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Sunday, 31 October 2010
Friday, 27 August 2010
The Crazy Factor
For anyone interested in people, the auditions for the TV talent show The X-Factor are essential viewing. People who clearly have no talent for singing queue in their thousands for a chance of fame. Why? Is it just for a laugh? A more exciting pastime than just mooching round the shops for the day? A desire to be seen on television just for the glory? (Life certainly seems to be fulfilling Andy Warhol’s 1968 prophecy “In the future everyone will be famous for fifteen minutes.”) Are they deluded, genuinely believing that their tuneless croaking sounds good? Have they been the victims of a family conspiracy that refuses to tell them the honest truth about themselves? Or do they have mental health problems that mean they are out of touch with reality?
Sometimes it is easy to spot the answer. A cheery wave and a laugh to the camera from a glory-hound who just wanted his few minutes of fame. A look of shock and betrayal on the face of someone who has never been told the truth. The rage of a young man who for the zillionth time in his life has been told he’s useless. The distress of a girl whose fantasy has just come crashing down, as though the handsome Prince has looked up at her in the window of her tower and exclaimed “Sheesh, you’re ugly” – and ridden on.
So many little cameos of shocked self-realisation. These are emotions I see all the time in my therapy room. But there I am providing a supportive environment where people can safely dismantle false perceptions of self. The X-Factor, by contrast, is brutal. Two minutes to spread your wings and allow your dream to take flight, and then for most a brutal firing-squad as you are shot down in flames.
It is fascinating television, which often leaves me sad and sometimes feeling rather guilty, embarrassed at being a voyeur of the crumbling of young dreams.
The disappointed many return to reality. Some will have support as they pick up the pieces, others will not. The X-Factor seems to have started to realise the implications of this, probably as a result of Susan Boyle, star of 2009’s Britain’s Got Talent show, apparently having a nervous breakdown in the face of intense media pressure. Consequently they have thrown out one of this year’s successful auditioners, Shirlena Johnson, over concerns about her mental health.
If you didn’t see Shirlena’s performance of Duffy’s hit ‘Mercy’, then you missed one of the best performances ever on a pop talent show. Pop? Well, it’s pop, Jim, but not as we know it. Shirlena’s rendition discarded Duffy’s lyrics and replaced them with her own stream-of-consciousness words; it was emotionally intense, mesmerising. I was absolutely engaged, rivetted. It wasn’t pop – it was a truly shamanic performance.
Simon Cowell’s reaction was 'You are completely crazy but I like that. You are fantastically nuts.' From a quick trawl round the internet, that seems to be the general opinion. Some loved her performance, others found it terrible, but everyone seems to agree that she’s crazy.
Well, here’s one dissenting voice. She’s not crazy – well, no more than any of us are.
What is ‘crazy’?
Mental health is not a clearly-defined concept. It can be defined negatively as the absence of a major mental disorder, or more positively as the ability to find satisfaction in work, play and loving relationships.
That sounds fairly reasonable, but people go through life never having had a truly fulfilling relationship; never discover their dreams and work towards fulfilling them; never rise above being a wage-slave surviving hand-to-mouth; and leave play behind in childhood.
And how safe is our definition of mental illness? It is well-known that the mental health system has historically been used as a form of social control. For example, women used to be put into insane asylums because of their promiscuity. Many people have been labelled as having a borderline personality disorder for simply not following socially acceptable behaviour. Of course there are genuine mental illnesses, but mental health is generally regarded as a continuum, a spectrum of behaviours.
When you strip away all the jargon, mental health is effectively defined as the ability to function within this society.
‘Sanity’ is a socially-defined concept.
In other times, other places, crazy people were regarded as having been touched by the gods. They were cared for within the community, even regarded as having the ability to step in between this world and alternative realties – shamans, in other words. Psychologists who have worked with acculturative stress (culture shock), especially where ‘primitive’ societies come into contact with Western technology-led consumerism see this more clearly than we do.
In 21st century Britain there is no room for shamans. In the world of manufactured pop entertainment, there is no room for Shirlena.
Normality is what we consider normal. It actually has little to do with health – and if you think our society is either psychologically healthy or actively promotes emotional well-being, then I have to say - you really are crazy.
