Author Archives: Anna

The next feature article

Some keen readers may have noticed that The Inkling has not published a feature article since November last year (when Sustainability was posted). There is another feature in the pipeline, but because it is bigger and better than the first two it is much harder and more time consuming to prepare. To keep you entertained in the meantime, The Inkling has decided to give you some idea of what goes on when The Inkling writes these articles.

Communist Party Headquarters

By The Inkling

While trying to work how we can achieve happiness and sustainability I’ve sought interviews with people from different Australian political parties, but the most surprising so far has been my visit to the Communist Party headquarters in Sydney.

The Communist Party of Australia’s website directed me to Denis Doherty as National Organiser for the CPA. The website also had an abundance of reading material, including a communist perspective of local political activity in Australia. I wondered whether that venomous man at the polling booth had read all this material.

Denis promptly replied to my email and gave me his mobile phone number so we could arrange an interview.  He was kind and friendly to me on the phone, and gave the impression of being happy to meet with me. He was flexible with his time and gave me plenty of helpful directions to make sure I had no problem finding their address.

The office was nestled amongst terrace houses, warehouses and show rooms in a respectably quiet, leafy inner-city street.  As I pressed the buzzer, I imagined being led down a creaky staircase into some dark, underground bunker, where I would be hand cuffed and interrogated by bearded, manic-eyed men in berets, smoking cigars. I was brought back to reality by Denis’ familiar, friendly voice on the intercom, telling me he would be right down to meet me.  Soon after, I was surprised, once again, when a cheerful, white bearded man met me at the front door and welcomed me inside.

I was struck by all the typical communist paraphernalia displayed around the reception area; lots of crescents and stars and a portrait of Lenin overseeing operations. It was like peering through a window into another time, and yet there were also posters and headlines crying out references to current worldwide political issues.  I was led through a maze of small offices and cubicles where editorial staff were busy at work producing the CPA’s publication The Guardian.  I was presented to some wholesome looking people in woolen jumpers who smiled brief, absent minded greetings as we dodged boxes of books and pamphlets.

I was amused to see a modestly-sized Buddhist shrine with a water feature occupying a large corner of the 2nd storey landing.  Denis told me it had been left there by the previous tenants, and no one had had the heart to remove it.

My tour came to its conclusion when we reached the boardroom, which I could tell by Denis’s enthusiastic introduction, was his favorite part. He was particularly proud, when he turned on the lights, to reveal a large mural which filled an entire wall, running lengthways down the long, thin room. He explained to me that this was a reproduction of the Sydney Wharfies Mural, which had been painted on the walls of the Waterside Workers’ Federation Australia headquarters in Sussex Street, Sydney from 1953 – 1965. It must be a powerful backdrop to the meetings that take place in that boardroom.

What I quickly discovered from Denis was how patient and determined the CPA is in their approach to bringing about change.  There is none of the fiery rebellion or radical action that one might associate with far-left revolutionary parties. Denis was adamant about the CPA’s adherence to a slow and steady campaign, and to separate themselves from any kind of rash, high impact or attention-seeking behavior. He passionately opposes these “stunts”, and refers to the many cases where the tactless, obnoxious anger and aggression of other parties has been detrimental to the efforts made by the CPA through careful negotiation and gradual, but stable cooperation. He said that the party can always improve its performance, its rigour and its attention to detail in pursuing its objectives, sometimes however members can be like Brown’s Cows and be inattentive.  On the whole they are very committed and active.

Now more than ever I wondered why the word “communism” is such an unspeakable, touchy word that triggers distaste and rejection.  If the actions of the CPA were really as peaceful and non-threatening as they appeared to be, then is it what the CPA stands for that upsets people?

Denis puts the Communist agenda very simply. “We aim for, public ownership of housing, of medicine, education, etc, and we are competing against the neo-Liberal, or economic rationalists’ ideology.”

After more than two hours of discussion Denis ended on a positive note “There’s that continuous battle going on between capitalism and socialism, and even though capitalism thinks it’s won, it still brings up these old issues of Soviet agents, and it still goes on, and it’s still a battle of ideas. But we still think we can win.”


