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Would you like me to fix you, my son?

Lend me you imagination:

I want to introduce you to my princely friend, The Wizard. If The Wizard waves his magic wand, you will lose all ability to feel shame, guilt and anxiety for the rest of your life.

No fear of rejection. No sense of loyalty. No burdensome social obligation. No inner judge. No moral concerns whatsoever.

When the Wizard waves his black magic wand you will be what the medical community calls a psychopath. Now and forevermore.

Picture it.

You snatch your girlfriend’s American Express Card. Over the course of a sportive weekend you burn through $3,000 of hijacked credit and successfully pin the whole charade on your lover’s roommate. You feel zero negative emotions about this crime. No self-hatred. No second guessing the betrayal of a woman who trusts you. No pulse increase as you consider the probability of being discovered. No capacity to relate to the sadness of your victims.

Nothing. 

Tears flow like rivers of heartache and you fell nothing. 

Nothing save the satisfaction of another victory. Nothing but the comfort of knowing you are capable of pursuing your goals with a ruthlessness your rivals dare not fathom.

And for what you’ve lost in conscience you’ve gained in acting chops. Friends, family and coworkers are clueless to your new “magic powers”. Everyone believes you to be your old empathetic self. The sweet boy fighting back tears when Old Yeller got capped. The honest citizen turning up at the police station with a wallet he found on the sidewalk. Thanks to The Wicked Wizard of Wrong is Right you are now a black mamba in a brown bunny suit.

Deadly.

Stealth.

Cold as ice.

Here comes The Wizard. Would you like to meet him?

It’s now or never.

So, do you?

This post was inspired by Chateau Heartiste and Martha Stout.

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