Telepathic Crime Spree

I’m not telepathic. I wish I was, but regardless of how many how many midgets I kidnap and dress up as leprechauns, life simply isn’t made of wishes. If I did have telepathic powers, I’d beam auditory transmissions of howler monkeys vomiting through megaphones to everyone I come in contact with. Why? Just to fuck up their day. What better use of a psychic ability could there be than to spoil everyone’s good time? I suppose telepathic powers could get me a talk show, but then I’d have to wear lavender suits and pretend to care about people’s problems. 

There are people who claim to be telepathic. Since I’m not inside the sand dunes that comprise their minds, I can’t say with confidence that they’re lying, though I assume they are when they act like normal, caring people. Powers like reading minds and sending brain messages would only be used for tomfoolery. Have you seen the people walking around outside? If they can’t use minimal brain functions to create a semi-dignified existence, wouldn’t extra abilities only exacerbate their ridiculous tendencies? The upright reptiles in front of CVS would use telepathy as an excuse to steal a truck and turn the parking lot into a zoo, and we know what kind of people go to the zoo.  

Lawrence from Rockford was headed to the zoo, looking for boys to help him explore his animal instincts, when psychic intervention halted his quest to the Neverland animal prison. Justin Bieber, the world’s most obnoxious penis mitten, telepathically instructed Lawrence to try his luck at the local high school instead. The Biequeefer’s mental voicemail paid off. Lawrence, to his finger-slithering delight, happened upon a boy’s swim meet. Riverside police found him mentoring his inner child in the bleachers. He told the officers he was there to watch his own kids, which probably raised more questions because of the trauma salami in his hand. Lawrence was charged with one count of disorderly conduct and one count of criminal trespass. Justin Bieber could not be reached for comment, but I doubt the testimony of a waxed muppet prostitute would hold up in court. 

The pool boy incident highlights a glaring problem within the realm of telepathy. Unreliability should be expected from most, if not all, people. Bieber telepathically nudged Lawrence to fondle himself to swimming schoolboys, so why didn’t that wiggling jizz casserole have the courtesy to transmit a mental memo warning Lawrence of the impending police cock block? Because Justin Bieber doesn’t care about his fans, that’s why. Though middle-aged pedophiles adore the manufactured blowup doll from the mythical land of Canada, Justin Bieber doesn’t give them even a fraction of the consideration they shoot into their sweatpants for him. Just because a talentless pop stain (or anyone else) gives you a telepathic command, doesn’t mean you should trust them. They’ll bail on you the moment cops arrive, leaving you in the back of a police car as they skip off to their next televised embarrassment. 

Daniel from Maple Grove should learn this life lesson. He was smoking pot and minding his own thoughts when he received a telepathic message from someone urging him to destroy their apartment. The sender of the message told Daniel to come over and break all their stuff, which only sounds unusual to people who can’t hate inanimate objects. Daniel, being of a helpful nature, finished his bowl and went to the apartment. A woman said she saw Daniel jump from the balcony of one apartment to another before smashing through the sliding glass door of his desired location. The apartment was vacant. I’m sure Daniel assumed the occupant was out buying sledgehammers and chainsaws for the long work ahead of them. Daniel, showing the highest levels of gumption, began work early, breaking everything in the apartment and tossing the wreckage through shattered door. 

One would think that such a prompt response and dedicated work ethic would result in gratitude, but no. People are ingrates. The apartment’s resident told police that he didn’t give Daniel permission to enter his abode, leaving Daniel holding the telepathic bag. Daniel was charged with second degree burglary because of this person’s wishy-washy nature. If only Daniel knew not to trust people, he wouldn’t have been punished for his humanitarian efforts. Obviously, telepathic people are predatory by nature. Sometimes they take your freedom and credibility, but sometimes they cross that invisible moral line and usurp something more dear to you than any ideal - your money. 

