I learned all I know about psychology from the 1960 movie PSYCHO.

 

My folks took me and my 12-year-old brother to see Psycho in 1960. Because there wasn't assigned seating yet, my brother and I sat together, and our parents sat elsewhere. Sweet mother! We sat behind an elderly couple who laughed all the way through the scariest movie we'd ever seen. Right then, I came up with my net-net for nut jobs. You're neurotic when you walk into a room, hear someone laughing, and think they're laughing at you. You're psychotic when you walk into a room and hear someone laughing, but there's nobody in the room. Period. Any questions. I have met several bonafide psycopaths in my life. I only dare mention one here, because he's dead and can't show up at my door with a chainsaw. His name was Stanley Dean Baker. I met him in my 8th-grade social studies class in Sheridan, Wyoming. I was showing a friend how to shine sunlight through a magnifying glass and set paper on fire. The next day, good old Dean Baker brought his own mangifying glass and shined it on boxelder bugs crawling across his desk. They'd slow down and then…POP! I can still hear Dean's laugh. But the best part came in high school. Dean took to kidnapping and murdering hitchhikers and then eating them. He finally got caught in a stolen car by a California highway patrolman who probably had to go into therapy for years afterward. Dean said to the officer: "I think I've got a problem," while taking some human fingers out of his pocket and munching on them. I kid you not. Google Stanley Dean Baker. He went to prison and later, as a totally reformed pillar of society, when around to high schools talking about the evils of Satan worship. He's dead now. I have my own private list of psychos for whom I keep checking the social security death index. Whenever one pops up, I may celebrate his leaving Earth in this blog. Sincerely yours, Rick Bennett Ad Hit Man