I realize I have a strange fascination for strange people. Maybe I’m just strange. OK, I know I am. I have a unnatural interest in serial killers or any other kind of anomaly. I especially love photos of Victorian freaks, and old photos in general. Naturally, I devour anything related to Jack the Ripper in that never ending search to name the bloodthirsty psychopath. Numerous books have been read and movies watched on this subject, one of my favorite being the Johnny Depp movie From Hell. I have even been to London to follow in his footsteps with Donald Rumbelow, the Ripper expert, and go to the murder sites. Needless to say, my dogs were barking that day. My next stop will be in Fall River, Massachusetts to visit the Lizzie Borden Bed & Breakfast when time permits and if I can get anyone to go with me since no one seems interested. I could take out a personals ad on Craiglist but me being the next one chopped up there seems very likely so I think I’ll pass on that idea. Anyway, speaking of Lizzie, now there was a odd duck straddling the fringes of society. I don’t know what was going on in her mind but it was definitely unhinged when she decided to butcher her parents. Theories range from Lizzie and the maid covering up a lesbian affair to her taking revenge for her father’s sexual abuse. Either way, I think she did it and so did everyone else since she was totally shut out by society. We know she did attend church and also had wild parties for travelling actors, which were lowly thought of back then. At that point, what did she have to lose? First hand accounts say she gave cookies to the neighborhood kids and was just as sweet as pie. Yeah, I bet she was a real delicate flower. Then we have the John Merrick/Elephant Man. That beautiful, unfortunate soul, trapped in that grotesque body. Due to him having a disorder that was never identified, he was horribly misshapen, with warts all over his body exuding a fowl smell. If this had happened to the two names mentioned, it would have been divine retribution but what on earth had John Merrick done to become totally disfigured? I for one can’t imagine running around with a big, old lumpy body. Well, yes I can but not nearly that severe. In an attempt to sleep like everybody else, lying down, he mercifully passed away. May he rest peacefully. These are just a few that I have an interest in. A few others would be would be Aleister Crowley, Mary Bell, JonBenet Ramsey, and the evil that is Casey Anthony. I will spend some more time later on poor JonBenet but As I tend to ramble on and it’s very late, I will wind it up here. So I will be back to tomorrow for another daily dose of rambling. Ciao
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I would go with you to see the Lizzie Borden house, Shea.
I have a morbid curiosity about the dark side of human nature as well. Probably should have a career in forensics as a criminal profiler…being a CSI would be too gory for me. Last night I watched a film about Aileen Wournos titled Aileen: Life and Death of a Serial Killer. The movie, Monster, with Charlize Theron (whos own mother shot and killed her father “in self defense”) makes you feel kinda sorry for Aileen. Whereas in these documentary films you can see she is either totally batshit crazy or pure evil…just look at those eyes of hers when she gets riled up…Scary! Did you know that the good ole USA produces more serial killers than any other country and most of them are white? What’s up with that?!? Maybe white people really are too repressed. Arrivederci. 
Finally seomeone willing to go to the Borden B&B. I’m glad I’m not the only only one that likes that dark stuff. Aileen was batshit crazy. I wonder what made her that way. I did watch Monster but that didn’t quite explain it. Charlize did a damn good job.
I was just thinking, again, about this blog entry….have you ever thought about going to the Mutter Museum in Philadelphia? It is full of strange human oddities. I just thought that if you were into the macabre you might enjoy it. I did a quick google search and it is under 300mi from Philly to Fall River! Just a thought, Shea.
What is it?