Kerry Max Cook, "Chasing Justice" (2007).

As if I didn't have enough stuff to think about, I continue to struggle with my support for the death penalty. It's not that my perception of humanity has altered in any significant way. I still run up against the thorny juxtaposition of my diet (which includes many animal products) and my belief that people are simply animals (albeit a bit more sophisticated in their brain development). If I'm willing to eat something, then I have to be willing to put it to death, or at least be responsible for its slaughter, right? Sure, I'll take a pass on the feast of the dead criminal- but that doesn't mean I'm willing to forgo his/her passing. All "god's" creatures die, one way or another... and we all have a hand in that process.

Yet I'm not altogether comfortable with the company that this particular position puts me in. All too frequently I find myself at odds with death penalty advocates on just about every other political issue. And on an intuitive level, I usually don't want to be associated with them. On the other hand, the majority of those who would seek to abolish executions are folks that I respect and sometimes even admire. Why wouldn't I want to throw in my lot with them? On the other hand, I can't seem to transcend my repulsion toward the idea of out-of-control homo sapien proliferation. I guess it's akin to the way most people feel about cockroaches. There's just too many of them, and they overwhelm environments once they take root.

That doesn't mean that I don't love individuals. I can usually find something to care about in everyone, once I get to know them a bit. I'm definitely not a misanthrope on a personal level. It's only the idea of humanity that bothers me. Anyway... so yeah, why not just eliminate those who are clearly beyond redemption? Pluck them from society so they don't perpetuate their behavior? I don't find many of the counterarguments convincing. The ultimate penalty is unfairly applied, but that's a systemic issue. The appeals process is costly, but once again it comes down to management. These are problems that must be addressed. However, they aren't sufficient to convince me that capital punishment is "wrong".

What does give me pause is the reality that the innocent are sometimes executed. Since techniques to establish DNA comparisons have become cheaper and more accurate, over a 100 men have been released from death row. Kerry Max Cook is just one of them. He spent 20 years in Texas prisons (notorious for being among the worst in the nation), and he put everything he had along the way into establishing his innocence. Incredibly, the very conservative Texas Court of Appeals reversed his conviction three times. There was so much corruption in Smith County (where Cook lived) that prosecutor misconduct caused a long series of injustices. Reading this man's autobiography is a harrowing experience.

Kerry Cook was a young, sexually ambivalent man when he was charged with raping, killing, and mutilating a woman who lived in the apartment complex where he was staying. There was scant evidence that Cook was guilty, but it was used to build a distorted version of the tragic events that took place. The depictions of the courtroom dramas that sent Cook repeatedly back to prison are troubling. Perhaps even more so are the accounts of horrid abuse Cook faced while incarcerated. Chasing Justice seems like a reasonably objective retelling of the author's experiences, and lacks the pretension that often plagues convict memoirs. It certainly makes me think twice about allowing such a thing to occur in our "open and democratic" society.

They Love Me, They Love Me Not...

A few days ago, when I first heard about the Iraqi journalist who threw his shoes at George W. Bush during a press conference, I really wanted to post about the incident. I'd be lying if I didn't admit I got a big kick (no pun intended) out of it. I just had too many other things on my mind to delve into the subject. It's not like there is an overwhelming amount of news on the national political scene. Things have finally calmed down with the President-Elect. He's made most of his major cabinet appointments and is now busy filling the remaining slots, which include positions overseeing stuff like the White House bathrooms and tennis courts. Obama simply doesn't appear to be able to generate as much controversy as his predecessor (yet).

As far as Dubya is concerned, I'm forced to concede that I have developed the slightest hint of sympathy for the guy. This is inconvenient and even a bit painful, as he has been the figurehead overlooking eight years of almost unmitigated disaster. Yes, I've heard all the arguments about how safe he has kept the country over the last eight years. But to buy that premise you have to overlook 9-11, and believe that he could have done nothing to stop it. You also have to come to the conclusion that the War in Iraq has made the world (and thus the homefront) more secure. And you might even have to get over any qualms you have about how his administration has responded to domestic disasters.

Add to all of this the power his master Cheney has seized for his "unitary executive branch", and the terrible leadership he has extended over the economy, and I understand why anyone would be resistant to feeling sorry for Bush. Still I can't help it, and I suppose that the reason for that has something to do with the irrationality of feelings. I've always had an eye for the underdogs in life, and despite his natural advantages, George W. Bush has perpetually managed to force himself into that category. He's been a singular failure at every endeavor he's ever undertaken. That takes some mad determination, especially considering the family he was born into. His level of incompetence makes you want to cheer him on to a single victory.

But it seems all too clear that his redemption will not be forthcoming during his last month in office. Even Oliver Stone, with his reportedly sycophantic biopic and tradition of historical revisionism, couldn't rehabilitate this guy's reputation. Bush sits at favorable odds to be remembered as the worst president in US history... worse even than Herbert Hoover, James Buchanan, and Andrew Johnson. That's sordid company indeed. And now he wants to portray his adventurism in Iraq as a positive story, with a happy ending (a sadly fitting description, if you apply this term's more obscure meaning). However, he can't get everyone to play along. This isn't the Special Olympics, and he doesn't get points just for surviving his presidency.

If we want to properly place our warm sentiments, perhaps we should direct them at the hurler himself- journalist Muntadhar al-Zaidi, who was employed by the Egypt-based al-Baghdadia television network. He even flung an accompanying insult, shouting "It is the farewell kiss, you dog." That, of course, referred to the soles of his footwear, which he certainly meant to come into contact with the President's smug face. While the meaning may be lost on some Americans, this gesture was the ultimate indictment, and an action conveying the deepest disrespect from an Arabian point-of-view. For his indiscretion, al -Zaidi now faces a likely two-year stint in an Iraqi prison for "insulting a foreign head of state"*. Yikes! No doubt Iraqis are enjoying their new "free society".

* al-Zaida also suffered a broken arm and several cracked ribs as a "result of the incident".

The Pittsburgh Media's Trial of Christine Korbe.

