But enough about you

And yet there is justice in the world. Narcissists don't just strut through life, conceited and carefree. For one, they're throwing temper tantrums with doormen who could care less, but they're also -- here it comes -- really lonely deep down. (Hey, maybe the reason why it's a clichi is that we've all been quietly chanting it to ourselves for so long as a way of getting through the day, one narcissist at a time.) The very devices narcissists use to protect themselves from reality also starve them of essential human nourishment. They are so trapped in their own strict regime of self-love, they cannot tolerate anyone or anything that disrupts the system.

So when such people are confronted with a seemingly insurmountable bit of reality -- think of my "Do you know who I am?" friend or Bill Clinton thrusting his index finger at the world, declaring, "I did not have sexual relations with that woman" or Michael Jackson's face -- they become insane. In these moments, narcissists are expelled from their womb of self-love and plunged into a free-fall of destructive and uncontrolled impulses, awash in long repressed insecurity.

In a section of her book called "The Seven Deadly Sins of Narcissism," Hotchkiss lists a variety of manifestations for these impulses: shamelessness, magical thinking, arrogance, envy, entitlement, exploitation and bad boundaries. In each case, the narcissist employs a rash tactic to foist hideous feelings of inadequacy off on someone else. Throughout the book, Hotchkiss illustrates these qualities with profiles of the narcissists she's encountered -- a mother who applies for credit cards in her daughter's name and then charges them sky-high, a man who doesn't want to lose his girlfriend (hey, she looks great in a cocktail dress) but won't make any kind of commitment to the relationship, a professor who marries his awestruck student and then prohibits her from having a career or life of her own.

The moral of the story is almost always that these people are missing out on what's really important. Narcissists are so busy loving themselves, they've forgotten to love anyone else. And then there's the cruelest insult to these types: growing old. "Aging is the ultimate narcissistic injury," Hotchkiss grimly explains. "The thinning hair, the sagging flesh, the mind that dumps thoughts and takes too long to retrieve them, the aches and pains that may signal unspeakable terrors yet to come, are evidence that the supply lines for maintaining inflation are drying up." Forget Michael Jackson -- ladies and gentlemen, I refer you to Jocelyn Wildenstein.

And yet time and again people are drawn to these individuals. Hotchkiss calls this condition -- that is, falling prey to the frothy appeal of narcissists -- "narcissistic vulnerability." Interestingly, more of Hotchkiss's book is devoted to the danger of becoming involved with a narcissist than to the hazards of actually being a narcissist. Perhaps this is because, as far as therapists are concerned, narcissists are generally a lost cause. (As a psychiatrist once explained to a friend of mine, narcissists are the bread and butter of the therapeutic enterprise, not because they so often seek professional help -- they're too impressed with themselves to ever think they have a problem -- but because they drive so many of the people around them crazy.)

Or perhaps this is because narcissists rule the roost for a reason -- our whole culture is narcissistically vulnerable and can't help but fall in love. Hotchkiss isn't surprised at the once-rampant popularity of "Ally McBeal," for example. "Most of the characters are some flavor of narcissist ... David Kelley is amazing in what he understands. He's really made a case study of narcissism in this show," she told me in an interview. (Though perhaps the program's decline in ratings and recent cancellation is a testimony to how short-lived the narcissist's appeal can be.) It's a symbiotic relationship between the self-obsessed and those obsessed with the self-obsessed. Why else would reality TV be such a success?

The narcissistically vulnerable are, in many ways, just as loony as their counterparts. They hope to borrow from the power and confidence that radiates from the narcissist or to mend an old wound left by a narcissistic parent by having a happy relationship with a replacement narcissist (a doomed scheme, needless to say) or perhaps they're simply bored. "Sometimes life just seems a little humdrum, a little flat," Hotchkiss muses. "When you haven't felt excitement or motivation for a while, there's nothing like a little narcissism to perk you up."

And that, I realize, is the point I've been driving at all along. I know narcissists are dangerous to relate to in any serious capacity -- someone capable of breaking your heart, for example, or firing you -- but they are interesting in a superficial way. Hotchkiss gives solid advice to those of us dealing with the narcissists inextricably woven into our lives, but she neglects to mention that the ones we need only deal with from a distance -- an acquaintance or colleague or, say, Angelina Jolie and Billy Bob Thornton -- can actually be a a lot of fun. Look, we're not getting over our fascination with narcissists anytime soon -- it's hard-wired into our hungry little hearts -- so why not use them every once in a while? Even better, you can enjoy the perks of narcissism without actually suffering the hangover in old age. So wind one up and watch him go. The brazen sense of entitlement! The mad theatrics! The byzantine needs! Henry James couldn't have written it better.

Or you could just watch the latest installment of "The Osbournes" instead.

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