The Inklings: Chapter 30

When D’arby got to the workshop after breakfast Ark was the only person still waiting there. Everyone else had already gone to start the garlic harvest. Ark handed D’arby a small shovel and a dented stainless steel drink bottle and they headed off to join the others.

On the way Ark remarked that he didn’t mind Jinabu staying in his house, but that having Andrew there too was pushing the boundaries of his generosity.

“You don’t know when Andrew is planning to leave, do you? He must have a job to go back to, surely?” Ark asked D’arby.

Unfortunately D’arby couldn’t provide an answer, but did promise to try to find out.

D’arby and Ark soon arrived at the garlic crop, where about a dozen adults were busy digging up garlic bulbs and several grubby children were running around. After the garlic bulbs were dug up they were placed gently on the back of Ark’s truck.

By mid afternoon D’arby was as much an expert at removing leaches as he was at digging up garlic. Fortunately though, only a few garlic bulbs remained in the ground and the spirits of the pickers were rising. They’d gone without a lunch break in order to finish the job earlier. As the last garlic bulbs were placed on the truck there were cheers. Then Ark got into his truck and drove slowly and carefully off towards the drying shed. By now most minds were on the home brew fridge at the workshop.

Meanwhile, Andrew and Jinabu were preparing dinner together silently, while each of them reflected on what had been a strange day.

The baby had slept most of the day and hadn’t cried at all. This meant that Jinabu had been able to gather her thoughts.

Andrew had also been able to gather his thoughts, but he put that down to the excellent cup of coffee that D’arby had made for him.

When Jinabu got up that morning she was already in a better mood than she’d been for a while. She’d had quite a bit of sleep during the night and could smell that there was a nice breakfast waiting for her.

As Jinabu ate her eggs Andrew watched and wondered whether it was a good time to talk about going home. Andrew had never before wished he could read Jinabu’s mind. “I’ve always assumed I knew what she was thinking” realized Andrew.

Without meaning to, Andrew began to think out loud. “I’m sorry” he said to Jinabu. Jinabu stopped chewing and stared at Andrew. She wanted to talk but her mouth was full. As she swallowed her eggs Jinabu imagined what Andrew would have said if she’d spat out her half-chewed eggs so she could reply faster.

Finally Jinabu was able to reply with “Which thing are you saying sorry for?”

Andrew felt hurt by that comment. He wondered how many thing Jinabu had on her list, but he decided to stay on track and answer Jinabu’s question. “For saying you weren’t respectable and insisting that you change, and all the other things I said on Sunday.”

“And for calling my family ‘useless?’” Jinabu asked

Andrew wanted to say no, but realized that he could say something that might make them both satisfied “I’m sorry for calling your family useless hippies” said Andrew, while thinking “Now that I’ve seen the people here I wouldn’t call your family hippies anymore.”

Andrew really was feeling sorry for what he’d said to Jinabu, but it was more for practical than emotional reasons. He and Jinabu had a child now, which would tie them together forever, whether they liked it or not. When Andrew weighed up the embarrassment that Jinabu would sometimes cause him against the upset and inconvenience that would be caused by her refusing to come back to him, it became clear that he’d be better off letting Jinabu be herself if it meant that the three of them could live together in some kind of harmony.

Jinabu was also thinking practically. She realized that it would probably be harder for her to be a single mother than to put up with the stuff Andrew sometimes said.

After breakfast Jinabu and Andrew went for a walk. Andrew carried the baby and Jinabu carried the camera. As they explored the farm they tried to agree on a baby name. Jinabu pretended she wanted him to be called Carob, just to see how far she could push Andrew that day, but Andrew could tell that she was joking. They still didn’t agree on a name but at least they weren’t being rude to each other.

