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!"