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The Pharmaceutical Journal
Vol 269 No 7228 p862
14 December 2002

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Onlooker

Exalted mood [more]
Brutal killer [more]
Talking sense [more]


Exalted mood

William Wordsworth ('The Prelude', 1850) exalts the virtues of "Imagination, which in truth / Is but another name for absolute power, amplitude of mind / And Reason in her most exalted mood." Yet imagination goes beyond its beneficent function and may invoke the powers of evil. By definition, imagination is the power to conjure up experiences of the senses, primarily that of sight. It may involve creativity, foresight and sympathy or compassion. It may also extend to hallucination and delusions of power.

Individuals who develop an exaggerated, distorted idea of their own importance to society and their power to mould it into what they regard as the ultimate Utopia are abusing their power of imagination. They constitute a substantial section of the world's politicians and bureaucrats. Imagination directed at personal or tribal advancement is dangerous and destructive. It is also shortsighted. If it proceeds to hallucination it constitutes mental illness, and this is where the abuse of drugs comes into its own, and raises a severe problem that challenges all the resources of modern societies and cultures.

Hallucination derives from the Greek verb alussein, meaning to be distraught or ill at ease. It embraces not only vision but hearing, olfaction and physical contact. Any hallucinogenic drug is capable of convincing its taker that it has opened a path of insight into the hidden mysteries of the universe, and we find many examples of artists of genius who owe at least some of their vision to a drug habit.

Percy Bysshe Shelley in 1813 started to drink laudanum for acute chest pain, and used to carry with him a bottle of the preparation, which he would sample from time to time. He managed to break the habit after six years. Algernon Charles Swinburne indulged in vast quantities of brandy, which brought on epileptiform seizures. Charles Lamb was a slave to tobacco.

Thomas De Quincey first took opium at the age of 24 in 1804. In his attempts to conquer the habit he was periodically depressed and exalted. Charles Baudelaire was a victim of both opium and hashish, belonging to the Club des Hashichins which met in Paris, and describing his experiences in 'Les paradis artificiels' (1860). He managed to discontinue hashish, but continued on opium. In contrast, Honoré de Balzac depended for his inspiration upon strong black coffee.

Artistic creativity is not the only outcome of a cultivated imagination. This also provides the invaluable gifts of foresight, insight and sympathy or compassion. Such characteristics of an individual are an enormous asset to society, rendering it more stable and obviating many of the conflicts that arise from a limited viewpoint operating within an increasingly competitive global attitude, prompted mainly by economic greed. Imagination is therefore something to be encouraged in our educational programmes and beyond, but not by official means.

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Brutal killer

On 31 August 1888, at 3.40am in London's Whitechapel, the mutilated body of Mary Ann Nicholls was found. Hers was the first of a horrifying series of five murders of prostitutes by the mysterious character who came to be called Jack the Ripper. There were probably more, but following the vicious attack on Mary ("Polly") the recorded victims were Annie Chapman, Elizabeth Stride, Catherine Eddowes and Mary Kelly.

The disembowelling technique practised by the undetected murderer led to rumours that he might be a surgeon gone mad. He was thought to be a " gentleman"' of some standing, if not a doctor then perhaps a lawyer. There was a prevalent idea that a high-ranking Freemason, perhaps Sir William Gull the royal physician, might be involved, eager to suppress some scandal involving the Duke of Clarence, or even the Duke himself.

Another line of explanation finding favour was that the killer was a sailor or a ship's cook, possibly of Scandinavian origin, though why from that part of the world has never been explained, unless an ancient Viking habit was recollected. A later candidate was the artist Walter Sickert, well known for his paintings of low life in London, with scenes depicting the lives of prostitutes. There is no doubt that Sickert was deeply intrigued by the Ripper murders, and he may have been one of the first people to talk about "Jack the Ripper". He was fond of creating sensations and known to indulge in strange fantasies. But the Ripper murders were noted for starting quietly, increasing in ferocity, and then suddenly ceasing completely, which is not characteristic of a true psychopath bent on mutilation.

Fresh interest has been aroused by the recent publication of a book by Patricia Cornwell, arguing that Sickert was indeed the Ripper. She has pointed to some modern forensic evidence, and has discovered some strange sketches with Ripper comments, which Sickert left in a guest book at a hotel on the Lizard about the time of the murders. Experts who have studied the evidence admit that the case for the prosecution against Sickert is feasible, but is unlikely to prove finally convincing.

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Talking sense

The real object of education, as I have insisted on previous occasions, is to liberate the potential of the student and enable him or her to participate in the intercommunication of civilised society. In pursuing such an end we can be thwarted by definitions. We should understand what we mean by a word or expression, but one regrettable contribution of politicians and lawyers to civilised intercourse is the deliberate tendency to argue that what they say is not what they mean. The world of spin and advocacy is so treacherous today as to prompt us to seek precise definitions of our terms, and to look at their origins and history. We neglect dictionaries at our peril.

Today we talk glibly of terrorism and how to deal with its manifestations, but are rather vague over what it means. The term dates back to the so-called Reign of Terror in France between 1793 and 1795, when power lay in the hands of the Jacobins and the Committee of Public Safety. During that period it has been estimated that perhaps 17,000 people were slaughtered under suspicion of plotting a Royalist counter-revolution. Terror is defined as extreme fear, and terrorism as an organised system of government by intimidation. As we have seen in several countries today, terrorism need not be occult, but is often openly blatant. We are at fault in assuming that the term implies a clandestine organisation, although its modern manifestations are most frightening when arriving without reason out of the blue, and evidently the outcome of a violent fanaticism.

According to Paul Gilbert of Hull University (in 'The Oxford Companion to Philosophy', 1995): "Terrorism is the paradigm of political violence, but it eludes easy definition." It may be looked upon as illegitimate political killing, or alternatively as unregulated low-level warfare, he argues. As to dealing with it, we might look back to the French Revolution and understand that terrorism is a reaction against unjust repression by a ruling caste. We need to abolish that repression. When we do, the fanaticism will lose all momentum and fade away.

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