[It's something he understands—most ghouls would sneer at a chance of being called "inhuman," largely because people, to them, are little more than sheep or cattle. Livestock, trying to devalue their predators by saying they lacked something humans themselves devised as a way to give things value. Didn't make an ounce of difference, in the end.
Because, in Kaneki's opinion, humans were just as grievously wrong in the situation as ghouls were. Not that it was really either side's fault—the world was wrong from the start, rotten to its core. He has no love for grand abstracts.
And it's funny. Months ago, he would've refused anything "ghoul," clinging obstinately to his "humanity." Things change.]
FROM: kaneki.ken@cdc.org
It depends, doesn't it? The victim of the first might see that killer as a monster, but they wouldn't know anything about that person or someone pulling their strings.
For the two you've described, well. I've been thoroughly impressed with what people have been able to rationalize to themselves.
If you are asking me personally, though, I'm afraid I might not be able to give you a very good answer. I'd say both are human and monster simultaneously. People often do monstrous things for reasons that others would say are very human.
[Kaneki had been cobbled together into a Frankenstein's monster, forced into a way of life he could scarcely accept, one that necessitated others' sacrifice and death to keep him living. The man who had made him that way had claimed to do it for the greater good—and too bad that he didn't want to work together, he had been such a valuable subject to throw away. Who was human and who was the monster? Much of the reason why Kaneki couldn't answer directly was because he was still trying to work out the answer himself.]
FROM: kaneki.ken@cdc.org
I wouldn't say that. I apologize; it's just very "science fiction" for me to accept immediately.
no subject
Because, in Kaneki's opinion, humans were just as grievously wrong in the situation as ghouls were. Not that it was really either side's fault—the world was wrong from the start, rotten to its core. He has no love for grand abstracts.
And it's funny. Months ago, he would've refused anything "ghoul," clinging obstinately to his "humanity." Things change.]
FROM: kaneki.ken@cdc.org
It depends, doesn't it? The victim of the first might see that killer as a monster, but they wouldn't know anything about that person or someone pulling their strings.
For the two you've described, well. I've been thoroughly impressed with what people have been able to rationalize to themselves.
If you are asking me personally, though, I'm afraid I might not be able to give you a very good answer. I'd say both are human and monster simultaneously. People often do monstrous things for reasons that others would say are very human.
[Kaneki had been cobbled together into a Frankenstein's monster, forced into a way of life he could scarcely accept, one that necessitated others' sacrifice and death to keep him living. The man who had made him that way had claimed to do it for the greater good—and too bad that he didn't want to work together, he had been such a valuable subject to throw away. Who was human and who was the monster? Much of the reason why Kaneki couldn't answer directly was because he was still trying to work out the answer himself.]
FROM: kaneki.ken@cdc.org
I wouldn't say that. I apologize; it's just very "science fiction" for me to accept immediately.
And it makes you... grow younger? [Um...]