the psyche of xian: a primer

this morning miyuki pointed out that sometimes I rub people the wrong way, and that I should be nicer. I tend to tease people, and I'm too sarcastic in nature.

the notion that I should just turn the volume down on my "mean" dial doesn't make much sense. there's a great anecdote from the crying game that is really fitting (swiped from the wikipedia page):

The scorpion, wishing to cross a stream, asked the frog to let him ride his back over the stream. When the frog asked the scorpion how he could be sure that the scorpion would not sting him, the scorpion replied that if he did sting him, it would mean death by drowning for both of them. The frog complies, carrying the scorpion on its back across the stream. Before they reach the other side, however, the frog feels pain and realizes that the scorpion has stung him. He protests, "Why did you sting me, Mr. Scorpion? For now we both will drown!" The scorpion replies, "I can't help it, it's in my nature."

I hated childhood, and my extension, most children. this is the logic I give when people ask me why I haven't bred yet. and the ONLY reason I hated childhood was other children.

my family upbringing was fine. sure, I fought with my sister, but that's normal. my dad instilled a bit too much competitive drive in me, but he thought that was for the best. probably would have been too, had I had any innate talent. my mom was nurturing and all that, and to be honest, the first five years of my life covered the bases about as well as anyone could ask.

then I went to school. I didn't have much social interaction with other kids before school. there was one boy down the street who, already at the age of four, was a bit of a hooligan, and has probably been in and out of jail since. the only other kids on my block were two home-schooled wiener-kids. they were, what is called in modern parlance, "special" in every way. I look back and realise how naive I was, and wonder how the hell those two ever survived. seriously, think of rod and todd flanders, but without the street smarts. these two kids were retarded for jesus and probably just retarded. odds are pretty good they're running some church somewhere and diddling little boys.


growing up, I got picked on a lot. I was a year younger than everyone else in my class, but still one of the biggest kids. a lot of my teachers didn't understand why I got teased so much, and several of them figured I just should have taken care of myself. morons didn't realise I was at a pretty good disadvantage there. I was smarter than most of the other kids, but definitely not tougher. I got beat up more or less constantly. my dad told me to fight back, but that was a mistake. the more I fought back, the more kids that jumped in to help the other guy. kids are such a chivalrous lot. did I mention I was usually getting beat up by kids much older than me, too? like 4-5 years older. I learned pretty quick that my only defense was to turtle, go down and start bawling. this reaction stuck with me through middle school, when I finally snapped. some pretty boy popular kid decided to augment his "rep" by picking a fight with me, thinking he'd have it easy. I snapped. threw the fucker around like a rag doll, slammed him several times into a brick wall. I don't think I ever landed a punch, 'cos I didn't (and still don't, to be honest) know how to hit people. as I was walking away, he went for round two and tried to tackle me from behind. he ended up eating dirt until a teacher broke it up. literally. I just sat on him and mashed his face into a flowerbed. it was the first, and only, time I ever won a fight. that kid instantly lost his "cool" status, and I gained bupkis.

I only had a few friends before high school. and often they weren't the most loyal bunch. I can really relate to arnold rimmer in a lot of ways. his one "friend" once tried to eat him, and later threw his favourite sneakers (with a compass in the heel) into a septic tank. rimmer was wearing them at the time. while my childhood betrayals weren't nearly as dramatic, they were frequent. they left me jaded and unwilling to trust most people, even those who present themselves as allies. high school was a little better, I fell into a group with other rejects and misfits. I haven't seen most of them in years. with most of them, all we really had in common was the proximity and being forced to be in school at the same time. take away those restrictions, and the friendships pretty much fell apart.

I've always acknowledged the likelihood of me ending up in a unabomber shack, bare bulb swinging over my head in the breeze, as I write out poorly written diatribes against humanity. I often tell people that I'm waiting for the comet to crash into earth, and I certainly hope bruce willis (or whoever else they send to stop it) fails miserably and we all die. it just seems fitting. people can be so shitty to one another for no good reason, and it really bothers me.

I think I may have just gotten kicked out of my fantasy hockey league. every year I do fantasy baseball and hockey with the same core group of people, and a few new people. and every year, I end up in a pissing match with one or more of the newbies. I'm usually right, but I go too far. I can't resist mashing their faces in a flowerbed, and it gets old for everyone else. it's entirely possible i won't be invited back after this latest outburst.

like miyuki said, I need to be nicer to people. less caustic, less abrasive. I need to tone down the sarcasm and quit trying to tease other people before they can tease me. I just don't think it's going to happen. the behaviour has been reinforced over the past twenty plus years, it's not going anywhere. it's my one defense mechanism against a horrible world. I really can't help it that I'm happiest when I see other people suffer. schadenfreude is a real thing, and when bad things happen to deserving people, I find it amusing. maybe because it makes up for just a tiny bit of the bad things that happened to me when I was too young, naive and innocent to know any better.

instead, I'm half prepared for the time when everyone ultimately gets sick of my attitude and walks away, leaving me alone in my shack. because sooner or later, everyone does indeed walk away.