‘You said your last therapist thought you’re mad.’
‘Yes,’ Daniel replies.
‘How so?’ I ask.
With a heaviness Daniel replies, ‘Umm … You know what zombies are?’ His eyes are intense.
‘I’ve seen zombie films,’ I retort. I don’t think this is the answer Daniel wants.
Daniel continues, ‘Zombies are brain dead; they feed on the living.’ He scans my reaction, then continues.
‘Have you seen Romero’s Dawn of the Dead? These people barricade themselves into a shopping mall, then zombies break in and wander around the shops; the survivors have to pretend to be zombies – it’s the way people have become.’
‘It’s a comment on consumerism?’ I ask.
Daniel looks disappointed. ‘It’s a metaphor, not a comment.’
‘So you’re saying some people are zombies?’ I clarify.
‘You read Nietzsche right?’ Daniel asks. I nod. ‘People’ve become Nietzsche’s last man; they seek only comfort, they don’t think, they dislike and fear the “other” unless they’re subjugated, kept behind a big wall, or Brexited away … This is what zombie films are about. No one’s immune. Christians think they are; they don’t realise they’re already zombies. Christianity is the religion of the undead.’
‘Say more,’ I urge.
Daniel sits forward. ‘Nietzsche understood Christianity wouldn’t die with the death of God; instead it would flourish, because, at it’s heart, it’s nihilistic. It can’t affirm life because it devalues it; it values only a belief in an afterlife. And so it breeds ressentiment towards life.’
Daniel pauses for a moment, then continues, ‘You’re thinking “He’s mad” aren’t you?’
‘Yes I am. You are mad. You’ve come in here and said “People are zombies”, “Christians are the undead” just as Nietzsche’s mad man entered the market declaring “God is dead”. You’re doing just the same. By your own point of reference, and Nietzsche’s, you’re mad.’
‘Huh. Yes I suppose so. But do you think I’m mad?’ Daniel insists.
‘Not in the clinical DSM 5 sense, but yes, in an informal sense, the way most of us are.’
‘So you agree that Christians are zombies, nihilists?’ Daniel asks.
‘Well I don’t know about zombies … but yes they’re nihilistic. Though I wouldn’t include Jesus in that. I agree with Nietzsche about Jesus, he described him as “the first and last Christian”. So Jesus is the exception that proves the rule.’
‘Hmm interesting,’ Daniel ponders, ‘Do you think Jesus was mad?’
‘How could he not be? Though I think he knew he was. Knowing how mad you are makes all the difference,’ I reply.
‘Do you think Richard Dawkins is mad?’ Daniel asks.
‘You tell me.’
‘Yes in a sense; when he attacks religious people it’s clear he doesn’t see how much in common he has with them; he wants to convert them. He picked up on this idea about memes, and said that religion was a sort of meme or virus. That’s similar to what I’m saying, though people seem to think Dawkins is brilliant. He thinks he has the cure; he doesn’t see how he’s just spreading a different strain of the same virus.’
‘You’re quite invested in what people think of you,’ I reply.
‘Aren’t you?’ Asks Daniel.
‘Yes to some degree; mostly not. Being yourself inevitably invites criticism. It’s a small price.’
‘You’re not mad,’ Daniel concludes, ‘You’re a bit odd, but you’re not mad.’
‘I am mad.’ I point at the space on the sofa next to where Daniel is sitting. ‘Three months ago I worked with a talking chimpanzee. She sat right there.’
Daniel looks at me as though seeing me for the first time.
‘Look, there on the rug, that’s a squashed mango stain – she dropped fruit peel and skins on the floor and stepped on them when she got up.’ Looking at Daniel I add, ‘If that’s true – and it is true – tell me I’m not mad.’
Daniel blinks twice, blurts out a high-pitch laugh and says, ‘You’re nuts! … So tell me about the chimpanzee, did you cure her?’
Daniel is humouring me; he doesn’t believe what I’ve said.
‘No, I don’t cure chimpanzees, or humans. Both are terminal conditions; there’s no cure. She did appreciate the fruit though … And our work together isn’t finished.’
Daniel looks up at the wall. ‘You should have one of those signs – you know: “You don’t have to be mad to work here, but it helps”.’
‘I might do that.’ I smile, ‘You’re a sensitive man Daniel. You’re creative and you care deeply. I see it’s a struggle to express that. We can explore anything you want. How does that sound?’
Daniel solemnly nods his approval.
‘But if you eat fruit in this room you can use the bin like a normal person.’
Glenn recommends …
… reading his earlier blog Chimpanzee on the couch; it might help you make more sense of this one.
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