About a month ago, an FBI agent named Samuel Hicks was shot and killed during a raid on a house in the Pittsburgh area. On November 19th, Hicks and seven other agents staged an operation to roust Robert Korbe at his house in Glenshaw. Mr. Korbe was alleged to be participating in a drug trafficking ring, and warrants had been issued for his arrest. It was early in the morning when Hicks and his colleagues apparently banged loudly on Korbe's front door, announcing their presence and intentions to take custody of Robert. Reportedly, the wanted man decided to turn fugitive, rushing to dispose of drugs located within the house before attempting a stealthy getaway through his back door.

While her husband was trying to escape, bullets were fired somewhere in the front interior of the house, and Agent Hicks was struck with what turned out to be a fatal wound. He had a protective vest on, but the slug glanced off his collarbone and caused irrevocable damage to his internal organs. The shot had been delivered by Christine Korbe, Robert's wife. According to her testimony, she believed she was protecting her two young children from a home invasion. Despite the FBI's account of the incident which had its agents loudly proclaiming their presence, Mrs. Korbe says that she had no idea who they were. Still she has been charged with murder. Hicks died shortly after being taken to the hospital.

We'll never know for sure what happened in the Korbe household on that November day. Chrissy Korbe claims that she fired her 38-caliber revolver blindly around a corner and down the steps leading to the second floor. She then ran back to her bedroom and dialed 9-11, while the agents tried to administer emergency medical attention to Hicks. Robert Korbe was apprehended trying to exit through the back door. Instead of celebrating the successful capture of a drug dealer, Western Pennsylvania authorities now prepared themselves for a trial concerning the shooting death of a federal employee. Christine Korbe, who had no criminal record before the incident, now faces the death penalty.

Local media reaction to the story was immediately polarized. The hack talk-show hosts on radio station KDKA 1020 proclaimed Christine Korbe guilty of intentionally killing Agent Hicks. Her husband's reported involvement in the illicit trade of narcotics was used as circumstantial evidence to condemn her in the court of public opinion. Eager listeners called in to voice their own opinions, many of which were delivered with unjustified confidence and the presumption of guilt. It was amazing just how many folks seemed to think they had infallible insight into the circumstances of Hick's death. Agent Hicks became an instant martyr struck down in the crusade against the evils of drugs.

Samuel Hicks was a young man with a promising career, a wife, and a two-year-old child. The fact that he died while attempting to serve the public in the capacity of law enforcement is an undeniable tragedy. Still, society's best interests cannot be served with assumptions and unqualified judgements. Whether or not the Korbes are a couple of "scumbags" has no bearing on the case that is about to appear before the bench. Pittsburgh hasn't been the frontier for well over 175 years, and there is no reason why its citizens should resort to a vigilante mentality aimed at swift and unquestioning justice. There will be plenty of time and opportunity to establish the details of this incident... so why are so many impatiently insisting on blood-for-blood?

Pirates of the Indian Ocean.

When you think of pirates, what are the images that come to mind? A swash-buckling Errol Flynn? An effete Johnny Depp with an eye patch? Do you imagine the colorful characters represented by your child's toys? Is that a parrot on his shoulder? Does that guy have a peg leg? The degree to which pirates have been romanticized over time is amazing. The bright colors, long hair, and natty clothing of the stereotype are pervasive and misleading. What do modern-day pirates actually look like? They are likely to be skinny Africans or Asians. Coming as most do from Third World nations wracked by poverty, they usually don't spend a lot of time trying to impress with sartorial splendour.

The very first pirates that the United States had to deal with were from the Barbary Coast ports of Northern Africa. These Ottoman Corsairs were Muslims from Tunis, Tripoli, Algiers and Morocco that operated in the Mediterranean from the Crusades until the 19th century. What particularly annoyed the Western powers was the fact that these cutthroats demanded tribute from ships desiring to move through the waters where they were based. If money was not forthcoming, than the pirates would attack and capture both ship and crew. They also made raids on coastal towns and grabbed unsuspecting Europeans villagers, selling them into slavery. This took a serious toll on the psyches and pocketbooks of major world powers.

It's incredible to think that tributes to Barbary Coast pirates accounted for 20% of US government revenues in 1800. Granted, modern-day thieves probably siphon off that much from the Fed nowadays, but at least most of those responsible are actually US citizens. Jefferson and Stephen Decatur finally put an end to the problems by sacking Tripoli, and for awhile the seas were safe for American shipping. It looked as if piracy was a thing of the past. But it never did go away entirely. Apparently terror floats on water as well as it creeps on land. Still there's always more to the story that can't be encapsulated by a bumper sticker mentality. The latest activity is happening off the coast of Somalia.

When Somalia was beset with internal breakdown fifteen years ago, regular patrols along their coast came to an end. That's when fishermen from other nations started fishing the rich Somali waters with impunity. Finally the Somalis struck back with vigilantism. They began to corner these illegal fishermen and demand taxes. Naturally this practice escalated, and soon the vigilantes transformed into pirates that targeted any ship within reach. It became a lucrative way to address the crippling poverty in that part of Africa. At the end of this past September, some independent Somalis hijacked a Ukrainian freighter loaded with tanks, guns, and ammunition headed for Kenya. They were quickly surrounded by American and Russian warships, and demanded $20 million to release the ship, crew, and cargo.

As of November 20, 2008 pirates have attacked 95 ships in the Gulf of Aden and Indian Ocean, hijacked 39, and were still in possession of 17 vessels. They will likely have received tens of millions of dollars before the year is over. Most recently, the Somali pirates have seized a Saudi oil tanker called the Sirius Star, which was carrying two million barrels of crude. They are asking for $25 million within ten days, and threatening "something disastrous" if they don't get it. The world's major military powers are taking notice of the situation and considering what to do about it. The United Nations is thinking about putting together a fleet to stem the problem. But until there is some stability in Somalia itself, I don't see how they are going to stop this piracy.

Jonathan Pincus, "Base Instincts" (2001).

