I, Psychopath
Stephen M. Kahn, Ph.D.
Copyright © 2008 by Stephen M. Kahn, Ph.D.
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CONTENTS
I, PSYCHOPATH
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
I, PSYCHOPATH
A novel by Stephen M. Kahn, Ph.D.
Author of “A Passion for Crime”, and
“The Other Side of Evil: Memoirs of a Predatory Sex Offender”
(under the name of Mitchell K. Stephens).
The majority of criminals that the public is accustomed to learning about span the breadth of crimes that include: murder, robbery, arson, rape, muggings, burglaries, assaults, child abuse, domestic violence, and white collar types. There is no doubt that these crimes can often involve violence, humiliation, disgrace, shame and loss of needed possessions to the victims. The perpetrators of these acts are comprised of a segment of society who believes that they can acquire assets of others without the benefit of having to earn them, or can use people to satisfy their needs in a very destructive manner. These selfish people commit crimes that are the backbone of sensational news accounts that readers and listeners find interesting. Most of those who follow these lurid details may think that they have seen the worst of humanity but oddly enough, these felons are not the most depraved of their ilk. Many of them can carry on normal lives and live within the margins of society except when exhibiting their deviant streaks. They usually have plans and goals, families and oftentimes, jobs that range from basic work to high level roles. It is only when they are caught by the law, that their dual existence comes to light and invokes great surprise from those who know them. Unfortunately, there exists a far greater danger to the public from another type of person, who often can commit his crimes for long periods of time before making a mistake that leads to apprehension and incarceration. This person is one of the antisocial types described by diagnostic manuals and particularly identified as a “psychopath”.
People with this label differ from other types of criminals in many ways and can sometimes be distinguished through their charm and intelligence which usually masks their true character. At their worst, they can be described as selfish, untruthful, unremorseful, incapable of love or affection, and unable to attain pleasures beyond the physical realm. While they may appear to be rational thinkers, in actuality, their judgment is poor, the ability to learn from mistakes is missing, long range plans for a productive life are not evident and their cause and effect knowledge is severely limited. Because they are mostly free from worry and anxiety, anti social acts can be committed without guilt feelings or concern for the victims suffering. These attributes or lack of them, make the psychopath more dangerous than any other law breaker and the most difficult to stop. All that the law can do is react to what has occurred and continue looking for ways to identify this person until he makes a mistake that brings about his arrest. The situations created by this person are very difficult for society to understand and little has been known about the development and motivations of these fringe deviants.
I, Psychopath, is a novel based on the authors’ experiences with this element of criminal behavior and describes the earliest experiences that shaped the formation of thought processes and anti social actions. The story is a composite of several similar subjects and hopefully, will enlighten the general public to the true nature of this group and their excessively destructive patterns.
Stephen M. Kahn, Ph.D.
April, 2008
CHAPTER ONE
Looking back on all the things I’ve done that many people call nasty and evil does not convince me that they were right. I always believed that my reasons for doing something had a good rationale even if others didn’t think so. I do have to admit that my thinking and actions did not always jibe with how other people conducted their lives but our country allows for differences in how we act. Anyone who judges my behavior has no business doing so unless I can judge theirs also. However, the majority always seems to rule and many of them have deemed my actions illegal and despicable. I can argue all day long about it but it doesn’t do me one bit of good. Power resides in the law and the law always wins. All I can really do is accept their decisions and try to make the best of it, but it’s not always easy when I’m facing a long sentence. All I’ll look forward to now is prison until I die and at my age, many years are going to pass until that fateful day arrives. I still can’t understand why many so called “good citizens” have taken a personal interest in my situation without even knowing the facts or the kind of person they are looking at. It just seems to be another instance where those without money or power get the shaft without any chance to fight back. Most likely, my story will be forgotten in a short while and my name will become synonymous with a number of other sensational lawbreakers who gave the public some excitement for a time. I’m sure that in the future, everything that I did will be exaggerated and vilified even worse than it is now. The only saving grace available at this moment is to write my story while it’s still fresh in my mind and hope that some of the people reading it will understand my motives. Who knows what will be made of my tale in a hundred years? I might even become a folk hero in the style of John Dillinger or Pretty Boy Floyd. That would be quite a feather in my cap and remove the stigma of evil that surrounds my name. Wouldn’t that be a laugh on all the prosecutors who spent time chasing and persecuting me for so many years? I can hardly wait for it to happen.
