My Revenge-Justified and Explained
The Study: Why We Really Enjoy Getting Revenge
Revenge is sweet. When we are wronged by someone, most of us take great pleasure in yelling at that person. There's a reason for this. According to new research from scientists at the University of Zurich in Switzerland, revenge is linked to the area of the brain associated with enjoyment and satisfaction. The BBC News Online reports that this may explain why so many of us choose to reprimand others when they break the rules or abuse our trust.
"Instead of cold, calculated, reason, it is passion that may plant the seeds of revenge," psychologist Brian Knutson of Stanford University wrote in a commentary accompanying the study findings that were published in the journal Science. He equated it to an aggressive driver who refuses to allow another car to pass in front of him in heavy traffic. "After squeezing back the intruder, you can't help but notice a smile creep onto your face," Knutson wrote in Science.
Finally a scientific justification for the following incident:
A Christian says: "Do unto others..."
A Jew says: "An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth"
An Arab says: "Harm one tooth in my head and I'll have
your whole damned mouthful."
The other morning when I was out for a coffee, I was joined by the Madame of our local whorehouse. During the course of our discussion of business practice and procedures in general, she told me the story of one of her customers that, to me represents the epitome of successful revenging practice. An insult or hurt was received, an appropriate remedy for that hurt was established as a goal, and a plan was devised to effectively unite the perpetrator of the crime with the remedy.
It seems the Madame was awakened the other morning by a terrific pounding on the door of the whorehouse. She rushed down to greet this early business opportunity, but when she opened the door was surprised to find only a little boy standing on the step. He was quite agitated and upset and she could see that he had been crying, so she asked what she could do for him. He looked her straight in the eye and with barely contained rage in his voice told her he wanted a whore.
She was taken aback by this, and enquired as to his age. He bluntly told her that that was none of her business, he had enough money, produced a wad of bills to verify this assertion, and told her she could take it or leave it, he didn't really give a shit. If she didn't want his money he knew who her competition was in town and he'd just go there, so make up her mind, yes or no? Well, cash is cash, and it was better she take it now and keep it from that gutter crawling bitch who ran that low class brothel down the street.
Resolving to do business with him, and with total customer satisfaction an established policy of the house, she agreed and asked if he had any preference when it came to his choice of whores. He told her he really didn't give a shit what the bitch looked like or how old she was but, she had to have Syphilis. The Madame was totally astonished by his request and refused to proceed any further with the business until he explained why he would want to contract this horrible sexual disease.
The boy thought it over for a minute and then, with a look of enraged anticipation on his face, told her:
I'll give it to Sis.
Sis'll give it to Dad.
Dad will give it to Mom,
Mom will give it to the Postman,
That's the son-of-a-bitch that stepped on my frog.