Friday, December 29, 2006

Retirement, gangland style

In the Mafia, you're not allowed to retire. You're in until you're dead, as this 96-year-old recently arrested mobster proves. At an age where he's lucky to be alive, he was still out making threats and running rackets. I'm sure he had the assistance of younger thugs, but still, you've got to hand it to the guy. No one ever raged against the dying of the light quite like this. Through his life experience, he is a living time capsule of the American Mafia. He was a boy during the alleged 1919 World Series fix engineered by Arnold Rothstein (the architect of modern organized crime), was middle-aged during the heyday of the mob in the 40s and 50s, and was an aging gangster in the 90s when John Gotti was taken down. Like many his age, he retreated to Florida, as Myer Lansky did when he grew older (there's a great photo in the book "Tough Jews" of an older Lansky walking his dog), but his retirement was not what it was for the rest of the senior citizens in Florida. It involved all of his old gangland activities, with no accomodations made for his old age. The Feds finally got him, but he might not make it to trial.
After a quiet holiday, I'm coming back out this weekend. Tomorrow night I'll be at Entre Nous to help Sharon celebrate her birthday. I'm sure Larry B. will play some 80s metal for us to celebrate properly. On New Year's Eve, I'll be at Bound and Entre Nous' joint bash. With my usual date currently out of commission, it looks like I'll be on my own. I might be running into an ex (the one who thought my name was Katie the last time I saw him), but I'll have plenty of friends to keep me occupied, even if some of them, like Dolphy, Angie and Jennifer, won't be there. Will anyone be there to kiss me at midnight?
On a positive note, I've been writing. I actually spent a good part of today writing, and not just blogging. I also found a writing group, and got some very helpful comments from them on a story I've been working on. Smart creative people are so hard to find, and I found a group of them. Sometimes the forces of luck smile on me. Not in the field of love, but in other ways.

Tuesday, December 19, 2006

Ipswich and Atlantic City under attack

With a suspect in the Ipswich Ripper case caught, here on American soil, another killer has claimed four women (the article doesn't make it clear if they were prostitutes or not, but it was Atlantic City). A recent autopsy revealed that at least one of the victims was strangled. All four bodies were found lined up behind the same motel, which could indicate a disorganized offender (the dumping ground was convenient) or a connection to that specific spot. The article points out that all the bodies were facing east, which almost sounds ritualistic. So far, there are no suspects in the Atlantic City case, but we can probably expect him to be similar to the Ipswich suspect; a loner who has had problems with women. But that could also describe many men who don't become serial killers. Dennis Rader, arrested a few years ago as Kansas' BTK killer, referred to a "factor X" that made him kill, that he could not define. Even if Rader was just looking for a justification for his crimes, he raises a valid point. What is that one factor, that one trigger, that turns an unfortunate but common event, like a divorce, or an all too common torment like child abuse into a thirst for blood and vengeance in a select few? Many criminologists indicate that it is not only genetics or only upbringing that turns someone into a killer, but a still unknown combination of the two, possibly along with an undetermined "factor X."

Monday, December 18, 2006

Ipswich Ripper suspect

Suffolk police made an arrest in the Ipswich Ripper (or Suffolk Strangler) case. But the police shouldn't jump to conclusions yet (I have three words for them: John Mark Karr). The suspect is a 30-something loner who turned to prostitutes after his marriage fell apart. From a general sex-crimes profile aspect, he looks like the perfect suspect, but in the interview, he sounds like he had something of an affection for the prostitutes he patronized. That he knew some of the victims is an obvious red flag, but it seems unusual for a killer to advertise his relation to his victims. Killers of this type don't usually go after victims that can be easily traced to them, although I remember reading about one killer who only murdered his female acquaintances, and he was quickly caught. Still, a broken marriage could be seen as a trigger for a man who had a long festering desire to harm women. The suspect sounds confident that he won't be formally charged, and maybe new evidence will be revealed that clears him. But, like he says, he doesn't have a solid alibi for the disappearances of the victims. Recently, a sixth prostitute in the area went missing, and, as far as I know, hasn't turned up yet, dead or alive.

