You don't have to be mentally ill to be these things. Considering the type of people that rule our world
(
) it seems that the most well adjusted people in our society are not only more than capable of being this, it seems like a requirement.
So I am no longer comfortable using the word psychopath (or any other "dark triad" nonsense) to describe these types of people. These people aren't struggling to function with a mental illness, they're of the exact mindset that thrives in our backwards society.
However I'm struggling to think of a suitable replacement word that carries with it the same "This is serial killer coded shit" vibe that calling someone a psychopath carries (and associating such a thing with psychopaths is ableist so I don't want to use the word in that way anymore)
Calling them ghouls, fascists or nazis doesn't carry the same weight. What kind of word bests describes the casual, dangerous heartlessness of people without throwing the mentally ill under the bus?
Edit: formatting
I felt inspired to write a poem about this just now. Might be a bit rough around the edges.
The Demonic Impulse
With so-called holy furor
They abolish your freedoms
And relish in human suffering
Your agonies are their lullabies
The impulse exists within most of us
The desire to see enemies laid low
Put in their place
For daring to resist 'the obvious truth'
It matters not which god you do it for
It matters not which master you serve
Or if you do it for no one at all
It is the path of demons
The path of cruelty
The path of treachery
When it becomes your agenda
To mete out the absolute
To define truth as your words alone
And disagreement as treason
When it becomes your right
To punish the punished
To torture the tortured
To ridicule that which you do not understand
To slide down the scale
And let contempt consume you
That they deserve your hatred
For not being you
It's to plunge your humanity into the tarpit
To wrest it by the neck and hold its face beneath the threshold
To revel in the bubbles which rise to the surface
And to spit on its weakness when the last one pops
You pull it back up, lungs full of rot
Flesh seared and melded with the impulse
This is what you breathe now
This is what you feel now
This is what you are now
Unfit for power
Unfit for polite society
You murdered the human within
And joined the ranks of the Demons
And so now we ask each other
Huddled amidst ourselves
What is to be done about the devils
Who seek a thousand thrones sewn from our faces
What is to be done
When you try to act
Like what you've done
Is normal
What is to be done
When you continue trying to pretend you're human
When the stench of your dead, rotted soul
Wafts in with every word you belch
The vile contempt you hold
For all that is living and good
The very concept of goodness in your mind
Has been unrecognizably disfigured
Fuck you.
We've given you a billion chances
To keep your disgusting mouth closed
Before we came to the foregone conclusion
That you'll get what's coming to you
One way or another