Sometimes it is easy to spot the answer. A cheery wave and a laugh to the camera from a glory-hound who just wanted his few minutes of fame. A look of shock and betrayal on the face of someone who has never been told the truth. The rage of a young man who for the zillionth time in his life has been told he’s useless. The distress of a girl whose fantasy has just come crashing down, as though the handsome Prince has looked up at her in the window of her tower and exclaimed “Sheesh, you’re ugly” – and ridden on.
So many little cameos of shocked self-realisation. These are emotions I see all the time in my therapy room. But there I am providing a supportive environment where people can safely dismantle false perceptions of self. The X-Factor, by contrast, is brutal. Two minutes to spread your wings and allow your dream to take flight, and then for most a brutal firing-squad as you are shot down in flames.
It is fascinating television, which often leaves me sad and sometimes feeling rather guilty, embarrassed at being a voyeur of the crumbling of young dreams.
The disappointed many return to reality. Some will have support as they pick up the pieces, others will not. The X-Factor seems to have started to realise the implications of this, probably as a result of Susan Boyle, star of 2009’s Britain’s Got Talent show, apparently having a nervous breakdown in the face of intense media pressure. Consequently they have thrown out one of this year’s successful auditioners, Shirlena Johnson, over concerns about her mental health.
If you didn’t see Shirlena’s performance of Duffy’s hit ‘Mercy’, then you missed one of the best performances ever on a pop talent show. Pop? Well, it’s pop, Jim, but not as we know it. Shirlena’s rendition discarded Duffy’s lyrics and replaced them with her own stream-of-consciousness words; it was emotionally intense, mesmerising. I was absolutely engaged, rivetted. It wasn’t pop – it was a truly shamanic performance.
Simon Cowell’s reaction was 'You are completely crazy but I like that. You are fantastically nuts.' From a quick trawl round the internet, that seems to be the general opinion. Some loved her performance, others found it terrible, but everyone seems to agree that she’s crazy.
Well, here’s one dissenting voice. She’s not crazy – well, no more than any of us are.
What is ‘crazy’?
Mental health is not a clearly-defined concept. It can be defined negatively as the absence of a major mental disorder, or more positively as the ability to find satisfaction in work, play and loving relationships.
That sounds fairly reasonable, but people go through life never having had a truly fulfilling relationship; never discover their dreams and work towards fulfilling them; never rise above being a wage-slave surviving hand-to-mouth; and leave play behind in childhood.
And how safe is our definition of mental illness? It is well-known that the mental health system has historically been used as a form of social control. For example, women used to be put into insane asylums because of their promiscuity. Many people have been labelled as having a borderline personality disorder for simply not following socially acceptable behaviour. Of course there are genuine mental illnesses, but mental health is generally regarded as a continuum, a spectrum of behaviours.
When you strip away all the jargon, mental health is effectively defined as the ability to function within this society.
‘Sanity’ is a socially-defined concept.
In other times, other places, crazy people were regarded as having been touched by the gods. They were cared for within the community, even regarded as having the ability to step in between this world and alternative realties – shamans, in other words. Psychologists who have worked with acculturative stress (culture shock), especially where ‘primitive’ societies come into contact with Western technology-led consumerism see this more clearly than we do.
In 21st century Britain there is no room for shamans. In the world of manufactured pop entertainment, there is no room for Shirlena.
Normality is what we consider normal. It actually has little to do with health – and if you think our society is either psychologically healthy or actively promotes emotional well-being, then I have to say - you really are crazy.
Labels:
mental health,
mercy,
sanity,
shamanism,
Shirlena,
simon cowell,
x-Factor
Thursday, 31 December 2009
Wassail!
Midwinter festivals are perhaps one of the very oldest human traditions. Over the previous few months the power of the sun has been waning, but now, although there may be long and cold winter months ahead, the decline has been halted and the sun is slowly regaining strength.
In South America, the Incas would symbolically tie the sun to a post to prevent it from escaping completely and plunging the world into perpetual darkness. The Roman festival of Brumalia was a month-long party that ended on 25 December, held in honour of Bacchus, the god of wine and ecstatic ritual. In Japan, the story is that the sun goddess Amaterasu had hidden herself away in cave and the other gods tricked her into emerging by holding a noisy party. In Iran, the popular festival of Shab-e Chelleh has been held for at least 4000 years, with its roots in ancient Persian celebrations of the birth of Mithra, the god of truth and light, born of a virgin mother.
