The death-scream of Lady Macbeth is heard off-stage and Macbeth, told of her end, generalizes the human tragedy:
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time, And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player That struts and frets his hour upon the stage And then is heard no more. It is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing. (Act V, scene 5)
Whereupon he sallies forth to battle; death is the therapy: il se fait tuer or, as Americans express it, 'he gets himself killed, ' Life "is a tale told by an idiot," the many idiots who live and then those who tell of it, and such is history. These famous lines of Shakespeare seem to be in context here.
Starting with its creation, mankind moved through time on a spiral path around its schizoid core. On numerous occasions catastrophes changed the arc of the spiral, sending humanity closer to the core in mentation and behavior. Whenever the natural environment seemed to settle down, it appeared that he might invent ways of reaching beyond his limitations, and his historical spiral moved away from the core. But simultaneously, as if magnetized by the core, he would be pulled inwards to it. Thus it has happened that the record of some five thousand years of proto-history and history has found mankind reenacting time and time again, without the urgency of catastrophes, his primordial behavior. His spiral path has had an inertia such that he could neither escape his core self, nor the fossil thrusts of the disastrous times that he had suffered. When a social change occurs, when the earth trembles, when a comet files by, his mind is unduly disturbed, that is, agitated beyond his normal schizoid behavior into activity reminiscent of the similar but much greater catastrophes of his earlier days on Earth. It is not necessary, either, to search only in the wreckage of recent disasters of relatively large social scope for an outburst of symptoms of schizophrenia. Even in mild episodes, whether collective or individual, the symptoms exaggerate, become full-blown. The recurrence of such symptoms, great or minor, in modern times, are not to be thought of as evidence of the weakness of the quantavolutionary model of homo schizo, but, on the contrary, are indications of its strength.
Let us examine a few types of historical behavior to clarify the 'psychopathology' of history as the story of homo schizo. When we do so, we can agree that Arthur Koestler, man of much political experience as well as a profound human analyst, was hitting close to the truth as he was writing: "When one contemplates the streak of madness running through human history, it appears highly probable that homo sapiens is a biological freak, the result of some remarkable mistake in the evolutionary process." 
Generally, history-telling is a guided use of symbols to integrate disordered minds by reiterating obsessions about how the idols of the tellers have controlled the world on their behalf. So history-telling can be a form of dance, chant, prophecy, folklore, legend, prayer, catechism, rite, epic poem, parable, fiction, literature, fantasy, sacred relics, drawings, sculptures, physical constructions, or historiography in its narrow sense. In the total accounts of humanity, historiography, which looms large in the minds of such as read this book, is a small part of history, with only a fractional impact upon the total effects of history-telling.
It is a history-telling when people engage in sacred drama or dancing, as all drama and dancing were during most of the world's history. Nor does comedy or jazz dancing or even computer music escape its sacred roots, although these are sublimations of sublimations beyond facile recognition. Sacred dramas have occupied more human time in history than the whole of all secular theatrical activity since its beginning. It is common to find 'madness' in Shakespeare and Samuel Becket, but a sense of direct connection with primeval origins does not come readily. Let us use the materials so auspiciously gathered by Perry to stress the interconnections of dance forms, schizophrenia, and the origins of mankind.
Persons going through psychotic episodes frequently say that "they are taking part in some dramatic performance that has been already written and prepared beforehand.. nothing about them feels arbitrary or 'made-up, ' but rather they seem to follow well-established configurations."  They are linked actors in ritual dramas found around the world -- Egypt, India, China, early Central and South America, the Norse area, Ireland, Iran and other Indo-European regions.
The inner journey of the psychotic topically repeats the following form, in the words of Perry:
1. Establishing a world center as the locus.
2. Undergoing death.
3. Return to the beginnings of time and creation.
4. Cosmic conflict as a clash of opposites.
5. Threat of the reversal of opposites.
6. Apotheosis as king or messianic hero.
7. Sacred marriage as a union of opposites.
8. New birth as a reconciliation of opposites.
9. New society of the prophetic vision.
10. Quadrated world forms.
Carrying this framework into the ritual drama of Ancient Egypt, we encounter the replication of raising of the center of the city as did the creator god. Next there occurs the drama of the murder of the god Osiris, and of ensuing chaos, until his son Horus assumes world power, and is embodied in the Egyptian monarch. The king goes back to the beginning of creation and is baptized, purified, and prepared for the future. The devil god Seth, represented by an animal, seeks to usurp the monarch; mock battles are fought with warrior actors. A suspenseful period is said to follow, a chaos, while the issue of ruling the universe is unsettled. The king is crowned ruler of the world, successor to Horus. Various festivals are held; effigies of the gods cohabit. Osiris is reborn through his mother, the Sky. A new harmonious order of the world is proclaimed, reestablishing the primal order and justice. Throughout, the world is represented by a four-cornered, four-pillared structure, the four cardinal directions. The king takes possession of them all. Although a jumble of celebrations and their related dramas develop in Egypt, as elsewhere, and do so in the varying forms that personal psychoses take, the general paths of the rituals remain clear and it is likewise strikingly evident that the great society is celebrating a thoroughly schizoid cycle, year after year, endlessly.
The melange of ritual dramas adds up to history, as it is known and relived by the elite and masses of all times and places. History as it is taught in the schools, schizoid though it may be, is but a pallid imitation of this more fundamental and archtypical history-telling. The Exodus story, true in most respects - as indeed the drama contains essential historicity for all peoples - is recited and replayed in Judaic ritual celebrations. The Roman Catholic mass, basing itself upon the life of the Christ, is also a ritual drama. Joseph Campbell composes a worldwide plot for the tales of heroes, which belongs in the category of ritual dramas  .
What happens to the educated and scientific people, the millions of unbelievers, 'back-sliders, ' the communist throngs of half the world that denies the ritual drama in its traditional forms - do they successfully cast off the schizotypical behavior implicated in the ceremonial dramas? More likely, they find substitute outlets. They pursue speculation on the origins of the universe (the catastrophic 'Big Bang'), on the evolution of life over billions of years, on the climactic but prolonged rise of mankind, on blind but progressive nature and on its control by reason. In a recent television film, Cosmos, viewed by millions and loudly touted by the intelligentsia, Carl Sagan, an astronomer, chants a prolonged liturgy on the evolution of life forms from molecule to man, with the help of canonical background music and sleight-of-hand cartoons.
Bits and pieces of the ritual drama (which was not a one-act performance anyhow) are parceled out to holidays, parades, 'Hollywood westerns, ' speeches, diet-fads, paranoid political causes, mass spectator sports and so on. Admittedly the sundered great god Osiris is rarely discovered and put together again. Living a new history, as contrasted with reenacting faithfully history, is difficult. But for those who cannot stand the secularized way of life, there is then mental therapy: 'Maybe you should see a psychiatrist, ' or "There's an article you should read in yesterday's newspaper".
