If you take someone’s thoughts and feelings away, bit by bit, consistently, then they have nothing, except some gritty, gnawing, shitty little instinct, down there, somewhere, worming around the gut, but so far down, so hidden, its impossible to find. Imagine, if you will, a worldwide conspiracy to deny the existence of the colour yellow, you would say: that isn’t yellow, course it isn’t, blue or green or purple, or.... You’d say it, yes it is, it’s yellow, and become increasingly hysterical, and then go quite berserk.