between Makishima and the hacker Choe Gu-Sung – who really does appear to be his right-hand man. These have tended to be the best scenes in P-P, especially when Makishima is involved, and it’s here that the aforementioned allusions to dystopian fiction took place. Makishima is undeniably a fascinating man, and his comments on fiction and his preference for paper books over e-books reveal a lot about what drives him. “Reading is a form of meditation” indeed, and Makishima – cold-blooded serial murderer that he is – is something of a philosopher altogether. When he and Gu-Sung express their view that they’re perfectly ordinary people and that it’s the rest of society that’s crazy, I have no problem accepting that both of them believe it quite sincerely. They’re subversives, in the truest sense of the word, and as Kougami says later, if all Makishima wanted to do was perpetrate violence and cause chaos it’d be much easier to catch him.
few actual peace officers that remain to fight riots – thus leaving the Sibyl central computer undefended – is clever enough, though the opposition is so woefully unprepared that it almost doesn’t feel like a fair fight. Presumably the plan isn’t going to succeed – we have 7 episodes left after all – but I suspect Makishima will have achieved one of his secondary goals, as it’s hard to imagine that the public’s faith in Sibyl won’t be severely undermined by the orgy of violence that took place on the streets. As to that violence itself, while it might have seemed somewhat surprising to see the sheep turn on the wolves the way they did, I suspect Makishima would actually have been glad to see it. After all, it’s proof that there’s something of the animal still left in the human, even after years of Sibyl.