History-telling today is typically viewed as the events of the past, incompletely or completely related depending upon the number of volumes given over to it, sorted by periods like the Renaissance, names like Julius Caesar, topics like architecture, events like the Battles of Verdun, or demonstrations of principles like Marxism. Behind all of this is the historian: "Alexander is Great," said his faithful biographer, "because I wrote about him."
What do historians write? If what history tells us is true, then homo schizo is the hero of all times and places. If what history says is false, then history is the workings of the minds of homo schizo on past events. Should someone protest that history is both true and false -- and indeed it is -- then homo schizo must be both subject and author, and then in a way all history is the autobiography of this species.
Historism is a production of histories about history. In its various guises, it is evoked in order to train the people of a culture how to avoid and handle anxieties. It is typically addressed to some part of society in preference to the rest because there are usually several identities striving for recognition of themselves and no history can or wants to work for all of them. Ordinarily it is the rulers who have most need of history and can command it most readily and can support it. It appears no less than right that the 'heads' command the 'heads. ' It is clear that historism is a branch of culture, a culture complex, and little more. The two have the same motive, to help homo schizo behave in a controlled manner.
The major focus of historism is in a fundamental sense upon itself, that is, upon the power needs that brought it into being. What are the main problems here? Historism must show how first came chaos, then the creation of the forces that work for the benefit of its sponsors and clients. So historism must deal with the creation, with the gods who are its gods, who have chosen its clients. Then it moves to the rulers, its rulers and how they worked for its clients until, usually, the rulers went bad. It unites fate and destiny with the clients, but if the gods are not active enough, and if fate and destiny are not adequate, then it adjoins some lawful principle, like evolution by natural selection, like progress, like the triumph of the working class, or like the ideal of the nation-state.
Creation, gods, and rulers or principles -- these are the major subjects of history, the events of history, even written history, much more oral history. Now then historism fattens itself into great tomes, as in epics, encyclopedias and monographs, to concentrate upon the settings or conditions of different times to make certain that all clientele will have a locale and moment with which more easily to identify.
Then historism concentrates upon conflicts, and as in peek-a-boo with a baby, which Otto Rank sees as a basic play for relieving the fear of a separation from the guardians, the conflicts go to show how time after time the ego's stability is threatened by accident or malefactors, only to be restored by benign and usually anthropomorphised agents. In the end the topics of history, the main topics, not the endless sublimations of topics, serve to concentrate attention and relief where it most matters, at the most threatened points: why we are here in the first place, who we are, what has been done to keep us reassured -- even by the most devious means -- and how we may expect to preserve our being into the future.
Historism, then, in all of its forms, is therapy on a grand scale for homo schizo. It operates like a giant brain. It helps a selected main ego to dominate the other egos. It occupies itself with the displacements that are current and molds them into more meaningful buttresses of the self, so at one time it concerns itself with gods and then at another time with heroes and rulers, then with food supplies, with money, with ships, whatever the focus of the attention of its clients.
It aids the memory to forget and recall. It says to the Jews of 3400 years ago, 'Remember your bondage in Egypt, ' and to the Jews of 1981 'Remember the Nazi holocausts. ' And the Romans said 'Remember Carthage' and the Americans said 'Remember Pearl Harbor. ' One may wonder that these are disasters. But the disasters are still the route to victories; the end has not come. Meanwhile they give goals, ergo identity, to the clients of historism. The Germans of 1980 do not proclaim 'Remember World War II! ' with much enthusiasm; they are seeking a new dominant ego.
If the disaster is final, it is suppressed. The American Indians and Blacks, for a long time, wanted no history and knew hardly any. It was ego-destroying. If, by some concatenation of events, it is revived, then its more tolerable parts are recalled. The unbelievable catastrophe that Elohim brought upon the world in the great flood is so honeyed for the surviving clientele, for the Noahs, that it can be read by tender-hearted little children without qualms. Historism supplies the proper amount of amnesia.
In addition it distorts or even denies the events. Even sincere efforts of German policy since World War II have not prevented massive amnesia of the death camps, and, for more complex reasons, German democratic leaders have had to tolerate deliberate efforts to show that the Nazi holocausts were unknown to most Germans and also greatly exaggerated. All the perfumes of Arabia could not sweeten of murder the hands of Lady Macbeth, the poet wrote, and so guilt goes underground and historism is often nothing but sublimations of crimes perceived and committed. It becomes part of the devil within one, the uncontrollable alter ego and helps homo schizo to remain himself, eternally divided, and therefore adds to the continual flow of anxiety, maintaining the level that guarantees the genetic predisposition to remain an unstable self.
If it is true, as psychoanalysts say, that one has to be psycho-analyzed before he can practice psychiatric therapy, then it must be equally true that all historians should be psychoanalyzed. But if this were so, then history would be a dull compendium of who knows what; or it might not even exist, for of what use is remembering if it does not tender oneself a psychic strength? Conceivable, but impossible: if it were done, all poetry and history and literature and music would be lost; it would be irrelevant, dead, unpracticed. Or perhaps the psychoanalyzed historians will be told by their therapists what their age-old mission is: not truth, but therapy.
But homo schizo is quite incapable of this, although he toys with the idea as we play with it here. Historism gives him control, relief from fear, a more manageable ego, comfortable obsessions, paranoia and aversiveness, cognitive disorders quite believable, grounds for ambivalence, negativism; and above all it affords him sublimations. Verily, history is too important to entrust to truth.
The human never acts according to a single factor in his complex, but in terms of the complex itself. Whence history as a whole can be viewed as a prolonged struggle against anxiety, as Norman Brown, for example, asserts  . Action according to a single mode, e. g., 'obsessive compulsion, ' without involvement in identity questions, displacements, fear-level, or sublimation, does not occur. Rather, the history of a set of actions, of a character, or of an institution involves all modes in different proportions and with intricately woven and sometimes imperceptible patterns.
Technical and scientific histories, say defenders of objective historism, are exceptions to the flow of schizoid control processes through accounts of the past. Firstly, as has become accepted by historians of science, in principle if not in practice, such specialized history has the full range of homo schizo behaviors in its substance. The writing itself, far removed from a chant about the first days of creation, is a subterfuge, proclaimed so openly and therefore deemed innocent. The sublimation of factual technical narrative, even in its suspiciously professed narrowness, is intended to follow an obsessive rhythm, letting all the faculties of homo schizo sleep and dream while the brain beats to a narrow band of 'truth. '
Chess is a highly intellectual game. Computers can play it close to the master's level. Below is a story that may not be in the history books of chess, it being counter to be rationale of the game.