Here in England we have Christmas, the Christian story laid over earlier pagan Yule festivities, giving us a sometimes strange mixture: a child born in a manger and 3 wise men (Persian astrologers), alongside decorated fir trees and Yule logs (now commonly chocolate, but once real logs burned in honour of Thor, the god of thunder). And, in some places, wassailing.
In Saxon times, people commonly greeted each other by saying “Waes hael,” a phrase meaning “be healthy.” This developed into a toast at meals, to which the usual response was “drinc hael” (“drink and be healthy”). Saxon gradually morphed into the English language under the influence of Norman French, and by the 12th century the phrase had come to refer to various activities associated with the midwinter festivities, especially those involving the consumption of copious amounts of spiced ale or mulled cider. So ‘wassailing’ might involve trick-or-treat visits around the village in expectation of food and drink. At parties a wassail bowl or cup would be passed around; you would take a drink, then turn to someone, bid them “wassail!” then with a kiss pass them the cup. The more the cup travelled round, the more passionate and rowdy things became…
In rural areas, the wassailing tradition included offering a libation to the orchards: some of the mulled cider would be poured at the roots of apple trees as a fertility offering. In the 12th century, it must be remembered, the rural English were still fundamentally pagan; it was only during this period that the Normans consolidated their power and made Christianity the predominant religion. If you were Anglo-Saxon and wanted to be part of the establishment, you had to adopt Norman ways. Wassailing ceremonies to celebrate the health of orchards are still held to this day, especially in cider-producing areas such as Somerset and Devon.
What does this time mean for us in our personal lives?
While many of the midwinter festivals celebrate the rebirth of the sun, I feel that perhaps their rollicking nature (typified by the Roman Brumalia) also to some extent was an expression of defiance of the darkness. Nature is a force majeure, a power beyond human control. For all our electricity, if the sun were to fail we would all die. This is as true for us as for our peasant forebears. We need to feel in control of our lives, but by cosmic standards we are powerless. We enjoy our independence, our autonomy as adults, yet we are utterly dependent on so much. Not just nature, but also other people: the engineers who run power plants, the farmers who grow our food, the truckers who transport goods, the staff who run the supermarkets, the binmen who collect our waste… How long would most of us survive if everyone else disappeared?
For many this has been a difficult year; in some respects it has almost been winter every day, a dark time and lacking in cheer. If right now you are full of fear and doubt, then – just for today – eat, drink and be merry. Reach out to others and remember that the sun will return.
Monday, 9 November 2009
Grief, life and meaning
Today I read such a sad news story on the BBC website (http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/west_yorkshire/8349764.stm.) The funeral service was held yesterday for nurse Helen Smith who died tragically in 1979. No, that date isn't a typo, and yes, I am writing this in 2009. The funeral was held 30 years after her death.
Her father, Ron Smith, thought the circumstances of her death were suspicious and refused to allow the funeral until he proved his theory that she had been murdered. But now, at the age of 83, Ron finally decided to hold the funeral before he himself dies (he is suffering from kidney disease and requires dialysis 4 times a week).
His desire to discover the truth became an obsession - in his own words he pursued the matter "relentlessly." As a result, he is estranged from his ex-wife and their 3 other children, has lost his friends and leads a solitary existence. And even though he has now permitted the funeral, he has no intention of stopping but intends to continue his campaign until he succeeds or dies.
As a parent myself, I feel that the death of one's child must be the most devastating blow. I hope and pray that I never find out myself what it must feel like. I'm sure that one never truly forgets. And yet Life is for living. Life is for the living. When we are wounded we scream, weep, mourn, berate Fate or God, get angry, depressed... and then we come through the blackness. We reach daylight. And if the sun doesn't seem so bright and the shadows are darker than they once were, so be it.
Ron Smith got lost in trying to find make sense of it all. "I'm not really concerned about people's emotions or about my emotions, I'm concerned about facts," he said.
Refusing to express painful emotions, repressing memories and denying reality are all ways that we hold onto toxic material. These eventually manifest in the body in disease. The main function of the kidneys is to filter the blood and remove toxic substances that would otherwise poison the body, excreting them in urine. In not coming to terms with his emotions, I feel that Ron Smith has just pissed his life away instead.
