Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Famous sociopaths: Julie D'Aubigny

Via this Badass of the Week, I present the historical figure Julie D'Aubigny.  Some selections, but the entire article is pretty entertaining:


Julie D'Aubigny was a 17th-century bisexual French opera singer and fencing master who killed or wounded at least ten men in life-or-death duels, performed nightly shows on the biggest and most highly-respected opera stage in the world, and once took the Holy Orders just so that she could sneak into a convent and bang a nun. If nothing in that sentence at least marginally interests you, I have no idea why you're visiting this website.


One of the most badass human beings ever produced by France was born in 1670 into a life of wealth, privilege, and one-percenter opulence that meant she could have just spent her entire life chilling out Real Housewives style without ever so much as having to shank a single human being in the eye in a hellacious fit of rage, but, as we shall soon see, that sort of malaise really wasn't this chick's bag. 
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Julie D'Aubigny moved to Marseille and started hooking up with a badass fencing master who just so happened to be on the run for murder after he stabbed some dude to death in an alley outside Paris. The homicidal fugitive swordsman trained D'Aubigny in the finer arts of fencing for a while, but as soon as she realized the student was now the master she ditched his broke ass and started giving sword exhibitions across Marseille to hone her skills and make a little extra dough. Basically it worked like this – she'd pull out her sword, sing a song or two, and challenge anyone in the audience to battle her in a duel. If someone stepped up, she'd sing a humiliating song about them, then make them look like assholes who couldn't tell the difference between a sword and a limp piece of linguine. Her skills were so lights-out gonzo that one time some jerkwad in the crowd called out that she wasn't really a woman, but was some badass cross-dressing cavalier musketeer motherfucker who was ripping everyone off. She responded by ripping open her blouse and telling the audience to "judge for themselves".


Oddly enough, kicking peoples' asses for money eventually led to a completely unrelated job prospect – a career as the star attraction of the Paris Opera. Apparently, while this chick was singing songs to humiliate her enemies in the dueling circle, some powerful record execs were in the audience, and they were so impressed by her melodious contralto voice that they decided she should be doing better shit than stabbing people in the balls for spare change. In the span of a few months, the woman known in Marseilles only as "La Maupin" (meaning "The Mapuin") went from a completely untrained street performer to the lead actress in the world's most respected Opera, playing roles of badass Classical chicks like Pallas Athena, Medea, and Dido. In addition to her flair for the dramatic and innate musical talent, it also helped that La Maupin had a near-photographic memory and rarely needed to read her lines more than once before committing them to memory.


Of course, her fiery temperament in love and combat meant that she slept with or swordfought with most of the men and women in the opera at various points during her career. Like, one time some jackass doucheface pretty-boy actor was being overly-aggressive while talking to one of Julie's actress friends, so La Maupin told that asshole to take a chill pill and show the lady some respect. He told her to fuck off and mind her own bitch business. Later that night, as he was walking home, he found La Maupin standing in the street, weapon drawn, challenging him to a duel for honor. When the guy refused to pull his sword, she fucking beat his ass with a wooden cane, stole his pocketwatch, and left his dumb ass in an alley. The next day, the dude came to work with a couple black eyes, and when people were like, "WTF is up with your face," he told them he got jumped by three big black dudes armed with hammers and baseball bats. As soon as he said this, La Maupin pulled out the dude's pocketwatch and called him out a lying liar from Douchebagville. Then, to make matters more humiliating, she then forced the dude to kneel and beg forgiveness in front of all his co-workers before he could get his shit back.

La Maupin was also kind of a hardcore bisexual, and some of her tales of badass awesomeness dueling over female lovers and seducing chambermaids read like they were perpetrated by musketeers or pirates or some other ultra-daring swashbuckling male heroes of eighteenth-century literature. Of course, being a woman, Julie D'Aubigny could pull off some feats of romantic badassitude that most men could only dream of. The most notable example of this was the time that she became a nun just so she could hook up with one of the sisters in the convent. The story goes like this: One time the Mademoiselle D'Aubigny got some super-hot lusty blonde to fall in love with her. When the blonde's parents found out their daughter was a lesbo, they had their "ravished" daughter put into a convent, totally unaware that this wasn't going to be nearly enough to deter La Maupin – D'Aubigny took the holy orders, entered the convent as an initiate, created a diversion by setting the fucking convent on fire, and then kidnapped the blonde nun, snuck her out of there, and shacked up with her for like a month. Are you kidding me with this?



I don't know, maybe she had borderline personality disorder?  If the contemporary portraits are any indication of what she looked like, her many conquests might have something more to do with her skill at seduction and confidence than her beauty.

Tuesday, July 10, 2012

Self-awareness

People say they want to hear more about me, but very little of my life is interesting, and not everything I do is straight out of the pages of a sociopath handbook. So it's hard to know sometimes what to write about myself. I have some people who say that I am not even a sociopath at all. This may be true. Certainly not everything I do is sociopathic. And I find it interesting that so many of my readers who are wondering if they are sociopaths will bring up little examples of normalcy, like crying at a sad movie, as proof that they are normal. I have moments like these too. Back when I was self-deceived, I would fixate on these moments and ignore any seemingly contradictory moments, e.g. moments of unfeeling rage. I would say to myself, how could I be a sociopath? I love my family. I am a helpful friend. My heart has been broken (how could my heart break if there was no heart to break?). Consequently, I am not a sociopath.

