Recently, I picked up a copy of the apparently quite popular book The Sociopath Next Door, by clinical psychologist Martha Stout. Dr. Stout lays out the facts: four out of every 100 people are sociopaths, people who have not a shred of conscience. Sociopaths, says Dr. Stout, are unburdened by feelings of guilt or moral shading, and largely spend their lives, to varying degrees, fucking with people for the sheer glee of it.

This alarmed me. Of course the first thing I did was check next door, per Dr. Stout's titular warning. I knocked on Donald's door, the kindly middle-aged gay man whose apartment is next to ours. Before he could get a word out, I cried, "Donald! Would you slip a barracuda into my shorts just to fuck with me?" He stared at me a moment before responding. "Have you been drinking at work again?"

Dr. Stout didn't let me down here, either. Sociopaths frequently use skilled manipulation to deflect their victims from suspicion. Clearly, this was what was going on here. "I'm on to you!" I screamed. I quickly adopted what I assume was a menacing judo stance and let out a chilling "HIIIIIII-YA!" despite the fact that I was really just sort of crouching there in the hallway. Donald frowned at me and said, "I've told you to get help, Skot," and then slammed the door.

As I trudged back to my apartment, I was overcome with a lot of feelings. One, I was a little ashamed at alarming Donald, who clearly was not a sociopath. He's just some old queen who has the misfortune to live next to me. Then I got angry, pissed off at myself. Pissed off why? Because I felt bad. Feeling bad sucks, I realized. And then I hit on a plan. I even had a handbook.

Why not be a sociopath? Dr. Stout is giving me the straight dope on how to make it happen. Frankly, I'm sick and fucking tired of feeling bad about stuff, and history has clearly shown me that I'm not going to start behaving in a non-stupid manner any time soon. Why not just start not caring? Why not just jettison this damn conscience that's been giving me the blues all these years every time I do something crappy that makes someone unhappy? I've got a mission now, a positive one: I'm going to be the best fucking sociopath I can be. I'm going to not care so much, you're going to shit.

The realization has really opened my eyes to the possibilities. Like say my drinking at work. In the past, when I remember it, it's really torn me up inside to be drinking at work. I mean, that's just wrong. Not that I stopped; for one thing, it's easier to nap after a few belts. But now? Man, I can drink all I want at work and feel pretty awesome about it. Especially since I came up with this plan to squirrel whiskey bottles away in the server room, and then blame it on the IT guys when they inevitably get found. "I always suspected Skot," the higher-ups will say, "since he's always vomiting at our staff meetings. But I guess it was Tran all along."

The more that I think about it, the more I realize that not feeling bad about things will really improve my mental health. There's so many things that I feel bad about, all the time! Like concealing my gambling habits to the wife, or my fondness of calling in false 911 reports like, "Send an ambulance! A baby looked at me funny!" And maybe I'll stop having awful, guilt-ripped dreams over my penchant for surreptitiously reaching into my pants to cup my balls before picking up and replacing items of produce at the supermarket.

I don't have to feel bad any more. Dr. Stout has shown me the way. If I can just get my inner sociopath to open up, to blossom, I can self-actualize. I don't really even know what that term means, but my new conscience-free psychological makeup allows me to not feel bad about pretending that I do. Self-actualization means I feel awesome. Even if that means someone else has to feel like shit about it.

And I'm okay with that. I've always been an asshole. I didn't realize that that was only a foundation. I can become so much more. I'm ready to stand on the shoulders of giants. Or, for that matter, fucking dwarves, for all I care--which I don't! I love being a sociopath. I'll have to research each group's coat-buying habits to find out whose offer more traction.

Some of you might not approve of all this. And for the first time in my life, I can honestly say with great happiness, I don't care. It's a great time to be alive.