An extraordinary everyday-life example of a paranoid reaction illustrating shame-humiliation mechanisms took place at the Spassky-Fisher chess-match of 1972 held in Iceland for the world championship. By the 17th game, Spassky, the Soviet world champion, was facing the loss of the match by three points, 9 1/ 2 to 6 1/ 2, with 12 points needed to win. In this symbolic warfare between the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics and the United States, a humiliating defeat was impending for the Soviets, who had held the world championship for the previous 24 years and for 41 of the last 45 years. Soviet chess was about to lose esteem in the eyes of millions.
Trying to account for Spassky's "unusual slackening of concentration and display of impulsiveness," the Soviets issued a public statement claiming that non-chess means of influence (electronic devices and chemical substances) might be involved. They requested an expert examination of the playing halls and its contents.
A 24-hours guard was placed around the hall. The chairs of the players were examined for poisons and x-rayed. (These were richly upholstered Eames chairs sent from New York.) Icelandic scientists dismantled the lighting canopy over the stage, but found only two dead flies. (Strangely, no one suggested further examination of these well-known bugs.) Nothing was found.
At the end of the match, which Fisher won 12 1/ 2 to 8 1/ 2, Spassky, who during play sometimes peered suspiciously up at the lighting, said, "I still feel there was something in the hall that affected me... I am really convinced there was some curious thing in it." 
Whence, for that matter, come the highly elaborated practices of medical therapy?
In the second millennium B. C., the Chinese word for "medicine" still was composed of two parts, "cure" and "divination." W. Tseng reports that the concepts of Yin-Yang opposites, of the five elements, and of the microcosmos-macrocosmos bond dominated the corpus medicus  .
Care and feeding of the young were perhaps the earliest therapies. Care of the self has been noted among some mammals. The licking of wounds is common; they may even be bathed. Care of other adults of the group is found in warning signals, grooming, and food-sharing. This, if it were not reflexive or conditioned, but voluntary, would require the multiple identification process of homo schizo. Worship of gods implies care and attention to the projected demands and needs of the controllers upon whom one's sense of self-control depends.
The first medical therapies, it may be conjectured, were reiterative rites and celebrations, such as dramatization of big dreams, orgiastic feasting, cannibalism, self-mutilation, mud baths if it was believed that we were fashioned from the primordial ooze; blind staring of catatonia; emitting sounds evocative of pandemonia; and hypnosis. Recapitulation of collective trauma, of natural disasters and defeats, was foisted upon the group as a mode of therapeutic control. All of these are found today in highly altered forms as mental and physical healing.
Then might proceed the infinitely varied and slightly less 'mad' corpus of homeopathic medicine. Displacements occur by gestalts far removed spatially from resembling gestalts in the brain. The essential methodology is still reiterative, but one large step removed to the imitative by means of extended analogies -- exploring the overlapping discs of the neuron nets for discovery of what new connections make one feel better. In the homeopathic mood a therapist might readily move into the finest sublimations, recognizable as to their origins only with difficulty.
Eating the lotus flower is far removed imaginatively and practically from sacred castration as a way of controlling the god of a comet or a planet like Venus, which is associated sometimes with the lotus and with castration and clitoridectomy. The effects on a wound or on an aberrant mind are achieved, whatever they may be, at the same time as the cooperation (control) of the god is achieved.
Ultimately the development of a set of plants, usable in a variety of complaints, is recognized, accepted and even experimentally enlarged. All this now occurs beneath the sublimatory umbrella of suppressed, 'forgotten, ' religious approval; thus, the god of Venus may rarely be evoked or cited. A corpus of medical therapy exists and can even grow pragmatically by means of the observation of qualities, doses, and effects. Homo schizo has no objection in principle to actual cure, so long as the cures are by-products of or do not interfere with self-control.
For lack of space, the interminable parallels (really homologs) between schizophrenia and archaic human behavior cannot be drawn out. The invitation is always there, however, to scrutinize, or even simply to screen, the contents, for example, of Mircea Eliade's several books on primitive myth and behavior. There, the qualities of homo schizo exude from the time of creation (illud tempus) and pattern themselves so as ultimately to reproduce the insane-sane human of today. Whence one may venture among the deeds of the archaic heroes as, for example, in Campbell's accounts, following the gods-driven succession of compulsions, rites, sacrifices, penances, orgies, and aggressions, interlaced with an infantile cute cunning that manifests the earliest pragmatic behavior.
Exemplary in studies of individuals or heroes would be Ulysses or Odysseus  whose pragmatic cunning was world-famous, so exceptional was it. He is otherwise a typical survivor of catastrophe; in this case some true disasters of the 8th and 7th century, now well documented, are intended, including the Trojan wars, as well as an echoing of more ancient disaster. Odysseus is an alter ego of the Goddess Athena, a thoroughly dangerous, irresponsible and exploitative psychopath, who never dares to look at himself, an accomplished scoundrel. Ulysses goes into the underworld; he has visions and hallucinations -- he is rather paranoid, not only aversive to other people, but pursued by the hostile Poseidon, god of the sea; his reasoning processes are often disordered, when they are not tricky; he is possessed by signs; eternally anxious; homicidal.
Even so, Ulysses was a human with 10,000 years of 'progress' behind him and his story is told by the 'divine' or at least 'highly sublimated' Homer. His life has been faithfully taught to schoolboys by many generations of teachers, mostly 'normal' and oblivious of this simple and easy interpretation of his character and deeds.
Not even James Joyce saw Ulysses in such a light when he wrote his masterpiece by that name; for his hero Bloom is a different kind of schizoid, a "wandering Jew" whose multiple roles were the products of the changes of scene within the city of Dublin and among its people (there being at least two ways of dissociating and cultivating egos -- internal movement and external).
The weirdness of the linguistics of free associations found in the novel of Joyce creates a radical contrast to the language of Homer. Homer had to convey a crazy message to the ordinary man, and his language was ordinary; but the leaps and irrelevancies -- the great metaphoric stretching -- of his style can be seen as chanted liturgy, divine schizoid language, whereas the style of Joyce was ultra-modern schizoid, the liturgy of the individualistic priest of the twentieth century.
When the Greeks and Turks mobilized in a crisis over the Turkish invasion of Cyprus, the author watched young men parading around an island town singing of marching into 'Constantinople' (the Greek name before the city was renamed Istanbul). When he ventured to remark to several by-standers, acquaintances, that with perhaps a quarter of a million deaths Constantinople could be won, they looked at him as if he were a psychopath, or worse, a Turkish sympathizer. When a contract was let by an office of the U. S. Government in the 1950's to prepare a hypothetical scenario on how to make an unfavorable peace or a surrender in the event of defeat, a public uproar forced its immediate cancellation and apologies from high officials for this insult to hubris. But, then, vox populi, vox dei.
