narcissism was positively related to salary, Machiavellianism was positively related to leadership position and career satisfaction, and psychopathy was negatively related to all analyzed outcomes.
The “Dark Triad” isn’t just a Hong Kong gang from a Jackie Chan movie, it’s in each of us. These insidious malevolences have been found to equate to the western sense of “success”, especially in Germany. Could this explain the VW emissions debacle?
“Sie werden nehmen wertvollen Leitersprosse Platz für meinen Fuß !”
So this all begs the question, how best to survive/thrive in the face of this darkness? We really can’t call this a “trend” in that jerks have always risen to the top of the corporate cesspool, but it’s still worth a teenser bit of exploration. To heighten the irony, let’s extract this from the glass and formica of the corporate world and inject some Sith into a bucolic bastion of nicey nicey, the next board meeting of your scavenged bicycle co-operative. Imagine the twisted countenances around the table at the bike cave when you show up, late of course, dressed in black and distorting your voice through a toilet paper tube covered in black duct tape. As a side note, HawtNext cannot stress enough the importance of having a large supply of cardboard tubes! Every dark sider has a distorted voice. Next, stand ominously at the head of the table and glare at the velocipedian neo-hippies. “I tire (sick humor is a sure sign of psychoapthy) of your inaction and timidity” you deeply intone with clenched fist in front of you. “The time for action is NOW!” What the action is, is unimportant, the importance is that you’ve made them feel feckless and ineffectual. “You!” pointing at the unicycle representative. “I admire your purity, align with me and we will control the streets!” Yes, your transition is complete, you are sowing discord and disarray playing factions against each other. Because the unicyclist is also a mime, he wont say anything when you pretend to air-squeeze his throat for hesitating to do your bidding, he may even pretend to wince because mimes like to play along. Now turn on the heel of your black keen sandals and leap on your bike (try not to get your cloak caught in the single fixed gear) and ride off cackling “I’ll get you and your little dog too!” None of this will of course work because the Freewheeler Co-op is an Anarcho-syndicalist collective and being a jerk at work relies on a hierarchical power structure.
By the way, if you are dealing with someone who is part of the Dark Triad (especially if it’s yourself), try some honesty and humility, a sure fire remedy for a case of the meanies.
You did it before. Remember when your folk-metal trio recorded that 3 song EP on Audacity, burned it to a CD and mailed it to yourself thinking, “There, Nine Inch Nails can NEVER STEAL THESE TUNES!” Well, you can use all the same labels and packaging again when you mail your own DNA to yourself. Uber-Mega_Agri_Corps like Monsanto and Sony are out to own your individual genetic fingerprint, you better get the jump on them. Do it quick before the GMO corn accidentally used to make your Stacy’s Tortilla causes your fingerprint to devolve and become a footprint. Seriously, the next time you are getting a new gauge for your ear gap, take the disc of unused flesh and put it in a zip lock baggie. Drop that in an envelope and then another envelope (for the lawyers), include your 23andme reports for ultimate bases covering then ride your fixed gear bike to the post office and send it yourself via registered mail. When it comes, put the envelope in your freezer next to the free range rabbit carcass that you hit with your Chevy volt the other day and sit back knowing you are … one step ahead of the Man(santo).
UPDATE (06/13/13) See, this is how we roll. If you didn’t take our advice the day we give it, YOU ARE ONE OUT OF LUCK HIPSTER. You snooze, you loose! We’ll work on getting the info out sooner but, the onus is on you to stay on top of the NEXT HIPSTER TREND!
