One of the most difficult obstacles to believing in the universal goodness of mankind and the non-existence of evil is the undeniable observation that I am one sick fuck.

I don't think I'm an uncommonly sick fuck, I don't have any major life issues, I'm a generally happy, peaceful guy. I don't have any major grudges or unresolved issues, I don't face any insurmountable challenges, and I'm not suffering from depression.

But sometimes I'm sure that there's a demon living inside of me. I try to purge him, strangle him, pretend I've never met him, or convince him at least to leave me alone. But often enough, I involuntarily have to listen to him. He's been known to see a person of color he doesn't know and think "here we have a product of affirmative action." He's known to walk by a girl late at night and wonder if he could overtake her.

Fuck you, demon! I'm not racist nor am I a sexual predator. Leave me the fuck alone!

I'm a strong proponent of belief in the fundamental goodness of people. I trust unless given a reason not to. I give people the benefit of the doubt whenever I can. I try to see people for their strengths, and not their flaws. In political conversations, I argue that people are only hostile when they feel hurt or threatened, that serial killers are really good people who went terribly wrong. I argue that if we treat Russia with respect that we could all get along wonderfully.

But how can I hold those opinions, when I know perfectly well just how sick a fuck I am?