Theodor Reik tells of how ordinary people, adults and children, and of how prehistoric man, the Biblical Job and Adam, and the Greek heroes were affected by hubris, an excessive idea of their competence, a presumptuousness, a belief in the power of their own wishes to transform reality. Prehistoric man must have had an even higher degree of over-estimation of his thoughts and fantasies than modern man  . Such would be called delusions of grandeur if met with in the psychiatric clinic. But, says Reik properly, all men have some of it.
J. Jaynes has developed much material on the hallucinatory behavior of the ancient heroes of the Bible, the Homeric epics, and early empires of the Near East. Johnson has done the same, in a less analytic manner, and the present author has concentrated especially upon the psychology of Moses and the Exodus  . To Jaynes, the whole of these ancient cultures, perhaps from the dawn of mankind and certainly for the millennia before the eighth century B. C., were bicamerally schizophrenic, the one brain hemisphere cut off functionally from the other, until a loss of faith in dealings with the gods provoked seizures of self-awareness and the beginnings of a complex inner mentation, culminating in the Greek classical age.
Jaynes has identified the greater part of recorded history as a partial recovery of mankind from an early, catastrophically-provoked schizophrenia, and has settled upon the brain-hemisphere split as the locus for the schizoid mental phenomena that we are discussing. In his view, iconoclastic and solitary in contemporary philosophical and psychological discussion, the human mind was behaving 'properly' in what may be recognized as 'the Golden Age of Saturn; ' but then it was sent, even literally, upon the warpath by natural disasters. In our view, the origin of self-consciousness was not in the breakdown of the bicameral mind but in its creation.
Were Jaynes to specify the several disasters, and to allow the original schizophrenia to occur with the very birth of homo sapiens, a remarkable congruence of our theories would result. It is strange -- ought I say schizoid? -- that in the years he was working on his book he was, to judge both by its inadequacies and by its references, completely out of touch with the vigorous, and even noisy, circle of catastrophists who were working in Princeton Borough, a few hundred yards away, with Immanuel Velikovsky, who was a noted psychiatrist as well as the principal figure in the neo-catastrophist revival.
The 17th century philosopher John Locke and the 18th century historian-engineer, N. A. Boulanger, both secular investigators, believed that mankind could not have invented the idea of hell unless hell had been an actual experience. These are interesting prologues to C. Jung's concept of archetypes of the mind, where much that governs the unconscious today has been with the human species from its beginnings. Velikovsky and the present author, among others, have presented voluminous evidence for such actual hells, brought on by natural disasters.
Nevertheless, one must consider the possibility that present and historical experiences of hell are part of the self-induced and socially induced mentation of schizophrenics. Most psychologists believe it probable (perhaps without considering actual prototypical experiences) that the idea of hell is manufactured and processed within the mind. There can be no question that large-scale disasters of burning, earthquakes, explosions, and fall-outs are hellish, and the comment of survivors even of highly localized disasters is frequently 'It was like hell itself. ' How did they know so?
Hell may have been sometimes anciently outside of us and affixed its impressions upon us, or it may have been both outside and inside of us since the beginnings. Hercules, the Greek god-hero, who was at least as old as the archaic age, feigned madness. The god Dionysus drove people into collective madness and orgies. Madness has always been akin to divine behavior, and the gods were the producers of hell upon earth. Hercules was identified with planet Mars, Dionysus with planet Venus.
E. R. Dodds, in his brilliant study, The Greeks and the Irrational [ 10] demonstrates clearly that only very few Greeks of even the classical period, and Socrates and Plato were not among them, thought that man was anything else but irrational and likely to be possessed. Socrates' own treasured second 'voice' is the most famous of hallucinatory companions. "Our greatest blessings come to us by way of madness," he said, "the madness must be of the divine type, produced by a divinely wrought change in our customary social norms."  Truth was certainly an ideal, but one to be obtained principally by what we should call today 'occult' processes, involving omens, prophets, oracles, voices, mysteries, ritual, and myth.
Metaphorical or analogical reasoning was paramount, which today we should regard as suggestive but not probative. Deductive reasoning was in the ascendancy, which is essentially 'pulling rabbits from a hat. ' The peculiar kind of empirical induction employed by science en masse today was in its infancy with geographers, such as Anaxagoras, and a few others, usually later, such as Archimedes and Thucydides. In all these regards, the intelligentsia was ahead of, but not much ahead of the masses. Socrates was convicted by only a small majority of his fellow citizens, nor was he a very good witness on his own behalf. So we need not venture into 'less-advanced' societies for homo schizo, nor into 'primitive tribes. ' He is the hero of historiography.
That schizotypicality is the everyday state of historical times seems to be a verifiable proposition. It is unfortunate that in the study of societies, as in the study of individuals, schizotypical and schizophrenic behavior are regarded as departures from a norm, a norm that we can never find. A person is either schizo-typical or nothing. Edward Foulks was hot on the trail when recently he wrote, "Schizophrenia is found world-wide because it has a functional basis in human groups and, until recently, may have provided certain evolutionary advantages,"  going on to say that when a society has become stratified and retrograde, schizoid prophets or politicians arise to break down the culture and introduce changes.
They rise and fall -- like Jim Jones' American sect that committed mass suicide in Guyana. They are endless in number, in all cultures. The point of distinction is not sanity-insanity but appropriate-inappropriate behavior, or well-adapted-ill-adapted. For every schizoid prophet who is successful, a hundred are crucified.
But that is only a first point. Second, societies have many ways of behaving schizophrenically, ranging from the incorporation of a population in regular wars or killings (the Roman circuses, the Aztec human sacrifices) to the maintenance of a catatonic bureaucracy that employs and stupefies an active population (the thirteenth Dynasty of Egypt, the Confucian mandarins of China, the Soviet agricultural system, the U. S. Department of State). We cannot yet predict if and when a 'stratified and retrograde' society will be busted by schizophrenes. In any event, it is not a question of schizophrene against normal, but of tigers seizing each other's tail, as the children's story goes, and chasing each other so furiously that they collapse finally in a mess of butterfat.
C. Jung speaks of the sudden "disintegration of the personality and the divestment of the ego-complex of its habitual supremacy,"  that marks the onset of some acute schizophrenias. It is like experiencing an earthquake, explosions, pistol-shots in the head. These disturbances "appear in projection as earthquakes, cosmic catastrophes, as the fall of the stars, the splitting of the sun, the falling asunder of the moon, the transformation of people into corpses, the freezing of the universe, and so on."
