I lay on the couch, as relaxed as I ever get, and listened to the analyst.
"I see that your profession is neuroscientist. Now, I have your file here, but perhaps you could explain the problem to me in your own words?"I sighed: repetition had become tedious in the extreme.
"In the streets, at work and at home, .. I am surrounded by systems. They're controlled by webs of neural tissue. They spin carefully-crafted, conformist and entirely-deceptive narratives .. purporting to explain to themselves and others just why they do what they do."The analyst paused a moment to parse these rather abstract reflections,
"And when you see the people around you, your loved ones, what exactly do you see?"At this the analyst looked thoroughly alarmed. He stood up and walked across to his desk where he made a hushed and urgent call. I caught the term 'psychopath'.
"I see what my MRI scanner sees: heads filled with bright, flickering webs of neural activation. Enhanced glucose metabolism. I see protoplasmic circuitry doing what evolution has honed it to do. ... I see the laws of physics operating."
Returning, he resumed speaking almost before he had sat down.
"You might have what we professionally call a framing issue. The answer is ..."But I was no longer listening, I was focused instead on the intricate movements of his jaw, tongue and larynx, all controlled by that bright, flickering web I could almost see inside his skull.