Saturday, March 31, 2018

A RWBY Christmas Carol: Stave III

A RWBY Christmas Carol is not endorsed by Rooster Teeth in any way. Views, opinions, and thoughts are all my own. Rooster Teeth and RWBY are trade names or registered trademarks of Rooster Teeth Productions, LLC. © Rooster Teeth Productions, LLC.

Ozpin woke with a start. He was surprised to find himself in bed. Then the previous visions of the evening struck him, but he couldn’t tell if they were dreams, manifestations of his imagination, or if they had been real. Thinking it best not to dwell on them too intently, he laid his head back down and tried to fall asleep again until he heard the church bell ring twice. “‘Expect the second when the bell tolls two’,” he quoted Ironwood.
Suddenly there was a shining light from across the room. Ozpin lifted his head and looked at the door across from his bed. Lights danced from underneath it and through the door itself. He then heard jolly laughter. “Oh-ho!”
More out of fright than curiosity, Ozpin rose and went to the door. Just as he was about to turn the key to lock it, a voice bid him by name to enter lest he wanted to be fetched in person. With a shaking hand, Ozpin grabbed the knob and gave it a turn, but when he opened it, he was amazed at the wonders he saw.
It was his own room; there was no doubt about that, but it had undergone a surprising transformation. The walls and ceiling were draped with living green from which bright gleaming berries glistened. The crisp leaves of holly, mistletoe, and ivy reflected back the light, as if many little mirrors had been scattered throughout the room, and there was such a mighty blaze roaring up the chimney unlike any there had ever been before. Heaped up on the floor, to form a kind of throne, were turkeys, geese, great joints of meat, suckling pigs, long wreaths of sausages, mince pies, plum puddings, cherry red apples, juicy oranges, immense cakes, and seething bowls of punch. Atop the throne was a jolly giant with grey hair, a moustache, and beard with not such a little, round belly but a portly belly. In one hand, he held a weapon that was a blunderbuss musket on one end and a double bitted axe on the other, while in his other hand, he bore a glowing torch in the shape of Plenty's horn. He held it up high to shed its light on Ozpin as he came peeping round the door.
“Oh-ho! Come in!” exclaimed the Ghost. “Come in, and know me better, man!”
Ozpin entered timidly, still shaking. He kept his gaze low and tried not to meet the spirit’s, but Ozpin had taken notice that the spirit’s eyes weren’t immediately visible.
“I am the Ghost of Christmas Present,” said the Spirit. “Look upon me.”
Ozpin did so slowly.
“You have never seen the likes of me before?”
“Have you never sought out and met my brothers?”
“I don’t think I have,” said Ozpin. “Have you had many?”
“Oh, just more than eighteen hundred.”
“Eighteen hundred? Quite a tremendous family to provide for.”
The Ghost of Christmas Present rose with a chuckle.
“Spirit,” said Ozpin submissively. “Conduct me where you will. I went forth earlier on compulsion, and I learned a lesson which is working now. Tonight, if you have something to teach me, let me profit by it.”
“Teach?! Why, if I could will myself mortal, I would be a professor,” said the Spirit. “But enough of that. There is much to see. Touch the hem of my robe.”
Ozpin did as he was told and seized the edge of the Spirit’s red robe. They were conducted away from Ozpin’s room and down into the streets of Vale. The sun was high in the sky and people were bustling about in their finest clothes and highest spirits wishing the day’s best to each other. Some cluttered the streets with joy, singing carols while children threw snowballs at one another in good humor.
The Spirit and Ozpin happened upon a market where although it was busy, the people were courteous to each other like they had never been on any other such day. Ozpin noted that he had never heard the market sound so joyful. Even the jingling of coins and ringing of scales against the countertops sounded all the cheerier.
As Ozpin and the Spirit waded through the people, the Spirit would pause to pinch the flames of his torch and sprinkle a flavor upon the people’s food as they carried it about.
“Is there a particular flavor in what you sprinkle from your torch?” asked Ozpin.
“Oh-ho! There is. My own.”
“Would it apply to any kind of dinner on this day?”
“To any kindly and lovingly given. But to a poor one most.”
“Because it needs it most. Come!” said the Ghost, placing a hand on his shoulder. He led Ozpin down the street to a handsome home wherein they walked straight through the wall into a room brightly lit, gleaming, and warmly furnished. Men stood next to high back chairs where their wives sat, sipping tea, and all faced a man standing at the hearth.
It was a great surprise to Ozpin to hear the man have a familiar laugh. It was a much greater surprise to Ozpin when he recognized the man as his nephew who the Spirit smiled at with approving affability.
“He said that Christmas was a humbug. As I live,” cried Qrow. “He believed it too.”
“Then all the more shame on him,” said Ozpin's niece, Winter, indignantly.
She was very pretty; exceedingly pretty. She had snow white hair tied into a tight bun with a single curled tress dangling next to her left ear. She had blue eyes and a fair complexion with a stately face; she looked as if she had never known any stress or drink in her life. And as she sat on a stool, sipping tea, she sat regally with her back impossibly straight and one long leg crossed over the other. It was actually a shock to Ozpin that his messy, alcoholic nephew could court a woman of such noble bearing. She was more akin an Atlesian soldier than a drunkard’s wife.
“He's a comical fellow,” said Qrow. “That's the truth. And as unpleasant as he is, I have nothing to say against him.”
“At least he is blessed with a miser’s fortune,” replied Winter.
“What of that, my dear? His wealth is of no use to him. He doesn't do any good with it. He doesn't make himself comfortable with it. He hasn't even the satisfaction of thinking that he is ever going to benefit us with it,” chuckled Qrow.
“How is it that you’re able to stand him, Qrow?” asked one of the huntsmen present.
“Truly, I feel sorry for him; he who suffers by his own ill whims. He takes it into his head to dislike us, and he won't come and dine with us. What's the consequence? He didn’t lose much of a lunch.”
“I think he lost a very good lunch,” quipped Winter. Everybody else said the same.
“Well, I'm glad to hear that. But the consequence is much more severe than that. In taking a dislike to us, and not making merry with us, is, I think, a great loss of some pleasant moments, which could do him no harm. I am sure he loses pleasanter companions than he can ever hope to find in his own thoughts, whether in his moldy old office or his dusty chambers.