There are numerous theories as to why certain individuals commit terrible deeds, and through my extensive reading in the true crime genre, I've encountered many of them. As you are probably aware, Americans are particularly drawn to the idea that "evil" causes the unwary to strike out against their fellow humans. According to this perspective, the devil makes them do it. This explanation reinforces their belief that man is best served by seeking guidance in the Lord. It also appears to justify a general societal orientation toward punishment, rather than treatment or prevention. There are "victims" and "perpetrators" and it is easy to determine who is who. People are endowed by their Creator with "free will" and are solely responsible for the consequences of their actions.

I'm not totally unsympathetic to this characterization. I sympathize with those who have a fully developed sense of justice. While I shy away from descriptors like "good" and "evil", it is often quite clear that some of the people in our midst wish to do us harm. I have no desire to see the death penalty eliminated. I think the ultimate focus should be on identifying the ne'er-do-wells and applying every strategy to minimize their ability to cause social discord. There should be no tolerance for any individual that seeks to force their will on another by violence. That role belongs to society as a whole, and is determined by a process involving "consensus" and "democracy". In other words, it's appropriate for public debate- not private action.

Still I have no doubt that prevention is the most effective way of decreasing the incidence of violent crime. Unfortunately we've entered an era more interested in reactionary responses than proactive measures. Cries for retribution surround us as the complexity and chaos of our environment increases. Anti-intellectualism is a growing force in the United States, and people seem less willing to participate in objective analysis. The results are rampant inefficiency in the criminal justice system and social regression. Because of these threats, I wish more professionals involved in law enforcement (and especially those working in the court system) would read Jonathan Pincus' Base Instincts.

The central idea behind Pincus' study is that violent crime is the result of a coincidence of factors that includes neurological damage to the brain, abuse during childhood, and mental illness (such as paranoia, mood disorders, etc.). This may sound like common sense, but it is surprising how many people refuse to consider the ramifications of NOT taking into account these factors. So many are looking for the magic bullet, or the unifying theory that can explain every criminal action. I understand that temptation, but it is at its root simplistic and naive. The suggestion that one must decide between "nature" or "nurture" components does more harm than good. They are quite obviously not mutually exclusive.

Jonathan Pincus is no "mere" social philosopher, but rather a practicing neurologist at the Georgetown University Hospital. He has conducted in-depth research with a diverse range of murderers. He has experience with serial killers, mass murderers, and those violent individuals we have been fortunate enough to arrest before they could graduate into one of those first two categories. Throughout his book, he covers the importance of social histories, neurological examination, and psychiatric testing. There are sections throughout that present terribly disturbing firsthand accounts of violent actions. Gradually he focuses the reader on the importance of confronting child abuse, as he identifies that strategy as the one containing the most possibilities for success.

I recommend Base Instincts for any serious reader with a strong stomach and an unflinching commitment to confronting dark realities.

Pope Brock, "Indiana Gothic" (1999).

I've come to the conclusion that a reader should have significant doubts about the objectivity of a tragic story, especially if the narrator is related to any of the participants. If the difficulty of applying an even standard to the actions of all players is acknowledged ahead of time, then the account can be read with the confidence that the writer is at least honest with him/herself. Otherwise the reader should direct a jaundiced eye toward any inherent bias of the author. He/she should remind him/herself that there is no single inviolable truth. We all have personal understandings mediated by relationships, experience, and individual personalities. How could it be any other way?

Because of the inescapable reality of subjectivity, it must be pointed out that the author of Indiana Gothic is the great-grandchild of Ham Dillon, a man who was murdered by his brother-in-law. One might speculate that there are enough generations between the 'victim" and his killer that a fairly even approach could be taken in outlining the "real story". But as Brock himself says in the afterword of Indiana Gothic, "Almost a century later, Ham Dillon was still a golden boy in family legend." Therein lies the rub. It is eminently clear just how strongly Brock favors his ancestor in this tale.

Even with the obvious sentimentality that sprinkles Brock's portrayal of Ham Dillon, it is rather clear that the guy was objectionable. When his wife's sister (Allie Hale) comes for an extended visit to the family's Indiana farm, he wastes no time in finding her alone and putting the moves on her. This dalliance quickly builds into a full blown affair. Granted his sister-in-law is stuck within a passionless marriage to a rather pinched man who is much older than her, but this doesn't excuse the perfidy of the cheating couple. They even go as far as to plot out a way for them to be nearer each other, so they can continue their secret treachery for years. Ham convinces Link Hale (his brother-in-law) to give up a good job and a prosperous future, and move to a small farm community with the pretense that his wife can reestablish a close relationship with her sister.

Perhaps the torrid romance would have flamed out naturally had the illicit lovers not conceived a child, and tried to pass it off as Link's offspring. The little boy looked a lot like Ham, and Link couldn't help but wonder why. And it didn't exactly inspire confidence when the child's biological father suggested that the boy be named after him. Still the cheated husband tried to retain his misguided belief in his wife's virtue, and the integrity of his brother-in-law, who had made duplicitous efforts to help integrate him into the social world of rural Indiana (including sponsoring him for the Masons). Yet Link's self-denial eventually became too much to sustain. He caught the two of them in an embrace and finally confronted them with his suspicions. While his wife defiantly confessed, Ham Dillon lied to the end. Even on his deathbed he refused to admit his guilt to his own wife.

Indiana Gothic traces both the events that led up to the tragedy, as well as the court trial that resulted in its aftermath. The author's admirable attention to period detail can't obscure his essential unreliability. Because not only does Brock continually highlight the irrepressible charms of his adulterous great-grandfather, but he goes out of his way to represent Link Hale as a pathetic and weak man. It is almost as if Brock needs to find a way to justify the aggrandizement of his relative, in order to sustain the family legend. Additionally one wonders how Brock can pretend to faithfully relate the conversations, motives, and (even) inner thoughts of people who died before he was born. He makes no attempt to explain his conjectures, nor does he include an outline of his sources. There is no reason to believe in the authenticity of his account or any of the details, aside from the bare-boned facts accessible to anyone willing to comb through the newspapers of the time.

The Genius of Rick Geary.

