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richardwells's review against another edition
3.0
It appears the voices I've been hearing all my life aren't that unusual. Oh, I just hear someone calling my name, and to tell the truth it hasn't happened in a while, but it used to be disconcerting. I mean, you're walking down the street, (or, what's worse, standing in an otherwise empty room,) you hear your name and turn around, and there's no one there, or no one that you know, anyway. And not a voice inside your head, the voice comes from the outside, and is very real. Well, something like 57% of people interviewed have had this type of auditory hallucination at one time or another. This is nothing compared to Joan of Arc, of course, who had an on-going conversation with a few saints; or dear Allen Ginsberg who, after an afternoon of masturbating on his couch, heard William Blake reciting. Do you understand that? Allen was masturbating, not Blake.
What's that...?
The big understanding for me is that the brain is the locus of - everything. Cut your finger and it's the brain that feels the pain, not the finger. It's a good buddhist teaching.
Anyway, considering the title I thought I'd be in for a more tabloid type read, but the author doesn't get too excited, and though not clinical it's not the kind of stuff you just have to share with the guy sitting next to you on the bus. Well, on my bus, the guy sitting next to me is usually having auditory hallucinations of his own, especially between the King Co. Jail and the Harborview ER.
This was a moderately interesting read by an author who was trying to understand his father's mental illness, and came to grips with the idea that his father, though batty, should have been treated more kindly. I couldn't agree more.
Say what...?
What's that...?
The big understanding for me is that the brain is the locus of - everything. Cut your finger and it's the brain that feels the pain, not the finger. It's a good buddhist teaching.
Anyway, considering the title I thought I'd be in for a more tabloid type read, but the author doesn't get too excited, and though not clinical it's not the kind of stuff you just have to share with the guy sitting next to you on the bus. Well, on my bus, the guy sitting next to me is usually having auditory hallucinations of his own, especially between the King Co. Jail and the Harborview ER.
This was a moderately interesting read by an author who was trying to understand his father's mental illness, and came to grips with the idea that his father, though batty, should have been treated more kindly. I couldn't agree more.
Say what...?
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