A telepathic couple in Vietnam advertised their ability to telepathically locate lost war casualties and scammed families out of thousands. Nguyen and his wife, Man, charged people around $4,700.00 each for locating a total of 105 graves filled with deceased war pulp. The graves were filled with animal bones that Nyguyen and Man would bury before “locating.” I can’t say whether it was grief, stupidity or a combination of both that led people to believe the remains were human, but I do know that greed would be the downfall of Nguyen and his Man-wife. Nguyen began working with the state-run Vietnam Bank for Social Policies, assisting them in locating missing soldiers presumed dead. Since government, in every form, is the biggest scam of all, Nguyen found out the hard way that you can’t scam a bigger scammer when he and his lovely Man were taken into custody. 

This story of animal carcasses and family reunions may lead one to believe that all telepaths are lazy and conniving, but I think the case of Rockefeller would prove otherwise. Clark Rockefeller, a German man, abducted his seven-year-old daughter, known to her family as “Snooks,” in Boston. During a supervised visit, Rockefeller knocked down a social worker, bundled his little Snooks and drove away with her. Snooks was found six days later and returned to her mother, Ms. Boss. Rockefeller claimed that Snooks was sending him telepathic messages, urging him to take her away from the Boss. Rockefeller, unlike the Vietnamese necro-matchmakers, was not lazy. The prosecutors stated that he had spent months meticulously planning the abduction, proving how little one can accomplish with enough effort. 

To further illustrate how much the telepathically inclined help the world, consider Mark from Parkersburg. Everyone in town thought Ed Thomas, the high school football coach, was a normal guy. Mark knew better. Mark knew that Thomas was Satan in disguise. I can believe that Satan would come to Earth in the form of a high school football coach. Any grown man who wears shorts, blows a whistle and is content with bossing around teenagers must be an affront to God. Mark stated that Ed “Big Red” Thomas raped him and brainwashed him through telepathy. Thinking only of other people’s safety, Mark stole a gun from his parents and murdered the devil. The bible, written by schizophrenic desert wanderers, says many things that overlap and contradict one another, so it wouldn’t be surprising to find a passage saying that Satan could be vanquished with an earthly firearm. 

Unfortunately for Mark, our justice system is run by godless heathens who don’t appreciate someone ridding the world of evil. Mark was arrested and charged with first degree murder. This leads to the question of how much telepathic abuse someone can suffer before putting a bullet through their tormentor. Could a steady stream of telepathy be enough to make someone famished for murder? Since people kill one another for doltish reasons everyday, I think the question is easily answered, but if we need more proof we can always turn to Ireland. 

Martin from Thurles committed the rare crime of parricide when he stabbed both of his parents in their sleep. I assume he shanked them with a sharpened shillelagh. According to his statement, everyday became a battleground. He received an endless amount of telepathic messages. At the time, he thought his parents were bad, but he later told the court that his parents were decent people, leading one to believe that his telepathic communications had at least waned during the trial. And why not? Even intangible head voices don’t want to waste their day in court when they can drink and look for pots of gold.

Telepathic stabbings seem to be common on the other side of the Atlantic. In England, a country filled with snooty placenta suckers and nouns that sound made-up on the spot, an eighteen-year-old student in Chorlton (also known as Chorlton-cum-Hardy) was stabbed to death by a man from Bracknell. Imran Hussain said the young man telepathically lobbed racial slurs into his mind. Before the stabbing, Imran took a blade from his parents home and travelled to Chorlton, laying waste to his claims of diminished responsibility. The fact that Imran cleaned the blade and changed his clothes after the attack didn’t help his claim of insanity either, but for all we know those actions could have been commanded by different telepathic communications. At least now when someone tells you you’re being racist you can look them in the eye and confidently tell them it’s all in their head. 