Yesterday I had a chance to stop by my favorite local comics store in the area (Copacetic- in the Squirrel Hill neighborhood). My main reason for visiting was to pick up the new issue of Mome, a Fantagraphics seasonal anthology of comics that features some of the best young cartoonists working today- including Jonathan Bennett, Martin Cendreda, Gabrielle Bell, David Heatley, Sophie Crumb, and Anders Nilsen. Of course I got tempted by some other fine products as well. I picked up a back issue of The Ganzfeld, a Wild at Heart DVD, and Rick Geary's J. Edgar Hoover. It just so happened that my trip to the store coincided with the arrival of a shipment which included that last book.

As far as I'm concerned, the discovery of a new graphic novel by Geary is always an occasion for celebration. His series of little books, chronicling some of the most famous Victorian-era crimes, demonstrates the high level of artistry, style and professionalism that Geary is known for. Had I not initially discovered them at my local library (which has an outstanding selection of graphic novels), I'd likely own everything he has ever put out. As it is, titles focused on the Lizzie Borden murders, the Garfield Assassination, and the Beast of Chicago (H.H. Holmes) have lingered in my mind long after I've finished reading them. The amount of research he invests in order to capture the historical accuracy of the events, and the period details of the settings, is absolutely striking.

I'll admit that Geary was a bit of an acquired taste. I wasn't initially attracted to his drawing style. A Geary character is unmistakable- with its pinched face, flat expression, and meticulous cross-hatching. The look of his page is extraordinarily clean, and can be superficially mistaken for being almost uptight. The all-capital lettering of his copious narration boxes are almost mechanical in appearance. His approach is straight-forward and informative. But the more I looked at his work, the more I began to appreciate his attention to craft. It is nearly impossible to spot an incongruous or sloppy portrayal. His writing style avoids melodrama and flashiness, and begins to carry you away into the depths of his story. Rick Geary definitely has a way of creeping up on you.

It's gotten to the point that I will immediately buy anything new that he releases. It doesn't even matter if I think it's a good deal or if I'm particularly interested in the subject matter. I have complete confidence that, by the end of the book, I will have been transported fully to another time and place, and in the meantime- I'll have actually learned something. These are educational comics that are extremely entertaining. I wouldn't hesitate to recommend them to a teenager or a senior citizen. Geary's J. Edgar Hoover biography is no exception. He presents an unbiased survey of the controversial man's life and times. I can't say that I've ever been exceptionally interested in studying the career of the man that defined the FBI for the first several decades of its existence... but still I made my way through this 100-page volume effortlessly.

Unlike the other examples of Geary comics in my collection, the J. Edgar Hoover book is a hardback edition. It's published under the Hill and Wang division of Farrar, Straus, and Giroux. The production values are impressive... just as I would expect from any Geary work. His output demands that special care be invested in its presentation. I wouldn't be surprised if the cartoonist is called on to illustrate more historical figures. I can't think of an artist with better skills for that purpose than Geary.

Terri Jentz, "Strange Piece of Paradise" (2006)

Somehow, during a trip I took to Half Priced Books months ago, I ended up buying two books that I would categorize as belonging to a sub-genre of True Crime called 'victimology'. I had no intentions of seeking out works on this theme, but nevertheless this is what occurred. As I pointed out in a previous review of one of these books (Jack Olsen's Salt of the Earth), it is rare to find an account of a crime from the victim's perspective. That volume focused on the family of a girl who was abducted and killed. The second of the pair (Terri Jentz's Strange Piece of Paradise) was actually written by the survivor of an attempted murder. One would have to assume that this type of account is extremely scarce. What was strange about my selection of these particular books was that they both concerned crimes that occurred in the Pacific Northwest, a seeming hotbed of gruesome crime during the late 70's and early 80's.

Terri Jentz was a Yale co-ed who decided (in the summer of 1977) to join a female classmate in biking across the United States on what was then called the BikeCentennial Trail. The duo only made it seven days into the trek. Their journey ended in a little park called Cline Falls on the banks of the Deschutes River in Oregon. It was there that they decided to pitch their tent and spend the night. Sometime around 11:30 PM on June 22, 1977 their tent was deliberately run over by a pick-up truck. Jentz woke up from her slumber to find herself pinioned under a front wheel. As if this atrocity wasn't enough, the unidentified driver exited the cab and attacked the girls with repeated blows from a hatchet. Against all odds Jentz was able to flag down a passing vehicle, gather her friend and the gear, and survive until reaching a hospital. Although both of them lived, Jentz and her companion suffered massive life-threatening injuries.

Despite the fact that there were plenty of people at the park throughout the day of the assault, the assailant was never conclusively identified. Both victims slowly resumed their lives as time passed. Obviously they were affected by the physical and emotional traumas of that fateful night, but for a long time they pushed the memories to the back of their minds. Terri's friend had no recollection of the actual attack, but Jentz was clear in the limited impressions she formed of the perpetrator while he stood over her prone and mangled body. Symptoms of disassociation and post-traumatic stress disorder pushed her to eventually seek clarity about what she identified as the single greatest life-changing event of her life. In 1992 she decided to make a return journey to Cline Falls and the surrounding area to recover the pieces of her past, without which she would never feel entirely whole. Her intention was to document the process in an autobiographical work. She started with a request for the case files compiled in the wake of the investigation that followed the initial assault.

Jentz claims that she never expected that she would discover the true identity of the attacker she nicknamed "the Cowboy". Still she had the clues of what she remembered about his appearance. He was sinewy, handsome, and a meticulous dresser who preferred western wear. With the limited documents she was able to gather from the various law enforcement agencies who had been involved in the case, she put together a list of people that might be of some help to her cause. Jentz was astonished to learn that the tragic incident that had waylaid her was still very much alive in the minds of the community closest to Cline Falls. In fact many folks were convinced that they knew who had committed the awful deed itself. Each interviewee would suggest additional contacts that Jentz would track down to add another piece to the puzzle. For the next eight years she would continue her quest. As the picture of that tragic day came into focus, Jentz found herself forming relationships that would continue for years afterward. Her growing bonds within this once strange and hostile land transformed her understanding of both others and herself.

