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The graphic design guy at the next desk over caught me drawing these and I told him about Small Peculiar. Then I had to explain about Walter. I don't know what he made of that.
Speaking of Walter (LET'S) I finished reading the most recent lobotomy book today. The last chapter begins with an excerpt from a letter a patient wrote to Walter. This particular patient wrote him a lot of letters, sometimes more than one in a day. "When are you going to perform the third transorbital lobotomy and cure me? In one month, two months, or perhaps, in three months? I must have asked you this question a dozen times, but the answer still remains elusive. And I want to know it so much. For I am just human enough, to wish to be cured of this paralyzing anxiety as soon as it is convenient for you to reoperate. Tell me when you will do it, and I will purchase a calendar, and mark every day off until the time arrives. That is what prisoners in jail are reputed to do while awaiting their freedom. But, in a way, I am not unlike them. For, their bars are composed of steel, while mine are composed of anxiety. However, they have one advantage over me. They know how much longer they have to serve. How much longer must I wait before the operation releases me?" Isn't that heartbreaking? She's begging him to restore her humanity -- it's like a letter from beyond the grave. In other letters she even apologizes to Walter for not having been cured already by his pet operation, which is not only even more heartbreaking but seems remarkably perceptive about his emotional attachment to the procedure. And that's after having been lobotomized twice already. Stuff that up your cuckoo's nest, Ken Kesey.