In 1957, Jung is again conveying the experiencing of schizophrenia, this time of latent schizophrenics, who he guesses must outnumber manifest cases by 10 to one  .
The latent schizophrenic must always reckon with the possibility that his very foundations will give way somewhere, that an irretrievable disintegration will set in, that his ideas and concepts will lose their cohesion and their connection with other spheres of association and the environment. As a result, he feels threatened by an uncontrollable chaos of chance happenings. He stands on treacherous ground, and very often he knows it. The dangerousness of his situation shows itself in terrifying dreams of cosmic catastrophes, of the end of the world and such things, or the ground he stands on begins to heave, the walls bend and bulge, the solid earth turns to water, a storm carries him up into the air, all his relatives are dead...
In the absence of a scientific tradition of quantavolution and catastrophism, Jung, like most other observers, assumes that the individual is displacing his fears upon the religious stories, fairy-tales, and cinema accounts of disaster throughout his life. Of one fact we feel confident: the human mind, whether normal or abnormal, both by past experience and in imagination, has been full of disaster from its creation. Like the main stem of the nervous system, history and historism reaches from past to present. In many schizoid mind stands a Hesiod or a Moses, ready to tell us how it happened "illo tempore," and to transform events into myths, an improvisational and immense creativity deemed a severe form of insanity.
The facts add up to an important bulwark of our thesis, Schizophrenia produces many collective dreams, as well as dreams of personal life. Also, the condition "yields an immense harvest of collective symbols."  Some of the collective dreams resemble the Big Dreams found in both mobile and unmoving cultures, of the kind that were reportable to the Areopagus of Athens and the Senate of Rome. We compare these with the output of historism and conclude that in the past, now, and in the future, historism, consciously and unconsciously, is reporting reliably upon the true state of the human mind which is forever being recovered, recycled, reenacted, both personally and collectively, wherever and whenever surrounding circumstances are analogous. Mircea Eliade correctly reports the universal dedication of tribal peoples to the first days of their existence. The continuity of their cultures depends upon celebrating in all major aspects of their culture the anniversaries of their birth from chaos and their reception of culture. It takes little comparative analysis to apply fitly the schizophrenic syndrome of mankind to their reliving of the first day. This is their history.
More difficult to propose and accept is our thesis here, that history, as we have known it, since 'the dawn of civilization' is also the return to illo tempore by homo schizo in search of his origins. That is, the ceremonial return to illo tempore is no more real than the true course of man's history which itself is a form of Freud's compulsive return to the original trauma.
When World War II ended, a psychiatrist, G. B. Chisholm, like many others, was wishing for an end to all the products of insanity such as war. He saw it in a basic psychological distortion that he found in all civilizations. This was "a force which discourages seeing facts, prevents intelligence, teaches mental dissociation and disregard of evidence, produces inferiority, guilt, and fear, makes controlling other people emotionally necessary, encourages prejudice and the inability to understand others."  He grasps the symptoms, but persists in superficial meliorism, ascribing the psychopathology of history to bad social policies.
Until psychiatrists, like many sociologists and statesmen, view war as neither inherent in nor an aberration of civilization, but as one way of handling primordial and civilized man's mental and life problems, it is not likely that the war problem can be structured even for preliminary analysis. Earliest mankind probably killed his kind and related kinds promiscuously and in this sense practiced war. Pericot has written that on the various series of pre-neolithic paintings in the Spanish Caves, only one depicts human combat  . But we have already argued the prevalence of early violence, and Egyptian murals deal heavily with war.
Often in history, the schizoid becomes schizophrenic, and we see a full clinical disease possessing the collectivity. One of the sharpest episodes of recent memory was the passage of the German nation from a strong self-aware kaiserdom whose schizoid traits were 'lawful' (according to the rules of international misbehavior), underground, and sublimated; to a weak dissociating-ego situation, following a traumatic war, under the Weimar Republic; to the overt schizophrenic state of Nazism; and to a post-World War II republican regime whose therapy was punishment, including self-punition, and an identity with the superpowers of the Age.
The early studies of H. D. Lasswell and F. Schuman on Hitlerism of the 1930's  have been supplemented by many more recent works; they employed the method of matching the criteria of clinical madness with the speeches and writings of Nazis, the characters of the leaders, their actions and public policies, and the response to these of German public opinion. Their conclusions are typified by this sentence from Lasswell's study: "The conscience for which [Hitler] stands is full of obsessional doubts, repetitive affirmation, resounding negations, and stern compulsions." Identification, displacement and projection, obsession, repetition, negativism, aversion and compulsions nest in this one sentence, most of what composes human nature in fact.
We note, concerning the effective Hitler appeals, the logic of metaphor, the profligate use of analogies, the 'reasoning by right brain, ' his 'effeminate intuition, ' his artistic background, and we raise a question for those who feel that the 'left brain digital logic' is somehow more at fault for violence than the 'humanist' right brain of the poet and musician.
We are reminded of a case of Bleuler. "A catatonic notified the court that his illness had been diagnosed as paranoia and the apparitions as hallucinations. 'Be that as it may, ' the patient asserted, 'there are still sufficient reasons to proceed against the gang. '"  Then we have Hitler personally conducting the massacre of his own men, many of them loyal, in the infamous purge of June 30, 1934, asserting to the German people thereafter that, granted these men may have been innocent, they still deserved to be killed because (as far as one can disentangle his words) they were guilty of making him suspicious and this was the same as threatening to destroy Germany. These alleged conspirators, agitators and destroyers were "poisoners of the wellsprings of German public opinion," a metaphor suitable also for arousing deep feminine sexual fears of impurity and impregnation, and of anti-semitism, whose folklore had utilized the same allegation against the Jews since time immemorial.
To stress the metaphorical logic, we recite, too, Mein Kampf, where Hitler had written, "All great movements are movements of the people, are volcanic eruptions of human passions and spiritual sensations, stirred either by the cruel Goddess of Misery or by the torch of the word thrown into the masses, and are not the lemonade outpourings of aestheticizing literati and drawing-room heroes." 
To generalize about history cannot be scientific, and, if scientific, cannot assemble its volumes of proof, and, if it can, it will certainly be misinterpreted. Can we agree that all history is not Nazi? Of course, but how much of history is such is a matter to report as well. If the Nazis had not deliberately put to death millions of Jews and other human beings, a German history of fifty years would not be studied as a case of collective madness. Yet it would still have been history as a recital of schizotypicality.
The Stalinists of the U. S. S. R. and its satellites largely evaded the stigma of madness; they committed millions of murders, assigning as pretexts collective mutiny as with the Kulaks and Cossacks, or military necessity as with the massacre of the Polish officer corps at the Katyn Forest, or of conspiracy against the worker's state as in the 1930's treason trials and purges that brought death to many thousands and filled the deadly concentration camps of Siberia.