As an author Jentz can be both condescendingly pretentious and remarkably revealing. When I started reading the 500+ page Strange Piece of Paradise, I thought it was going to be tough to get through. The exposition leading up to June 22, 1977 smacked of self-indulgence and rather obvious elitism. However as Jentz made inroads into an environment clearly foreign to an Ivy League feminist, she seemed to expand both emotionally and intellectually. Her 'pop psychology' analysis of certain personalities and her simplistic conclusions about greater social trends can occasionally grate one one's nerves- but there's no denying the force of some of her insights, or her courage in undertaking such a perilous task. She put herself at great risk with her research and publication of this book. There are some tough customers running through her narrative, and she goes to great lengths to expose a lot of their most dangerous secrets. Although she employs pseudonyms throughout her tale, it's not too difficult with a bit of Google to figure out who the major players really are. The knowledge that such extreme characters actually exist and commit the acts described by Jentz is perhaps the most compelling reason to seek out this book.

Jack Olsen, "Salt of the Earth" (1996)

The more you read within the true crime genre, the more you'll realize that most authors tend to focus on the lives and personalities of criminals rather than the victims. I suppose that there's a good reason for it- generally readers are more fascinated by predators than prey. A lot of people read about outlaws because they are fascinated by extreme human behavior. The victim's role in a crime is passive, and literature doesn't lend itself naturally to studying inactive characters. An author that concentrates on the effects that criminal behavior has on its innocent targets risks being labeled as sadistic or accused of sanctification. Neither trait is likely to garner a wide audience.

A darker view of reality leads me to suggest that many readers are attracted to true crime for vicarious thrills. Although perverse, there is a certain titillation to be experienced in these accounts of mayhem and violence. If you aren't sure if you believe this claim, you need only take an honest look at the most popular television shows and movies in the US. This certainly isn't an isolated phenomenon involving a small cult following. If the readership of the true crime genre is limited, it is only because reading in general is rare in this society. Given these factors, it is a surprise that Jack Olsen chose to focus on the family victimized by a heinous crime in his Salt of the Earth. I'd love to say that I appreciated the unconventional approach, but I have to admit that I wanted to hear more about the monster at the heart of the events.

Olsen introduces his story with a look at the early lives of Elaine and Joe Gere. They are the parents of a 12-year old girl who was abducted and whose remains went undiscovered for years after her disappearance. The author outlines their personal histories so that the reader will have more insight into how and why they responded the way that they did to their daughter's absence. It's an interesting decision that makes his book engaging in the beginning. The descriptions of the small desert town in Southern California where the family originally lived are compelling, and help provide an understanding of the character dynamics between the Geres and their three children. But unfortunately, the continued focus on individual character ends up inspiring little more than cliches once Olsen arrives at the tragedy and the subsequent investigation of the crime.

It was mildly interesting to learn how the Geres, their friends, family and co-workers reacted as law enforcement authorities identified and began to pursue a suspect- but after awhile Olsen seems to have fallen into the trap of idealizing the survivors at the expense of telling an insightful version of the the overall story. Naturally there will be some readers who insist that Olsen's veneration is the proper due of the victimized Geres. Others will begrudge any author who 'glorifies' a 'boogeyman' by telling the perpetrator's story. Still, Salt of the Earth left me extremely dissatisfied. If Olsen would have eliminated just a wee bit of the slavish regard he directed toward the Geres, and spent a bit more time telling us Michael Kay Green's story- then he might have written the true classic that some claim this to be.

Green is a truly hateful creature. He brutalized his wife and intimidated her family. No one knows just how many women he attacked during his criminal career, or the extent of damage he visited on them. He spent his time and money on a vain pursuit to become Mr. America. His steroid rages overwhelmed a personality that was once considered to be gentle and earnest. I have no doubt that Michael Kay Green deserved the punishment he would ultimately face. He probably should have been given the death penalty. However he remains a complete mystery after 384 pages of Olsen's rather repetitive prose. What factors influenced him as he was developing? How did his relationship with a distant father color his self-perception? There are so many unanswered questions that I feel like the tale is insufficiently told.

I thought that I could fill in some of the gaps by Googling "Michael Kay Green". Oddly, there is very little mention of him on the Net- other than Olsen's book. More than anything else, it is this dearth of information that makes me view Salt of the Earth as a missed opportunity. There's ample information about how the various victims are "supposed" to feel about their loss... but the incident itself that created such pain remains (mostly) an enigma.

Vidocq and the "Rogue Cop" Tradition.

How much confidence do you have in American law enforcement to stick to ethical methods while fighting crime? Obviously we have a very specific legal code which sets limits on what the police are supposed to be allowed to do. On a more fundamental level, all US citizens are granted due process (a guarantee of fair application of the law) by the Bill of Rights. I believe that there are many people who take these rights for granted, and many others who assume that these rights will always be extended if they ever find themselves accused of a crime. Unfortunately, legislation (such as the Patriot Act) has curtailed these essential protections in our modern era. There are many folks who are happy to trade away some essential freedoms for an increase in (perceived) security.

Yet even before 9-11, I think a lot of abuses were perpetrated by authorities on the citizenry. Sometimes these acts came to light through subsequent investigations. Still one would have to be naive to accept the presumption that individual law enforcement agents always play by the rules. The figure of the rogue cop is indeed an iconic archetype in our mass media. In fact, a movie under that title was actually released as early as 1954 (starring Robert Taylor, George Raft and Vivien Leigh). I haven't seen that one, but I'm very familiar with such stories. Abel Ferrara plumbed that vein in 1992 with Bad Lieutenant. In that bleak film, Harvey Keitel stars as a corrupt cop struggling through his life of drug abuse, violence, and sexual exploitation. For the more idealistic amongst us, Keitel's character is an essential wake-up call.