“He may rail at Christmas till he dies, but he can't think worse of me—I defy him to—if he finds me going to his office, in good temper, year after year, and saying, ‘Uncle Ozpin, how are you?’ And if it only puts him in the vein to leave his poor clerk fifty lien, that's something. And I think I shook him yesterday.”
Ozpin balked. “Surely you jest, nephew. I was neither shaken nor stirred. Humbug.”
But despite his words, Ozpin found himself thinking at least a little bit better of his nephew. He had always been of the mind that his nephew enjoyed bothering him once a year to wish the spirit of the season upon him, or he only did it in duty to the memory of his mother. But if Qrow truly meant what he said, then it was more than Fan’s memory that propelled Qrow, but Fan’s adoring spirit.
“All right, that’s enough,” said Winter, standing. “I refuse to have my Christmas haunted by Uncle Ozpin. So let’s have some music and then some games.”
Following Winter’s directive, they cleared away their tea and proceeded with the music. They were a musical bunch, and sung well the old glees and catches. Winter played the harp and among the many songs she knew, there was one piece that Ozpin remembered from the dances at Ooziwig’s. Those fond memories of Christmases shown to him by the Ghost of Christmas Past further softened his disposition and he found himself wishing all the more he had not surrendered Pyrrha.
But when Winter plucked the last string, Ozpin’s reverie was gone and he returned to the present.
“Where did you venture off?” asked the Spirit heartily.
“I saw it in your eyes. You were far from here. Dwelling amongst other ghosts were you?” said the Ghost, smiling.
“I was just… It doesn’t matter.”
“Oh-ho!” smiled the Ghost. “Well, we have lingered here long enough. Come, there is much to see.”
Ozpin and the Ghost headed for the door when a voice rang out, “Hey-ho, Winter! That was lovely, but I was promised games, and by gods, I’m going to get one.” Many people laughed at the simple demand.
Ozpin stopped. “A game? I wonder which they’ll choose.”
“Very well,” said Winter. “Qrow, why don’t you start us off with a game of Yes and No. He always picks the most delightful subjects.”
“I love Yes and No,” said Ozpin. “I was great at it when I was a young man.” Ozpin turned to the Ghost. “May we stay for one game, Spirit? Only one?”
The Spirit chuckled. “Good to see you in such fine spirits! But, yes, only one. We still have much to see.”
“Very well, my dear,” said Qrow. “Now, for those of you who have been living under Mountain Glenn, the rules of Yes and No are simple. I’ll think of an object, person, or thing, and you have to guess what it is, but I can only answer with either yes or no.”
“Think up a good one, Qrow,” encouraged Winter.
“Will do, my dear.” Qrow looked up to the ceiling and was silent for a moment. Suddenly, he chuckled to himself. “All right, I’ve got one. You may begin.”
Qrow was beset by a brisk fire of questioning from which it was elicited that he was thinking of a live, rather disagreeable animal, which growled and grunted sometimes, lived in Vale, stalked the streets, wasn’t from Menagerie, was never killed in a market, and was never any sort of Grimm.
At every fresh question that was put to him, Qrow had to stop himself from bursting into a fresh roar of laughter. The ones about the Grimm especially tickled him for if Qrow’s animal could be hunted, it would be hunted more passionately than any Beowolf on Remnant.
At last, Winter, who had been silent for a while now, stifled a snicker. “I know what it is, Qrow.”
“Go on, my dear.”
“Well, if it can’t be my own father, then it must be your Uncle Ozpin!”
Qrow burst into laughter. “You’re right!”
 “Excellent choice!” congratulated one huntsman.
“I still think it should’ve been the Beowolf,” said another.
“What can I say,” said Qrow with a shrug. “He has given us plenty of merriment, and I am sure that it would be ungrateful to not drink to his health.” Qrow lifted his flask. “To Uncle Ozpin.”
“Uncle Ozpin,” chimed the rest with their glasses raised.
“A Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to the old man, whatever he is. He wouldn't take it from me, but he may have it, nevertheless. Uncle Ozpin!”
Ozpin had imperceptibly become so light of heart, that he would have pledged the unconscious company in return, and thanked them in an inaudible speech, but the Ghost hadn’t given him time. The whole scene passed off in darkness at the breath of the last word spoken by his nephew.
A new vision came into view of a snow covered cottage in the middle of a wide clearing somewhere out in the middle of the woods.
“Spirit,” said Ozpin. “Where are we?”
“The island of Patch.”
“And what chore brings us?”
“It’s Christmas here too, you know. And there,” said the Spirit, pointing, “is the dwelling of one Taiyang Cratchit, Esquire, whose family owes their good fortune and Christmas joy to the high principles and esteemed charity of his employer, Ebenezer Ozpin.”
Ozpin took a long look at the cottage. It was a fine log cabin, large, well built and sufficiently impressive. “It is quite the handsome home,” said Ozpin. “I didn’t think Taiyang could afford such a home on his salary.”
“Out here on Patch, property values are a tuppence compared to those in Vale.”
“Did you say Patch? This is indeed quite a ways from the city. No wonder Taiyang is perpetually late. But even for Patch, this home is a palace.”
“It might seem that way, but before you get any ideas of cutting your clerk’s salary, perhaps you should look in the window and see things as they really are.”
Ozpin did as was commended. He wiped the frost from one of the windows with his sleeve and looked through it. Inside he saw a home scarcely furnished, dark except for the few windows that let light in, and it was quite dusty. The few pieces of furniture that there were seemed old and rickety as if they could go any minute.
Ozpin wondered at the dinginess of the home when he spotted a woman in a white riding hood bustle around the kitchen counters, preparing a Christmas supper. She peeled potatoes and let them boil in water while she checked on a Christmas fowl in the oven and several saucepans on the stove. For such a diminutive woman, she moved quickly indeed.
“Is that Mrs. Cratchit?” asked Ozpin.
“It is,” replied the Ghost. “That is Tai’s wife, Summer.”
“She has silver eyes…”
“That she does.”
“Such a remarkable woman to take on so great a task by herself.”
“She must be remarkable for she is a huntress.”
Ozpin looked up at the Spirit in awe.
“She’s one of the best on the island.”
“Remarkable. I had heard the legends about silver eyed warriors, but I didn’t think they were true. This must be how Taiyang affords a house like this. His wife supplements his income.”
