Dogra Magra (12/47)

by Hisashi Yumeno

Oh, what a disaster. That a door leading to an abyss from which monsters cannot escape, such a dangerous entrance to hell, could exist. What would happen if such things were truly scattered everywhere? Not only those present, but also government officials, scholars, and the intellectual class—people with blood and tears—would not be able to turn a blind eye and ignore it. As an old senryu says, even when taking medicine in a padded room, one cannot let down their guard.

This problem, which has persisted since the Edo period, remains a dead end in psychiatric research, even amidst the progress of modern culture and science, because the true nature of the human brain and mind is not understood. When one cannot even distinguish between a fake madman and a real one, and yet hospitals are rigidly built, mimicking the facade of other medical fields, conducting treatments and examinations, with instruments, specimens, medicines, and books proudly displayed, it's no wonder such a hell can be created. Preventing this is the urgent task now. Finding and crushing such hospitals should be prioritized above all else.

Chaka-poko, chaka-poko. Sukaraka, poko-poko. Now, if there's a way to prevent such fraudulent hospitals from creating a lunatic's hell, there's only one method. It would be a considerably large undertaking, but it would involve me spending roughly ten million yen to build a new psychiatric hospital on a remote island with a good climate, beautiful scenery, and convenient transportation. It would also have an attached research laboratory, and patients would be admitted for free. To prevent the creation of hell, we would implement a new method called "liberation therapy." This is my new idea, a correct treatment for mental illness based on correct psychiatric science. No drugs would be used, no surgeries performed. No iron chains, stone boxes, or straitjackets would be used at all; all mentally ill individuals would be liberated in a spacious area, and the most natural and correct treatment would be provided. This is liberation therapy. In other words, it would be a ranch for the mentally ill, a paradise for lunatic patients. It would be the world's first psychiatric hospital. Of course, anyone could visit. I don't know what a wonderful spectacle it will be until we open the lid, but everything will be a new invention.

Ah, everything is a new invention. I will announce it there eventually, but there is a principle behind the occurrence of mental illness that not a single scholar in the world knows. It is very simple and clear, a wonderfully amusing theory. We will conduct practical tests there. If we can investigate the true nature of mental illness and become capable of diagnosis and treatment in a situation where diagnosis and prevention are absolutely impossible, and neither drugs nor surgery can be used, the reputation will be tremendous. There are various races in the world, but the Japanese are wonderful. My wish is to make them say that Japan is a country that respects justice and humanity, and that it is a leading nation in psychiatric science.

Ah, that is my wish, to make them say that. However, ten million yen is a considerable sum. Even if I were to exchange the fields, savings, and deeds I inherited from my parents for old loincloths, it would only amount to about half of that. For the rest, I hope to seek assistance from the government and rely on the pure intentions of all of you. Even five rin, one sen, or a single strand of straw, even a little is fine; I will bow my head as a mendicant monk.

Ah, I bow my head and beg of you. However, that kind of mendicant monk seems to be the other half of a "madman." His eyes and appearance are somehow strange. In a state no less than a beggar, he throws his bag by the roadside, raises his hoarse voice, and beats a mokugyo. He exposes himself to public view in broad daylight, and his complaints are beyond common sense. Ten million yen for world culture is neither heard nor seen. He is a fraudulent monk who collects donations by spouting outrageous things like a unique study that corrects the madness of the human heart. Do you think I would fall for such an old trick? I've wasted time where I shouldn't have. If you say we should go quickly, this is indeed most reasonable and perfectly logical.

Ah, I bow my head and apologize. In the first place, this kind of scatterbrained, clattering head, not knowing its place, beats a mokugyo, doing something unprofitable and unasked for, exposing useless shame to the sun. The origin of this matter is a madman's hell, a bottomless hell of unreason and barbarism spreading on the underside of civilized society. Thanks to having seen the depths of cruelty, anguish, sorrow, and pain that neither pen, word, nor mokugyo can reach, my head has become a little strange. The belief that I couldn't simply abandon this as it was, was the beginning of this karma. As a result of thinking about how to help this, building a large hospital that takes in mental patients for free is the first priority. To build that, I must borrow the power of everyone's public opinion. Furthermore, this is the result of careful consideration to not waste even a single rin or sen.