In truth wicked men have walked among the rank and file of law enforcement for hundreds of years. I recently picked up the Memoirs of Vidocq: Master of Crime. One might expect that the author is a notorious criminal- and in fact, they'd be correct. But that's not the whole story. Eugene Francois Vidocq was also one of the most successful and respected detectives of 19th Century France. This symbol of controversy was born in Arras in 1775. As a youth he was inspired to flee his hometown after accidentally killing his fencing instructor. He served in several military units, but continually deserted them after one or another incident of insubordination. From there he graduated to running with gangs of raiders and brigands.

Inevitably Vidocq's life of crime led to a series of imprisonments. He quickly proved himself adept as a prominent escape artist. Despite the occasional attempt to make a bid for the straight life, his penchant for booze, women, and the company of criminals consistently put him back on the path of the outlaw. After being sold out by a conspirator, and in a bid to escape a harsh penalty, he finally decided to volunteer his services to the French Police Inspector M. Henry in Paris. Challenged to demonstrate his sincerity and worth as an informer, Vidocq initiated a campaign of betrayal against his fellow blackguards that astonished and impressed the authorities. His reputation as an underground agent soon eclipsed that of his previous criminal career. After a period of years, he became the legendary head of Brigade de Sûreté (Brigade of Surety)- a plainclothes detective unit.

During a single year (1816) Vidocq made as many as 811 arrests. His facility for catching crooks no doubt rested in his ability and knowledge within the underworld milieu. Notably, Vidocq didn't always go about his work in the most ethical way. He instigated crimes only to later receive credit in reporting them. He also (self-admittedly) employed tactics as diverse as extortion, lying, entrapment, and minor graft in order to "get his man". No doubt he was a con-man, a braggart and a scoundrel- but he was also tremendously successful at putting "bad guys" behind bars. What more could the privileged of French society ask for? No doubt many of them believed that he ends justified the means. And besides... if you weren't doing anything wrong, then you presumably had nothing to fear from Vidocq.

That's a common argument presented by those who would look the other way as law enforcement personnel cut legal corners in order to police society. How do you feel about that? Surely you aren't a criminal, so why do you care? Well... people do sometimes get accused of crimes of which they are innocent. Tough break, huh? What if the authorities decide that they simply don't like you? If they are above the law, then they can hurt you with impunity. You may find all these civil rights inconvenient when other people invoke them, but you may someday benefit from those same rights if they are still respected in our society. Similarly you may trust the current administration, but your enemies may someday seize control and exercise the same powers.

Mark Essex... Race Warrior and Mass Murderer.

As I continue to read about some of the most violent incidents directed by individuals upon their fellow society members, I am occasionally surprised to come upon an unfamiliar name. Such was the case when I read about Mark Essex in Elliott Leyton's landmark study of multiple murderers- Hunting Humans (2001 ed. of a 1986 copyright). This well-respected book established Leyton's reputation as one of the foremost academics studying serial and mass murderers in America. It makes sense that Leyton would choose Essex as a representative case, because the author takes the unique approach of considering larger social factors when studying the actions of what many have characterized as "monsters". Throughout Hunting Humans Leyton examines the "tasks" of these individuals that may influence them to act out a bloody and horrific script.

Leyton is actually proposing that these killers are acting out some hazily-conceived rebellion against particular segments of society that they view (subconsciously or not) to have wronged them. This perspective certainly generates controversy as psychiatrists, law enforcement personnel, FBI investigators, and other observers have identified a litany of causes and predispositions that seem to override generalized social concerns. In some instances it does seem that Leyton is stretching the details of history to accommodate his theory. But at the same time I think it's fair to consider the behavior of multiple murderers on several different levels. It makes sense that developmental problems, genetics, a history of abuse, head injuries, mental illness, and (yes) sociological factors can all influence even the most extreme of human behaviors.

While it may not seem appropriate to look for social causes when we look at John Wayne Gacy or Jeffrey Dahmer, it seems hard to avoid the issue in the case of Mark Essex. Born to a loving and stable family in Emporia, Kansas, this young African-American grew up believing in a fair and essentially just society for all. According to all accounts he was a gentle and happy boy who got along well with almost everyone. Although he wanted to be a minister someday, he displayed a special aptitude for technical skills and decided to enlist in the US Navy. This is when his life began to spiral downwards. He was posted in San Diego after basic training, and was working as an assistant in a dentist's office. At first his superiors found him to be positive, soft-spoken, and eager to continue his history of engaging with all types of people. But gradually Essex became aware of a United States he never knew existed. He was increasingly subjected to racism from white sailors at the base.

As time went on Essex became frustrated with the inequalities he was now experiencing. He began to spend time only with blacks on the base and in the city, and became involved with outwardly militant political groups. After a clash between black and white sailors led to what Essex saw as a fundamentally unfair and inadequate formal resolution, he decided to go AWOL. This action would lead to a demotion and (eventually) an administrative discharge "for reason of unsuitability due to a character behavior disorder". Essex was by no means alone in his perception that the US Navy was a discriminatory body. There was widespread disillusionment among African-Americans in the military, and even sabotage on occasion. The resentful ex-sailor had been irrevocably altered- Essex went to New York City and then New Orleans, and ended up in the company of Black Panthers and other extremists.

While in Louisiana Essex continued to subscribe to an increasingly defiant revolutionary worldview. During a last attempt to assimilate into society as a vending machine repairman, Essex was distressed to learn of the local on-campus killings of two black student demonstrators. He responded by arming himself and becoming a recluse. Simmering in a small apartment alone, he "decorated" the walls with pro-Black and anti-white rhetoric and hateful slogans. When he finally emerged he initiated a stunning campaign of bloody violence. On New Years Eve (1974), he shot three police officers and cadets, killing two. Somehow he evaded capture. A week later he began a murderous rampage that ended with him being surrounded by 200 cops, on top of the roof of a Howard Johnson's Hotel. When he was about to run out of ammo, he left his hiding place and was riddled with bullets and killed. In the end Essex had managed to take the lives of nine people and wound ten others.