“Not just his wife.”
Ozpin looked up at him confused again. Suddenly from around the bend in the forest came a girl with long golden locks and violet eyes, pushing a rusty, yellow motorcycle that had seen better days. She pushed the bike into a nearby shed and closed the door before rushing through the door of the cabin.
“Mom! I’m home!”
“It’s about time, Yang,” replied Summer. “I was afraid you’d miss surprising your father.”
“I’m sorry. Bumblebee isn’t what she used to be. Some trips she just can’t make anymore.”
“Well, never mind. It’s almost your father’s time. Hurry up and hide!”
Yang shook the snow and chill from her body before bounding up the stairs to the second story and hiding in a bedroom.
“Who was that young lady?” asked Ozpin.
“That was Tai’s daughter, Yang.”
“I didn’t know Taiyang had a daughter.”
“Not but one.”
Ozpin looked at the Spirit all the more confused. But instead of getting an explanation, the Ghost looked up and away along the path leading to the home. Ozpin looked too and saw Tai approach with a young girl riding up on his shoulder and wearing a red riding hood. The two seemed happy as can be as they marched home through the slowly falling snow.
“I’m so hungry, Dad,” said the girl with a smile.
“Me, too, Ruby. I hope your mother has supper ready as we get through the door.”
“Ruby?” repeated Ozpin.
“Tai’s youngest daughter, Tiny Ruby.”
“Why does he carry her on his shoulder like that?”
As Tai and Ruby made it to the front door, Tai put Ruby on the ground gingerly. He held onto her shoulder as she pulled a giant, red metallic object from underneath her cape. It sprung open into a deadly design that made Ozpin recoil.
“Is that a scythe?!”
“It’s also a gun!” replied the Spirit fondly.
“What is such an adorable little girl doing with such a dangerous weapon?!”
“It’s her crutch.”
Ozpin felt a tiny tinge of pity hit his heart when he saw the young girl hobble through the front door followed by her father.
“Mom! We’re back!”
“It’s about time you two,” said Summer. “Supper’s almost ready.”
Tai closed the door and looked around. “Where’s Yang?”
Summer’s face fell. “She’s not coming.”
“Not coming!?” repeated Tai.
“What do you mean?” wailed Ruby. “It’s Christmas!”
Suddenly there was a creek from the upstairs bedroom followed by a heavy footstep. Tai looked up and with a smile stretched from ear to ear, he threw a punch up at the air and it collided with a yellow metallic gauntlet. The two fists pushed off each other to the side, forcing Yang to one side and Tai to the other.
“Yang!” said Tai as she rebounded off the floor.
“Merry Christmas, Dad,” she said, giving him a jolly hug.
“Yang!” cheered Ruby.
“Ruby!” said Yang. “Oh, how I’ve missed my baby sister!” she exclaimed, embracing Ruby in a grisly hug before lifting the young girl up oton her shoulders and gallivanting around the house.
Summer sidled up to her husband. “And how was little Ruby in church?”
“As good as gold and better. Somehow she gets so thoughtful, sitting by herself so much, and thinks the strangest things you ever heard. She told me, coming home, that she hoped the people saw her in church because she was a cripple, and it might be pleasant for them to remember upon Christmas Day those who fight to keep the kingdom safe and the sacrifices they’re forced to make.”
Tai's voice was tremulous when he told Summer this, and trembled all the more when he said that Tiny Ruby was growing stronger and heartier every day.
“Spirit,” said Ozpin, “I am much confused by what I see.”
“Ask your question then and I shall answer.”
“You implied that Taiyang’s income isn’t just supplemented by his wife’s. Tell me truly, is his oldest daughter also a huntress? Is that why she bears those shot-gauntlets?”
“Aye, indeed,” replied the Spirit. “She has as much brawn as she does beauty,” said the Spirit with a smile and a strange humor.
Suddenly, inside the cabin, Yang stopped laughing and smiling, and shivered.
Ruby looked down at her sister. “Yang? Is something the matter?”
“I just felt as if some lecherous gaze from an otherworldly place fell upon me and admired my figure in an ungentlemanly way.”
Ruby cocked her head to one side. “What?”
Ozpin looked at the Ghost who cleared his throat and looked the other way.
“One more thing, Spirit,” said Ozpin. “I can believe that Mrs. Cratchit and Tiny Ruby are related—the resemblance between them is uncanny, right down to their hair and clothes—but what of the oldest daughter? She takes much after Taiyang but is neither like her mother nor sister.”
“Tai once had a wife before Summer. She was Yang’s mother.”
“What happened to her?”
“No one quite knows. She simply vanished one day and has never been seen or heard from since.”
The mysterious disappearance of Tai’s first wife disconcerted Ozpin greatly. How terrible it must have been for Tai to not know what could have happened to his first love. But Tai’s great loss reminded Ozpin of his own and he began to feel a kinship with his clerk he had never felt before.
“All right, you two,” said Summer to Ruby and Yang. “Sit down. Time for supper.”
Yang listened to her mother and set Ruby down on her chair and sat down next to her. Tai sat at the head of the table as Summer served the Christmas goose, boiled potatoes, and apple sauce.
“Such a scant dinner,” commented Ozpin. “Especially for a family of warriors.”
“But very much appreciated,” replied the Ghost. “It would be heresy to say otherwise.”
The last thing Summer served was the roiling punch. Once everyone had their glass, Tai lifted his and toasted, “Mr. Ozpin. I give you Mr. Ozpin, the Founder of the Feast.”
Both Summer and Yang’s faces reddened, putting their glasses down.
“What do you mean by that?” asked Summer.
“Yeah, Dad,” agreed Yang. “Are you trying to ruin our Christmas?”
Tai was shocked into silence.
“The Founder of the Feast, indeed,” said Summer. “I wish I had him here. I'd give him a piece of my mind to feast upon, and I hope he'd have a good appetite for it.”
“Summer, Yang,” Tai pleaded. “It’s Christmas Day.”
“It has to be Christmas Day,” continued Summer, “on which one drinks to the health of such an odious, stingy, hard, and unfeeling man as Mr. Ozpin.”
“Well, now—”
 “Yeah, Dad,” interrupted Yang. “You know he is. Nobody knows it better than you. How long have you been working for him and he hasn’t given you a raise yet, forcing Mom to risk her life and slay Grimm? Cruelly forcing me to take all the hunting jobs I can in Vale so far from home? And what about Ruby? Will there come a day when she’ll have to help support this family, too?”
“But I want to help, Yang,” replied Tiny Ruby.
“I know you do, sis. But you shouldn’t be forced to.”