Then Andrew changed the topic and started to talk about his plans for when he got back home. At first he used “I need to” and “I want to” and then he sneakily replaced the beginning of his sentences with “We should”. This was his indirect way of asking Jinabu whether she would come back with him. Jinabu listened and nodded and eventually started adding things to the list, saying “We also need to”. When Jinabu did this Andrew became almost giddy with happiness – he was so relieved that they would soon be back to their regular, respectable life. Eventually Andrew and Jinabu calculated that they needed to leave for home the next day in order to have enough time to get all their jobs done before Andrew’s paternity leave was over.


The Inklings: Chapter 29

The next morning Mamadou got up early. He was feeling much better. There had been a big dinner the night before, thanks to Saidou, who had brought home as much cassava, okra, tomatoes and onions as he could carry.

“If only there were some tea then life would be complete” thought Mamadou.

Mamadou took his letter and went outside, hoping to find a place that was both quiet and catching the early sun so he could have a go at reading the letter. He didn’t expect that he’d be able to understand it completely, but hoped that he’d be able to work out enough to help him decide what to do next. If the letter contained something he didn’t mind sharing then he’d look for someone to help him read it properly.

The letter started in the usual way, with a greeting. Mamadou skipped to the bottom of the page to read who the letter was from, but it wasn’t anyone he knew. Then he looked at the top of the page to see their address and what he saw made his heart start racing. He furiously started trying to read the whole letter.

The first paragraph seemed to be warning him of what was to come in the rest of the letter. Mamadou successfully read the phrase “I hope this doesn’t come as too much of a shock.”

Mamadou stopped and took a few deep breaths, then read on.

When he got to the bit that said “you have a son” Mamadou was shocked. He read it again and again, to make sure he understood correctly.

From what Mamadou understood, the rest of the letter was asking him if he’d be happy for his son to contact him and that his son would like to bring Mamadou to come and live with him.

Mamadou got up and ran off to find someone who could help him write a reply.


The next feature article

Some keen readers may have noticed that The Inkling has not published a feature article since November last year (when Sustainability was posted). There is another feature in the pipeline, but because it is bigger and better than the first two it is much harder and more time consuming to prepare. To keep you entertained in the meantime, The Inkling has decided to explain why these feature articles were chosen and to give you some idea of what goes on when The Inkling writes these articles.

How it all started: Three big questions

By The Inkling

I’ve never been much of a fan of knowing things just for the sake of knowing them. I wanted my quest to result in something useful. I wanted my answers to all these little questions to add up to something – to some big answers to big questions. I wanted to assemble the information into some sort of guide, some sort of plan. A big picture. A vision.

I needed some structure to work within so I made a couple of assumptions and came up with three big questions.

My first big question was “What makes us happy?” – and my assumption was that people want to be happy. I don’t mean the silly-grin kind of happy. I mean a content kind of happy. Where people have what they need to lead full lives. The results of this investigation can be found in the post called “Happiness”.

My second big question was “How can we be sustainable”. This was personal, but I justified it with the assumption that people don’t really want to crash and burn – that we’d like to be able to carry on without disaster, that deep down in our hearts we’d prefer not to destroy the planet and each other. The results of this investigation can be found in the post called “Sustainability”.

Then the third question, the biggest one of all, was “How can we achieve happiness and sustainability?”. To answer this question I’m looking at many things, including political and economic systems, the policies of the political parties in this country and how economies and monetary systems “work” (or how people think and expect that they work, at least). I’m learning a lot (I have to) and it is taking a long time. So you don’t get too sick of waiting, I’ll be sharing little tidbits of information with you from time to time.


The Inklings: Chapter 28

Despite being woken a couple times during the night – first by a slightly drunk Ark returning home for dinner and then later by the baby crying – D’arby woke up feeling refreshed.

The air was humid and smelt of a mixture of some unfamiliar kind of plant plus a little bit of mould, but D’arby still found it fresh.

When D’arby got out of bed he was shocked to find that he’d been attacked during the night. He was covered in blood, and so were the bed sheets. He didn’t feel any pain though. Then he found a swollen leech amongst the sheets and realized what had happened. He must have picked up the leech on the walk back from the workshop. He gathered up the sheets and went to look for a bucket to soak them in.