During the tense standoff at the hotel, a crowd of African-Americans sympathetic to Essex had loudly threatened to join the man in his rebellion. Each time he shot at the police, they chanted "Kill the Pigs!" in encouragement. Although the actions of this self-perceived Black Messiah did not touch off a full-scale revolution, it was clear that many of the disenfranchised blacks in society shared his sentiments. A twelve-year old boy that would later become John Allen Muhammed was a resident of the Baton Rouge area at the time- he would become famous as 1/2 of the infamous Washington DC Snipers.

Part Four- Helen Morrison, "My Life Among the Serial Killers" (2004)

This is the final post in my series about Helen Morrison's My Life Among the Serial Killers. Here's the end of my point-by-point rebuttal:

24. In a later chapter, Morrison deals with international serial killers. She examines two individuals in particular who committed suicide after being imprisoned. She goes on to suggest that maybe the prison structure led to a change in their personalities that made them more "humanlike (sic)". Not only does this typify the type of non-scientific conjecture that she rails at throughout the book, but it directly contradicts her oft-stated belief that serial killers cannot change or develop over time.

25. "Behavioral scientists don't do the medical work that I do to discover what makes a serial killer commit murder after murder. They'll look at the external characteristics of the person, and sometimes they get into a false way of 'psychoanalyzing 'the serial murderer'. " (p.252)

One wonders what Morrison means here regarding "a false way of 'psychoanalyzing' ". Would such a practice entail comments about the lack of emotional maturity in serial murders? What about suggesting that they are "addicted" to killing? It might behoove Morrison to take a good, hard look at her own beliefs before taking these potshots at FBI profilers. Her statements expose her self-importance repeatedly, without end.

26. "Serial murderers never commit suicide before being apprehended, and they rarely kill themselves in prison." (p. 256)

This is yet another assertion that cannot be substantiated. Certainly no serial murderers that we have identified and imprisoned have committed suicide before their identification. That should go without saying. But how does Morrison know that there aren't serial killers that kill themselves before they are identified? There's no way we would ever know, either way.

27. "If you, the reader, remember some or all of these points when watching frightening reports about the latest killer, you too will be able to keep the strange phenomenon of serial murder in perspective." (p.273)

Here's where Morrison tries to make us feel better about sticking it out to the end of her tremendously flawed book. In the last chapter (entitled "Where Do We Go From Here") the author makes a list of the controversial "rules" she has superimposed on serial killers (for example- they aren't psychopaths, they are addicts). This is merely a rehash of a few simplistic categorical statements she has proposed in the previous 270-odd pages. We are meant to think that we have gained some crucially enlightening insights, but only the least critical of readers could possibly believe that.

In summation, I'd like to express my opinion that this is the worst book on serial killers that I have ever read. Instead of insights into the minds or behaviors of these most destructive of individuals, My Life Among the Serial Killers offers a set of poorly reasoned conclusions and wild speculations. I had a lot of difficulty finding the utility of viewing these subjects as "emotionally immature" or "addicted to killing." Morrison is completely unwilling to concede that an individual's environment might contribute to his/her development. Because not every single serial killer tortured animals, experienced head trauma or were abused as children- Morrison feels emboldened to discount these as contributing factors of their behavior. Perhaps if she truly adopted the methods of the science she claims to respect, then her wild claims would be worth investigating. Instead, as I demonstrated in this series of posts, she relies on her own flawed intuition and "eureka moments".

Aside from her total inability to source or substantively defend her assumptions, Morrison lends an annoyingly dismissive tone to her writings. She is unwilling to grant peers, attorneys or law enforcement personnel any authority that might challenge her own. It's great that she is a leading feminist in the field, but that is no reason to be so incredibly self-important. Morrison's ultimate position- that criminality has a genetic component is neither original, nor is it particularly compelling. Contrary to her claims she is not the first "scholar" to propose such ideas. She is, however, remarkable in her abilities to remain entirely unconvincing- despite her ample experience in the field.

The real shame of this book is that she does a disservice to anyone making an alternative claim about the causes of extreme deviant behavior. Many of the reviews of this book that I have read have seized on Morrison's feminism in order to associate her with liberal thought. This is entirely unfair, as many progressive readers would or have had just as much difficulty with both the style and substance of My Life Among the Serial Killers. Neither the content of this book nor Morrison's disregard for her professional colleagues is representative of left-leaning scholarship.

Part Three- Helen Morrison, "My Life Among the Serial Killers" (2004)

This is the third in a series of posts presenting a point-by-point rebuttal of Helen Morrison's My Life Among the Serial Killers (2004).

15. "Then I heard that the lawyers and Bobby Joe had spoken to some other psychiatrists for his trial, and I felt that was not a good sign. As I found with Gacy, too many cooks spoil the broth" (p. 160)

Evidently, after Morrison had served as a defense witness for Gacy, her services were sought after by attorneys and defense teams representing other serial killer clients. Given her failure in the Gacy trial, one wonders why that was so. Perhaps it's because it's difficult to find a psychiatrist willing to work towards a lesser punishment for the most spectacularly dangerous members of society. However, we might be tempted to assume the type of legal fees such experts command are convincing. It's clear from her description of the situation that not only does Morrison see herself as more competent than attorneys, but she also resents having her sole authority challenged on a case.

16. "Like other serial killers I had profiled and interviewed, [Bobby Joe] Long had never matured emotionally beyond infancy." (p.180)

Morrison has a disturbing tendency to infantilize serial killers. This is the crux of her unique approach and perspective. She is making the claim that these criminals kill because they are "emotionally immature". Throughout the book, she systematically dismisses other common factors attributed to serial killers- head trauma, childhood abuse, prior criminal behavior, etc. In this she proves to be irredeemably reductionist. She believes she is revolutionary in finding the unifying theory behind serial killing.

17. "There's a kind of profiler who has studied behavioral science who believes that serial killers torture and kill dogs and cats in addition to humans and that torturing animals is a precursor to killing human beings. But I have not seen this to be true." (p. 191)

Here's an example of what I mentioned above. Her attempt to flout conventional wisdom makes sense because (if there is any truth to it) then her own pet theory crumbles. Unfortunately for Morrison, there are many reports of killers first initiating their cruelty upon animals. Jeffrey Dahmer is just one well known example of this. As conflicting "evidence" we have Morrison's contention that she just hasn't "seen this to be true".

