consciousness - a bald old Englishman living in Japan, which a certain age, family, house, and face. That is "me."

What is the "generalised other," and where is it hiding?

First of all Mead argues that in order to gain an idea who "me" is then I need to take an objective view point upon myself. Mead argues that unless we are carrying a mirror, or permanently in front of an audience, our ability to gain an objective idea of ourselves depends upon our ability to express who we are in language and understand our language from the point of view of other listeners.This ability to hear ones own self-referential, self addressed language, such as "I am bald" as said to myself, and to know when one has not said the truth, allows us to form a linguistic model of who we are. Language, Mead presumes, provides us with a mirror of internalised other. Mead argues, as do Hermans and Kempen (who base their analysis on the Bakhtin's linguistics), that we are always speaking to others in our heads. People talk to their friends, their family, their workmates, and all those that they are likely to meet, in their heads all the time. And we are able to judge when these our imaginary friends would not agree with what we are saying. In the complete absence of any audience, real or imagined, I could claim that "I have loads of hair", or anything, even that "I am Elvis Presley," and it would not matter because there would be no one there to disagree with me. But since we do speak to others even if they are imaginary others, we imagine our audience's understanding of our words, their reaction, and know when we are speaking bullshit.

But while many of us may accept that we often imagine that we are speaking to, or thinking to other people, what of the *generalised* other. As far as I am aware Mead only explains the need for a generalised as a cognitive requirement. If we see ourselves only from the viewpoints of our friends, then we will see ourselves as rather nicer than we are from the point of view of our enemies. If we see ourselves from the point of view of our enemies, we see ourselves rather more negatively than our friends see us, and rather more negatively than we in fact are, because presumably we are that person at the intersection of these various viewpoints rather than as understood from any one subjective position.

So far so good. We may be able to accept that we address ourselves to a variety of imaginary friends. And that unless we understand our self speech from the point of view of a view from an objective, generalised position then we will not have an ongoing objective understanding of ourselves. However this explanation would not prevent us from "generalising" after the fact, or "off line". In other words we might model the understanding of our friends and family, our detractors and various people in the street, and perform some sort of averaging only afterward. Is it clear that we need to model a generalised other, in real time?

Bakhtin argues that even as we are speaking to real or imaginary friends and all manner of second person addressees, we also imagine that there is another person listening to what we have to say, since otherwise our meaning would be limited by the understanding of our real or imagined listener. Being so limited to specific others (be they real or imagined) would be, he argues, hellish. We would be trapped in web of relationships unable to be anyone but that which our others understand us to be. To escape from this hell, which is other people, we continually model a super-addressee which corresponds I believe to Mead's generalized other.

Bakhtin's "hell" starts to sound more persuasive but all the same, phenomenologically where is the generalized other in my head? I can feel myself simulating my friends. Why can't I feel myself simulating a generalised other?

I think that theists may find the answer to this question very easy. Theists typically feel that they are addressing a generalised other, who sees them from an objective viewpoint, in the form of their God. Of course for a theist it is not a question of simulating a generalised listener, but rather that there is one, and as such perhaps theists are always conscious of the meaning of their words, truthfully and honestly in the understanding of an ever present "impartial spectator." This latter term was that used by the economist (of Lutheran upbringing) Adam Smith. This is all very well for theists but, when I am not dabbling in theism, and even when I do, I do not find myself aware, or strikingly aware, of a God as generalised other, impartial spectator, or super-addressee. If this super-addressee was felt ever present, then for instance, would there be so many atheists and agnostics, and would they be so militant in their denial of God? If a super-addressee were clearly ever present in our psyche then the atheists among us would be more likely to say "Oh, yeah, that. (S)he is only my simulation of a generalised other, not any supernatural being." Calling that entity God or a mental simulation would become almost a question of nomenclature. It seems to me however that most atheists are not aware of any such "super-addressee," listening in on their thoughts, modelled by themselves, far less directly and supernaturally bugging their brain.

To Bakhtin's "hell", and Mead's need for objective self awareness, I think that there are a couple of other reasons why we need a generalised other and why it should be something that we are commonly unaware of it.

First of all applying Arimasa Mori's cultural theory, it may become clear that a generalised other is a requirement for my identification with my "me". That we should identify (and it is not clear what "identify" means) which any idea or conception that we have of ourselves is strange. Why would anyone identify with a self-concept if they are aware that it is a conceptualisation?

