[dissociation] the only way to kill

I tried to dissociate from that last post but couldn't.

Take away the Colombian girl and substitute Vinnie Jones, take away Colombia and substitute the East End of London - in the end it still comes down to dissociation - the ability to psychologically come to terms or shut out what you're doing.

The Colombian "freedom fighter" Marilyn:

Watching her take the pistol from her belt, unbutton her jeans and slip into bed I somehow couldn't quite equate the woman in my arms with the bodies I had seen in the local morgue, their heads shattered by gunshots at close range, murders she confessed to having committed.

One morning, Marylin told me that the previous night she had persuaded a friend to help her decapitate and dismember a woman she had been contracted to kill. This was no informer, but, rather, a friend of hers who paid her to kill her boyfriend's other girlfriend.

"You have to lose the fear. Now I am still killing and nothing happens. I feel normal. Before, I had an obligation to kill, I was sent to kill. But once I left the organisation, I was not obligated. I now only do the job for money."

How could she do this?



I quoted a woman some time back on "porn stars":

We know how women in the sex industry -- not all, but many -- routinely dissociate to cope with what they do. We know that in one study of 130 street prostitutes, 68 percent met the diagnostic criteria for post-traumatic stress disorder. I realize that this task is difficult.

This alienation and dissociation is what the C.I.A. experiments were about. It's what killing in war is all about. In a small way, it was about how I played rugby.

My playing weight was 80kg, way too small for minor division flanker and yet that's what I played, it's no lie. Too slow for half-back, not enough straight line speed for a back, not big enough for a forward, they put me open side flanker because I was quick over three metres, which meant everything depended on me getting to that victim before he got away or to the breakdown, otherwise they'd drop me from the side.

And there was another factor - you had to hit the man hard, shoulder to thigh to get him off balance, nothing lacking. You had to then maul him and savage him and break the play down, ready to take off with the ball yourself if you saw a chance and look for your support.

You give only 90%, you get hurt. You give 110%, you have sore shoulders at the end of the game and respect. And one more thing - it puts a little reticence in their minds about you, which in turn gives you a margin of safety.

So I understand why people do it but I also understand how much closer to the bestial we become. With one arm over my second rower, eyes firmly on the victim and him knowing this little toe-rag was gunning for him, it also gave a feeling of power, which is an adrenaline rush.

Rugby's one thing - cold-blooded murder is another but how far apart are they?

Didn't think twice about killing those children - all in a good cause, of course - the cause trumps everything.