Mystery Fiction and Extremist Behavior

I have a confession to make. I put on an air of knowing about the human mind and love to pontificate about it, but in reality, I don't know Jack shit about it. The more I live, the more I realize I am naive and ignorant of the human heart as well. That's why I am trying to remedy this deficiency of mine by reading mystery fiction.

I used to hold mystery fiction in low esteem, thinking it is not real literature except for a few isolated cases like those stories by Poe. Now I like it a lot. There are some genuine gems out there if you look long and hard enough.

This morning I read on the web that a software engineer got so mad with the tax authority that he flew a small plane into a building where many tax employees worked. A few years ago, a man ploughed his car into a police station because he got angry with the way he was treated when he went there for a complaint. Think about these incidents. That should be mystery enough about an animal called human, don't you think?

I thought I was crazy but these two individuals made me feel better about myself. At least I still have some degree of self-control left. I love to edge to the edge, but I have not gone beyond it. I have not taken the plunge yet. That's why a quote from Nietzsche has haunted me ever since I came across it: "If you look down into the abyss long enough, the abyss will look back up at you." How could I not love Nietzsche after he came up with a saying like that? He is my brother! He is an extremist, too, albeit very sensitive and very profound and insightful though some of his views are definitely wrong, e.g., women and his snide remarks about the Germans and the English.

When I read a good tale of mystery fiction, I feel strong and independent. I do have to pay a price in terms of losing my innocence and acquiring cynicism. Nothing is free. Everything has a price. Now every morning after leaving the relative security of my adobe, I look for dark motives in everything my fellow humans do and stay alert for any unexpected dangers lurking around the corners. Just kidding. Paranoia is not the way to live. In real life, I throw caution to the winds. I take risks all the time. By taking chances, I feel alive. I do trust humans less than I used to because they keep disappointing me. Either I am a lousy judge of character or my fellow humans are superb in acting.