“Now, now,” said Tai. “I know Mr. Ozpin can be a little hard, but for the sake of Christmas, we should be thankful for all we have and for those who grant us the privilege of buying what we need.” Tai raised his glass, waiting for his wife and daughter to do the same.
Summer sighed before lifting hers. “I'll drink to his health for your sake and the day's, but not for his. Long life to him. A very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.”
“I’m sure he’ll be very merry and very happy,” mumbled Yang out of the corner of her mouth.
Tai’s eye twinkled. “That being the case, Merry Christmas, my dears. And gods bless us!”
“Gods bless us. Every one!” said Ruby with an innocent smile.
“Such a remarkable child,” said Ozpin. The child too had silver eyes which Ozpin knew would destine her to the life of a warrior. But how could she fight in her condition? “Spirit,” said Ozpin, with an interest he had never felt before. “Tell me: is Tiny Ruby sick?”
“Oh-ho! What’s this? Concern for the well-being of another?”
Ozpin’s bottom lip trembled. “Will she die?”
The Spirit looked up and his eyes lost focus. “I see a vacant seat in the poor chimney corner, and a scythe without an owner, carefully preserved. If these shadows remain unaltered, none other of my race will find her here.”
Ozpin rubbed his hands together nervously.
 “But so what, then? If she’s going to die, she had better do it, and decrease the surplus population.”
Ozpin recoiled in shock to hear his own words quoted against him. He was overcome with penitence and grief. A single tear tracked down his face.
“Man,” said the Ghost, looming large over Ozpin, “if human you be in heart, forbear that wicked cant until you have discovered who the surplus is and where it is. Will you be the judge of who shall live and who shall die when it may be, that in the sight of Heaven, you are more worthless and less fit to live than millions like this poor man's child?”
Ozpin bent before the Ghost's rebuke and trembling, cast his eyes upon the ground.
“Come,” said the Ghost, again placing a hand on his shoulder. “There are more shadows to see.”
The island of Patch drifted away into the darkness and was replaced by the burning of a bonfire far from any civilized place on Remnant. Around it were four huntsmen, sitting on logs and cradling their weapons. The Ghost plucked another flame from his torch and sprinkled it on the nearest huntsman. Finding a new spirit, he pulled out a flute and began playing a Christmas carol. It took several bars, but soon his fellows began singing along with his tune. Ozpin became aware of dozens of red eyes glaring at the four huntsmen. Their low growls could be heard just over the flute, but as the men sang, their spirits gained strength. Filled with the season’s tidings, they all rose and likewise lifted their voices up to the night sky to give thanks and praise on this Christmas night.
As their song drifted over the country side, Ozpin saw many similar gatherings, from Anima to Menagerie, from Vale to Atlas. There were many bonfires, many huntsmen far from home who had naught but each other for company. Though peril surrounded them, they became cheerful as the Spirit visited them. Even when their songs had ended, their joy was still present, forcing the Grimm to retreat as if they were afraid to contract some disease.
Ozpin recognized many of the huntsmen as being those in his employ, and he was surprised to find them capable of indulging in the spirit of the season. They were struggling, desperate men, but they were patient for their greater hope, and in it, in misery’s great refuge, they found themselves very rich indeed.
The night was long, as if it could only be one night. Ozpin doubted it could be as the holiday appeared to be condensed into the time he passed with the Ghost. It was strange to him as well that while Ozpin remained unaltered in his outward form, the Ghost grew older. Ozpin did not comment until they found themselves in a churchyard.
“Are spirits’ lives so short?” asked Ozpin.
“Oh-ho! My life upon this globe is very brief. It ends tonight at the stroke of midnight.”
Ozpin looked up at the church as the great bell began tolling. “Must you go? I’ve learned so much.”
“There is never enough time in the world to do all that we should. All we can do is do what good we can with the time we are allotted.”
Ozpin sought for something to say, something to keep the Ghost rooted to the world, but as he looked at the ground, something caught his eye. “Forgive me if I am not justified in what I ask,” said Ozpin, looking intently at the Spirit’s robe. “But I see something strange, not belonging to yourself, protruding from your robe. Is it a foot… or a claw?”
“It might be a claw for all the flesh there is upon it,” said the Spirit. “Behold!”
The Spirit opened his robes and there within its folding were two children; wretched, abject, frightened, and miserable. They knelt down at the Spirit’s feet, clinging to his robes.
The children were a boy and a girl. The boy was in green with dark hair and looked descended from Anima, but the girl looked descended from Vale with faded orange hair, bearing pink tatters. But despite their differing clothing, they were both yellow, meager, ragged, and wolfish. Where graceful youth should have filled their features out and touched them with fresh tints, a stale and shriveled hand, like that of age, had pinched and twisted them and pulled them into shreds. Where angels might have sat enthroned, devils lurked, and glared out menacingly. No change, no degradation, no perversion of humanity, in any grade, through all the mysteries of wonderful creation, has ever spawned monsters half so horrible and dread.
Ozpin stared at them, appalled. “Spirit. Are they yours?”
“They are Man's,” said the Spirit, looking down upon them. “And they cling to me, appealing from their fathers. The boy is Ignorance. The girl is Want. Beware them both, and all of their degree, but most of all beware this boy for written on his brow I see Doom.
“Deny it!” cried the Spirit, looking to the city of Vale. “Slander those who tell you; admit it for your factious purposes, and you will bear witness to your just punishment.”
“Have they no refuge or resource?” cried Ozpin.
“Are there no prisons?” said the Spirit, turning on him for the last time with his own words. “Are there no workhouses?”
Ozpin felt a chill shoot down his spine, but before he could compose a response, the bell stroke twelve and suddenly, Ozpin could no longer see the Ghost or the wretched children he bore.
He turned about in the churchyard and recalled Ironwood’s last prediction that the third spectre would appear in her own time. “Her own time.” Those three words spooked Ozpin worse than any he had heard that night for he knew not their meaning. But as he ruminated upon them, a circular red and black energy appeared before him and out stepped the dread phantom.