Rigidity frequently takes the form of logic and principle as a feature of German character; it is a quality that will not compromise with politics or with 'how other people feel. ' This heavy schizoid trait is better camouflaged by acceptable doctrines in other nations. The Russian behavior was, for instance, generally believed to be "more human," partly because of the humanistic ideology and "underdog" connotations of marxism. When Marshal Petain, later to be condemned as a traitor, became the hero of France in World War I, it was because he took the sternest measures to insure that a million or more Frenchmen should be killed or wounded in the Battles of Verdun. The German military leaders were equally distinguished at Verdun. The American and British destruction of enemy cities in World War II were justified as combination of retaliation and military necessity. The list of such behaviors is exceedingly long and falls back to the dawn of history -- to the glee of pharaohs inscribing on their temples and tomb walls what armies of men they slew, what slaves they took, what towns they destroyed, what loot they carried home; it retires also to the Vedas of India; to the epics of Homer; to the Books of Moses and Joshua.
Yet it would be a cheap trick to let the case for homo schizo in history rest upon war and civil violence. We should appreciate that man is at war only half the time. Perhaps no more than a fifth of all deaths since humanity began have been from violence, directly or indirectly. The shadow of war and violence is always over mankind, of course, and this shadow uses the visions and rhetoric of insanity; and the history that is told is largely the stories of war, written by the greatest number of historians, and coursing through the historical senses of people en masse.
We can proceed beyond warfare to larger realms; not a trick, but as real as can be, is the claim that collective behavior can have the same psychological adjectives applied to it as individual behavior. One needs to be careful. There is no brain, heart, liver, or limbs or phallus, etc. of society except as metaphor. As the American marine general argued, when told that his national policy was to win the hearts and minds of the Vietnamese, "Grab them by the balls, and their hearts and minds will come along with them."
But if one holds to a quantitative mode of thought and discourse, one can say: "there are 2, 3, 5, 10 out of 11 persons employing the same mechanisms," and even extend this to such aggregates as the "French governing group," or even "the French people," or "a typical French practice," or "a change in German attitude" meaning over x% changed, etc. This empirical and quantitative mode of thought must be emphasized, lest, on the one hand, strange and confusing metaphors be employed and trusted -- like "the heart of the nation" -- or, on the other hand, lest it be regarded as unscientific to speak, for example, of a collectivity of persons being traumatized by a catastrophe.
What happens to a 'group' happens to the individuals composing x% of the group, or it does not happen to the group at all. When we say 'a group is schizoid, ' we mean that the traits of human nature are all operative in varying forms among the group members in subjective, interpersonal and external transactions. When we say that this group becomes Nazi, we mean that its ruling element and a significant portion if its members are acquiring a preponderance of Nazi attitudes and exhibiting Nazi behaviors. We can also say that a group depersonalizes, as Germany did following World War I, developing, as S. De Grazia has described it, an acute anomie, not being able to find itself or an appropriate image of itself  . The United States appears to have gone into such a state with the first generations to follow World War II. We await a masterly treatise along these lines, but meanwhile are diverted daily by episodes such as one momentarily in the news as these lines are written, of a fourteen year old boy who raped and murdered his girl friend and who exhibited her unburied corpse from day to day to a dozen acquaintances, none of whom called the police. This is acute anomic behavior.
However, any historic (i. e. past) behavior, whether selected randomly or chosen as an extreme test of the proposition, will exhibit the full range of schizotypicality, because that is the only way that people could ever behave, as they can only behave now. Some extraordinary incidents are chosen for their atypicality, and these compose most historiography and 'news. ' Schoolchildren read that Abraham Lincoln walked miles to repay a few pennies to a lady who had been given the wrong change in his store. Psychiatrists such as Clarke have dwelt upon this incident, in analyzing Lincoln's character.
But let us say that Lincoln gave his next customer the proper change. Isn't this a simple transaction, a bargain, a sale? What would be psychopathological about this ordinary transaction? Of course, firstly it is assumed history and not taught -- why? Because it lacked significance, significance meaning something sinister and obviously schizoid, whether positively moral or evil. Or because it would make dull reading, which is proof once removed of the same. The total setting, the total action frame of historiography is human and schizoid.
Deviancy, terror, violence, and pornography must constitute most of all that has emerged as literature, art, and history. A great many routine actions bear the stamp of rationality simply because they are conducted in an accepted cultural structure. A machine-gunner, who kills twenty men whom he has never met, is simply making small change: there is nothing psychopathological about him. There stands a fine monument to the Machine Gunners of World War I alongside Hyde Park, in London; the inscription on it reads from the Bible, "Saul slew his thousands, and David his ten thousands." (I Kings 18: 8)
Let me clarify by means of another case. In Psychopathology and Politics (1930) Lasswell speaks of the man who hates his father and tries to kill the king, and accords to such behavior a formula: that the political man (terrorist) displaces private motives (father hatred) onto public objects (king) and rationalizes it in terms of the public advantage (tyrannicide or republicanism). This sounds pathological, abnormal, and rare, but a few moments of analysis will reveal that everyone engages in precisely the same mental operations and activities in everyday life. That is, one aggregates 'private' and 'public' objects by displacements, and acts, in one way or another, similarly (so far as concerns his motivation) with regard to both types of objects.
What else has man done other than prepare for and engage in conflicts and war? He has practiced religion as much or more of the time, and it would be well if one might present a concise statistical inventory of all that has gone on in the name of religion. Without such a summary resource, and not wishing to recapitulate the extensive exposes by eighteenth and nineteenth century writers such as Voltaire, Boulanger, Feuerbach and Frazer, and especially because a more systematic analysis of religion is intended in a later volume of this series, our remarks here must be brief and linked closely to our theory.
I have elsewhere cited the ancient realization, expressed in the saying of Lucretius, Statius, and others that "First of all the gods created fear," and "First of all fear created the gods." Fear is in all life but especially in mankind. Man, upon his first full appearance, created his gods to be responsible for his fear; moreover, they were created for the major purpose of controlling his fear. If this be so, it should not surprise anyone that, since the first days of human history, religion has been the principal custodian of all the major aspects of fear. And that the general fear is incorporated in the routines of life and any particular fears that arise are invariably fitted to religious fear before they are released for testing in more pragmatic areas of life. Divine action has been the first hypothesis for explaining every event.
Continuity is perceived as pursuance of divine behavior and teachings; change is seen as a violation of or an instruction of the divine. The divine is the creator and the mediator of all things, the intervening variable between cause and consequence that is too often denied or left out by those ancients with hubris and those moderns with science.
