Friday, January 29, 2010

Only dates the bad boys

Okay, I've totally not been pulling my weight around here. Granted my butt has been stuck in bed post-op, but still, I could have tried a little harder to do something more than nothing. However, this week's topic has taken a shine to my heart. Seriously.

I love me a bad boy.

When Hannibal Lecter exploded onto the scene in Silence of the Lambs I had shivers and not of fear. My friends were actually more freaked out by the freak sitting next to them than by the one on the screen I was so happy-bouncy in my chair in the theater. Yes, I squealed like a teen groupie at a Jonas Brother concert, and this was after reading the book first (a rare thing for those who know true book-fiends).

Over the years I've had love affairs (in my mind) with great villains of screen and literature, never the real deal. Why not the real thing? There is a fine line between genius and insanity, in fiction the line is delicately danced over, polished up and made to glow. In reality that shining veneer is ripped off and laid bare in such a way that every hard edge and angle is exposed so that only the true sociopath could cover themselves with enough hubris to emerge with a modicum of attraction for this ever inquisitive mouse.

But right now, I think the leading man for best bad guy has to be the brother of FBI Agent Aloyius Pendergast (created by the ever talented writers Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child) - Diogenes Dagrepont Bernoulli Pendergast. Hmmm....but then the lot of the Pendergast family had some nifty mass murderers in it aside from Diogenes. I think I related to him rather well because of the mismatched eyes and the brain damage coupled with high intelligence. Not a combination you come across every day, you know. This man doesn't strive to be understood, looked up to, or even accepted, he has a goal and a means to an end - his own psychopathy dipped in sociopathic tendencies stewed in vast quantities of knowledge and intellect. Regardless of looks, he's a hell of a package to a freak like me. Or is that kindred soul? Once upon a time it would have been a scary thought... as I get older, it doesn't even worry me, it just interests me all the more...

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