This is a token of apology for the unsightly appearance of the beggar I conceived. I will distribute these books, which are a printed version of the song of the madhouse hell I just sang, to everyone present. There is no charge, please take one. Please take it home and read it. This seems to be true. For those who thought of making a donation, or those who want to investigate the details of my life's work, the project of saving the insane, or those who want to hear about the strange stories of madness from my world travels, or the amazing tales of karma and fate, such as family curses, bloodline impediments, grudges of living spirits and dead spirits that drive people mad and confuse them, or if you think that having such a story performed in a large gathering might make for a unique entertainment, please take one of the postcards enclosed here. Write your name and address on it, write the address I've attached at the end of the page, and simply drop it in the mailbox. My wish is that you will spread the word about such facts existing in this world to your neighbors and as gossip among others. If you do, the secrets of the madhouse hell and the hidden side of human culture, which I am now speaking of, will spread throughout society whether people like it or not. Public opinion will rise, demanding that bad mental hospitals, these madhouse hells, be crushed one by one.

The government could not remain silent. A serious problem that could not be ignored had emerged. As an urgent social project, I decided to donate all my assets and, based on a fund of over five million, build a national mental hospital that would accept mental patients free of charge. This would begin to alleviate the overproduction of mental patients in various regions... chakapoko chakapoko...

The pitiful mental patients, forgotten by people, forgotten by the world, who end their lives struggling in madness, will be saved... pokochaka pokochaka...

Not only that. In that hospital, the treatment methods for madness, which have begun to be researched, will spread throughout society, and all mental illness hells around the world will be overturned without exception. If all forms of abuse of mental patients stop, there could be no greater fulfillment... pokopoko chakachaka...

Ah, there is no greater ambition than this. That is precisely why your work is truly logical. It is a remarkable and admirable idea. Do not worry, for I am with you. Persevere and continue your studies diligently. Crush the madman's hell, from Sukaraka to Chan, with a "Fre—" and a "Hurrah!" If you praise me, my joy will know no bounds... Chakachaka Pokopokopokopoko Chakachaka Pokopoko...

---

Sucharaka, Chakapoko. Chacharaka, Chakapoko. Ah, everyone, I apologize. I am terribly sorry for detaining you with my strange appearance and peculiar words when you are in a hurry. However, upon careful reflection, the time flowing through the three thousand worlds exists within an infinite expanse of time, perhaps tens of thousands, hundreds of millions, or even trillions of years. Even if one lives for fifty, seventy, or a hundred years, it is but a fleeting lifetime. Without truly understanding anything, we meet, part, are born, and die. Among countless people, our meeting here today is surely due to some缘. Please forgive me. Even if we part now, the lingering memory will be Sukaraka Chakapoko. If, after this, you happen to see stories of madmen in rumors, magazines, newspapers, or novels, or if you encounter a real mental patient in passing, I hope you will remember this. The dazzling modern culture, the light of philanthropy and benevolence, and the searchlight of justice and reason, which eclipse the moonlight, the sun's radiance, and the starlight, illuminate a world that is no longer lit in the old way. It is a destination where one vanishes without sound or scent into a madman's hell, worse than hell itself. At the bottom of an infinitely vast and deep darkness, a sea of bluish, drifting blood spreads, and above it, wandering ghostly flames die without sin or retribution. The unfulfilled thoughts of mental patients echo as countless unheard grievances. The heart that hears them becomes a lamenting verse, like an Ahotara Sutra in place of a Buddhist chant. To the accompaniment of an unskillful wooden fish, I shall now attempt to entertain you. Gedō—sa ā—e e—mo o—n n n. Kichigai—i—jigoku u.

—Hey. My apologies for the boredom—

---

◆Please send postcards to the address below.

To Manji Menkuro,

c/o Professor Juhachi Saito's private room,

Professor of Psychiatry, Faculty of Medicine, Kyushu Imperial University

The surface of the Earth is a grand liberation therapy center for the insane.

Kyushu Imperial University

Comments by Dr. Keishi Masaki

Department of Psychiatry

Since early March, the "Insane Liberation Therapy Center" started behind the main building of the Kyushu Imperial University Department of Psychiatry has been steadily progressing along with the construction of its affiliated hospital. Although the details were kept strictly confidential, it has been revealed that Dr. Masaki established it with his private funds. Dr. Masaki spoke to a visiting reporter in his professor's office as follows:

"It seems that the world is making a fuss, calling the 'liberation therapy' I started at Kyushu University original or groundbreaking, but to be honest, it is neither my original idea nor a groundbreaking therapy. This Earth has always been a grand liberation therapy center for the insane. The sun can be seen as its director, the air as its nurse, and the soil as its caterer."

"...Having said that, I am not merely playing with strange words. I say this because there is a reason why I can assert such facts. It is no exaggeration to say that the first step in my 'psychiatric research' is based on the fact that 'the Earth is a grand liberation therapy center for the insane.'"

