I don't think understanding disturbed souls is cause for alarm, Biggles.  Writers couldn't ply their trade without it.  (Aside here--back in '92, I met my old bandmate Ken Guarino at Bull McCabe's Irish Pub for our usual Friday afternoon drinking bout. We'd punished maybe a pitcher apiece when I remembered... "Hey, Ken, I got a new lyric here for the band."  "Cool!  Let's see!"  It was called (OH, OH, OH, OH) THE THINGS SHE DID FOR THE LOVE OF A GUNMAN.  And I thought of it as just an old-style murder ballad, featuring a Bonnie-and-Clyde-type couple.  Ken took it with an expectant smile, read it, and put it down.  He looked at me, took a long pull from his beer, and read it again.  "Jesus Christ, Mike...YOU wanna sing it?  This is psychotic!"  I have never felt so proud.)  Anyway, psychology class and kamikazes.  When I attended SUNY Brockport, I took the required Psych 101 with Dr. Ashita, a =high= judo master (coached the US judo Olympic team in 1972) and former kamikaze pilot.  He spoke English perfectly well, but adopted a broad "Yellow Peril" accent when he told the story (every class wanted to hear it).  "Well, class, there was Ashita...ready to die for Emperor.  Banzai!  Commander say, 'Ashita--dive your aircraft into Yankee carrier!'  Ashita say, 'Banzai!' and climb into cockpit.  Found American fleet.  Ah, but Ashita smart--no want to die--hide in cloud!"