Andrew was up and about but Jinabu and the baby were asleep. Andrew had also been attacked. He was sitting in the sun with a pair of tweezers, bending over and looking at his stomach. “I have a tick” said Andrew as soon as he saw D’arby.

“I had a leech” replied D’arby, and showed Andrew the sheets and a bite on his ankle.

“I really don’t like this place!” complained Andrew. His voice sounded whiney. D’arby hoped that Andrew wouldn’t start crying.

When Andrew and D’arby had both dealt with their parasites they started making breakfast. D’arby offered to make the coffee but Andrew, who had heard about D’arby’s coffee from Jinabu, insisted on doing that himself and asked D’arby if he would make some scrambled eggs.

D’arby agreed, and rummaged around looking for a frying pan, oil, eggs and powdered milk while keeping one eye on Andrew so he could see how he was going to make the coffee.

Andrew looked hopefully through Ark’s kitchen equipment for the coffee plunger, but it had gone. “Maybe Ark has got his plunger” commented Andrew. “How am I going to make the coffee without one? I should have bought a tin of instant coffee!” said Andrew.

“I’ll do it then” said D’arby, “You make the eggs, and, can you make up a bit of extra milk up for the coffee too?”

And so D’arby took the coffee and a saucepan and got to work, leaving Andrew to read the instructions on the tin of milk powder. Andrew’s hopes for a nice breakfast were not high. He had hoped that D’arby would make some nice fluffy eggs. Andrew loved scrambled eggs but wasn’t any good at making them. At least I have my chocolate for later, thought Andrew. And then he realized that he hadn’t seen the chocolate that morning. “Where’s my chocolate gone?” moaned Andrew as he looked around. “Do you think Ark took that as well as the plunger?”

Ark chose that moment to appear. He was carrying his coffee plunger, which he put down loudly on the kitchen bench. “I think it should be alright for a man to use his own friggin coffee plunger without being accused of stealing chocolate. The bush rats probably took it.”

D’arby couldn’t help laughing. He thought Ark must have been joking about the bush rats.

“No, I’m serious!” said Ark. “The bush rats do like chocolate.”

Andrew wanted to start moaning about hating the place again, but instead he managed to squeeze out a “Sorry.” to Ark. Then he went back to mixing up some milk.

Ark obviously couldn’t wait for Andrew to leave his house. Andrew couldn’t wait to leave either, but he wasn’t going to go until Jinabu came with him. Ark invited D’arby down to the workshop after breakfast, then took a towel and left.

In the end, D’arby made the coffee and the eggs and some toast, while Andrew went looking around the house for his chocolate. Andrew returned about ten minutes later carrying an unwrapped misshapen piece of chocolate. He showed D’arby the tooth marks around the edges with a mixture of disgust and wonder. “Do you think it would be safe to eat the middle if I trim all the chewed bits off?” asked Andrew.

As Andrew carefully removed the contaminated portion of his chocolate bar, D’arby served the breakfast and coffee. D’arby made sure that Andrew wasn’t looking and then dropped two little pills into Andrew’s coffee and gave it a good stir.


The next feature article

Some keen readers may have noticed that The Inkling has not published a feature article since November last year (when Sustainability was posted). There is another feature in the pipeline, but because it is bigger and better than the first two it is much harder and more time consuming to prepare. To keep you entertained in the meantime The Inkling has decided to explain why these feature articles were chosen and to give you some idea of what goes on when The Inkling writes these articles.

How it all started: Election Day 2011

By The Inkling

I was wearing a red hat and strayed too close to a polling booth when I was called a Communist. The man said it with venom, and a few bubbles of spit came out of his mouth. I shrugged my shoulders. I didn’t really know what a Communist was. Then later it started to worry me.

I didn’t know what a Communist was! Did the man who called me a Communist know what a Communist was? Shouldn’t I know what a Communist was, especially if people seemed to think I was one? And if I wasn’t a Communist then what was I?