This is because humans, originally born on this earth, regardless of their social status, age, or gender, have decided that when they find someone whose finger, even just one, is not under their control, or who is lacking or excessive in some way, they immediately label them as "crippled" and either despise them, pity them, or treat them specially. Similarly, when they find someone whose mental faculties are not under their control, or who is lacking or excessive in some way, they immediately brand them as a mental patient, or a "madman," and decide to treat them discriminatorily. They seem to think it's acceptable to subject them to contempt and abuse worse than that given to beasts or insects... However, are the minds of these ordinary people who scorn and mock mental patients truly completely sound? Do the brains of all people move freely and exactly as commanded by their own will, down to every corner?

I dare say, from the perspective of fair and rigorous academia, it certainly does not seem so. It is merely that, like crooked limbs or missing eyes and noses, it cannot be discerned with the naked eye from the outside, but in reality, it is safe to assert that every single human being living on this earth is a spiritual cripple. It is by no means wrong to consider that the world is teeming with so-called spiritual cripples—those who are crooked, twisted, too big, too small, or have excessive or insufficient wisdom or desires—to the point of being overcrowded.

To put it simply, it is said that those without habits have seven habits, and those with habits have forty-eight. Unsightly customs and trivial habits are difficult to give up, even if others laugh at them. Even if one knows they hinder advancement or bother others, even if one resolves and prays to gods or Buddhas, or takes an oath by placing an advertisement in a newspaper, bad habits ultimately cannot be stopped. Does this not demonstrate that one's own mind is not under one's own control? Is it not a deeply rooted manifestation of a mental seizure, where one cannot correct one's own mistakes by one's own will?

Furthermore, isn't it exposing a weakness of the mind when tears well up even if one tries not to cry, or one gets irritated even if one thinks one shouldn't be angry, because one cannot correct a temporary mental imbalance on one's own?

There are few people who do not have tendencies such as being obsessive or easily bored, whimsical, having fluctuating moods, forgetfulness, being nervous, having biased interests, or becoming engrossed or addicted to something. Everyone has some malfunction in the way their mind works. In other words, there is no one who is not just fifty paces from a mentally ill person.

As proof of this, when such weaknesses are pointed out, everyone feels a chill and blushes, or turns pale and tries to explain, or conversely becomes aggressive. This is the same psychology as a mentally ill person claiming to be normal, which is truly comical, but also unavoidable as human nature. However, if that human nature is left unchecked, mental tendencies begin to seem normal. Moreover, when gentlemen who follow modern trends are favored, pathological habits become even more exaggerated and unavoidable. And ultimately, they manifest in society as family tragedies or criminal cases. Minor ones receive social sanctions, and serious ones fall into the hands of the law. Yet, people who cannot reflect, like a car with no brakes, are labeled as "such-and-such maniacs" and are taken to mental hospitals.

I don't want to be misunderstood, but I'm not saying this is bad. I don't mean to insult the lords of creation, but such ladies and gentlemen tend to despise or fear mental patients who are no different from themselves. They are so conceited that they believe they alone possess perfect minds, free from any mental illness, no matter what anyone says, which makes me want to tease them. I want to defend the mental patients who suffer cruel discrimination from such ladies and gentlemen, despite being innocent and undeserving of such treatment.

In other words, when observed this way, the inability to distinguish between a normal person and a madman becomes akin to the inability to distinguish between someone in prison and someone walking outside. To put it simply, a so-called normal person, or a lady or gentleman, would be a combination of a villain who isn't overtly evil enough to end up behind red bricks, and a mental patient.

Of course, this is a kind of outrageous statement. It's truly rude and ill-mannered, but since facts are facts, it can't be helped. Unless we adopt this point of view, true scientific research on mental illness will not progress, just as all medical research cannot progress unless we adopt the view that humans are merely animals. If anyone is confident that "I alone am not mentally ill, and possess a perfect mind," I invite them to come to me at any time. That person will be admitted as a research patient at this university, at public expense. Such a patient is precisely what is needed for student lectures.

The sun endlessly generates an infinite multitude of mentally ill patients on Earth, perpetually continuing its silent liberation therapy. As a result, humanity, a group of half-crazed individuals worse than beasts or insects, has over long years begun to realize that they are a vast multitude of mentally ill people. They have created religions, morals, laws, and even red and blue ideologies, calling out, "Let's stop our reckless behavior, let's stop acting strangely." Therefore, I too have created a small model of this, and presumptuously, in place of the sun, I am attempting "liberation therapy without medicine." I am attempting a truly scientific study and treatment of mental illness, based on the observation that "all of humanity is mentally ill."