And this is what is so sad. I'm sure he loved his daughter. But he had living people to love too: family and friends, all of whom were wanting love & support and were willing to offer it too. He chose to turn his back on them, to pursue facts rather than feeling. He thought he could find answers. But there is no point seeking meaning in Death. There is none. It is merely the context in which we exist. There is no life without death, just as there is no light without dark. If we are wise we enjoy the sunshine, knowing that one day night will fall. We should mourn the dead then leave the graveyard, because all too soon it will be our turn to go and not come back.
Her father, Ron Smith, thought the circumstances of her death were suspicious and refused to allow the funeral until he proved his theory that she had been murdered. But now, at the age of 83, Ron finally decided to hold the funeral before he himself dies (he is suffering from kidney disease and requires dialysis 4 times a week).
His desire to discover the truth became an obsession - in his own words he pursued the matter "relentlessly." As a result, he is estranged from his ex-wife and their 3 other children, has lost his friends and leads a solitary existence. And even though he has now permitted the funeral, he has no intention of stopping but intends to continue his campaign until he succeeds or dies.
As a parent myself, I feel that the death of one's child must be the most devastating blow. I hope and pray that I never find out myself what it must feel like. I'm sure that one never truly forgets. And yet Life is for living. Life is for the living. When we are wounded we scream, weep, mourn, berate Fate or God, get angry, depressed... and then we come through the blackness. We reach daylight. And if the sun doesn't seem so bright and the shadows are darker than they once were, so be it.
Ron Smith got lost in trying to find make sense of it all. "I'm not really concerned about people's emotions or about my emotions, I'm concerned about facts," he said.
Refusing to express painful emotions, repressing memories and denying reality are all ways that we hold onto toxic material. These eventually manifest in the body in disease. The main function of the kidneys is to filter the blood and remove toxic substances that would otherwise poison the body, excreting them in urine. In not coming to terms with his emotions, I feel that Ron Smith has just pissed his life away instead.
And this is what is so sad. I'm sure he loved his daughter. But he had living people to love too: family and friends, all of whom were wanting love & support and were willing to offer it too. He chose to turn his back on them, to pursue facts rather than feeling. He thought he could find answers. But there is no point seeking meaning in Death. There is none. It is merely the context in which we exist. There is no life without death, just as there is no light without dark. If we are wise we enjoy the sunshine, knowing that one day night will fall. We should mourn the dead then leave the graveyard, because all too soon it will be our turn to go and not come back.
Labels:
body psychotherapy,
death,
grief,
helen smith,
kidneys
Monday, 2 November 2009
Eczema, teeth and buttocks
My grandfather had wonderful teeth. He was a handsome man, but the one feature my grandmother adored was his lovely smile. He was also fortunate to be one of the lucky young men who actually survived World War 1. Just under 900,000 UK soldiers met their death in that awful conflict. Bad enough - but spare a thought for what was then the Kingdom of Serbia, where an estimated 16% of the entire population was killed.
But I digress.
My grandfather, then, survived the war, although he was wounded in the buttock. He survived and his beautiful teeth charmed a young lady, and three children resulted (my mother being the first). But life wasn't all sweetness and light. My grandfather developed eczema and stomach troubles. The doctor tried various treatments, but none were successful. So they decided it was all caused by 'bad teeth.' Apparently, that was the thing in those days. Teeth could cause all sorts of ailments, even if they were apparently healthy.
So - terrible day - the doctors insisted that the only cure would be for my grandfather to have all his teeth extracted. And extracted they duly were. Did it cure the eczema and the stomach troubles? I'll give you three guesses - and a hint that the answer begins with the letter 'n'... Of course it ddin't cure anything. My grandfather continued to suffer from eczema and stomach troubles, but now lived without his beautful teeth.
Then about 1935, his old war wound flared up and he developed an abcess on the buttock. Eventually it burst - and a piece of shrapnel came out. It must have been embedded there for about 18 years. The abcess healed up - and so did his eczema and stomach troubles. The shrapnel must have been poisoning his entire system. His teeth had been sacrificed for nothing.