For days and months these sorts of questions kept popping into my head, but they became broader. What political and economic systems are there? Which one is the best? What is “best”? What should the system be achieving?

Then it became even more personal. What should I be trying to achieve? How can I achieve it?

Eventually I couldn’t bear my ignorance anymore and I decided I’d have to find answers for all these questions.


The Inklings: Chapter 27

Mamadou was hungry. He had a strong headache and wished he could have a cup of tea and a bowl of rice, but there wasn’t any. They always ran out of food before the end of the ration period. Last night Mamadou had given his dinner to Howa, because he’d noticed how her baby started crying more frequently in the last couple of days before a food delivery and suspected that Howa wasn’t always able to make enough breast milk.

Saidou had snuck off early that morning to try to get some work in the nearest town. Howa and Mamadou worried about him doing this – sometimes refugees were attacked when they left the camp because some of the locals resented them for taking jobs that they might otherwise have been given – but when the food ran out Howa and Mamadou lost the strength to worry. Saidou would always bring back food.

Normally (when he wasn’t too hungry) Mamadou would try to be useful – groups of men would gather together and go looking for suitable jobs, like helping build shelters and sometimes Mamadou would go to the camp school to help teach the kids. But today Mamadou’s hunger and headache meant he wasn’t up to much at all.

To take his mind of his headache and empty stomach, Mamadou decided to take a walk around the camp. He could see some cars coming in the front gate and wandered over to see if the people in them had any news. A crowd quickly gathered around. They were trying to keep a respectable distance from the visitors and the aid workers who were meeting them, but were finding it hard.

Mamadou watched for a while but nothing exciting seemed to be happening and he couldn’t hear what the visitors were saying over everyone else’s chatter. He had just set off to see what was going on at the camp school when he thought he heard someone yelling out his name. He turned around. One of the aid workers and one of the visitors were making their way through the crowd, waving their arms above their heads and yelling out his name.

Mamadou approached and the visitor, speaking English, asked Mamadou if he spoke English. Mamadou responded that he did. The visitor said “Good! This is for you” and handed Mamadou an envelope. The visitor was then mobbed by other people, who hoped he would also give them an envelope so Mamadou retreated, holding his envelope close to his body.

Mamadou walked back to the one room shelter that he, Howa and Saidou shared. Nobody was there. Mamadou could hear lots of voices next door and thought that Howa was probably helping the neighbours with their cooking (since she didn’t have any food to cook that day). Mamadou hoped that someone they knew would have enough food to share with them that night. People tried to make sure nobody went hungry but sometimes they all ran out of food at the same time.

Mamadou sat down on the floor, opened the envelope and took out the letter inside it. It was written in English. Mamadou had suspected it would be. He could speak English, but he could scarcely read it! “Maybe when my headache goes away I will be able to” thought Mamadou. He got up and went to see if he could find Howa.


The Inklings: Chapter 26

It was only when D’arby got off the bus that he realized that the town he was supposed to meet Ark in was quite large and that he should have organized a specific place to meet him at. D’arby decided to wait at the bus stop for a while, in case Ark was on his way there, but when an hour had passed D’arby couldn’t wait anymore. His bladder was about to burst and he was tired, hungry and a bit itchy.

D’arby walked along the main street, looking for a place that might have either a toilet or be somewhere where Ark might hang out while waiting for a bus. As he passed a small supermarket D’arby noticed a familiar face – Jinabu’s husband Andrew was buying groceries. If D’arby hadn’t been in need of help he might have hidden from Andrew, but instead he just stood there and waited for Andrew to notice him.

“There you are!” said Andrew. He seemed happy to see D’arby and so D’arby couldn’t help giving him a smile even though he was disappointed that Andrew had found Jinabu so quickly. Andrew explained to D’arby that he was supposed to be picking him up instead of Ark, but that he didn’t know where the bus stop was or when the bus was going to arrive and so had decided to do some shopping and hope that D’arby would recognize his car. D’arby didn’t really want to hear explanations, he just wanted to know where the public toilets were, and fortunately Andrew knew.