Keep writing, my friends.

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Friday, March 30, 2018

What Color Best Represents INTJs?

Hey, everyone.

So I ended up keeping my word this time, and I'm going to write about the perfect color to represent INTJs. Now, I'm not going to get complicated about this and say something like mauve or maroon, and instead I'm going to focus on the basic Roy G. Biv scale plus white and black. And like I said, this is mostly for fun as well as a way to enlighten others to the characteristics of INTJs through a playful concept. Don't be offended if you're an INTJ and I don't mention your favorite color.

Before we get into this color aspect of INTJs though, I want to remind you all of my Patreon. If you enjoy my content and you'd like to support my blog, maybe "buy a stake" and give me money to grow, I would definitely appreciate it. For $1 a month, you get access to my news feed and the ability to give input on what blog topics I write about, whereas for $5 a month, you'll get teasers for my new books and recognition on my blog as a patron. And there are plenty of more goodies the more you donate. Go to my Patreon to find out what those are.

Wonderful Colors

Alright, then. So in examining the qualities of INTJs, I came to the conclusion that there are four colors that can be used to represent INTJs. They are blue, red, violet, and black. Well, black's not technically a color--it's a shade, but you get the idea. So let's start this off from the top.


Calm, cool, and calculating are all words you can use to describe INTJs. They are rational and slow to anger, although they'd love to smack an idiot some days. And they can be as deep and as mysterious and as the depths of the sea. What wonders lurk within the fathoms of their minds are mind-blowing discoveries still waiting to be found. Just beware as those wonders can be as weird and as eldritch as some of the creatures of the deepening abyss.

For these reasons, as well as a strong masculine quality, blue is a great color to represent INTJs.

However, might this understanding of INTJs be a little too basic and perhaps stereotypical? For instance, blue doesn't say anything of their strong passion.


Despite their cooler outer exterior, a strong passion runs through the veins of an INTJ. It can be difficult to access for the cooler shield blocking the way, but a fire certainly rages inside. In the right company, an INTJ is strongly opinionated and wastes no time or effort in expressing said opinion. And for those things and people they genuinely care about, their love and passion can be quite strong, sometimes unrelenting. For such a cool and brooding people, INTJs can be the most idealistic when it comes to love and loyalty.

For these reasons, it makes sense for INTJs to gravitate toward red.

But supposing you're an INTJ who pays equal respect to both red and blue, and you want to emphasize the power of your intellect?


Thankfully, red and blue mix into violet (purple). It's the best of both worlds as it balances out the stability of blue with the energy of red. Add to that, if you've ever studied the properties of crystals, amethyst may have a property that an INTJ might value. According to on their page "Amethyst: Meaning, Properties and Powers," amethyst is said to improve "intellectual and cerebral thought." Besides all this, violet is also a royal color befitting the INTJ sense of self-importance.

So, for one looking to balance out red and blue, emphasize his intellect and represent his nobility, violet is the color to go with.

But might there be a simpler answer to this question of what color best represents INTJs?


You basic black. It goes with everything and has a slimming effect, not that that's of any importance to an INTJ. No. What interests an INTJ about black is that it's classic, severe, powerful, intimidating, and somewhat understated. Black is thought to be the "color" of all colors because all colored light is swallowed up by it. This is the reason why priests wear black because it dominates all other colors just like how the one, true God dominates all pagan gods and forces. And because all colors go into black, it can be argued that black has the best qualities of all colors making black the jack-of-all-trades in the color world. Perfect fit for INTJs who are the jack-of-all-trades in the people world. Not to mention, black is just cool.

Other Colors

Now, is it possible that there are other colors out there that might represent INTJs also? Well, I did think of silver and gold. Both colors are rich, important, and wealthy. And depending on whether or not an INTJ wants to be subdued or noticeable, he can choose either to suit his purposes.

But there are colors that I just don't see being for INTJs like orange, yellow, brown, or green. Yellow is far too bright and optimistic, orange is similarly too bright and sticks out. Brown just looks like mud, or something worse. Green however is an earth tone that suggests growth and nature. INTJs aren't really associated with either quality preferring things to be static and sterile in their lives. Well, except for their ENFP girlfriends, but...

The only other color that may be befitting of INTJs is white. White can become any color also making it a jack-of-all-trades, and it is just as classic as black. It's also more the absence of color which might fit INTJs since I can't imagine anyone calling us colorful people. Unless they're talking about our language. We might be one of the few kinds of people in the world that can actually curse a blue streak.


But beyond that, I'm afraid that blue, red, violet, and black are the best options for INTJs. I personally quite like red because it is the color of passion, but I do like it to be surrounded by black to give it that ominous feel. Heck, my phone case is red'n'black, my mouse is red'n'black, and my mouse pad is red'n'black. And don't even get me started on my clothes!

But anyway, that's it for now. I hope you enjoyed this fun little post and maybe learned something about INTJs. For next week, I'm not sure what I'll do. There are a couple of topics I want to write about, and there is a response post or two I can put out. Because Easter is this Sunday and I might be distracted by the holiday, I'll probably keep it simple and do a response post for next week. Will I be able to put out a second post? I'm not sure yet. We'll see. But until then...

Keep writing, my friends.

More About Bryan C. Laesch:

Amazon: My Author Page
Facebook: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar
Patreon: Bryan C. Laesch
Twitter: BryanofallTrade
Youtube: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar

Wednesday, March 28, 2018

The INTJ Mentality Regarding Sports

Hey, everyone.

I know I mentioned writing a rant about INTJs and friends/-ships, but like I said in last week's post on socio- and psychopaths, I can't remember for the life of me what the point to that rant was supposed to be. So instead I'm going to write a piece on sports and INTJs. What INTJs think about sports, if we do sports, if we're any good at them, and if we do sports, why do we do them?

But before we get into that, I want to remind you all of my Patreon. If you enjoy my content, I would like to ask that you consider becoming my patron. $1 a month would certainly help by leaps and bounds whereas $5 could work miracles. That's only .17 cents a day.

Now then...

I realize that this topic of INTJs and sports does come somewhat out of left field. Why in the hell would I want to write it? I'm not responding to someone else's post. Well, let me tell you a story.

A Story...

A couple of weeks ago, my friend John had his Dirty 30 birthday party at a bowling alley in St. Clair Shores. I've been bowling before. I'm not great, but I'm no stranger to strikes and spares. During my Vector Marketing/Cutco days, some of my fondest memories were going bowling late at night with some of my co-workers after a "phone jam" or weekly meeting. So, going to my friend's bowling party, I've got something to prove to myself and to the others in attendance, that being that Bryan C. Laesch can bowl.

I got my butt beat pretty bad in the first game, and I was not happy. I scored under 100. One of the guys bowling with us, the spouse of the sister of a guy I went to high school with, apparently does a lot of bowling. He had two balls, two gloves, his own shoes, and a bag for all his goodies. I had researched some bowling tips before I went and I had made a flippant comment after a strike that it was better to look at the floor (the arrows) than it was to look at the pins. Well, said guy gave me some free advice for the second game. He told me I was absolutely right and that I should line up my right shoulder with the arrows and then finally with the pins. He also said I had the best form of anybody there except for himself, which felt pretty good. But anyway, I took his advice, and the strikes and spares started to pile up. That second game I did something like 115 or 119. That was a great feeling.

The rest of the night wasn't anything too special. We tried to let some of the other party-goers take a turn, but they weren't interested so it was just me and the guy I went to high school with for the third-and-a-half games we played after that, except this time, I was bowling for two people and my personal score did suffer for it. But there were plenty of strikes and spares to go around. And man was I sore the next day! I felt it mostly in my legs.

So, that's why I decided to write this post on INTJs and sports--to explore the INTJ mentality regarding sports. Let's get into the meat of this topic.

What Do INTJs Think of Sports?