Human behavior is continuity: will not most readers agree that religion suffuses all that is long-enduring, routinely undertaken, and traditional? And change is always a rebellion against some aspect of some religion usually in the name of another aspect of the religion or of another religion. That marxism, a non-religious doctrine of social science, is practised without a heaven and invisible god is apparent wherever it prevails, and often it rests on top of a population retaining its traditional religious affinities.
The Chinese have for millennia been fond of what we have called "ritual counting;" and when the youth of China was given a carte blanche by Mao Ze Dong in 1967 to tear down traditional institutions, including the covert religious practices of Confucianism, they were told to destroy 'the four olds, ' old thought, old culture, old customs, and old habits. The terrible aftermath was referred to popularly as "The Revenge of T'ien," the ancient living Heaven.
That religion is everywhere schizotypical is not difficult to prove, if a hypothetico-empirical science is assumed, i. e. a science based upon the tenuousness of propositions and the rules of material evidence, for this arrives speedily at Thomas Hobbes' assertion "The fear of things invisible is the Natural seed of Religion." That it is abundantly schizophrenic in the usual definition of disease, making of its practitioners either outright schizophrenes or followers of the same, also emerges from a simple and fair reading of the religious record in history. Delusions, hallucinations, paranoia, and anhedonia are at the core of every great religion and tribal sect. It is ironic in the extreme for devotees of religion to explain the madman, i. e., the assertedly schizophrenic, as one who has fallen away from religion and is therefore accursed.
Atheism abandons celestialism and anthropomorphism, but cannot, all hopes to the contrary notwithstanding, divorce itself from schizotypicality. Elsewhere, I have ventured to say that real celestial activity was the original sponsor of religion; and it has always been a reinforcer of traditional religiosity, as people view the skies once again as part of their religion. Catastrophes are breeders of typical religiosity. The seeds of many memorial generations lie dormant, awaiting the occasion of disaster to sprout.
But in the interim of calm skies, a few people become atheist and claim a capacity to think for themselves, to think in hypothetico-empirical terms, and to act pragmatically. Modern western culture is even dominated to some extent by atheistic thought. Still there is no question of a basic change in humanity occurring. The same mechanisms and processes of perception, cognition, decision and action occur, only without an area of displacements hitherto filled with the Heavenly Hosts.
An atheistic bookkeeper in a soviet machine factory, bred of three generations of urban atheists, fills his mind with identification with the dead Lenin and heroes of the communist movement: he projects his wishes into the leaders of the Soviet Union, ascribes to his boss and American imperialism feelings of hostility toward him that he feels toward them, finds solace in work and in alcohol, is scrupulous and neat to a fault, nurtures a constant cold in the head, plays psychological games with his family and neighbors, and so on. "He is a good man," they say of him and he will be buried in the earth of Mother Russia without benefit of clergy. All of which is to say that this man is of the ilk of the friar of a Byzantine monastery that once stood next to his cemetery.
Celestialism, sky-religion, which has marked the history of worship, was a contributing factor to the creation of homo schizo and primordially paramount in the filling of his mind with displacements and ideas, but man does not require a continuous experience of sky activity, nor a conscious belief in its historical or present actuality, to be either mundanely religious or atheist. However, in no case can he cast off the schizotypicality that accompanies celestial religion by becoming either mundane or atheist. "Cambia il maestro di cappella, ma la musica é sempre quella!" -- the choirmaster may be changed, but the music is always the same.
A final escape is solicited, not historical, but utopian. "Imagine a group living communally in houses of a settlements that they have built. There they grow food and animals and eat them, and fashion tools to make necessities such as clothing and furnishings. They cure disease empirically and save only enough for a rainy day. They love their children and old people and live in peace with their neighbors. They profess no religion."
Now perhaps this community has never existed. But, if it did, would not its people be called truly homo sapiens sapiens?
No. These people are apparently schizotypical. The very conception of them and the conception they have of themselves -- the utopia -- is schizoid. The utopia begs all questions of its creation and leaves us with dogmas of conduct and consequence. How they positioned themselves for the utopia is unknown. Like all utopias it is an exercise in the omnipotence of thought: to think of something is to create it.
Yet, passing over the absurdity, examine the activities of the community. All require severe consensus. How shall decisions be made, by what system of voting? What plan will be devised that is not descended from he prehistoric pillars of heaven, north-south orientation, the planetary circuitry of the walls of ancient Babylonia, the star of Saturn? What shall the diet -- that pandora's box of phobias and compulsions -- consist of? What is to be traded for the tools, or will we be here in an autarchic stone age village? What identifications are to exist between commune and neighbors? What language will be employed to deal with them: are they vous or tu? Will the diseases be all organic, to avoid problems of definition, and will psychosomatic illness be denied or absent? Can this last denial work, considering the rigorous training imparted to the children, who must, despite this heavy discipline, love themselves, their old people, and their neighbors. Much must be set ahead and back in time, too, for to love the old means to respect the olden times that the old like to talk about. Planning is everywhere: the crops to be harvested, the goods to be made, the curricula of teachings: the saving (how much?) for the rainy day (when will it next rain?). Practically all psychologists (except perhaps one such as B. F. Skinner who has written of such a place that he calls Walden II) will see in this mythical community a highly integrated and coordinated set of schizotypical human behaviors. They will foresee in it a propensity to totalitarianism and religious revival, once a disastrous threat appears from 'the friendly neighbors, ' or 'benign nature, ' or 'traveling in foreign places. ' The community is ahistorical, an impossibility. It is founded upon a non-existent kind of human nature. Should it "succeed" in any other sense, it will succeed as a grand delusion.
It may not be long before there is a general realization that the foundations of Charles Darwin's idea of the origin of species (1844) and the descent of man (1871) were intellectually weak, and that the success of Darwinism was, like that of Alexander the Great and Isaac Newton and Napoleon Bonaparte and Karl Marx and Sigmund Freud and Albert Einstein, first of all a success of the opinion thunderstorms of the times.
To repeat a theme of the first chapter of this book, Charles Darwin argued often on a post hoc ergo propter hoc basis: where organic variation existed, it must have been preceded by something less advantageous, and what brought about the change would be called "natural selection." Natural selection was more than a name to him; it was a reality, even a dogma. Influenced explicitly by Lyell who saw long, uniformitarian processes of change in the rocks of the earth, and inspired by Malthus who saw famine, war and disease as always ready to cut down a surplus population to viable proportions, Darwin could examine one form of instinctive behavior after another in animals and purport to find in their variations "consequences of one general law leading to the advancement of all organic beings, -- namely, multiply, vary, let the strongest live and the weakest die." 
