But the news organisations seem to care less about the facts than they do about the figures. Because it only took four days before there were more worldwide People of Choice deaths than there were men who had stared into the business end of Annabelle Chong on 19th January, 1995.

The amount of bloody baths and handwritten letters had doubled in the next three days.

The news channels are just waiting for Meeteru Tokuhara to leave the one thousandth note.

And they would have missed the point of The People of Choice entirely.

Just as they failed to realise that Ms Chong’s motivation for taking a couple of hundred dicks in one sitting was her desire to challenge gender roles.

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The police are looking for a ghost.

There is no splinter protruding from the side of any organised religion. They can’t find a town hall that is being used for meetings of The People of Choice. But a church doesn’t have to be a building. A church is a group of people who believe in the same thing. Like a cult.

Yet, there is no community. The members of this suicide cult are not going around with one another, talking about their plans to die. They meet for the first time moments before their lives end. It’s impossible to find a person who is ready to take the leap and stop them before they step over the edge. This is what the police require. Somebody to shed some light. To defect.

Every cult has members who become disillusioned with its practices. They have people who end up leaving. Sometimes, parents escape and leave their children behind. Sometimes the other way round. The genius of The People of Choice is that no member can ever leave because nobody knows they are a member until it is too late.

And where is the compound? Why have they not segregated themselves like a good little cult? Why are they not behaving how they should? Where the fuck are they?

It is a waste of time for the police to look for the leader, because he doesn’t exist. There is no point searching for current members, because neither do they. The focus must be on the victims.

Nine from Chelsea Bridge.

Two from the Millennium Bridge.

How are they linked? How did their paths cross? What would make them do this?

Before Dinah Faige became 231 – Ungrateful, she was sweet and caring and studious. And she had a mother. And that mother had a cancer.

And that cancer had a doctor.

And that doctor jumped off Chelsea Bridge two weeks ago.

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