FINDING THE DIAMETER

As is often the case with my Internet searches, I find something that is the complete opposite of whatever it was that sparked my initial search.

I call this "finding the diameter."

As you all might or might not know, I've been on this Narcissism kick. From the fiction of Thomas Pynchon to online self-help jargon, I've been kicking this notion around ever since my misadventures concerning a certain online personality with whom I was engaged in mortal cyber-combat.

I found a site put up by a person who had bad experiences with the website that first brought Narcissistic Personality Disorder to my attention. In particular, he/she attacks Dr. Sam Vaknin, as well as other NPD authorities.

Here's the link...

Anyway, what is compelling is that this one article starts off with the author recounting his/her own encounter with an "online psychopath". Then, it devolves into a bitter retelling of disechantment with self-proclaimed narcissism experts.

And I felt like I found the serpent that ate its own tail.

For you see, this person's arguments against people like Vaknin are as follows: since Vaknin and others of his ilk are admitted narcissists themselves, after a while they reveal their own narcissistic tendencies through abuse, specifically by abusing the person who wrote these critical essays against people such as Vaknin.

The ironic thing is: the author of these critical essays exhibits narcissistic tendencies as well. No wonder they found conflict in relation to Vaknin and others.

This begs the question: Whose word do you trust? Someone like Vaknin, who has a doctorate but doesn't conduct himself as a professional? Or the abused author, who has a gripe against everyone elses' methods of thinking or treating NPD?

It was mind-boggling to read the amount of self-reflexive argumentation. Even in my own self-referential whirlwinds, I have only scratched the surface of my own identity.

You see, I have no problem being a narcissist, because if I don't look out for myself then who will? The thing that bugs me is my seeming indifference and apathy to other people's plights... but this may also be my saving grace, since everyone around me is, to some degree, a narcissist as well.

This is not a case of misery craving company. It is a case of my seeking out like-minded egotists and finding that, with very few exceptions, I seem to outmatch everyone else in terms of sheer ego.

My online stalker was an example of someone whose demand for N-supply matched my own. It wasn't until I found out who I was dealing with that my own sense of ego was satiated. Knowing that my enemy was a person who (1) had a better occupation than me yet still managed to waste his time online battling total strangers, and (2) looked like the bastard son of Ron Howard and the guy from "Napoleon Dynamite", my ego was stroked immensely.

I feel like I won. I'm sure that my stalker feels like he won the battle as well. However, he did stop taunting me, because he probably felt that same sickening feeling deep in the well of his gut that I did.

I am finding, in my daily relations with other narcissists, that my own narcissism is monstrous and distorted. For example: If I meet a woman whom I feel has some sort of manipulative hold on me merely because she is beautiful, I find other ways to make her feel small: belittling her intelligence, questioning her virtue/morality, or maybe even ignoring her completely-- cutting off her N-supply.

What's telling is that afterwards I reflect upon my actions and appraise myself accordingly. I hold a mirror up to myself to assess my "performance". Did I let her get my goat? Did I say or do anything that got her goat? Have I placed the ball in her court or is the next move mine to make?

Who is the winner, in this sitaution? Am I the winner? Not when I have lost out on an opportunity to be friends with a beautiful woman, as opposed to torturing her.

Likewise, I console myself by telling myself that she lost out on me, because she underestimated me, or doesn't see me as a real person. In the case of another narcissist, I guess I would be correct.

So once again, the question is: Whose word do you trust?


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As a child, I often took jokes and ideas to their wildest extremes. In casual conversation with my peers, I developed a reputation for piling outrageous add-ons to any humorous topic. I always managed to make it sicker, funnier, grosser, more bizarre than anyone else. It was my attempt to outdo the others, and it led to some very funny in-jokes between myself and my friends. It was friendly competition, the only rule being that it had to somehow transcend whatever we were talking about.

I still do that. I still know how to take the topic and stretch it beyond belief. I reach for the absurd because it is the only logical direction to take anything.

Over time, the competition part of it still remains. The only difference is that I am less aggressive in my competitiveness. In fact, I am passive-aggressive about it. I am sometimes quite oblivious to the fact that I am raising the stakes or upping the ante. I see it as good, clean fun.

However, the minute someone gets aggressive on me, I get upset. But I don't pout-- instead, I rise to the imaginary occasion and try to outdo my "opponent". But I cheat-- I use whatever tricks are at my disposal.

For example: if I am being upstaged by a bully, I use my wits; if I am being made to look ridiculous, I turn the joke on myself by using self-deprecation; if someone is merely trying to irritate me, I hint at violence; if someone seems to be more knowledgeable than me, I make them look foolish for being such a "nerd"... even though I would gladly accept the tag "nerd" from someone looking to make me feel bad about being smart...

In my mind's reality, life is an endless competition. I guess that's why, when bad things happen to me (such as getting my car towed) I tend to want to pack up my toys and leave the proverbial sandbox. How can I one-up the towing company? A better question to ask would be: Why would I want to one-up the towing company? It was my fault to begin with, parking in that spot with the sign that stated "NO PARKING" quite clearly.

Why can't I just let it go? Why must I push to the next extreme?

I seriously entertained going back to the towing company offices and throwing a brick through the window. It was just a thought, but what kept me from acting upon it? Was it fear of getting caught? Fear of reprisal? Fear of bad karma returning to me in the future?

Or was it an acknowledgment that it wasn't worth all the trouble to do something that violent, that extreme, in response to the actions of a man who makes his living towing cars away from illegal parking spots?

I was disgusted by the tow-truck man. He looked like a redneck hillbilly straight out of Deliverance. He took his sweet time processing my driver's license and registration. He seemed to not have a care in the world. He idly chatted with his assistant, a pretty Latina girl who did all the paperwork.

I looked around his office and noticed he had posters of The Godfather and Scarface on his walls. I like those movies too. A part of me made the connection, thinking something along the lines of, "Anyone who likes Al Pacino as Tony Montana can't be that bad..."

In other words, I finally learned to humanize him... by making him into a mirror image of myself. My empathy, my sympathy-- perhaps all instances of placing oneself in another's shoes, throughout all of history --revolves around our individual capacity to imagine how we would behave through another person's experiences...

The Golden Rule states that we should do unto others as we would have them do unto ourselves.

This tripped me out. And I kept thinking about it, even as I felt so down about my status as a loser who couldn't even pay to get his own car out of the impound.

My feeling down stemmed from not being able to stand proud on my own two feet. Having to grovel, having to ask someone else for help... that's what really hurt the most. That's what made me want to stop playing music this morning.

I am afraid that, now that I have want I wanted-- my car out of the impound --will I go back to my impudent car-parling habits? Will I learn anything from this hard lesson? Or will I simply gloss it over and continue to make the same mistakes over and over?

I vowed to stop playing music-- did I mean it? Yes and no. Only time will tell if I really took it all to heart or not.

So I find myself engaging in the ultimate narcissistic activity: questioning my own motives.

Whose words do I trust-- the words of the Angry Me, or the words of the Reflective Me?

I don't have an easy answer for that one. This is one moment where I cannot one-up myself, lest I paint myself into a philosophical corner.

I'll just have to wait and see...