There are very few opportunities in hipster life where it’s permissible to stalk and entrap another living thing, street mimes are one of them. The important thing to remember here is that the mimes don’t consider this entrapment. Done correctly, to them it is “play” and welcomed interaction during lonely stints in mall food courts and birthday parties. Any mime “catch and release” action is a delicate dance between the mime’s innate desire to include others in their silent antics and their almost impish ability to make fun of whatever you’re trying to do. The trick is to leverage their sad need for complicity into a scenario where you’ve gotten control of the mime in a storyline they themselves inadvertently helped create. Don’t worry, it’s for everyone’s good. Mimes are twisted parodies of reality whose silence is deafening. Being beret wearers, mimes are naturally predisposed to be welcoming to hipsters and hipster attention, use this to gain their trust. Start by standing near them talking on your phone. Mimes see this as an immediate invitation to get behind you and mockingly pretend to be you. Allow this as a simple entree into an ensuing mime / hipster tête-à-tête. You’ll get mad … the mime will exaggerate your huffing and puffing … you’ll facepalm, the mime will facepalm (and fall over feigning exhaustion). You’ll stammer loudly, the mime will wind walk in the face of your screaming … Finally you’ll begin to walk away, the mime will try to pull you back with an invisible rope. Now you’ve got them right where you want them. They’ve committed to a willing suspension of dis-belief. The second you fake getting jerked back by them, you’ve set the hook. They now have to support your every pantomimed assertion.
Your first instinct will be to jerk the rope back and wrap them up quickly, thereby entrapping them. Not so fast, the mime will certainly have an imaginary dagger to free themselves and go back to hazing you. It would be far better to start slowly with a small fake box. Set it down at the mimes feet. The assembled mall shoppers will be totally into this by now. Open the box and take out an invisible hammer. Hold it up to the mime, they may try to sniff it like it’s a pretty flower. Don’t let them! This is the mime’s insidious attempt to wrestle the storyline back from you. YOU CANNOT LET THIS HAPPEN. Pretend to smack your open palm with it, that’s internationally recognized in Mime-ish as “hammer.” Now begin building a wall, use your hands to pantomime the dimensions of the wall. Some mime classes will help you hone your skills here, but don’t go to far down the rabbit hole, just get a video and watch it at home. Fake walk into the wall, mimes love this and will repeat it after you. Now quickly build another wall. Again, the mime will eat this up because you’re play it’s silly game and they LOVE corners because they can hold their hands flat and push against air like it’s hard as rock. As the mime is busy defining the imaginary corner by pushing on both sides (watch out for Italian mimes, they will likely attempt to pee in the corner) you can quickly build out the other two walls. MIMES MUST RESPECT IMAGINARY WALLS … it’s part of the covenant they signed in blood with the devil to acquire their freakishly eerie mime skills. Pull the last invisible nine penny nail from between your lips and silently hammer the lid closed, maintaining eye contact with your now-entrapped foe. You’ve caught your first mime. The onlookers will erupt in applause. Bow low before you set up an imaginary chair, open up your imaginary mime field journal, and face the mime for study. After you’ve had your fun, don’t for get to tag it with a tracking chip for scientific research and public safety then release it back into the wild with hopes that it gets hit by an imaginary (or real) car.
The open-air flea market was flush that day. You picked up a few Herb Alpert records, a Frankenberry T-shirt, a crocheted hat made out of purple yarn and Old Style cans (later that night on the rooftop you called this “folk art” and we all nodded in agreement), a vintage bike bell, and a pair of sweet sunglasses that are designed to lay on top of other glasses.
You couldn’t believe your score. Everyone was having a fit over those kind of sunglasses that summer and Walgreens couldn’t even keep them in stock. Most people wore new ones, crisp black boxes slid over black-framed nerd glasses. A few adventurous souls wore the “As Seen On TV” amber-lensed version, which promised to give “HD Vision.” But yours were different. They stood out, with their frames smudged and worn down by the gnarled fingers of some nameless nonagenarian. They reeked of stale Pall Malls and Ben Gay, but you didn’t wash them off; they were perfect as they were. Authentic. What made those scratches on the side? A bad spill down the stairs, or more general use? You thought with envy of all the items that must have rattled around alongside them in that old lady’s purse. Every one of those items would look well dench on your nightstand.
But listen up, Salvador: The time has come to take a walk past the nursing home and leave those things sitting on a retaining wall. You have a burden riding on your face, and we’re not talking about your trash-stash, which is coming along nicely by the way. Options include laser eye protection and most groovy, Inuit-style snow goggles made with roadkill bone.
At this point, having a fit over these kind of sunglasses is like wearing a pair of novelty glasses from a 2002 New Year’s Eve party. Actually, scratch that. Those would be pretty sweet.