When I think back on my early life, it’s hard to pick out anything unusual that might have created future tendencies. I can barely remember my parents as a couple because a few years after my birth, they split up and seeing my father became a rarity. My mother never remarried but did have several men friends over the years, most of whom ignored me. One of the men, Lester, actually seemed to like me but he wasn’t around for very long. A few of the suitors treated me cruelly as if my presence caused a problem in their lives. Childhood was not a particularly happy time since I had no other relatives nearby and depended entirely on my mother for everything that was essential to life. I don’t have very good recall about my activities until reaching the age of about eight years. At that juncture, I had a few friends from scho
ol and seemed to live a fairly normal life. I do recall that my temper was very explosive and I could fly off the handle for the slightest of reasons. This facet of my character did not endear me to many people and the only friends I had were those who could tolerate my outbursts. On a few occasions, my mother had been called to school by the Principal to discuss my aggressiveness but she never thought it was so bad. I don’t know what they might have recommended to her as a solution because she never made any attempt to change my behavior.
My mother was a very forgiving woman who often let me have my way and rarely used discipline. I suppose that she couldn’t bring herself to punish her only child which suited me fine. Because she was alone so often, there were periods when I was the only other person in her life which frequently resulted in long boring talks between us. Most of the time, I didn’t know what she was implying but it was easy to tell that I was the object of her adoration. I used her doting to my advantage by urging and persuading her to buy me various toys and games even if they were of no use to me. My mother worked as a teacher’s aide in an elementary school and didn’t earn a lot of money but she was able to stretch out her income so that we could live decently. My father, who showed up once in awhile, probably didn’t give her much assistance but she never complained. As I think back on it, she acted like the true martyr. I don’t know if any of her male companions helped out although several of them liked to eat her cooking. Whatever, the situation was, we got by without ever requesting public assistance which would have been a downer for me. I remember that occasionally, some of the men would stay overnight but always leave in the morning. From what I learned about my mother, she didn’t want a permanent or even long term relationship and probably didn’t care much for men. If I tried to guess why, the answer would have something to do with my father leaving without much of an explanation. In any event, her life style suited me and I never asked too many questions about any of the relationships.
School was always a welcome relief from boredom at the house and while I never liked the control that teachers exercised over me, it gave me a chance to broaden my experiences. I was a smart boy and never had to work very hard nor spend much time on homework. Not only did it make my mother proud that I could do so well, but it brought a certain amount of respect from school teachers who tolerated my eccentricities. I shouldn’t say that all teachers ignored my tantrums because there were several instances of a visit to the Principal and receiving some punishments. But most times, I got away with almost anything.
The friends I had at school were few and far between. They were boys who agreed with my actions and sometimes committed similar outbursts. The two that I remember best were Bart and Cal because they liked to hang out with me during recess and after school. Both of them were capable of doing anything as was I, and the three of us would often fantasize about committing mischievous acts. We were risk takers and wanted to do something that was daring and fun but we were limited by our young ages as to what it could be. We were all eight years old and not capable of doing something on a grand scale but making a profit from our actions was very important. We would sit around after school and come up with ideas about what would be easy to steal or damage. Finally, we decided on breaking into gum machines and taking the change for spending money. We were aware that this type of machine was everywhere and usually unwatched. It wouldn’t be hard to break the lock with a hammer when no one was around, empty the coins, and make a quick getaway. We swore an allegiance of loyalty and secrecy to each other and set out the next day after school to begin our new adventures.
Cal and I bought hammers to school with us and met Bart after the last class bell had rung. We secured the hammers in our belts and headed for a nearby strip mall where several of the gum machines were located outside of small grocery stores. At that time of the day, the mall was not busy and few shoppers were in the area which was good for us. We decided to break the machine that was furthest from one of the store entrances, put the money in our bags and calmly walk away. Bart was the lookout and would warn us if anyone was approaching or watching us intently. We would approach the machine and whack the lock mechanism until it broke off. Then, it would not take more than a few minutes to complete the theft. I was very excited to be committing my first crime and I’m sure the others were also. I could feel a heady rush going up and down my body that made me feel super powerful. There was no thought in my mind of something going wrong and ending up in jail. I was too strong for that to happen.