Medical science has progressed since then. But it's not perfect. It's hard to imagine a day when there will be nothing more to learn, no further progress to be made. And doctors, however wonderful a job they do, are human and fallible. Me, I like to think that a really good bodyworker (had they existed in his day) would have found the root of the problem and saved my grandfather's beautiful teeth. I think our bodies hold a great deal of wisdom - if we would only listen. So if you have a chronic condition, listen to your body before you take any drastic action.
But I digress.
My grandfather, then, survived the war, although he was wounded in the buttock. He survived and his beautiful teeth charmed a young lady, and three children resulted (my mother being the first). But life wasn't all sweetness and light. My grandfather developed eczema and stomach troubles. The doctor tried various treatments, but none were successful. So they decided it was all caused by 'bad teeth.' Apparently, that was the thing in those days. Teeth could cause all sorts of ailments, even if they were apparently healthy.
So - terrible day - the doctors insisted that the only cure would be for my grandfather to have all his teeth extracted. And extracted they duly were. Did it cure the eczema and the stomach troubles? I'll give you three guesses - and a hint that the answer begins with the letter 'n'... Of course it ddin't cure anything. My grandfather continued to suffer from eczema and stomach troubles, but now lived without his beautful teeth.
Then about 1935, his old war wound flared up and he developed an abcess on the buttock. Eventually it burst - and a piece of shrapnel came out. It must have been embedded there for about 18 years. The abcess healed up - and so did his eczema and stomach troubles. The shrapnel must have been poisoning his entire system. His teeth had been sacrificed for nothing.
Medical science has progressed since then. But it's not perfect. It's hard to imagine a day when there will be nothing more to learn, no further progress to be made. And doctors, however wonderful a job they do, are human and fallible. Me, I like to think that a really good bodyworker (had they existed in his day) would have found the root of the problem and saved my grandfather's beautiful teeth. I think our bodies hold a great deal of wisdom - if we would only listen. So if you have a chronic condition, listen to your body before you take any drastic action.
Labels:
body psychotherapy,
bodywork,
buttocks,
eczema,
sharpnel,
teeth,
war wound,
world war 1
Friday, 30 October 2009
Samhain
Unless you've been on a retreat in some desolate spot you can't fail to have noticed the shops are full of witchy hats, ghoulish masks and skeleton costumes. Yes, Halloween is here. Halloween has its roots in the ancient Celtic festival of Samhain (pronounced 'sowin' ) which meant "summer's end". At Samhain people would assess the year's harvest and see what they had and needed to get them through the coming dark days of winter. It was also believed that this was the time when the veil between the living world and the spirit world was at its thinnest. Summer is clearly over, winter has not yet begun: this was very much a time to 'take stock.' And although few of us now live close to the land and the seasons like the ancient inhabitants of this country, this is something we can usefully do in our own way.
You might like to ask yourself:
Such reflections seem more appropriate this year than in previous ones. We live in a society where materialism tends to covers up the cracks: people can ignore their unhappiness as long as they can go shopping. With the economic downturn - and the shocking suddenness of the meltdown - many people are struggling and feeling insecure, and are finding that when the external world gets turned upside-down it calls for a re-evaluation of our lives and priorities. This is a good time to invest in yourself.
If you are wanting support as you examine your life, I can help you. I work on the basis of ability to pay, so offer reduced fees for those on lower incomes and for long-term commitments. Visit my therapy website http://www.richardlawton.net to find out more.
You might like to ask yourself:
- What have I harvested this past year? What plans or goals came to fruition? Which didn't - and why?
- What resources (financial, emotional, psychological) do I have right now? Are they sufficient to get me through the coming months?
- What about the ghosts of your past? Literal or metaphorical - what is your relationship with them? Have you laid them to rest or do they haunt you?
Such reflections seem more appropriate this year than in previous ones. We live in a society where materialism tends to covers up the cracks: people can ignore their unhappiness as long as they can go shopping. With the economic downturn - and the shocking suddenness of the meltdown - many people are struggling and feeling insecure, and are finding that when the external world gets turned upside-down it calls for a re-evaluation of our lives and priorities. This is a good time to invest in yourself.
If you are wanting support as you examine your life, I can help you. I work on the basis of ability to pay, so offer reduced fees for those on lower incomes and for long-term commitments. Visit my therapy website http://www.richardlawton.net to find out more.