This kind of question has been asked for instance by philosophers and psychologists in the field of narrative psychology. It is clear that we do narrate ourselves, do think to and narrate ourselves, about who we are and what we are doing, but why should we, or do we, identify with that which is described in the narrative? Why does our self-cognition not remain on the level of self-hypothesis, a fiction about ourselves that may or not be correct. Why do we believe in that our self0narration, or the me therein described is ourselves? Or why do we believe that there is a underlying, ongoing entity that conforms to some static linguistic cognition of self?

Arimasa Mori argues the way in which first person pronouns and first person self-representations depend on the second person of Japanese speech - that there is no "third person" (Mori's word for the generalised other), results in an absence of self on ongoing and independent self among Japanese. IF being is to be understood, and self-understanding is dependent upon other understanding, then in the radical absence of others would, not our ability to identify with an ongoing independent self be switching on and off. Hence, if we believe in an ongoing self independent of social situation, then this may imply the presumed presence of a "third person perspective."

Here ends my attempt at theoretical analysis.

Finally, while the connection is somewhat tenuous, the structure of the television series outlined above remind me of my experience of the structure of my self, which fell apart and became visible about a quarter of a century ago when I felt (and I think I did) go mad. I have written this before, but I think that it is a good idea to write it again.

My experience was momentary and my memory is not as good as it used to be, but I still find it instructive. I think that I should have tried harder to share the experience with other people. The reason why I have not blogged or otherwise written about the experience is because I found the experience particularly disgusting. As I said above, and this is the first part of the analogy between "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo" and the structure of myself, they both appeared to have very harrowing elements. The movie was stressful, but watching the movie was a walk in the park by comparison to my experience of the parts of myself. After that fleeting experience 25 years aog, I found myself traumatised for about 6 months afterwards, and indeed for the rest of my life. Here I am an old man, still talking about an experience I had when I was about 22. And at the same time, the reason why I am still talking about the experience was because it was, and to an extent remains, so difficult, so disgusting as to make it difficult to talk about.

Of course, my experience may have been of only the structure of my particular self, but as I see these often extremely violent, and sexually twisted television series and movies proliferate I wonder if, at last, my experience was more universalisable than I had initially thought. I thought I was just simply a mad **** at the time. But here lies, the most important thing about what I have to say: it is possible that the self appears to be a unity to most people, and its structure indivisible, and invisible, because that structure is, or would be, to most people, so utterly disgusting. Far more so than the worst scenes in "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo."

So here is my experience again. I find it easiest to explain my experience with the analogy of a ventriloquist since in retrospect it seems very similar. When my self fell apart, into its parts, I felt that I was experiencing a ventriloquism act with the following parts: (1) an enormous consciousness of proportion so vast as to be other-worldly (2) a listening persona (2) A speaking persona.

I felt the enormous consciousness, for a flash of an instant, to be my true self. It seemed that this enormous consciousness was engaging in something similar to a ventriloquism act in that he was throwing his voice and pretending to hear that voice from the perspective of a third person.

When looking at a ventriloquist's stage act we can forget that ventriloquists are pretending to be two people. ventriloquists fabulate two people. We notice that they are "throwing their voice" and giving their dummy a life of its own. We may forget however, even as we are watching a ventriloquist, that the real stage performer is usually pretending to be not only the dummy, but also pretending to be another persona by putting on feigned belief in the dummy, and fabulating or feigning a character that listens to and banters with the dummy's remarks.

The experience thus far can largely be understood by reference to one of Nina Conti's ventriloquism acts, where she makes it clear that one need not use a dummy to perform ventriloquism, and even suggests that the dummy-less-dummy or voice, is as real as the listener.

And so it was with my experience. It was *not* that I became aware of the "dummy". The "dummy" or rather just my interior narrative was myself, the self that I generally (these days and then) thought myself to be. I heard myself speak/think in much the same way as I always speak/think. The difference was that I suddenly realised who I was speaking to and why. I became aware of the act that the massive ventriloquists putting on, the listener that feigns interest. The worst part about it was the act that I was performing, for myself, "in my head", was auto-erotic, transsexual, and then some -- it was also incestuous.

