After that post on Robert Hansen, I snooped about the interwebs a bit and was yet again amazed at the attention and yeh, fixation on serial killers in the US (doesn’t hurt that I’m reading a bio of Uncle Charlie Manson which, honest, is more my attempt to understand what went wrong with “the ’60s” than murderama), particularly this latest slaughtermind Israel Keyes.
The point that has to be hammered home again and again is that these are deeply psychopathic people. That they were “compassionate,” “caring,” “affectionate,” “helpful,” “conscientious,” “trustworthy,” “good parents” and what-have-you at times when they weren’t murdering people doesn’t matter a whit. If you fall for that, you’re another victim. It’s all part of the ruse. Making you sound like a gullible idiot is part of the fun.
On a personal note, let’s just say that since 1967 I’ve been fascinated by schizophrenia and that since 1985 I’ve been equally fascinated by psychopathy. And no, not my mental conditions.* But with factors in my real life world. That’s all you will find out through this blog.
A swampy topic I can talk more about is UFOs and evil aliens.
Fascination with Alien Abductions took off with (creepy guy) Whitley Strieber’s 1987 book Communion, which was a very sober-faced resurrection of ’50s drive-in movies about UFO horror. Strieber no doubt noticed that a strain of “it rilly happened” Alien Abduction accounts had a horror theme (once upon a time before that they were Gateways To Wonderful Worlds narratives) and rode it all the way to the big bank in an era when false memories and the fallacies of eyewitness accounts were not examined carefully.
This phenomenon had a lot of flowers and flatulence in the early ’90s. [All of it remarkably detached from the blunt fact that alien encounters would be one of the biggest events in human history.] You had to keep whacking the same nail over and over again: show me an alien toothbrush, an alien trash bag, a clear photo of something unearthly — and everything will be resolved. ALIENS EXIST!
It became clear to me that the point was to keep the option open forever. Fine. Go suck an egg.
And that atmosphere forced me to conclude that aside from a few lyrical bits, UFO studies was not a “sunshine and fresh air” topic. More suited to damp dudes stuck in the basement. With Abominable Snowman files. And cabinets stuffed with serial killer tidbits
[EDIT: June 2016 — I have concluded that Strieber has become a deranged religious blabber in order to let himself off the hook of having any objective backup for his visions of whatever. It’s a big, big club. It will last for human history. We’ll see how he does in the millenniums-long run.]
*I wanted to put a joke in this sentence, but couldn’t find a tone that worked. Hmmm. Never run across any yuk-yuks from later than the ignorant ’50s that got any fun out of schizo.