“Some,” Alistair admitted “It's no excuse, but I tried to reason with myself, to tell myself they were evil, hardly human. Rapists, murderers, and child touchers. I would kill them when I found them.”

The iron hand of despotism has quenched the last spark of liberty; hunted down like a wild beast, I am watching an opportunity to fly my degraded and enslaved country.

Turn left at the traffic lights and the hospital is on your right.

One could analyze the major Japanese novelist Yukio Mishima in the same way, but Mailer, who has grown ever more feeblemindedly male supremacist over the years, has saved us the trouble by providing worshipful writings about Mishima's obsession with manhood, militarism, and death, his contribution to the Mishima cult of necrophiliac androlatry that has sprung up since the latter's suicide.