Despite the abundance of telepathically-controlled criminals, telepathic influences don’t always lead people to commit violence. Sometimes, brainwave dispatches alone can victimize someone. Meloney from Utah claimed that she was telepathically raped by her neighbor on several occasions. Those wacky women are always crying telepathic rape. Even though Meloney looks like the illegitimate offspring of a sock puppet who got hate fucked by a frog, she believes her neighbor had to have her swampy brainhole. She comes from the land of magic underwear and golden plates, so it’s not hard to see why she would believe such a thing or how she could persuade her husband to believe it. After convincing Michael, her husband, that such mental violations had occurred, he took a handgun they kept under their pillow and shot the neighbor twice in the back. The neighbor lived, cursing Utah’s population to be mind raped by someone who doesn’t call himself a prophet.

I’m left to wonder what constitutes a telepathic rape. Is it merely the projection of non-consensual images or does the mind actually have to be penetrated by fuzzy brain rays? Obviously, this is a serious and complex problem that demands our immediate attention. Whatever pyramid schemes the government is currently developing should be put on hold while we deal with this issue. Who’s to say someone won’t project lewd thoughts into your brain at the library? Safety from telepathic rape can only be achieved through legislation. 

It seems that in a world of telepathic criminals, average people are helpless. We’ve seen solutions to this menace fail in the past. Tin foil hats, for instance, do not block telepathic mind beams as advertised. Everyone knows that heat makes metal expand and telepathic brain waves are about as warm as the defrost option on a microwave. Naturally, the tin foil hats expand when exposed to telepathy, leaving creases and openings for the telepathic waves to seep through. This is simple physics. I’m pretty sure they review this topic in high school science classes. Even though I always went to class stoned I remember it perfectly. The only reason this isn’t advertised is because it would bankrupt the economy by putting the tin foil industry out of business. 

As with all problems, the solution comes from within. Conflict is the fuel of the universe. Telepathic criminals need to see that their influence has results. These results are initiated by actions. The only way to prevent action is a firm resolve towards inaction. The next time your brain is under siege by suggestions or vulgarities from telepathic sadists, send your own transmission. Of course, not any transmission will do. The message your brain needs to repeat to your would-be attacker must be one that will make them see the uselessness of their endeavor. Based on what I’ve seen from the comments sections of online articles, the best method would be to endlessly repeat your stupid political opinions. The telepathic attacker will instantly grow bored and flee for more interesting horizons. I know I would.

Trigger Warning: Your Feelings Are Stupid

When phrases like “trigger warning” emerge, historians should mark the occasion as a new chapter in mankind’s continuing slide towards becoming a cluster of frightened gerbils. Trigger warnings have been popping up on what nettlesome hollow-domes refer to as the “interweb” for years, but I live most of my life offline, so I’ve only just heard of them. Trigger warnings (often abbreviated as “TW”) are short descriptions of triggering subjects placed after the article’s header and before the body. They give away the content, proving once again that spontaneity is something that should be abhorred. It’s done in the name of empathy, which doesn’t make sense. Empathy is a tumor on the brain’s prefrontal cortex. Why would anyone dedicate anything but a scalpel to it? 

I can see why the bland and stupid alike delight in trigger warnings. Like other precautions, they take the guesswork out of life. Unpredictable events are scary and confusing. How can a person be expected to anticipate a cup of coffee being hot, a shiny floor being slippery or some things on the internet not being agreeable with their sensibilities? It’s not as though they can control what they type into a search engine or anticipate the content of an article based it’s title. Predicting imminent subjects brought on by their own typing? People aren’t psychic. Most of them can’t even figure out how to use a self-checkout lane at the grocery store. 

Feminism is the radical notion that women can silence detractors by shouting over them. Along with asinine compound words such as “(insert noun or adjective) shaming” and “(insert noun or adjective) privilege,” trigger warnings were nuggets of cerebral mildew thrust onto the internet by feminist bloggers. When I looked up trigger warnings, the first site I found was geekfeminism.wikia.com. The “wikia” part of the web address made me take pause, as I knew the most noxious levels of ineptitude were sure to follow. I pressed on regardless, willingly subjecting my mind to the theoretical slop trough that is feminist writing. When I read the following sentence, I was triggered with fantasies of mass genocide:

“The phrase ‘trigger warning’ may itself be triggering to some trauma survivors.”

