Much as Nietzsche warns that those who hunt monsters must take care not to themselves become monsters^^1^^, so Rodriguez warns that those who traverse labyrinths must take equal care that they do not "become" labyrinths as well^^2^^. While the caution itself fairly standard-- do not lose yourself-- her means of presentation is less so^^3^^. Why she chooses labyrinths is something of a mystery itself-- especially when she shies away from the metaphor of the golden thread, much unlike both Januan^^4^^ and Kirkwood^^5^^ in their respective works on similar subjects. Her work could benefit from the addition of the concept of a golden thread-- as it is, she exhorts us not to lose ourselves, and then provides no suggestion as to how to "stay found"^^6^^. The idea of a golden thread is //crucial// to any labyrinth metaphor, and its exclusion from //The Byzantine Brain// is a major flaw in an otherwise brilliant work. Rodriguez makes an extremely important distinction very early on in //The Byzantine Brain//-- to wit, the distinction between the "internal" and the "external" labyrinth^^7^^. She is one of the few authors to do so-- in modern works, only Januan presents this distinction^^8^^, and of extant earlier works on this topic, only the untitled manuscript attributed to Rumkin (erroneously, I believe^^9^^) sets out anything similar to an external/internal divide^^10^^. One important aspect of this distinction is one-way trips versus round trips (or "there and back agains"^^11^^, as Januan calls them^^12^^)-- while most external labyrinths^^13^^ require only a path outward, as they are more often struggles within which one has been placed, internal labyrinths require both a trip in and, even more importantly, a trip //out//^^14^^. While at places the metaphor here perhaps grows a little strained^^15^^-- though, with Januan especially, there is sometimes a lingering doubt as to whether labyrinth is meant as a //metaphor//^^16^^, or whether it's intended to be taken //literally//^^17^^-- but Rodriguez's point here is extremely valid. The key thing with return trips, and this is where //The Byzantine Brain// fails somewhat, is that there even moreso needs to be a guide-- the traveler must be able to duplicate their trip there if they ever want to make it back out again. While a guide can be had without being necessarily a //tether// the most effective way of retracing one's steps is the "golden thread", a concept here which stands in for what will bring a person out of their self-examination^^18^^-- Kirkwood suggests for this tether love, family, or even legacy^^19^^-- and which, naturally, will vary from person to person^^20^^. Januan's alternate suggestion here is, to put it mildly, interesting-- they posit as a tether and guide //the labyrinth itself//^^21^^. Januan means by this that the knowledge of being //in// a labyrinth can help a person stay grounded enough to make it //out// of the labyrinth^^22^^. This metatextual suggestion in practice requires a great deal of self-awareness-- a level of which most people are unlikely to reach. It also requires self-discipline and perseverance, an almost inhuman amount of it. The suggestion Rumkin (allegedly) makes requires this same superhuman strength of mind-- the primary suggestion he offers as tether is sheer and undisguised //willpower//^^23^^-- this, incidentally, is at odds with some of his other works, most especially //On the Mind and Soul//^^24^^. Considering for a moment the original labyrinth, that of King Minos, we are reminded that the purpose of labyrinths is not only that of self-reflection^^25^^ but also of protection-- labyrinths, from the very beginning, have always housed monsters. These dual purposes fit together much more neatly than one might initially imagine-- for what greater monster is there than the monsters inside each of us? In this way the metaphor of labyrinth stretches farther than perhaps thought possible^^26^^-- while the external labyrinth is mere metaphor (barring imprisonment on the Isle of Crete, that is), the internal labyrinth is, if such a catachresis may be permitted, a much more literal metaphor^^27^^, one with dual basis in fact and practice. To keep this idea tied to //minotauros//, that original monster was either an accident or a product of betrayal-- much as the monsters we hide in our own personal labyrinths often are. It was, however, wholly an abomination^^28^^. By most tellings, it deserved to be locked up and hidden away-- so too the darkest things about us. Rodriguez is able to drive this point home very well, when she says that by condemning parts of us to imprisonment, by disowning aspects of ourselves, we declare ourselves abominations, in whole or part^^29^^-- by hiding part of us we are, in a manner of speaking, hiding all of us^^30^^. Another key distinction is the one between labyrinth and maze, with which Kirkwood takes especial care. The distinction is this: a maze contains many paths and, ultimately, intends to deceive and trick^^31^^, while a labyrinth has only one correct path, and is a matter of perseverance and willpower than of cunning or strategy^^32^^. While the way is winding and long, ultimately within a labyrinth the way is more or less //clear//^^33^^ in spite of all its twists and turns and spirals^^34^^. We can look at the use of labyrinth from a different angle, then-- the self is not so much a puzzle as it is a challenge^^35^^, and self-examination is possible for anyone willing to put in the //effort//, regardless of talent or cleverness or any other factor beyond time and //work//^^36^^. This perspective calls to mind the "striving" and "overcoming" mentioned by Nietzsche when discussing the //Ubermensch//^^37^^-- one must always be overcoming, always striving, always tearing down and recreating^^38^^. A life without labyrinths, then, is a "less-than life"^^39^^. Labyrinths save us from stagnancy-- why then, is it so bad to become one? In considering the human form, especially that of the brain, are not we already approaching labyrinthine status? Imagine if you will the whorls of grey matter, the tangle of blood vessels, the snarls of neurons^^40^^-- to say nothing of the mysterious process of thought, of emotion, of feeling. Is not such an organ complicated and winding enough to be considered a labyrinth in itself? The mind contains labyrinths, but the mind //is// a labyrinth as well^^41^^. Thus argues Januan, and I argue this as well. But what, then, does that labyrinth hide? What secrets are imprisoned in the center of our brains? What is the **right-hand rule** for life?