The car trip from the town to “the farm” was a bit uncomfortable. Andrew tried a few times to start a conversation but D’arby didn’t make enough effort for it to develop into anything. D’arby thought that Andrew looked a bit strange, as if he couldn’t decide whether he should be delighted at having a healthy baby boy or whether he should be wallowing in self pity over the way that Jinabu ran off and had the baby by the side of the road.

When D’arby and Andrew arrived Jinabu seemed happier to see the groceries than either of them. She was tired and very hungry and it was dinner time. D’arby held the baby for a little while, but the baby soon started to cry and Jinabu had to take him back. The baby still hadn’t been named because Andrew and Jinabu couldn’t agree on a name.

Andrew and D’arby worked together to cook some dinner by candlelight. Andrew struggled a bit with Ark’s limited kitchen facilities, but D’arby was pleasantly surprised. There was running water at the sink and the two-burner gas camping stove was just as effective as what he was used to using at home. There were even two sharp knives and two cutting boards, which meant that he and Andrew could both chop veggies at the same time.

Andrew held the baby while Jinabu and D’arby had dinner. Ark was still down at “the workshop”, which, as well as really being a workshop, was the farm meeting place. The workshop had electricity connected and so it was where the community home brew fridge was kept. It was also the only place you could have a hot shower.

After dinner Andrew kindly took D’arby on a torch-lit walk to the workshop. It was not an easy walk in the dark and D’arby wouldn’t have bothered having a shower if he hadn’t felt so grimy and itchy.

At the workshop Ark and three other men were sitting around chatting, drinking beer and pretending to be carving some wooden lettering into signs. Andrew waited for D’arby to have a shower, but didn’t join the other people in the workshop. Instead he sat outside getting bitten by mosquitoes. Andrew knew nobody there liked him, and he didn’t like anyone else there very much either. He planned to stick as close as possible to D’arby while D’arby was there. Andrew hoped that D’arby might help him convince Jinabu to come home, and soon!

D’arby felt much better after his shower. The itchiness went away and he began to feel quite comfortable. Andrew had made up a bed for D’arby, and had placed brand new toothbrush on the pillow (in his haste to find a toilet D’arby had forgotten to buy one when they were in town and he wondered how Andrew had anticipated that he would need a toothbrush). D’arby had his own room and the bed had a mosquito net. Jinabu, Andrew and the baby were sleeping in the other bedroom and Ark had moved into the caravan near the house. D’arby listened to the sound of frogs croaking as he fell asleep.


The Inklings: Chapter 25

Syafika wasn’t able to concentrate on her work. Normally her solution to this was to go and get a coffee, but today she didn’t feel like one, which made her suspect that John had been lying when he’d said that the pizza they’d eaten the night before didn’t have any of D’arby’s special pills in it.

Syafika had been shaken by what had happened the night before. She was upset that she had disappointed Vincent, but she was also annoyed that he thought he could order her around. Ultimately she didn’t want to stop seeing John and D’arby, but was wondering whether Vincent was wiser than she was. Perhaps Vincent could tell that those two were going to get her into trouble one day.

“Maybe some music will help me decide what I should do” thought Syafika and she took her headphones and the CD that Vincent had given her out of her bag. The music wasn’t new – it sounded familiar to Syafika, but she didn’t really like it. Then the phone rang. It was Vincent. He wanted to know whether Syafika liked the CD. Syafika tried to fake enthusiasm for the music. She was genuinely happy that Vincent had called though. He didn’t sound angry. It seemed that things were back to normal. Syafika also liked it that he’d called as soon as she’d started listening to the music. “Our minds must be working in tune!” she thought.

After talking to Vincent Syafika’s thoughts were much clearer. She decided she wouldn’t stop seeing John and D’arby, but wouldn’t have the meetings at her house anymore. She didn’t think it was worth causing dramas by telling Fanta, John and D’arby that she wasn’t going to be part of their plans anymore because she didn’t really think their plans would come to anything, and if things did start to happen she could quit then.

