From an ordinary human's perspective.

All my life I wanted to do something to help people. Come to think about it, I desired to reach out into the undesirables and pull them up into greatness. As time progressed I found myself growing hungry and nothing seemed to quench my stomach's quails. My drive was so intense that I embarked in an expedition to study crime, but only to learn a system founded on rehabilitative principles that practiced inhibition, invalidation, stunting growth, "restitution", and the disappearance of individuality. It makes perfect sense, here is why: as I learned, I knew where the gaps needed filling, where my work would render the most efficiency, where the difference had potential to evolve from. I interned at FMHA as an undergraduate, which catapulted me into an Applied Psychology program at NYU's Steinhardt; I loved it. I now want to help in the tx of persons who've committed sexual offenses. I am unsure if the fact that my (then) new found passion laying within this population is what led me to feel this way about "Lolita" by Nabokov, but I must make clear that I do not condone, nor do I think that such behavior is acceptable in any regard.

Still I found myself submerged into the conscious world of the protagonist or was it the antagonist?-- let's just say the narrator--all the while I aimed at discovering what laid in the subconscious to no avail as I wrapped myself in what was happening, what wasn't happening, and what was left to happen. I found myself cheering for the narrator as I conveniently, I presume, forgot that his heart's beat was creating the music of love for a Dolores Haze, Lola to some, but Lolita to him...a mere child of about 11years of age (upon their first encounter).

Page after page the reader is revealed secret after secret,  is introduced to a new way of loving; however detrimental it had been to the child, one seems to find the "facts" irrelevant. Here is where I want to proceed to make a grand point. Although Nabokov has excelled in capturing the psyche of a fictional character, capturing the attention of its audience, of writing in superb eloquence, as his novel was reflective of expressive and articulate idiom, he stands to show that as a people, I being a prime example, we are desensitized to an extreme where such things as the plot and narration of the novel seems to be entertaining, rather than disturbing.

It is not just in this particular media, rather it is in all forms of media in combination with high frequency exposure that we become accustomed to seeing, hearing, letting be (even if not accepting), and tolerating that which should not. This blog was not written from a mental health counselor role, but it was indeed written after some reflection and hopefully with some intellect.