Thursday, 20 August 2009
Sex in Room 101
Continuing my perusal of the Sexual Offences Act 2003 (see previous "Reckless Sex" blog), I find this section:
62 Committing an offence with intent to commit a sexual offence
(1) A person commits an offence under this section if he commits any offence with the intention of committing a relevant sexual offence.
This section seems to me rather worrying in terms of civil liberties. Note the words "any offence". It appears to mean that someone can be found guilty of an offence they have actually not committed. Granted that many offences covered by this law are despicable (rape, child abuse), I am nonetheless profoundly uncomfortable when the law regards 'intent' as precisely equivalent to 'action'. How can this be? I am not sure what scenarios this section was intended to cover, but it opens the door to Kafkaesque possibilities. It's not all that difficult to imagine a combination of circumstances whereby a trivial offence becomes an accusation of intent to commit a sexual offence. For example:
Mr X simply cannot get tickets to a gig by his favourite band. In a moment of desperation, he goes to the venue and climbs in through a small window. Unfortunately, it's the window to the ladies toilets. Someone reports it to Security and they call the police. The police arrest him on a charge of voyeurism. Even if there is no evidence at all that he has committed an act of voyeurism, the police could argue that he entered the premises not to see the band but to commit an act of voyeurism. If he had a camera or mobile phone in his possession (quite likely with fans at gigs), that would be even more damning.
Under this law, an offence committed with intent to commit a sexual offence is regarded as the same as the act itself. In this case, his 'unlawful entry' into the venue could result in a prison sentence of 2 years for voyeurism. Unlikely? Yes, I agree. But I can easily envisage abuse of this provision - and the nightmare of having to defend oneself against a charge of intent.
I have no legal training, and am just reading this through layman's eyes. I do not know if I have totally misunderstood - I hope so. Nor do I know what proof is required of 'intent.' I would be pleased if a any legal expert reading this could clarify matters.
I have no wish to make life easy for those who commit serious sexual offences. However, once 'intent' is enshrined in law as equivalent to 'action' I feel we are on a very slippery slope. Am I the only one who worries about how a hard-line government might use this? We have already seen the Prevention of Terrorism Act misued to arrest people (for example, a protestor at a Labour Party conference).
If you haven't read George Orwell's '1984' go and read it at once. We might all end up in Room 101.
62 Committing an offence with intent to commit a sexual offence
(1) A person commits an offence under this section if he commits any offence with the intention of committing a relevant sexual offence.
This section seems to me rather worrying in terms of civil liberties. Note the words "any offence". It appears to mean that someone can be found guilty of an offence they have actually not committed. Granted that many offences covered by this law are despicable (rape, child abuse), I am nonetheless profoundly uncomfortable when the law regards 'intent' as precisely equivalent to 'action'. How can this be? I am not sure what scenarios this section was intended to cover, but it opens the door to Kafkaesque possibilities. It's not all that difficult to imagine a combination of circumstances whereby a trivial offence becomes an accusation of intent to commit a sexual offence. For example:
Mr X simply cannot get tickets to a gig by his favourite band. In a moment of desperation, he goes to the venue and climbs in through a small window. Unfortunately, it's the window to the ladies toilets. Someone reports it to Security and they call the police. The police arrest him on a charge of voyeurism. Even if there is no evidence at all that he has committed an act of voyeurism, the police could argue that he entered the premises not to see the band but to commit an act of voyeurism. If he had a camera or mobile phone in his possession (quite likely with fans at gigs), that would be even more damning.
Under this law, an offence committed with intent to commit a sexual offence is regarded as the same as the act itself. In this case, his 'unlawful entry' into the venue could result in a prison sentence of 2 years for voyeurism. Unlikely? Yes, I agree. But I can easily envisage abuse of this provision - and the nightmare of having to defend oneself against a charge of intent.
I have no legal training, and am just reading this through layman's eyes. I do not know if I have totally misunderstood - I hope so. Nor do I know what proof is required of 'intent.' I would be pleased if a any legal expert reading this could clarify matters.
I have no wish to make life easy for those who commit serious sexual offences. However, once 'intent' is enshrined in law as equivalent to 'action' I feel we are on a very slippery slope. Am I the only one who worries about how a hard-line government might use this? We have already seen the Prevention of Terrorism Act misued to arrest people (for example, a protestor at a Labour Party conference).
If you haven't read George Orwell's '1984' go and read it at once. We might all end up in Room 101.
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