That’s right - trigger warnings may, in and of themselves, inspire triggers in trauma survivors. According to this mutilated logic, the courtesy warning is a potential linguistic predator raping a reader’s cognitive wellbeing, but it’s put into place anyways because, um....patriarchy! That’s why! Of course, actual results are of no concern to the “equality” broadcasters. What matters is committing oneself to empty gestures that, while never accomplishing anything of substance, will lead the rest of the femitwits and social justice Tumblr-tards to nod their barren heads in collective approval. Sensitivity is the trend of today. Forget writing about something intelligent, funny or interesting. If you can muster up enough outrage over life’s frivolous details you get to hang with the internet’s cool kids. 

Trigger warnings don’t help trauma survivors because anything can be a trigger, even the word “trigger.” For instance, if someone was nearly raped around a bunch of greeting cards, wouldn’t they freak out every time they pass a Hallmark store? I don’t see anyone putting trigger warnings on greeting cards. Apparently, our insensitive world doesn’t care about these victims. Maybe it’s too bothersome to fit a warning next to a flying half-naked baby mass-murdering people with arrows. Warning or no warning, I’m pretty sure the triggered trauma pile would slip into hysterics during the holidays. 

One of the defining staples of feminism and online social justice egalitarians is that they’re always wrong. Given this objective and completely non-biased truth, it comes as no surprise that the best way to help people with PTSD is by doing the exact opposite of using trigger warnings. Prolonged Exposure (PE) Therapy, if you can’t guess from its name, exposes a patient to triggering stimuli over a prolonged period of time. Numerous studies have proven that PE has the most empirical support in the treatment of trauma patients. By being consistently exposed to their trauma, the patient is, overtime, desensitized and the effects of their PTSD are reduced. Trigger warnings, on the other hand, encourage avoidance coping each time they’re used. The act of avoiding creates stress and anxiety, not to mention a sheltered life. This anxiety only gets worse with time, leading one to fly into a frenzy over the most trifling of circumstances. 

At this point I’m sure trigger warning advocates would say something akin to: 

“Yeah, well, whatever! It’s not like trigger warnings are being forced on anyone. Patriarchy!”

Oh, how wrong they are. 

UC Santa Barbara’s student senate recently proved why democracy doesn’t work. The “senators” passed a resolution requiring professors to issue trigger warnings for material that may prompt negative vibes in a fragile mind. Naturally, colleges are meant to cater to the weakest of intellects. Sitting in a stew of sentiment-drizzled bile is a provision stating that students who opt out of attending class for the day, because they’re so traumatized by words and pictures, will not be docked points. I’m sure no one will abuse that entitlement. 

This isn’t an isolated incident. Students who haven’t been thrust into the dying workforce and don’t know how lucky they are to attend college have taken to whining about icky topics. The Great Gatsby is so fucking traumatizing. People die and someone commits murder and suicide! OMG! 

Oberlin University published a document stating that their professors should use trigger warnings in the classroom. Apparently, mandating a sphere of abstract safety is what colleges now consider “higher learning.”

Remember when adults used to bitch about how young people were too wild and outrageous? Reality is once again turned inside out. Students are now whining that their stuffy old professors aren’t sensitive enough. This is the one thing about the trigger warning craze I can see something positive in. For years professors have preached the virtues of tolerance and being open-minded. Now they’re forced to tolerate the most imbecilic levels of hypersensitivity an open mind can plop out. Eaten by their own philosophy - hilarious!

Don’t think this will stop with blogs and classrooms. In the spirit of the PMRC, who, in the eighties, successfully pushed to mandate warnings or “Tipper Stickers” on album covers, the trigger warning crowd won’t let up until they get their way. They’ve gathered their numbers and they’re pushing for change. This is known as “mob rule.” Over at Change.org, a website used by busybodies to force their beliefs on others, a petition to put trigger warnings on TV has been underway for some time. I’m pretty sure that TV shows already put content descriptors before a program starts, but they don’t contain the actual words “trigger warning,” so they must not be sensitive enough. In our society of coddlers and do-gooders, I’m sure they’ll eventually succeed in getting trigger warnings placed on TV. I’m also sure these trigger warnings will issue the same bounty of rewards that the PMRC’s “Tipper Stickers” have produced. In other words, none. 