This was the principle of "survival of the fittest," wrote H. Spencer, in an approving vein. A mutual approbation society grew up among economists and biologists. Its cold, dogmatic line of thought provided the largest, deepest source of aggressive laissez-faire competitiveness. To its influence, many commentators have ascribed the breakdown of the human mind in the last century-meaning the open exposure of the schizophrenia of human nature in cultures. That is, many sociologists, anthropologists, literary critics, and philosophers agree: the historism of Darwin did not settle the minds of homo schizo. He hastened the break-up of the selves system of his age.
Thus can we say that Darwin, as an historian, for that he certainly was, would have been unconsciously seeking, according to our own theory, to provide his clients with the means of controlling their ever-anxious schizoid minds. The argument is surprisingly simple, and even well-known. The minds of his clientele, the cognoscenti and literati, and the radical and socialist revolutionaries like Engels, were already in a distraught condition; for they were rejecting mosaism in religion and feudalism in politics. They were desperately agitated and impatient.
Darwinism provided a new swarm of displacements, a set of obsessive problems, an outlook for aggression against well- defined authorities, even a stable primate-mind that could view remorselessly the gradually changing social scene of nature. Darwin himself probably saw his mission, and, if his personal despair is significant, realized he had failed to accomplish it.
Despite all that has been written about him and the history of biology, much more could be said than this study can comfortably bear. I can only try to oblige Darwin's requirement, expressed in a letter to Thomas Huxley: "It would take a great deal more evidence to make me admit that forms have often changed per saltum."  I would probably suggest, too, a good psychiatrist. The "dreadful but quiet war of organic beings going on (in) the peaceful woods and smiling fields," as he put the struggle for survival, was going on in this abnormally intellectual specimen of homo schizo as well.
I think that, personally and as a typical man of his times, he could bear the infinite trench warfare of his theory more than the bombastic war of catastrophism, implied in the euphemistic word saltum, the leap. Catastrophism was the world of the Old Testament and of his father's and wife's character. He was the invalid fighting the point-by-point, day-by-day war all of his life.
On the eve of the publication of The Origin of Species, he wrote his cousin that "I have been extra bad of late, with the old severe vomiting rather often and much distressing swimming of the head. My abstract [of the manuscript on which the book was based] is the cause, I believe, of the main part of the ills to which my flesh is heir to..."  Although he had conquered conscious mental revulsion against his theories, he could not suppress the psychosomatic revolt. He was a gentle man, people agree, but with a compulsion to speak out rebelliously and aggressively in displaced intellectual forms. His world of nature was his world of struggling selves within.
I also wish that I might do a proper analysis of evolutionary theory in biology and anthropology, especially as it concerns man. Instead, I can only guarantee it to be still a happy hunting ground for the logician who is biologically trained. It abounds in evasions, question-begging, circular arguments, ex post facto 'discoveries, ' post hoc ergo propter hoc reasoning, proof by selective example, hysteron proteron, and doctrinaire assertions. This is all aside from the paucity of evidence on important issues, the failure to recognize important issues, and the entanglement in trivial research.
The final nemesis is the ever-present, ever-available two-way switch between the genetic pool and natural selection. Natural selection can never fail as the means of evolution because it will always presumptively find among the genes of any species whatever precise gene, unknown of course, is needed to explain a given step in evolution. With this suppositious entity, any hole in the hulk of natural selection can be plugged. This is gene 'Q, ' the potential quirk that conveniently enters the gene pool prior to whenever the time arrives for it to be called forth, potentiality into actuality.
If these allegations are deemed too severe, I may at least hope that biologists, psychologists, and anthropologists will realize in them a suggestion of the need for an explicit union of social, psychological, and biological theory. Also, in the course of writing this volume, it became clear to me that I was presenting neo-darwinists with a strong and original argument for their case, even while establishing my own case. This has occurred by locating and simplifying the instinct-delay mechanism as the force of transition from primate to man. It is a factor that is to a high degree quantitative and therefore could be considered capable of sustaining many minute changes by mutation and adaptation over long periods of time. I hope that this bonus will compensate my critics for reading what otherwise may have appeared to be an offensive attack upon "the true facts" of evolution and culture theory.
1. The Ghost in the Machine, N. Y.: Macmillan, 1968, 266.
2. Perry, Roots of Renewal in Myth and Madness, 80.
3. The Hero with a Thousand Faces, Princeton, N. J.: Princeton Univ. Press, 1949, 88.
4. Life Against Death, N. Y.: Vintage, 1959.
5. K. M. Colby, "Clinical Implications of a Simulation Model of Paranoid Processes," 33 Arch. Gen. Psychiatry (July, 1976), 854-7, 855-6.
6. Wen-Shing Tseng, "The Development of Psychiatric Concepts in Traditional Chinese Medicine," 29 Arch. Gen. Psychiatry (October, 1973), 569.
7. A. de Grazia, The Disastrous Love Affair of Moon and Mars, publ. in xerox, 1968; Princeton: Metron publ., 1983.
8. Myth and Guilt, New York: Braziller, 1957.
9. Julian Jaynes, The Origins of Consciousness...., Boston, Houghton Mifflin, 1976; A. de Grazia, God's Fire: Moses and the Management of Exodus, Princeton: Metron Publ., 1983.
10. Berkeley: U. of Calif. Press, 1968.
11. Phaedrus 244-a, quoted in Dodds, op. cit., 64.
12. Unpubl. xerox mss, 1976, kindly supplied by the author.
13. The Psychology of Dementia Praecox, (1939), Princeton U. Press, 1960, 162.
14. Ibid., 180-1.
15. C. Jung, The Psychogenesis of Mental Diseases, Princeton U. Press, 1957, 165.
16. "The Reestablishment of Perceptive Society." IX Psychiatry (1946).
17. In S. L. Washburn, ed., Social Life of Early Man, London: Methuen, 1961.
18. Lasswell, "Psychology of Hitlerism," in The Analysis of Political behavior, New York; Oxford U. Press, 1947. Frederick Schuman, The Nazi Dictatorship, New York: Knopf, 1935.
19. Eugen Bleuler, Dementia, Praecox, or the Group of Schizophrenia, 1911, J. Zinkin, tr., N. Y.: Int'l U. Press, 1950, 128.
20. From Houston Peterson, ed., Great Speeches, N. Y.: Simon and Schuster, 1965, 757, 759.
21. The Political Community, Chicago: U. of Chicago Press, 1948.
22. Origin of Species, 1859, ed. 1936, 208.
23. Life and Letters, II (1860) 274.
24. Ralph Colp, To be an Invalid: The Life of Charles Darwin, Chicago: U of C. Press, (1977).