We don't typically think of INTJs as being sporty people. MBTI in general doesn't give real insight into the sporty or athletic aptitudes of the types, but INTJs are typically looked at like the Dr. Frankensteins of the world: we keep to ourselves, in our studies or our laboratories, and study the mysteries and complexities of the universe, sometimes committing heinous acts against nature in the process.

This really doesn't say "football scholarship" or "all-star material."

Despite that though, INTJs do have a reputation for being jacks-of-all-trades. Hell, I used that same philosophy when I came up with my twitter account name: BryanofallTrade. But we tend to throw around that term without ever really thinking about what it means. It basically means that INTJs can do everything. Not necessarily well or that we're the best, but we can do anything and know a little bit about everything. You'd be surprised what I know about women's attire. Especially lingerie.

But this jack-of-all-trades attitude extends into the wide world of sports. While I by no stretch of the imagination consider myself sporty or athletic, I've always felt that I have a working knowledge of and ability with most sports. I played baseball for two years when I was kid (I wasn't any good), I always did well in gym, I had three years of karate, my grandfather took me to a driving range a lot, I played HS soccer Freshman year (I wasn't any good), some of my fondest memories involve playing backyard basketball by myself, and I've recently taken quite the shine to archery and sport whip cracking. Plus, and I know these aren't technically sports, but I'm not half bad at pool, I've been weight lifting to get into better shape, I rollerblade, when I lose more weight I'm going to ride my bike more, and I'm self taught at HEMA.

I'm not that good.

So I'm not physically challenged. But getting back to the question at hand, what do INTJs in general think of sports? Well, we're not against sports. We have a sort of laissez-faire attitude about sports. Sports doesn't bother us, and we don't bother sports. But generally speaking, we're not big into sports. The reason for this is because most sports are team activities. Football, baseball, soccer, basketball, lacrosse, kickball, volleyball, hockey, ultimate frisbee--while these activities are fun to indulge in by yourself, the real fun to be had in them is with teams. And being INTJs, the obvious problem here should be obvious.

This team aspect is likely the single biggest reason as to why most INTJs are not into (most) sports. We don't have a lot of friends to begin with, and we're not the sort to invite ourselves or even accept an invitation to a pick-up game. Other reasons would include price, such as with leagues, equipment, and the like, (personal) time, and the fact that we don't like watching sports. Well, I don't as anytime I watch sports, I just end up wanting to play myself, so that doesn't do me any good.

Are INTJs Any Good at Sports?

Well, I've already answered this above by admitting that we're jack-of-all-trades. But how is it that we are decently good at sports if we don't actively pursue them? Well, INTJs may not be the physical sort, but we are well-aware of everything around us, including our own bodies. We know how they move and how to move them in order to get the result we want. And due to our studious nature and photographic memories, we can watch a player demonstrate proper form once and duplicate it almost perfectly. We also absorb theory like a sponge, and in a bid to do well or better at something, we will of course explore the theory behind a technique and see if we get favorable results. So, in theory, INTJs are at least decently good at most sports.

Why Do INTJs Do Sports?

But the real question is why do INTJs do sports? There are many acceptable reasons why someone may indulge in athletics: fun and diversion, to hang with friends, to excel at a skill, get a scholarship, be rich, and/or just because they like the activity. Many of these reasons are shared by INTJs--we're not that different from everyone else. We do put on our pants like everyone else does--both legs at the same time by jumping into them as they are suspended from the ceiling. But there is one other reason why people, and INTJs included, may do sports. Perhaps you picked up on it from my story above: to prove something to ourselves and others.

I personally don't consider myself a competitive person. In fact, I try not to be competitive, but let's face it, we all want to be winners and most of us are envious of them. I try to shrug off the envy because I know I'm likely to get stomped and I don't want to deal with that disappointment, so that's why I don't bother in the first place. But if your sh*t performance is out in the open for all to see, you may as well try your damnedest and prove to yourself that you have some ability.

I don't find anything wrong with this self competition, or even the subtle and farther reaching competition with everyone else. But there are some people, like my friend Jessica, who don't seem to understand it. 'Course though, she is athletic. She runs all the time. That includes 5K's, so perhaps she doesn't need to prove anything to herself as she already has. The other side of it is that it could just be natural male competitiveness. You know, the stone age principle of the strongest, fastest, smartest competitor getting to sleep with the most bang-able women without any need for a real personality. But, would INTJs allow themselves to be so base as to be influenced by a Paleolithic urge? ...Probably. It might be old as hell, but it is an essential piece of evolution.

However, might there be something else at work here? Something specifically related to INTJs? At first glance, I did suspect that it was our inferior function, Extraverted Sensing (Se), at work. After all, in my response to "The Top 7 Gift Ideas for INTJs" one of the gift ideas was stuff like wine, coffee, and chocolate as a means to please or indulge an INTJ's Se. So, I thought that that they may be a possibility, but there is a problem with that theory: sports are not just about the tactile aspect. There is a lot of strategy and theory that goes into athletics, not to mention the validation and self-worth that come from a well-played game.

So I decided to look at the INTJ function stack (Ni, Te, Fi, Se) to see if anything came to mind and I did indeed have a brain wave. I wondered if the reason why INTJs indulge in sports has anything to do with the possibility of discovering something new (Ni), coupled with the theory of how to do well (Te), along with the desire to feel good about ourselves (Fi), hitched up to the physical experience of actually having proof that we're skilled (Se). Looking from this perspective, sports become a functional stack orgy, for lack of a better term. Or, in more eloquent words, sports allows an INTJ to use all of his functions, and an INTJ wants to use all of his functions to their fullest potential, hence resulting in his intense self-competition. Of course though, that's just a theory.

A Game Theory!
Wait! No--it's an INTJ theory.

In the end, the INTJ mentality toward sports is mostly ambivalent. We aren't really for it, and we aren't really against it. Given the right motivation, we could come up with plenty of arguments both for and against the practice of sports. But there's no denying that INTJs do possess some elementary skill at athletics, and with training, we could become quite competent. And really, who doesn't like making the basket swish, seeing the ball fly over the stands, seeing the arrow hit the bull's eye, or knocking down all the pins with one throw, and knowing that you personally are responsible for making that happen?

Alright, you guys, that's it for now. I'm sorry I didn't do a second article for last week. Sh*t happens, like laziness. Although, if I had some patrons, I might be more willing to stay on the ball. Hint, hint...

But anyway, this week is a little different from most weeks. We are currently in Holy Week which means, among other things, that because Holy Thursday to the Holy Saturday Vigil Mass is a time of great solemnity and sacrifice, I will be giving up video games and frivolous videos on YouTube in honor of JC's crucifixion. Which means I'll be focusing on my writing to fill up my time. So, hopefully I will have a second INTJ article out this week. It won't be a serious article, rather something I'll write for fun, but it'll be about the perfect color to describe the INTJ personality. That should be enlightening. But until then...