Friday, December 15, 2006

Slow torture before the holidays

I would love to go to Bound tonight, but I don't think I'll make it. My boss is out of the office today, so I can get away with not working, but after work I have to go to a stupid driver's ed class, because apparently I have to have a license to get by in the world (that's the impression I get anyway). I've had to spend three hours in a cramped classroom surrounded by idiot teenagers, with the worst teacher I've ever had to suffer. He constantly goes off topic, is easily distracted by stupid things, and seems to think he's actually worthy of respect. I hate when dumb people think they're smart. And on top of that, he's from the Phillippines, and his English isn't great. Yet he doesn't seem to understand that the reason so many people in the class have to ask questions is because they can't understand his fractured English. Imagine the worst, least focused and qualified teacher you've ever had, and combine it with MVA bureaucracy, and that's what I'll have to put up with until the end of next week. But don't feel too sorry for me, I'll make it if I stifle the urge to punch my teacher in the face. Maybe I should go to Bound tonight, of course I'd get there at 11 at the absolute earliest, to work out all this frustration through dancing and maybe a good flogging. I will definitely be at Entre Nous this Saturday, so you will see me out soon.

Wednesday, December 13, 2006

Another Ripper in England

This one's actually strangling his victims, but the same principle applies:
This article provides little information about the killer's methods (dubbed the "Suffolk Strangler"), except that he's murdering prostitutes, just like two other infamous UK murderers: the still-unidentified Jack the Ripper (sorry Patricial Cornwall, not buying it) and Yorkshire Ripper Peter Sutcliffe, who terrorized Northern England in the late 1970s while maintaining the cover of a devoted husband and father.
That the UK police are publicizing and devoting such resources to solving the murders of prostitutes is surprising. As many serial killers and violent offenders know, law enforcement officials are reluctant to investigate the murders of "undesireables" like prostitutes or poor minorities. The reason these killers target prostitutes is not ethical, though Sutcliffe claimed he was on a mission from God, but opportunistic. These killers hate women, all women, and prostitutes are the most available victims. Their work depends on going off with strange men, and likely, police won't pay too much attention if they turn up dead. America's most prolific serial killer, Gary Leon Ridgeway (the "Green River Killer") was loose for almost 20 years, during which time he murdered roughly 50 women, most of whom were prostitutes from an infamous stretch of highway in the Pacific Northwest.
Five women have already died at the hands of the Suffolk Strangler, Jack the Ripper's total body count. And if this killer is anything like others of his breed (I'm assuming the killer is a man), he won't stop killing until he's caught. And you can expect me to keep track of this case, as I have previously with the John Mark Karr/JonBenet debacle and the Amish school shooting.

Thursday, December 07, 2006

Random thoughts

Check out this link. I thought it was hilarious: Considering that Bush was at one point pushing to get "Intelligent Design" taught in public school science classes, he himself is definitive proof of evolution, as you'll see.
On an entirely different shallow topic, there are so few celebrities for me to lust after. My guy crush used to be Russell Crowe, but then he lost his edge by getting married and appearing in one too many Ron Howard movies. Not that I don't still dig out my DVDs of LA Confidential and Romper Stomper once in a while. My former girl crush, Scarlett Johansson, who I fell for the moment she appeared on screen in Lost in Translation, has been a bit overexposed of late, and, while I still think she's a cut above the Jessica Simpsons of the world in terms of intellect, sometimes in her interviews she comes off as trying too hard. Still, when she was on the cover of Esquire, I spent considerably more time staring at the magazine rack, and there will always be a special place in my heart and pants for Russell and Scarlett. But things change, and crushes get stale. For guys, I always have Prison Break (but not until January 22, thanks again FOX); Wentworth Miller, Dominic Purcell, and William Fichtner (if Mahone comes back from his gunshot wound), all very hot in different ways, especially in their roles as fugitives or rogue FBI agents. I don't have a boyfriend, and these men on Monday nights are my substitute for the moment, even if William Fichtner is old enough to be my father. So is Viggo Mortenson (who I recently discovered was born in 1958, the same year as my father), but that doesn't stop me from watching the Lord of the Rings and A History of Violence alone with my hand straying down my pants. I saw Albino Alligator last night, and while I didn't care for the movie itself (Kevin Spacey should stick to acting), it was great to see William Fichtner and Viggo Mortenson in the same movie. As for girls, it's tougher, with Paris Hilton and the aforementioned Jessica Simpson being passed off as sex symbols. Two come to mind though, Jessica Alba and Salma Hayek. They're sexy, not stupid, and look like they eat once in a while (just like my Scarlett), which is so rare these days.
I have absolutely no desire to work any more today. My arms are actually starting to cramp from working the mouse and keyboard all day. And because of work, it looks like I won't have the energy to go to Bound tomorrow night. But on Saturday, I will likely be at Mistress Purgatori's Saints and Sinners Show, if the scheduling gods smile on me. It should be a fun fetish-filled evening, and it's for a good cause (the Center for Missing and Exploited Children), so check out the Mistress' MySpace page for the details if you're in the area.