Psychopaths

Is there such a thing as a ‘kill gene’? Some studies have shown that some psychopaths have some form of physical or chemical imbalance such as low serotonin, increased levels of toxic heavy metals for example manganese, lead, cadmium, copper etc in their systems, brain damage, head trauma, exposure of the fetal brain to alcohol or drug abuse or to other toxic substances, etc.

I think most people desperately try and find distinguishing factors between psychopaths and normal human beings, because most people find it hard to believe that psychopaths can also be normal human beings like you and I. There has to be a difference.

But what if there are no differences? What if we are exactly the same, and the only reason why most people don’t act out their psychopathic tendencies is because they have learned to control these tendencies through upbringing, religion, morals, etc?

It’s actually quite a scary thought. Because that would mean that we are all psychopaths. Or at least, in the depths of our beings, we are all capable of being psychopaths. We are only controlling our natural, instinctive tendencies.

This is tied to the perennial question – are we all born good and learn to become evil due to our surroundings, or are we all born evil and learn to become good due to our surroundings?

I find this a really fascinating topic.

Hilarious!

Today I would like to share a joke that was forwarded to me. It's hilarious!

At a United Nations Assembly, a representative from Israel began:

"Before beginning my talk I want to tell you something about Moses. When he struck the rock and it brought forth water, he thought, 'What a good opportunity to have a bath!   He removed his clothes, put them aside on the rock and entered the water. When he got out and wanted to dress, his clothes had vanished. A Palestinian had stolen them."

The Palestinian representative jumped up furiously and shouted, "What are you talking about? The Palestinians weren't there then!"

The Israeli representative smiled and said, "And now that we have made that clear, I will begin my speech."

Words

The pen is mightier than the sword. Some words once spoken have the ability to destroy relationships, friendships and even blood ties.

Poisonous words have the tendency to seep through one’s blood stream and dwell quietly in a deep, dark, desolate corner of one’s heart. No apology no matter how sincere, and no good deeds, no matter how genuine, can obliterate the venom that has taken root in one’s heart.

And even if one chooses to forgive, one does not, or cannot, forget the words that caused one to hurt in the first place.

Which is why it is of the utmost importance to choose one’s words carefully, no matter how angry one is or no matter how dire the situation is. Because if one chooses to be careless with the words one utters, one must be prepared to forever live with the consequences.

There is a line to be drawn when it comes to speaking one’s mind. When one’s words are capable of inflicting harm on others, one should refrain from speaking those particular words. There are always other words that will also get the message through, albeit more subtly, thus causing less harm.

Once the line is crossed, there is no turning back. The damage is done. The poison is forever etched within the abyss of one’s heart. Sleeping. Lingering. But eternally present.

Feminine charms

My first instinct when something goes wrong is to be defensive. To fight for my rights.

(Examples : (1) I’m sorry, there’s something wrong with the ATM machine – that’s not my problem, I want my money and I want it now! (2) You can’t park here – Why not? I don’t see a no parking sign! (3) We’re closed for today – if you’d told me that yesterday, I wouldn’t have wasted my time isn’t it!)

It works most of the time, but it leaves a bad taste in my mouth as well as the person at the receiving end. For me because I get all worked up and hot and bothered and then I need to cool down. For them because no one appreciates being scolded, especially if it’s not their fault.

Well, today I learned of another way of getting things done my way. I used my feminine charms! And the best part is, it worked! It happened quite by accident – I wasn’t feeling well today. So my guard was down and I was just too weak to argue or fight. So I guess I must have sounded like a damsel in distress. Problem solved!

I am one of those who strongly believe that people should not benefit, or be disadvantaged, by reason only of their gender. Hence, I refused to use my feminine charms to get things done or to get away with things. Sure, that meant that I had to fight for almost everything in my life, but it was worth it because in the end, people actually took me seriously. A person of substance, merit and worth.

Parallel to that, I never thought much of women who used their feminine charms to get things done, or to get away with things. Weaklings.

But just think – if I can get things done or get away with things without getting myself worked up and without getting the other person worked up, what’s the harm in that? Do I lose anything by being – well, by being a woman?

Absolutely not!

But I’m guessing it would take a while for the fighter in me to stand aside and let the woman in me emerge.

So long, farewell!

He is timeless. Ageless. Faceless. And I have loved him for the past 12

years.

Some people say he is just making use of me. Whilst giving me comfort, solace,

companionship and relief, he takes away my youth, vanity, vitality and

self-respect. But I disagree. These people have never met him.

They don't know him like I do.

I have defended him throughout the years with a ferocity that only the

beloved will understand. And in return, he has stood by me as only a true

friend can. Through the good times, the bad times, the heart aches, the

pain, the misery, etc. He never left me. He was always there.

And now I must say goodbye to him. All good things must come to an end.

Even as I lay him down gently for the last time, I knew I would miss him.

He was 12 years of my life. He dwelt in the very heart of my soul. He was

my conscience, my inner strength, my sanity.

"What will I do without him!" I thought as I stubbed out my last cigarette.

An ode to aliens

The parking attendants at the car park where I park my car are both from India. Within a week or two of their arrival in Malaysia, they have learned to speak Bahasa Malaysia well enough to converse with the patrons of the car park. One of them only recently obtained his driving license, and prior to that, he had never driven a car in his life. He now maneuvers the cars in the car park as if they were elastic, moving them from impossible angles without a scratch on any of the cars.  

The two of them share one room with two and sometimes three other foreigners. Needless to say, they earn a meager salary which is a windfall for them as a result of the foreign exchange rate. Rain or shine, they wait at their stall which consists of a table, 2 chairs and an umbrella. They work from 8.00 a.m. until the last person removes their car, they cannot leave in between in case someone wishes to remove their car which is blocked by another car.

They endure such challenging circumstances for the sake of earning a living, to make their lives a little bit more comfortable when they return to India.

And yet, under such strenuous circumstances, they still manage to smile and share light jokes with the patrons of the car park.

In the eyes of society, I may be seen to be more successful than them, but in terms of evolution, they are more successful than me, because they have mastered the art of survival.