Friday, October 25, 2013

Serial Killers: The Infamous Famous


 

The serial killers’ impetus is under scrutiny more today than at any other point in history. There are many television shows dedicated to murderers in general, but the highest ratings go to the serial killer. In these shows, there are those who argue that these sociopaths kill in order to become famous. While this argument may hold some water, it is like a boat with a hole in the aft section; it will not float for long unless there are people willing to scoop out the water and plug the hole. Instead of “water, water everywhere, and not a drop to drink” (Coleridge, Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner) it is blood, blood everywhere and many a drop to preen. To say that serial killers kill in order to gain notoriety is akin to saying the bulimic vomits because vomiting is fun. Turn that line around and you get the truth. Bulimics vomit to stay thin and stay popular while serial killers kill because, to them, killing is fun. Media attention is just an incidental thrill. The killer kills to kill and would kill whether or not mass media existed.

Any thinking person knows that vampires and werewolves do not exist, not in the mythological way. Vlad Tepish drank blood and implaled tens of thousands, and Elizabeth Bathory bathed in the blood of virgins. They did not do this to be written up in the papers, for there were no papers back then. Woodcuts existed, sure, but not mass media newspapers giving killers clever names. Neither one of them ever turned into a bat and flew away, though Tepish did escape. To go back further, no printing press existed in the days when Tiberus threw people off of high cliffs for fun or when Caligula raped senators’ wives and had them impaled and infected with syphilis. These lunatics killed for the same reason anyone kills—power.

As time passed, the serial killer did find it fun to cajole the police. Jack the Ripper (or H.H. Holmes, if you prefer) sent the police many notes on his British vacation and did the same thing while he killed in America, masquerading as a doctor with a brilliant castle in the city of Chicago. He began killing, as many serial killers do, as a child, when he was Herman Mudgett and pushed a young friend off the top of a hayloft in New Hampshire. Older, he gassed and gave acid baths to his victims, many of them from the World’s Fair or The White City, as it was called at the time and he never said a word. The one time he did leak out was to Marion Hedgepeth in a Missouri jail where Holmes was being held for fraud. I believe he did this because he had become bored.

However, they do enjoy their games. The Zodiac played games with code. John Wayne Gacy played games by not only being an incredibly upstanding member of Chicago society, but also by allowing the police into his home for various dinners—one of which would lead to his getting caught. Jeffery Dahmer played games, but only with his victims. Had he not zoned out on alcohol at the wrong time he may still be alive and killing today. Albert Fish played games—sending letters to the families of his victims, most notably Grace Budd, talking about how succulent her flesh tasted, and bragging that he did not rape her. The one thing these killers have entirely in common, other than that they are obvious sociopaths is that they did not write or cajole to make the papers; they did it to fuck with the police. (Though in Dahmer’s case, he only fucked with the cops once to save his own skin.)

It is not the serial killer using the media, it is the media using the serial killer. The media gives the killer clever names—Zodiac, Green River Killer, The Butcher of this, the Strangler of that, and, let us of course not forget the lawyers who write entire books about how awesome they are for putting killers away, like Charles Manson. You have to wonder what motives lay behind the writing of Helter Skelter. Factually speaking, historically speaking, the serial killer will kill anyway, regardless of media attention. For me, it is the media and the novelists who exploit the killer and not the other way around.

So, that being said, who are the real assholes?

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