You don't have to be mentally ill to be these things. Considering the type of people that rule our world
(
) it seems that the most well adjusted people in our society are not only more than capable of being this, it seems like a requirement.
So I am no longer comfortable using the word psychopath (or any other "dark triad" nonsense) to describe these types of people. These people aren't struggling to function with a mental illness, they're of the exact mindset that thrives in our backwards society.
However I'm struggling to think of a suitable replacement word that carries with it the same "This is serial killer coded shit" vibe that calling someone a psychopath carries (and associating such a thing with psychopaths is ableist so I don't want to use the word in that way anymore)
Calling them ghouls, fascists or nazis doesn't carry the same weight. What kind of word bests describes the casual, dangerous heartlessness of people without throwing the mentally ill under the bus?
borderline sephiroth posting here but fuck it, the bounds of liberal civility really do let these freaks off scot free for demonic shit and they aren't scared enough
I decided to write a poem about this just now. Might be a bit rough around the edges.
The Demonic Impulse
With so-called holy furor They abolish your freedoms And relish in human suffering Your agonies are their lullabies
The impulse exists within most of us The desire to see enemies laid low Put in their place For daring to resist 'the obvious truth'
It matters not which god you do it for It matters not which master you serve Or if you do it for no one at all
It is the path of demons The path of cruelty The path of treachery
When it becomes your agenda To mete out the absolute To define truth as your words alone And disagreement as treason
When it becomes your right To punish the punished To torture the tortured To ridicule that which you do not understand
To slide down the scale And let contempt consume you That they deserve your hatred For not being you
It's to plunge your humanity into the tarpit To wrest it by the neck and hold its face beneath the threshold To revel in the bubbles which rise to the surface And to spit on its weakness when the last one pops
You pull it back up, lungs full of rot Flesh seared and melded with the impulse This is what you breathe now This is what you feel now This is what you are now
Unfit for power Unfit for polite society You murdered the human within And joined the ranks of the Demons
And so now we ask each other Huddled amidst ourselves What is to be done about the devils Who seek a thousand thrones sewn from our faces
What is to be done When you try to act Like what you've done Is normal
What is to be done When you continue trying to pretend you're human When the stench of your dead, rotted soul Wafts in with every word you belch
The vile contempt you hold For all that is living and good The very concept of goodness in your mind Has been unrecognizably disfigured
Fuck you.
We've given you a billion chances To keep your disgusting mouth closed Before we came to the foregone conclusion That you'll get what's coming to you
One way or another