Do these genes make me look like an asshole?

My friend Eric recently shared a link on his facebook to this article about 'survival of the kindest'.  It's an interesting read, but it's what I call "scientifish" simply because of the way it's written. Although it comes from Berkeley's website, it's still a human interest piece written to be informative to a wide audience, not just people in lab coats with a vernacular specific to a certain field of study. It describes how maybe people aren't born as selfish assholes after all, and that being nice is healthy and good for society at large. Awesome. While vaguely referencing a few studies, the article asserts that a variation of the oxytocin gene receptor (OTCR) could be responsible for empathy and keeping one's cool in stressful situations.  The following line in the article irked me immensely: "One recent study found compelling evidence that many of us are genetically predisposed to be empathetic." And then this really pissed me off. "'The tendency to be more empathetic may be influenced by a single gene,' Rodrigues said."

Ummm... no. Given my very shallow background in genetics, my recognition of connotative diction in journalism and my overall skepticism concerning linking genes to everything from drink of choice to whether or not you'll enjoy a Dickens novel, I immediately called bullshit.

"This is war. Every line is about who I don't wanna write about anymore" - Brand New

I get off on good song lyrics. Wrapped up in a driving bass line or a haunting melody, concise lyrics that nail my thoughts exactly will stick with me forever. I can't help it. I think most people match music to their moods; I tend to match up the lyrics to what I'm feeling, no matter what the song sounds like. It all builds up to that moment where I sing someone else's words and it says what I feel better than I can and in that moment I feel this connectedness with people and pain and love and loss and victory and release and joy and then I feel okay about whatever is going on. Because someone else gets it too. And I'm not a shitty person for thinking it first.

"Nothing? Nothing?! Tra la la?" (Bonus nerd points if you can name the movie)

If you know me or follow this blog, you know I lost my job. If not, let me explain: I lost my job. Well, the company went bankrupt and I was left out in the fucking cold, but that's neither here nor there. Well, if you're interested, it's all documented here. Anyway... 

I spend a lot of my time doing very unproductive things that still interest me even though I know it's a rabbit hole of procrastination and idle despair. Play ball in the house for an hour? Done. Fix all the uncatalogued songs in iTunes? Done. Name each one of my toes? Did it twice. Update my resume? Go fuck yourself.