"The Girl with a Dragon Tattoo," stopped short of portraying real incest and of course the incest that I discovered in my head (my soul/psyche/self) was not real. Lisbeth was a ward of the state and she was raped by her guardian. The Lisbeth-gardian parent-child relationship was in name only, but their sex was real. I found that I was chatting up a woman, not unlike a Listbeth or Nikita, that I was simulated in my head who was clearly based upon my own mother. I was cross-dressing as it were mentally and feigning a female listener to my self-narrative. While this listener never spoke, her (my) unspoken reaction to my self speak was clearly sympathetic, loving, in a mother-child and at the same time romantic way. I felt like the murderer in the famous Hitchcock movie, Psycho except that instead of dressing up as my mother, I was creating her in my brain.

The enormous consciousness that was witnessing the whole event was entirely aware of what was going on and he was disgusted, with me the speaker that I guess he was also inventing. Somehow, strangely, in that experience the blame fell on the narratival voice (me) despite the fact that, presumably, it was the consciousness that was pulling all the strings, and behind all the parts. Nonetheless that enormity was disgusted and angry with the nasty little voice and the hollow woman that he had in his mind.

That was most of my experience. Does my experience have anything other than one warped individual, or does it bear any similarity with the structure of the programs I am analysing, other than the fact that popular television series often have sexually twisted antagonists?

The greatest similarity for me between my experience and the television series is not the detectives but the women as mediums, intermediaries and Nikitas. The woman that I was fabulating, as my internal listener, was disgusting only because she turned out to be myself. I loved that fantasy with an expectant longing brighter and purer than the sun. It was only when she turned out to be myself that the passion and purity of my love, precisely because it was felt to be so passionate and pure, that the whole thing became so disgusting. My internal doll, my cranial perfect woman, had a distinct similarity to the characters portrayed in my previous blog posts -- to the Lisbeth's and Nikita's of modern fiction. It may help a little, perhaps, that I remembered my mother as a young woman as a rather spiky, depressive, and in some senses dark individual. The important point is not the reality but how I fabulated my mother. I think to a large extent I fabulated her as a Nikita, killa, wild, abused, fighting girl. In my experienced I realised that my listener was a fantasy and in that sense, hollow, programmed, a sort of doll, or robot, or alias, like many of the Nikita types that are seen on TV.

It seems to me that I have identified in my experience of 1/4 of a century ago, a sort of sex criminal and a hollow, programmed intermediary of a Nikita type figure.

Finally what of the super-sighed genius "Monk," or "Patrick Jane." To an extent the giant person that I discovered was a bit like that, the all seeing consciousness, the supernatural being (supernatural only in so far as he was not a voice-puppet) upon which Nikita was superimposed upon as a mask, that Nikita acted as a "Medium" for that entity which Nikita hid, just as she alone saw.

So I wonder if anyone else has a psyche as disgusting as mine, or whether I am just seeing coincidences where there aren't any.

Having reread it seems to me that there is no way that I am going to persuade anyone that my self-structure is anything but an anomaly unless I give more reasons as to why it should be universal for theoretical reasons and or by seeking links between the genres of video that I am analysing.

There are several things that do not match up.

My female fantasy listened rather than spoke, but the female Medium or intermediary is often the spokesperson for the super or supernatural male.

The sex-criminal in my self-fantasy was felt to by speech (made human) or perhaps my giant consciousness self. The criminals in US television series do not necessarily speak, the Monk-like all seeing consciousness like detectives do not involve themselves in sex at all.

The other thing is, that my experience of the breakdown of myself was accompanied by my realisation that I was gay. I assumed therefore that non-gay persons would have different persona in their selves. I thought that heterosexual men might be modelling their father rather than their young, Nikita-like fantasy mother. The fact that I felt myself to be gay at the time I had my falling apart experience may reduce the applicability of the structure that I became aware of. I am not sure how.

The take-home conclusion of this post is, imho, we watch so many TV series about hollowed out abused girls, who are mediums and intermediaries for super savant males, that kill sex criminals because The Truth is in Here.

I have had another idea about why the woman is a murderer based upon Graham Swift's novel "The Light of Day," another book in this genre. Obvious really.

Images are copyright their respective copyright holders. Please please comment below or contact me via nihonbunka.com to have my remove any of these images.

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