, we can't say things are much better, since the analysts retreat to the rock of castration presented as the locus of an untenable truth that is irreducible: they closet themselves in a phallocentrism that leads them to think of the analytic activity as always having to evolve within a familial microcosm, and they continue to treat the libido's direct investments of the social field as simple imaginary dependencies on Oedipus, where it becomes necessary to denounce a fusional dream, a fantasy of a return to Oneness.