We are going on a trip this coming Thursday, first to Miami to visit relatives, and from there to Akumal, Mexico for some sun, snorkeling and sand. These days everything is always up in the air, as Covid Nazis can alter everyone’s plans at will. But at this time Mexico requires no PCR test or vaccination documentation, no masks on arrival. To return to the US requires a PCR test, and given that the Moronic variant is said to be running rampant, the country may by then be in lockdown as Joe Biden’s Dark Winter sets in. It’s out of our control, but this is key: If we test “positive” for this fictitious entity, Mexico does not care. We simply extend our vacation. They do not quarantine. Maybe it is time to be looking for housing down there, as the country seems to have escaped the psychopathic insanity, On our trip to Baja a few years ago, I learned to appreciate fresh seafood – I can deal with being stuck on the Mexican coast.
I am reading Mask of Sanity by Hervey (yes, “Hervey”) Cleckley (1903-1984), an inquiry into the nature of psychopathy. I did not expect such good writing an potent insight from it. The man was deeply observant.
One of the later chapters (Chapter 34, page 303 of my 1955 third edition) describes a patient of his, an attractive woman in her middle twenties, who had slept with 20 consecutive men, each only once (one or two twice but no more). She was not uninhibited, and knew that she needed to come to grips with her own behavior. She was quite aware it was aberrant. She had no feelings for the men, but she was not a psychopath. Further inquiry by Cleckley formed a new idea of the reason behind her burst of promiscuity. She had a friend, a woman somewhat older, married. The two were attracted to one another, and the patient described their intimate interludes with this older woman as the most pleasurable and satisfying she had ever encountered.