Fanta was also at work and distracted. She’d just sold another house and was doing paper work without really thinking about what she was doing. Now that she had finished uni Fanta knew that she really should be getting a new job so she could make use of her degree, and yet it seemed so much easier to just keep on working part time as a real estate agent, especially when she was just beginning to realise that there were probably many other more important things that she should be giving her attention to.

When Fanta got home a bit later, her aunt and uncle were there, going through some complicated documents. They were helping Fanta with her secret project – or actually more than just helping. Fanta wouldn’t have been able to even start the project without their help.


When Sparks are Ignored: Lobotomies

Humans are capable of some brilliant things, but they can also do some really stupid things. Sometimes it is the most brilliant people who do the stupidest things, and sometimes it takes a while for everyone else to realise how silly these things are. Lobotomies are one example that causes particular pain to Sparks.

A lobotomy is an operation where the connections between the prefrontal cortex (part of the frontal lobes) and rest of the brain are severed. The prefrontal cortex is where the executive functions of the brain are performed (such as reasoning and understanding, creativity, planning, attention, problem solving, inhibition, mental flexibility, and the initiation and monitoring of actions).The idea behind disconnecting the prefrontal cortex is that this leads to the uncoupling of emotions and intellect.

Lobotomies were developed in 1935 by neurologists Dr. Antonio Egas Moniz and Dr. Almeida Lima as a treatment for mental illnesses, including anxiety, depression and schizophrenia. If you were considered extremely emotional, difficult or moody you might also have been given a lobotomy. They were given to criminals, to problem family members and to patients who would otherwise have taken up hospital beds.

As you may know, when Sparks visit human brains they inhabit the frontal lobes. This is because Sparks are looking to interact with the intellect and because the frontal lobes are where all good ideas are formed. If you were to lose the function of your frontal lobes you’d be left with what is sometimes called the reptilian part of the brain. The reptilian part of the brain runs on reward and punishment. It is not capable of abstract thinking (like imagining the likely consequences of actions or understanding another person’s feelings or motives). Obviously if you lost the function of your frontal lobes you’d also lose the opportunity to be influenced by a Spark.

Many Sparks joined forces to try to stop the lobotomy craze taking off, but they weren’t successful because not all brains are receptive to Sparks and the type of people who sanctioned and performed lobotomies turned out to be the least receptive. The potential patients were far more receptive to Sparks, but they were also often powerless or overcome by other problems, and in the end there was just not enough time – most people seemed to want a solution that was convenient rather than good.

Instead, lobotomies were made even easier by Walter Freeman. The first lobotomies involved drilling holes into the skull on either side of the prefrontal cortex and injecting the connecting fibres with alcohol to destroy them. So that lobotomies could be given to more people, Walter Freeman came up with a technique that was faster, more accessible and less expensive. This involved getting to the prefrontal cortex through the eye sockets instead. His method has become known as the “ice pick lobotomy”, because he developed the technique using an ice pick and eventually used an instrument (orbitoclast) that resembled an ice pick.

The ice pick lobotomy could be done by non surgeons and didn’t require an operating room. It took around 10 minutes to perform. The patient was made unconscious using electroconvulsive shock instead of anaesthetic. The orbitoclast was pushed up through the top of one eye-socket. Then, after a light tap on the end with a hammer, the orbitoclast would break through the thin layer of bone and enter the brain. Next the fibres connecting the prefrontal cortex were then broken by twiddling the orbitoclast around a bit. The procedure was then repeated on the other side (via the other eye socket).

Sparks weren’t even able to stop Dr Moniz being given the Nobel Prize in 1949 for his lobotomy work. Things began to turn around when the USSR banned lobotomies in 1953, but it was really the invention of drugs as a replacement that meant that Lobotomies began to decline in the 1950s.

Some people were happy with their lobotomies, as some people are happy taking drugs today. But many people suffered and many died. Those of you who still have the connection between intellect and emotion may like to listen to Josef Hassid play the violin (pre-lobotomy) while reading about him and nine other notable lobotomy patients.