Keep writing, my friends.

More About Bryan C. Laesch:

Amazon: My Author Page
Facebook: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar
Patreon: Bryan C. Laesch
Twitter: BryanofallTrade
Youtube: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar

Wednesday, March 21, 2018

Are INTJs Psychopaths?

Hey, everyone.

So, in my attempt to further lend a sneaping wisdom to what an INTJ is and what we're about, I'm tackling a new stereotype regarding our legend, that being that we're sociopaths or psychopaths. Now, I have looked up an article on either subject, specifically the signs of each, and I'm going to go through them and talk about whether or not INTJs have them or why people might think we have them.

I should however mention that sociopathy and psychopathy are not clearly defined. They do share some traits, and the DSM even eschews either preferring the blanket diagnosis of "antisocial personality disorder." So I'm going to invest some time into taking an online test to see if I have it.

But before we get into this, let me remind you all that if you enjoy my content, you can support me through Patreon. $1 a month will do wonders for my blog, maybe even pump me up to an official platform like WordPress, but for $5 I could invest in Squarespace. That's just .17 cents a day.

Now, then...

“If, instead, you find yourself often pitying someone who consistently hurts you or ... the chances are close to 100 percent that you are dealing with a sociopath.”
Martha Stout, The Sociopath Next Door 

So what makes a sociopath a sociopath? Well, I did find an article on Psychology Today that listed 16 whole traits. Unfortunately, they admitted to the fact that sociopath and psychopath are quite similar to each other and mixed the traits together. Plus, some of the traits confused me as they were listed as "trait A or trait B" where A and B seemed to contradict one another. I've posted the link to Psychology Today so you can see it for yourself, but for a more concise list, I'm going to look at Unified Soul Theory's article of "7 Warning Signs of a Sociopath." Let's see if INTJs are really sociopaths.

1. Lots of "Friends"

Right off the bat, something's wrong. INTJs don't have lots of any kind of friends, quotations or not. Now, Facebook might tell a different story, but we're all pretty aware of the empty commitment of most of the people on our Facebook friends list. So barring Facebook friends, I stand by my statement that INTJs don't have lots of friends. We don't even seem to have lots of friends. Sometimes our real friends don't even seem like real friends to outsiders. So there's very little chance of us having a major list of phony friends since we're likely to treat any one who tries to be our friend but isn't with great disdain and distance. So, this isn't a trait we have.

2. Manipulative

Hmm, this one is sort of tough. While I think it's possible that an underdeveloped or even immature INTJ might be manipulative, most INTJs are not so. We might seem like it though. We are quite passionate about the things we want, and not wanting to muck about with the work that goes into networking or risk giving someone the wrong idea that we care about them, we could come off as manipulative, but most socially woke INTJs won't have this trait.

3. Narcissistic

Is it narcissistic to believe you're better than everyone else? Well... yes.

But, those of you who have been around for a while will remember that I wrote an article about whether or not INTJs are narcissists. I'm not going to go into that article in detail, you can read it for yourself, but while I did have some of the signs of a narcissist, true, clinical narcissism, I actually scored lower than the average range on. We may think ourselves superior, but not so superior that we think our sh*t doesn't stink.

4. Emotional Detachment

Many would argue that INTJs are emotionally detached. This is kind of true, depending on the circumstances and the individual INTJ, but for most of us, we're not emotionally detached so much as we are emotionally guarded. We put up a front of detachment so as to prevent ourselves from being hurt or manipulated. It is also possible for an INTJ to be personally upset, but to carry on professionally as if nothing happened--we don't cry in public. And we do have a sense of empathy and sympathy, but it is tempered by a rather strong sense of logic. So we only seem detached.

Ever heard the phrase, "if it bleeds, we can kill it?"
Well, if it feels, it can probably cry.

5. Compulsive Lying

INTJs don't lie. We may not always tell the whole truth, but we never lie. And even if we do, it's not compulsive, it's highly pre-meditated and well thought out, well ahead of time. Not to mention, compulsive liars get caught all the time. When an INTJ lies, we do it like we're telling the truth, which is to say, we never get caught.

6. Reckless Attitude

Reckless? Psh! INTJs don't do anything reckless. Even when we do something reckless, we thought about it first. We pre-meditate our recklessness. Plus, this trait is "reckless attitude"--an INTJ's attitude could not be defined as reckless by any stretch of the imagination. We're the most careful and calculating bunch of mofos you'll ever see.

7. Quick to Anger

I used to be quite quick to anger. I think I may have been a rage-aholic. Either that or I just liked being angry. It felt good. I felt powerful. I felt validated, like I was right and everyone else was wrong. Looking back though, I think that might be an oversimplification. I don't know if I was ever really angry. Could've just been angst.

However, looking at now and INTJs in general, it's generally agreed upon that INTJs have a long fuse, not a short one. We're actually incredibly patient despite the fact that we don't like people and we're easily annoyed. But annoyance and dislike of people isn't anger. Anger is a very specific emotion, and it's one that we don't feel that often. Even if something upsets us, due to our emotional guards, we're not likely to be angry so much as we are just upset which is more of a feeling of sadness and regret. So, we're not angry, and we're not quick to it.


Looking back over this list, it's immediately apparent, that INTJs are not sociopaths. We can be mistaken for sociopaths in the shallowest respects, but dig a little deeper, and INTJs are not sociopaths in any regard. But what about psychopaths?

"I'm a psychopath, but I don't have a problem with that."
--James Marsters

So to tell whether or not I'm a psychopath, I actually have a little test here from Healthy Place. They put out an article called "20 Signs You're With a Psychopath or You Are a Psychopath." The test is twenty questions/scenarios and you score yourself on a scale of 0 to 2. 0 is you don't have that trait or you don't do that thing, 1 is you do it sometimes, and 2 is you do it all the time. You then total up your score and take it out of 40. If you score higher than 30, I've got some bad news for you.

For my test, not only will I give my score, but I'll give a non-INTJ perspective score, and I'll explain why it seems like INTJs have certain behaviors on this list.

1. Do you shrug off important subjects with glibness? Do you exhibit superficial charm?

No INTJ ever shrugs off anything important. Hell, INTJs aren't likely to know what glibness is unless we're using it to criticize our beloved ENFPs with. And the only time I ever exhibit superficial charm is when I'm on stage because I know have to be charming and entertaining, so I don't think that counts, especially if I end up being charming and entertaining.



2. Are you self-centered with an inflated sense of self?

This one I've already encountered and dealt with above. But a non-INTJ might have a different perspective on the matter.

