rejectomorph | Confession

The other evening, I was treated to the sight of thuggish neighbor attempting to start his motorbike by having it towed by a rope tied between the bike's fork and the rear bumper of a pickup truck driven by one of his equally thoughtless friends. Thuggish was, as is his custom this time of year, shirtless and wearing baggy shorts, and was also in violation of California's strict helmet law. As he wobbled and lurched up and down the street in a series of vain attempts to get the bike's engine started, I watched through my window, expecting at any moment to see the almost inevitable disaster. But disaster failed to happen. No blood was spilled, no skin abraded, no bones broken, no unconsciousness achieved. Dusk fell, and the drama ended with thuggish unconcussed. I'm certainly not proud of the fact that I was a bit disappointed, but honesty compels me to admit that I would most likely have felt some guilty pleasure had he been injured. Certain people arouse in me some highly uncharitable feelings, and thuggish is certainly one of those people.

In truth, I don't enjoy my own malice, but I do feel pleasure when misfortune befalls those toward whom I feel some antipathy. I never go out of my way to take revenge, but I do borrow vengeance from random events. I would never take a dump on my enemy's lawn, or attempt to cause anyone else to do so, but if a stray dog happens to leave a steaming pile there, I am churlishly pleased. Should the object of my dislike then step in it, my most likely response would be unworthy laughter, quickly stifled, and the thought of the event would bring me shameful delight long after. Oh, schadenfreude! More tempting than the tasty whipped cream that turns the arteries to stone!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You're driving... and you see something in the road up ahead, black and laying on the ground. You think it's a mutilated animal, you steel yourself as you get ready to see how bad it is... and it turns out to be a piece of tire or an old towel or muffler or something?

And then, do you feel kind of disappointed at this?

Not exactly. I'm usually relived that it isn't an animal. But there used to be these nasty, aggressive dogs in my old neighborhood, and one time when one of them was hit by a passing car, I was disappointed when I found that the dog would survive. I seem to need pre-existing negative feelings about a creature before I can feel any pleasure in seeing them harmed.

Same goes for inanimate objects. When the Embarcadero Freeway was destroyed in that earthquake, I was delighted, but if the Ferry Building had been destroyed I'd have been sad, even though (had the event been caught on videotape) I'd probably have watched it over and over again, simply to see the awe-inspiring destructiveness. There is something fascinating about things going terribly wrong. I think that's a big part of the reason why people watch The History Channel.

I read in a book on A.D.D. that negative thoughts (and presumably images) are more mentally stimulating than positive ones... which would explain how some people get in a whirlpool of depressive cycles... and why bad news headlines sell more papers... and why people always stop at accidents.

It sounds plausible. The most popular movies, both action and comedy, are full of negative events, until the final resolution.

Hi -- sorry to barge in -- but I'm curious to know the name of the book which you speak of.
Thanks.

It's called Healing ADD : the breakthrough program that allows you to see and heal the 6 types of attention deficit disorder by Daniel G. Amen.

Thanks! :)

You're welcome :-)

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