When I started embracing my true identity a little more, I wanted to be as honest with myself as possible. I knew that through unflinching honesty about reality and hard work, I could inch myself to happiness or whatever else it was I wanted in life, like a prisoner carving his way out of a concrete wall with a makeshift pick. Honesty is the key here, because without knowing what the world truly looks like, without knowing who I really am, anything I do, any project I undertake would be nothing more than a gamble -- a guess. I didn't want to be playing roulette with my life and my happiness -- I at least wanted to be playing poker. One result of this dedication to honesty was that I tended to more readily accept the explanation that painted me as an inhuman sociopath, a cold-calculating monster. I just wanted to make sure I wasn't trying to fool myself in thinking I am better than I am, more in control than I am. But that presumption can be just as damaging. Let's say I am very disappointed by a change in plans, a shift in a relationship, someone's rejection of me. Instead of acknowledging and really feeling my disappointment, my brain tries to come up with a nefarious reason that I might feel this way -- maybe it is because they have disrupted one of my schemes, maybe it is because now my future predictions will be wrong or there is wasted effort, maybe I'm just selfish. It is very difficult for me to acknowledge that i am just disappointed, that I have had an emotional reaction to something that has happened in my life. Acknowledging emotions can be scary for me (I don't really understand them and i think they cloud my judgment), but worse is to not acknowledge them and just assume I am being rational all the time.

So self-awareness is hard. There's not really an option of erring on the side of safety when making assumptions about who we are and what our motives are. We just have to be constantly vigilant about what information, from both external and internal sources, we accept as truth and choose to rely upon in our decision-making. Because if knowledge is power, then what is misinformation?

Monday, July 9, 2012

Guilt

I'm still learning a lot about myself. For instance, I was prompted recently to think about "guilt." A reader writes:
Sometimes I feel what I think may be guilt, but there's always a metaphorical voice in the back of my head telling me, "No, you only feel that way because your image was tarnished." That "voice" is incredibly difficult to pay attention to, by the way. I feel a horrible feeling whenever I do something that hurts someone and it can be linked back to me. If there is no link to me, I don't feel anything. It's very hard for me to differentiate between this and guilt, and I've frequently used it to justify my own humanity. But why don't I feel such things if nobody knows who caused it? It can't be guilt. I only care when there are consequences for me.
I reply:
That is interesting how you feel bad only when you are caught, essentially. I mean, it's a trite phrase -- "he's only sorry he got caught" -- but it is so true for me. I can actually feel really really badly about things that I got caught for, for whatever reason. But the phrase doesn't fit exactly. It's not like I feel disappointed that I couldn't get away with it. I just feel ... out of sorts. I feel like the world is an ugly place where I don't belong. That is what makes me feel bad. Definitely not, "oh, poor person I hurt." It's more like, "poor me for having to live in this ugly world and deal with this." This happened to me very recently when I stole/borrowed something from my neighbor, hoping she would never find out before I returned it. She did find out, though, and confronted me about it. Or she at least asked me about it and I didn't know what she knew so I just came clean, but spun a story of emergency, etc., figuring that would be better for me than to be caught in a lie. But she wouldn't have it. She threatened to call the authorities. Now that seemed like an overreaction by anyone's standards, but for some reason it deeply disturbed me. I think I realized how vulnerable I am, how hated I am just by virtue of what I am. I didn't really think about it at the time, but what you wrote really made sense to me. I wouldn't have felt the least tinge of guilt if I had never been caught, but being caught made me feel all sorts of guilt, or what felt like guilt at least. Maybe it was just regret.

Sunday, July 8, 2012

How to read people like a sociopath

A reader writes:
I'm sure you've heard your empath male friends talk about "psycho chicks" or "crazy chicks", and your female friends have probably complained about the opposite.

Do sociopaths have a knack for spotting imbalanced people, and know to avoid them, or if you're so inclined, are they just a fun game to kill time with?

Also, I've heard that sociopathic people are natural-born people readers. If this is true in your case, have you ever thought about writing a book on the subject? "How To Read People Like A Sociopath" would probably be a runaway hit, and if paying the bills is a part of the game.... lol

Thanks,
My response:
Interesting question. I've been giving it some thought. I have been told I am unusually insightful, and I feel like I do have a knack for spotting imbalanced people, but I wonder whether I'm any better at it than any normal person. I may be spotting some imbalanced people that you aren't and vice versa. For example, I have a hard time dealing with homeless people. I always start out treating them like any other person and then I am always sort of surprised when they start yelling obscenities at me or making inappropriate hand gestures. Even though I realize in my mind that homeless frequently = crazy, for some reason every time I see a homeless person, I always treat him like I would anyone else. It's almost as if I don't recognize these people as being in the category "homeless," and consequently a little mentally unbalanced. Instead my brain just thinks "stranger."

But there are a lot of seemingly normal bad guys that I can clearly see are egomaniacs or control freaks or extra-manipulative, or whatever else is their M.O. Sometimes I think it frustrates my friends -- I can be summarily disapproving of their other friends or the people they date. It's like I am a dog that just happens to hate a seemingly innocent guy, always barking and growling when he is around. Even I sometimes don't understand what it is about a person that is triggering my spidey sense, but almost always there is a lack of genuineness about the person -- inconsistencies in a person's actions vs. their alleged motivations.

I'll try to think more about how it is exactly that I spot these people. My first thought is that I am just so used to wearing masks myself that it is easy to see myself in other mask wearers. I wonder if that is a skill that can be taught. But if there is enough money in it, I certainly can try to fake it. 

Saturday, July 7, 2012

Quotes: Emotional irrationality

“I can calculate the motion of heavenly bodies but not the madness of people.”

Isaac Newton
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