[He probably wouldn't get most of it even if she did. Evil is very mundane in Dixon's closed-off world. He has no personal experience with war or genocide or exile. Even if he understands the words and concepts they remain sketches, something uninformed and uncolored by personal experience or weight.

And damn, he thinks, all he did was throw an innocent person out a window because he was having a bad day.

He kind of sprawls sideways and rests his head on his hand.]

My mama'd watch a TV show about that and call it unrealistic. [He shakes his head. He thinks of Revan's life as some kind of opaque mystery, shrouded and impenetrable by the sheer breadth of difference from his considerably more mundane and sheltered existence.] Things aren't really life and death where I'm from. Well, I mean, they are, but not like that. We shot all our genocidal dictators.

[He really doesn't watch international news.]