We approached the machine and Bart took up his position near the doorway of the store where we could see any signals of danger from his motions. At a particular moment, when no one was looking our way or within one hundred feet of us, we took out our hammers and smashed the lock repeatedly until it finally gave way and crumbled to the ground. Either we were not very strong or the metal was tougher than I thought but after the mechanism was destroyed, we opened the little door and scooped out all the coins that were inside. Putting them in our bags quickly, we just started ambling slowly away from the store with Bart trailing behind. It might have been luck, but no one had seemed to hear anything and within minutes, we were gone. We walked to a nearby park and looked in our bags at the piles of nickels, dimes and quarters We decided to count the change right then and there and split the money. The three of us took turns looking around the area to make sure that no one could see us and counted the change which amounted to eleven dollars and forty five cents. Each of us only got about three dollars and eighty cents but at our age, it was a tidy amount that could buy lots of goodies. We congratulated each other on a job well done and were happily surprised that the entire theft had been so easy to accomplish.
Each of us returned to our homes and quickly going to my room, I decided to hide the money in a pair of shoes that were under my bed. I could certainly buy some nice things with the money but there was a sense of disappointment about how small the amount was. If that was all I could get from a gum machine then the risk was far too high to continue doing the same action, and some other type of more profitable venture had to be sought. I wasn’t going to worry about it now but would discuss my ideas with the other two before making another move. In the meantime, I suppose that we could continue to smash gum machines a few times a week and make sufficient money for our needs. I felt a great deal of elation and power throughout my entire being after so easily committing a daring act and looked forward to having these feelings heightened as more crimes were accomplished. I’m sure that the other boys felt the same and together, we definitely made a good team. I didn’t feel any sympathy for the people who we took money from since they probably had plenty to spare. If anything, they were stealing from the kids who put their money in the slots for a piece of gum that was overpriced anyway. The more that I thought about these owners, the more justified were my actions against them. At this moment, my only concern was how to spend this money.
My mother never inquired too deeply into my whereabouts and was always satisfied that I was at home when she arrived. She probably believed that I was doing proper activities and staying out of mischief. Other than a few times when the school had demanded her appearance, there were no other overt instances of wrongdoing on my part. By the time she came home and made dinner, her body was exhausted from the days’ work and other than asking a few cursory questions about my routine, she was content to merely rest and watch television. She had a boyfriend at this time and they would go out on some weekends without leaving a baby sitter with me. My mother knew that leaving me alone was against the law but I’m sure that she neglected the sitter to save money. It didn’t bother me because in my mind, I felt more like an adult. I would have liked to have gone out also at night but being so young, it was too dangerous even for an independent guy like me.
The act of stealing something was very exciting to me but it wasn’t the only pleasure in my life. During the few times that I had been physically abused without reason by men visiting my mother, a rage had developed within
me that was just aching to come out. I couldn’t act against these older men and my mother just didn’t want to hear about it, so I started seeking ways to satisfy my urges. Occasionally at school, I would pick on smaller and younger boys in ways that made them cry. Care had to be taken that they didn’t report me to a teacher although it happened a few times for which I received many lectures about bullying. I seemed to get a sense of relief when annoying or hurting others that nothing else, even stealing, could match and as my age increased, so did the number of incidents. There was no way I was going to challenge older and stronger boys and physically confronting girls was out of the question. I had tried that tact and quickly learned that they ran directly to a teacher which resulted in more lectures. I wanted to cause pain but couldn’t find the right victims so the only alternative left to me was hurting animals. Whenever, the situation was right, I had kicked cats and threw stones at dogs. Watching them cry out gave me a powerful sense of strength and I continued doing these actions more and more over time. However, I became a little careless in my quest for pleasure and was accused of maiming a neighbors’ dog with a pointed stick. The neighbor had actually seen me stab the dog and reported it to the police. A few days later, they visited my home and talked to my mother about my destructive tendencies. They only gave me a warning but said that if it happened again, I would go to juvenile court for a hearing. My mother took their words very seriously and gave me a very stern lecture which annoyed my otherwise unconcerned attitude. She also grounded me for two weeks with no television watching and she made sure that neighbors let her know when I came home from school. That was one of the rare times that she actually disciplined me and it provided enough reasons to avoid further conflicts with her. She still had a great deal of authority over me and I had to pacify her in some way.
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