Now, what kind of mentally ill patients will be housed in this liberation therapy facility? That is still unknown. Eventually, I plan to select and house appropriate patients as experimental material for my theory, a new theory of mental science.

As for the content of that theory, it is a truly profound question that cannot be explained in a day. However, in essence, it is an approach that fundamentally overturns the methods of mental illness research to date. First, it re-examines the workings of the human brain, correcting the conventional superstitious theory that "the brain is where one thinks." Then, based on this new understanding of "brain function," it clarifies the hereditary effects of the mind. From the resulting mental anatomy, mental physiology, and mental pathology, I wish to collect the most understandable and interesting specimens of mentally ill patients, and attempt a treatment method that applies my unique mental suggestion and stimulation. However, what kind of specimens will be gathered, and what kind of commotion will arise, I myself cannot predict.

However, just to be clear, I would be annoyed if I, who am conducting this experiment, were misunderstood as a perfectly normal, peaceful blockhead with no mental abnormalities.

Once that sun starts to shine intensely, it never stops, as if burning down a hellish asylum for the mentally ill. I wish it would be doused with soy sauce somewhere, but it seems to have no such luxury, and the sun continues to shine brightly, endlessly.

Similarly, once I started researching madmen, I lost the capacity to think about anything else. It's as if I started urinating by the roadside; whether a lord passes by or a police officer appears, I don't care if I'm touched or fined, I continue until I've exhausted myself.

Therefore, I am convinced that even if other madmen can receive treatment, the abnormality of my mind will never be cured. This is undoubtedly something I can guarantee.

Now, if you ask why the content of my dissertation, "On the Brain," has not been published in academia, ahaha, don't be foolish. I am not one to refrain from publishing for fear of controversy. In fact, I am only keeping it at hand because there are a few things I want to add to it.

You want me to talk about its contents? Hmm, it's not that I can't talk about it... but if I do, it will immediately be written about in the newspapers. In fact, an article I spoke about previously, "The Earth's Surface is a Grand Asylum for the Mentally Ill," caused me a bit of trouble when it appeared in your newspaper. It seems I was criticized for self-promotion.

What? I'm fine. I'm not bothered by anything anyone says, but it's pitiful to see the appeasing president and the timid dean turn pale with worry when I say something a little grand. Since Tsurukawa's research on "Universal Gold Return" and Akai's "Rejuvenation Surgery," Kyushu University has been misunderstood as being full of charlatans. Moreover, the content of this "On the Brain" is a dangerous topic that is many layers more alarming than the previous talk about the asylum...

Hmph, so you want me to talk because I won't write? It's been a long time since a newspaper reporter spoke without writing, are you alright? Yes, then I'll talk. By the way, a cigar... a good Havana. It's the fee for listening to my fiery speech, and also the fee for suppressing a newspaper article. A little cheap, perhaps? Hahaha, I'm free today too, so I might raise the stakes a bit.

By the way, do you read detective novels? What, you don't? You should read them. Anyone who doesn't read detective novels, which could be called the nerve center of modern literature, can't be called modern. What, you're tired of reading them? Uh-hahaha, my apologies. Your profession is a newspaper reporter, isn't it? Ahaha, no, my apologies, my apologies.

Well then, I have here a most novel and bizarre true detective story that I've been keeping secret. Would you like to hear it? I was actually thinking of submitting it to some science magazine, but I wouldn't mind hearing your critique as a preliminary test. I think the complexity and subtlety of the plot, and the exhilaration of the solution, are probably unprecedented. Of course, it comes with a very special premium: if there's ever another case like it, you'll never see me again.

What? Don't try to deceive me. It's deeply related to my theory of the brain that I just mentioned. A detective novel, in short, is a sport for the brain. The criminal's brain and the detective's brain play tag or weasel-tag, using all their secret arts. Isn't the essence of a detective novel to captivate the reader's mind with the various illusions, hallucinations, and perverted ideas that arise during that game? Right, isn't it?

However, my detective novel is completely different from such common storylines. In other words, it's the ultimate absolute scientific detective novel in the universe, where "the brain itself" chases "the brain itself"... And what's more, the unraveling of that absolute scientific detective novel, the trick itself that will astonish two billion human brains, is precisely the theme of my "theory of the brain," so it's incredible, isn't it?

What, you don't understand? Hahaha, it's no wonder you don't understand. I haven't said anything yet, have I? Hahaha.

Oh, by all means, by all means. You can take shorthand. All I ask is that you wait to publish it in the newspaper until I officially present "On the Brain" as my doctoral thesis. If you like, I can even edit it later. Wouldn't it be more convenient to publish it as my own creation rather than as a conversation...?