Wednesday, July 3, 2013

White collar criminals

A reporter for a national TV outlet is looking to interview assessed sociopaths who have committed white collar crimes. Please email me if you or someone you know fits the bill and would like to talk to him.

I can share some of my own thoughts on this topic later (I don't want to taint anyone's opinions before he has a chance to talk to you), but I've explored the association between criminality and sociopaths many times before.

It's true that there is a higher proportion of sociopaths in prison than there are in the general population. However, the same could be said of males -- there is a higher proportion of men in prison than there is in the general population. There is a higher proportion of African Americans in prison than there is in the general population. No one really (legitimately?) makes the argument that African American men are inherently criminal or that there is something innate about a man or an African American that predisposes them to criminality. But you could. Men have higher levels of testosterone than women, a hormone associated with higher levels of impulsivity and aggression. Much junk science has been historically written about the inferiority of the African races (although it is true that everyone but Africans have Neanderthal DNA, who "possessed the gene for language and had sophisticated music, art and tool craftsmanship skills," so there's at least a difference in genetics), but most people seem to feel that the higher proportion of African Americans in prison is due to environmental factors like social disenfranchisement than a genetic predisposition to crime. Similarly, there could be multiple factors connecting sociopaths with criminality, including that most sociopaths who have been studied happen to have been criminals.  

Somewhat relatedly:

Monday, July 1, 2013

The power of a label


But what if brown eyed people are really (scientifically proven and by their very definition) stupid wastes of space?

Also, these were the good old days, before it was considered unethical to confront people with uncomfortable truths about themselves.

Sunday, June 30, 2013

Interview with a seducee (part 3)

Then I just remember, what really sticks out is then at some point we were getting physical, I'm not sure, maybe it was on my bed or on my couch the first time, the second time it was on your bed. The second time was lot better. The first time you kept laughing it at me, well I interpreted it as laughing at me, which made me think I was bad, which is not something I normally think. That is not the way most people respond to me, otherwise that would have been enough to send me home crying for weeks. In retrospect it seemed like you were laughing at some situational awkwardness, I'm not sure entirely, but there was something that was worthy of a lot of laughter which also broke up an intensity, which made me realize how not gay you seem. With other people, kissing people seems to produce some sort of bodily physical chemistry reaction that makes it more intense over time, not more humorous over time, which led me to believe that we were in a sketch comedy, not a porno scene. The second time, I felt like things had massively improved, or that I was much more satisfied. There was a softer intimacy, this cute laying next to each other in bed holding your calloused hands as you ripped off pieces and chunks of dead skin that had started to peel away at the tips of your fingers.

Well before that there was some discussion about being punched or physical violence and strangulation. I don't know if it had segued from a conversation about different forms of bestiality or the control which partners have in sexual positions or just a conversation about physical violence. somehow we ended up on the topic of punching me, which you seemed to be all the more excited about doing, and I seemed to be all the more excited about having done to me. We were sitting in your car sitting behind another car waiting to exit to go back into your house. I think you slapped me first, and I think I was asking for it. I'm not sure. I mean, I know I asked for it. I'm not sure if you slapped me. And I'm pretty sure that whatever you did, it felt good, or good in a weird way, which made me think that it was quasi sexual in terms of relieving sexual tension, which was a relief to me that all of this build up could be relieved in this painful release, which made it seem appropriate. On the other hand, I didn't know you all that well, and we were in a dark car, and you're physically hurting me.

It was when you turned over and strangled me that I felt both that sensation of feeling out of control and feeling adored at the same time. I think I felt out of control because I knew that you were strong enough to really hurt me if you wanted to and I wondered if, how much, if I really tried I could stop you in that moment, but I also trusted that you wouldn't hurt me, and that made me feel adored. After which I felt physical pain, it had hurt my throat, whatever soft tissue we have around the delicate structure of our neck, and so I, obviously having never felt anything like that before, I felt very very small and I really wanted to be held and coddled in that moment, and that made me feel very distant from you because I felt like you wouldn't be able to give me that, emotionally or physically. Even if you would have been able to give me a hug, I felt like I needed to be held by someone who wanted to hold me and cared because I felt hurt. It was a physical hurt but there was definitely an emotional attachment to it, the same way that as a child you might want to look for your mom after getting hurt. That's when I realized that I was sitting in a dark car with a person who I had gone to a show with once, who I had dinner with twice, and who worked briefly in our office.

Saturday, June 29, 2013

Interview with a seductee (part 2)

(cont.)
We hung out at the ballet a few weeks later. We went to that restaurant that looked like it came out of a kitsch catalogue and then we went to the show and you were going to go to a bbq with family and/or get ice cream and I set off for home, but it was otherwise a good conversational day compared to the one before. You noted that I seemed calmer with you, but also noted my incredible inability to understand you. I kept saying, that's your type of thing, and you would say, no no no, you don't get me at all, but much calmer and easy going this time around without that added pressure of being at my house.

And then I didn't talk to you. And then I was sitting in an airport in Miami months later with my current fling leaning against my arm in our layover to San Pedro Belize, I opened up my email (thanks to you getting the office interns to show me how), and happened upon a very interesting read from you. The word that stuck out the most from that particular email was the four letter word love and its frequent use. The heartfelt passion with which that email was written seemed to be from a different human. It invoked thoughts for me of an infatuation of an ex lover, not someone who had been a short term co-worker who had come over to dinner once and awkwardly discussed my personality disorders for me and my inability to communicate. So reading through it, there was some shock to be had. Honestly I read it as being very truthful, as being... the picture behind the font of the email in my mind was this delicate soul that had hidden behind everything, a facade of intelligence and background and family and had realized that this was what true love was and had to express it and let it shine through. Not only was this interpretation gratifying as a major ego boost, but it was also shocking from my prior experiences with this person, it was alarming to my current paramour who is leaning on my shoulder catching glimpses of the word love, tidbits of affection and nuances of the email with a sideways glance. I think I briefly typed out a response without responding later. In Belize, a day later, we had our first fight in four months of dating because my companion had silently, passively aggressively brewed for 24 hours, insulted that I hadn't discussed already how it was that i was going to extinguish the small flame you had for me by saying I was already taken. Because I had been asked, "what are you going to do with this" and I had replied honestly and confusedly "I don't know," we had to discuss in detail why i didn't know what I was going to do. Thus began the portrayal of you as someone who was oddly infatuated with me, but my interest in you was an intellectual pursuit and search for a dialogue that was otherwise missing in my current relationship. I still don't really understand fully -- why you wrote what you did, but it was effective at getting my attention because it certainly was shocking and surprising and exciting to read because ... I don't think for me there are many times in my lifetime that i will open up an email and read some of the things that you wrote in it. Whether they were just meant to pull me back into an odd conversation about my personal defects and how you could fix them, it was still a successful endeavor because it worked, I still came running back ready to hear about what was wrong with me.
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