50-48 #53: PSYCHOPATHY

50-48 #53: PSYCHOPATHY

Did you know that psychopathy isn’t listed in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders? Instead, it’s included as part of the broader diagnosis of “antisocial personality disorder.”

And speaking on behalf of antisocial personality disorder sufferers everywhere, we here at 50-48 would just like to say: WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?!?!

The idea, of course, is that more common disorders such as schizophrenia or bipolar disorder have recognizable, diagnosable symptoms. Psychopaths are psychopaths precisely because they experience no symptoms. They don’t give a shit about anything. Trying to gauge not giving a shit is kind of like trying to measure air with a ruler. Until, that is, said psychopath goes and kills someone, then says something like, “Huh. Olive Garden would totally hit the spot right now.”

Still, psychopaths make up about 25% of the American prison population and a full 1% of the broader male population of the United States. “Beauty and ugliness, except in a very superficial sense,” wrote Hervey Cleckley in 1941, a world still choking on the breathing apparatus and neuro-synapse fire of Adolf Hitler, “goodness, evil, love, horror, and humor have no actual meaning, no power to move him.”

Of course, one of the consequent questions asked of psychopaths is the great moral puzzle: would you cause one person’s death in order to save the lives of others. Some would say yes, because the good of the few outweighs the good of the one. Others would say no, there is never a legitimate moral justification for causing the death of anyone. Psychopaths wouldn’t say yes or no. They would talk about Olive Garden. Or they simply wouldn’t understand the question. Or, influenced by the vast overproduction of slapstick comedy, burgeoning as it has since the days of vaudeville, they would argue that the death of the few caused by the death of the one would be far more entertaining.

We bring it up because we here at 50-48 couldn’t muster the gumption to let the Hogs’ disastrous loss to South Carolina ruin our Saturday. Don’t get us wrong. Our Saturday sucked, just like every other day sucks in this dirty hellhole of a place. But it wasn’t because of the Hogs. Casey Dick sucked, then got hurt, then saw his brother replace him. The running game mustered all of 54 yards. Michael Phelps and Jim Leyland were on the South Carolina sidelines, rooting against us. And they’re both awesome.

Normally, such events would drive us into an alcoholic frenzy. But this week they didn’t. We here at 50-48 have come up with several possible scenarios as to why this is: 1) Life is so bad and our general wish for the sweet release of death so palpable, that sport losses don’t even phase us anymore. 2) The crappy state of Razorvision and the lack of television coverage made the loss seem so distant that its power couldn’t overtake us. 3) We are psychopaths.

The first scenario can obviously not be the case. True, life is bad. True, we here at 50-48 do wish for the sweet release of death. But sport losses always phase us. The second scenario is possible, but Razorvision has sucked since its inception and there are plenty of games that take place far, far away from this horrid cesspool of a place in which 50-48 resides.

That leaves only one possible explanation. We are psychopaths. 50-48 will send a special emergency message as soon as we murder a busload of people, along with the one guy that would have been able to save them.

If there’s any justice in the world, scientists will study our brains after the unfortunate event, create a fancy name for the brain problems so obviously existent inside the hard shell of our skulls, and put it in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders.

Still, if we survive the next two weeks, and State manages to defeat us on the 22nd, we will be left with this response: WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?!?!

Then we'll go to Olive Garden. Olive Garden would totally hit the spot right now.

50-48
Fuck Texas
WPS