INTJ: 0-1

N/INTJ: 1-2

3. Do you need stimulation constantly or from more extreme experiences?

Psh! INTJs don't need stimulation at all. Everything is up in our brains. We're one of the few people that can sit quietly, do nothing, and be thoroughly entertained. As for "more extreme experiences," well, we're certainly not thrill seekers if that's what you mean.



4. Do you lie to your partner or others?

Already dealt with above.



5. Do you con or manipulate your partner or others?

Already dealt with above. Well, from the INTJ perspective anyway. I have no idea what an non-INTJ would say here. But, I'm going to bet that people think we're psychopaths because of our emotional detachment and not because we have a reputation for manipulation. Which we don't.



6. Do you show a lack of guilt and/or remorse when you hurt someone?

Actually, INTJs can show quite a bit of guilt and remorse for hurting someone. It bothers us years and years after the fact. Especially if the person was/is important to us. No apology can ever express how sorry we are. However, there are some times when we can be cold and don't give a f*ck. But in those cases, we're not trying to hurt someone, we're just being who we are. So, I don't know how to score that, but I'll score heavily on this just to be on the safe side.



7. Do you appear to have only shallow feelings or feel things superficially?

INTJs either feel something or they don't. There really isn't an in-between here. There have been times in the past when I've tried to hype myself up by trying to feel things like other people felt them, but I couldn't pull it off, so I don't know how to score that. As for non-INTJs, most probably think we don't have any feelings, so I think this is goose eggs all around.



8. Do you have trouble empathizing with the pain of others? Are you callous towards others?

Isn't this the same sh*t as in #6? I guess there is a small difference in that this is empathy and not guilt or remorse. In which case, I have dealt with this above in my sociopath examination.

INTJ: 0-1

N/INTJ: 1-2

9. Are you in relationships where you use others (i.e. parasitic relationships)?

No. And again, I don't think non-INTJs think we have this quality either.



10. Do you have poor control over your behavior?

F*ck no! If anything, we're too controlled.



11. Do you display promiscuous sexual behavior?

Well, this is really something that relates to an individual and not to the whole personality. Although, in Heidi Priebe's article about the sexuality of the types, 50% of INTJs said they didn't care for the hook-up culture, and another 48% said they were on the fence about it. So INTJs aren't very likely to be promiscuous. And, I'll go a step further and say that INTJs are very unlikely to ever display promiscuity out in public.



12. Did you have behavioral problems early in childhood?

I'm not entirely sure what they mean by "behavioral problems." Do they mean misbehaving, or something more serious? I don't know, so I'm going to score high, just to be on the safe side.



13. Do you have a hard time making realistic, long-term goals?

Psh! INTJs always plan from the perspective of eternity. Plus, we really don't like change. After all, what do you think that J at the end of your type is doing there? Holding down the T?



14. Are you impulsive?

Again, already dealt with. Even when being impulsive, we've actually thought it out.



15. Are you irresponsible?




16. Do you refuse to accept responsibly?

Isn't this the same thing as #15? But unlike numbers 6 and 8, I can't split any hairs here.



17. Have you had many marital or significant relationships?

Hmm... I know I haven't. And generally, I would think that most INTJs haven't either. Again, Judging types.



18. Were you a juvenile delinquent?

Nope. And it would be really difficult for most people to see the average INTJ as being a juvenile delinquent. I stress average because most villains in movies are INTJs, but they're far from being the average, healthy, or mature INTJ.



19. Have you ever been on parole and had that parole revoked?

No. And again, the average INTJ wouldn't have parole revoked either. He would take that sh*t seriously.



20. Are you a criminal in many areas (a versatile criminal)?

Again, speaking averages here, no.




INTJ: 2-4

N/INTJ: 5-7

So, looking at these total scores right here, it's quite obvious that INTJs are not psychopaths. Not even a little bit. Remember, this score is out of 40 and requires as least 30 to be considered a psychopath.

And I'm not even going to beat around the bush here, I'm just going to give you guys the results from my antisocial personality disorder test. (Take it here.)

Screencap'd straight from the site.

I'll be honest, that was a bit of surprise. I didn't think I would get anything from this test. But I do have some problems with some of the questions. One of them was "No one knows how dangerous I truly am" and I agreed with it because no one actually knows how dangerous I can be. Hell, I don't know how dangerous I could potentially be until I try. And just between us girls and the AC-130, I think if I tried my hardest, I could be really dangerous. But I think that's true of most people.
Another one I took issue with was "I want to become a millionaire as quickly as possible and I'll do so by any means." Number one, who the f*ck doesn't want to be a millionaire as quickly/soon as possible. That's f*cking stupid to ask. Number two, if I "strongly disagree" with the second part of the statement, does that mean I "disagree" with the whole statement or that I "strongly disagree?" I had no idea how to score myself on that.

Anyway, it doesn't matter since I'm over 25. Plus, while I have some of the symptoms of antisocial personality disorder, I also only have some of the traits of sociopaths, psychopaths, and narcissists, but everyone has some of these traits. So then, that begs a question: how do INTJs get saddled with these labels?

I think the fundamental problem is that people don't know what a psychopath or sociopath truly is. People only know about the lack of emotion and assume that's all there is. They also probably only see the lack of remorse or guilt on the outside of an INTJ and assume it isn't there. What with being introverts and all, we're not likely to show such things, and since people can only judge what they experience (see), they make mistakes in their judgment.

The other thing I should point out is that personality and behavioral disorders affect a person, not a personality type. It is completely possible to be an ENFP, INFP, ESFP, or ISFJ and still suffer from a disorder. In fact, if you suffer from one of the disorders above, it's possible your MBTI result can be thrown off since who you inherently are is "damaged" or off.

Ergo, I have no other choice but to conclude that INTJs are not psychopaths or sociopaths. They might suffer from antisocial personality disorder, but I think it quite unlikely.

Alright, you guys. That will do it for now. I'm not sure what I'm going to write for next time, but I feel a little rant-y. Of course though, this will be an INTJ rant so it will be well thought out and orderly. And I think the topic I'll be covering is friends and friendships. If I don't do that, then I'll write a post about INTJs and their relationship with sports.

Another thing I wanted to mention is that I'm finally getting serious about that t-shirt idea I had. But bloody hell! There is a lot more to this than I expected. If everything goes smoothly, I hope to have my first designs ready to launch by April. So, be on the look out for that. And, until next week...

Keep writing, my friends.

More About Bryan C. Laesch:

Amazon: My Author Page
Facebook: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar
Patreon: Bryan C. Laesch
Twitter: BryanofallTrade
Youtube: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar

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