To summarize, the argument for trigger warnings against evidence of their uselessness breaks down in the following cycle:

“Trigger warnings help people with PTSD.”

Ten seconds later....

“Okay, maybe they don’t help people, but it’s not like they’re being forced on anyone.”

Ten seconds later...

“Do what we say you ignorant bigot!”

A question I’ve wasted barrels of time on keeps infesting my mind, especially in cases like this. Why would someone systematically try to control and dictate their own thoughts? What compels a person to self-censor the ideas floating through their noggin? Unless it’s acknowledged, the idea will keep manifesting itself. A man denying his homosexuality will, inevitably, see a phallus in nearly every object he encounters. I’m not sure what the female equivalent would be. Perhaps damp wedges would fill her world. A person denying their feelings of hatred and ugliness will unknowingly act like a cunt to everyone. It’s funny that in this epoch of human history people consider themselves so open-minded and educated, yet they’re still trying to chase away the evil brain demons. 

It makes me wonder how far this fad will go. Stupid ideas, like a virus, don’t take a rest. They consume and ruin anyone and anything foolish enough to accept them. The way I see it playing out is universal trigger warnings for everything. In order to up the ante in their poses for empathetic chic status, the social justice brigade will have to show their dusty predecessors of yesteryear how compassion is really executed - by issuing a trigger warning for all nouns and verbs.

Hence, we will be blessed with trigger warnings whenever a fire-haired jester tries selling happy burgers to kids because somewhere, at some point in time, someone was probably raped by a clown. Treadmills will come with trigger warnings because it’s likely that someone has tried to commit suicide while working out. Don’t snicker, it’s true. A segment of the world’s exercisers have body issues and people with body issues get depressed and people who get depressed sometimes try to kill themselves. So why not put a warning on exercise equipment? What about walking? You better believe the act of walking will come with a trigger warning. People get attacked when they walk all the time. Some people shit their pants while speed walking. Either way, it’s a traumatic experience and they should be encouraged to build walls around those memories. 

Indeed, I don’t think the trigger warning dictators will stop until every conversation begins with “trigger warning.” This is how a typical work discussion will go down:

“Trigger Warning: What I’m about to say may trigger panic attacks in anyone who’s ever experienced work-related stress, paper cuts or sexual assault with rolled up documents.”

“Anyways, did you print out the monthly sales report?”

Response:

“Trigger Warning: What I’m about to say may trigger panic attacks in anyone who’s ever experienced depression due to severe levels of disappointment that have somehow led to sexual assault.”

“Like I was saying, the printer’s still offline. I emailed IT about it twice, but I haven’t heard back. They’re probably out to lunch for the fiftieth time.”

Though it’s reworded and expressed in different terms, the act of telling other people what they want and need has been around since civilization’s birth. As always, it’s practiced by elitist pseudo-intellectuals who consider themselves the world’s only enlightened voices. Unfortunately, most people are too dumb to question anything, especially if it’s a warm, fuzzy sentiment that enforces symbolic gestures and rejects analysis, so they go along with the ridiculously self-serving and obviously flawed empathy wagon, lest they be called a big meanie. In doing so, they make themselves complacent as they look towards condescending warnings that protect them from the horrible act of thinking. 

Why would anyone try to navigate away from negative thoughts? I love negative thoughts. Their ability to destroy the weaker minds of the world titillates my sense of wonderment. And no, I won’t give a warning when I laugh at the wreckage of your former bubbled existence. In all fairness, I will yell “Bombs away!” when I flick dumpster cheese at your tear-stained face. 

Don’t say I didn’t warn you.