The Toohey Machine

Well.
After being woken for the fourth time in five hours by the life-form upstairs, I have decided to have another go at writing a planned article about an insight that flashed by while I was bathing; the 'chicken and egg' question.

Is the behaviour of these unfortunate creatures a consequence of the obliteration of self, or is it the chief agent in obliterating the self?

The creep tried the fatted calf approach by leaving me alone for a couple of days; then tonight.
Obviously it didn't work, but when you are on your guard for a behavioural violation which is more or less chronic, will the removal of the creature, or your own removal to another place of dwelling leave you with an inability to believe in whatever peace and privacy you then regain?

Or will you remain traumatised into alert, unable to exist in any moral sense?

The fact is, that these otherwise stupid creatures behave with a complication which is, on the surface, close to the brilliance of the savant, but only in the field of sadism.

They are the sword of Damocles, hanging over us in eternal threat, permitted and encouraged by the idiocy of law that forbids physical intervention.

Yet, in this country, after that fact, many paths to forgiveness are permitted, even allowing for the extermination of the object.
Sure.
But I'd only go to gaol for five years.
And of course, I'd be excluded from Canada.

Wouldn't it be a terrible country, this Britain, if there were people who exploited the abilities of bastards, even bigger bastards behind the scene, betting their Quatloo's on the outcome of a conflict that would serve to keep everybody down?

Can't have too much ambition, because ambition and knowledge are surely the arch enemies of good governance; and perhaps that is what goes on.