18. "Many [serial killers] have IQs that are above average, though none are geniuses." (p.194)

Here's another incident of the author making a completely unsubstantiated claim. How does she know that no serial killers are geniuses? Has she tested each and every one of them? It seems that Morrison believes that by stating something with absolute authority, her words become reality. Maybe a psychiatrist of like mind would suggest that this itself is an indication of "emotional immaturity".

19. "In one swift moment, Pearson bit [Robert] Berdella so hard, he nearly severed his penis. (..) Berdella then injected him with acepromazine, an animal tranquilizer, and began thrashing Pearson with part of a tree limb. It was thick, splitting Pearson's lip and knocking him out. Then Berdella, oozing a lot of blood from Pearson's bite, drove himself to the hospital." (p.191)

"Most people might immediately react to the pain by wanting to get back at the person who hurt them, a reaction that might lead to killing someone who did such a thing. Berdella did nothing to Pearson right away, he just left the house and went to the hospital." (p. 196)

Nothing of course... besides thrashing him unconscious, and leaving him in that state. Morrison doesn't even seem capable of following her own narrative. She wants to make the case that Robert Berdella (a known sadist) was like a "baby playing with a ball" who did not know the actual reality of torture. She says that he didn't know what pain was, and therefore failed to kill his intended victim when, in the course of that victim's attempted resistance, he almost had his penis severed. In the process of trying to make the facts conform to her theory, she descends into complete and utter nonsense.

20. "He was sleeping like a baby." (p.206)

In an account of the crimes of Michael Lee Lockhart, Morrison describes how Lockhart killed a cop, fled the scene in a sports car, lost control of the getaway vehicle, crashed, escaped on foot, cleaned up at a nearby restaurant, and hailed a cab to Houston. When the cab was pulled over by a the Texas Highway Patrol, Lockhart was discovered sleeping on the backseat. Maybe he was exhausted by the day's activities? No... not in Morrison's esteemed judgment. Her guess is "that he was lulled by the movement of the car, which can have a soothing, soporific effect, especially for someone like Lockhart, who wasn't emotionally developed." (p.206) By now we know exactly where Morrison is going with this.

21. "To me it means they all have this kind of free-flowing identity that is sometimes male and sometimes female and sometimes something in between, pointing to the fact that they have a very fluid sexuality, which means they can function as heterosexuals or homosexuals." (p.208)

This is another absolute gem. Now we are told that all serial killers are bisexual. Are you feeling enlightened yet?

22. "It wasn't that he didn't like his mother or that his father had abused him, and that led him to kill. There was something deeper at work here, something that had less to do with nurture and more to do with nature. To me, there was a consequential, scientifically logical connection to be made here, a connection that no one, absolutely no one, before had made." (p.212)

Morrison's talking about Michael Lee Lockhart here, but she could be talking about any serial killer. In her eyes, she has identified a pattern that applies to them all- They are simply immature babies! You have to appreciate the way she congratulates herself here for this amazingly unprecedented revelation. She's obviously forever altered the case of modern criminology.

23. "All the others before and all the others in the future: they all had this trigger moment prior to killing. They were addicted to killing." (p. 214)

Wait... what's that you say? Maybe they are not all babies? They are addicts? OK, that explains it. And it's a good thing too, because now all we have to do is get them into a 12-step program. Who wants to be a sponsor?

Tomorrow... the last installment of this sordid affair...

Part Two - Helen Morrison, "My Life Among the Serial Killers" (2004)

This is a continuation of yesterday's point-by-point rebuttal to Helen Morrison's My Life Among the Serial Killers (2004).



8. "It wasn't that the panties had sexual meaning to him. He just liked the feeling of them in his hand and on his body. To him, it was about simple comfort and quick release and not about fantasies or dreams ." (p.96)


In Chapter 6 ("The Gacy Interviews"), Morrison relates John Wayne Gacy's account of stealing his mother's panties as a kid. He also stole his neighbors' underwear off their clotheslines. And he even took panties from some of the boys he slept with. He admits that he "used to masturbate with them". Morrison's analysis of this habit is striking. Gacy clearly had issues with his gender identity. By sleeping with men, he confounded conventional expectations regarding sexuality. But to suggest that Gacy's sexual practices were not sexually meaningful seems to me to be the apex of denial. Obviously this extends to his masturbatory habits and methodology. Morrison's statements make me question whether she understands anything at all about male sexual behavior.


9. Dr. Morrison administered a "language test" in which she read a very simple and vague sentence, and asked John Wayne Gacy to interpret what was happening in the imagined scenario. He displayed what (to me) appears to be an understandable hesitancy to assume to know what had not been said. He explained that there were several unexplained variables, and outlined some possibilities. Instead of interpreting the answer as a cautious effort to avoid unwarranted assumptions, Morrison characterized it as the display of "a very primitive mode of thought" (p.98). She went on to say, "A normal person would come up with a structured beginning, a middle, and an end to the story", and then gave her own formulation of a correct answer. Apparently if a subject is unwilling to jump to conclusions based upon flimsy data, then they are abnormal. This explains much of the logic within Morrison's book.


10. Morrison has the unfortunate tendency of overgeneralization. I remarked on this in my last post. Chapter 7, in which the psychiatrist appears for her first time as an expert witness in a "high-profile criminal trial", and displays her habit of flawed simplification. She suggests that her study of Gacy led to extensive knowledge of serial killers in general. She goes on to say that seeing Gacy "is like seeing [Richard] Macek in a different body" (p.101). Macek was the very first serial killer Morrison was allowed to examine in depth and in person. Here she appears to have formed a template to superimpose on individuals, regardless of their differences. This strategy seems not only naive, buy also completely unproductive.


11. "After ten years of research and investigation, I felt I'd barely scratched the surface of what goes on inside the head of a serial killer. (...) I knew a little, and while that was more than anyone else, I still needed to know a lot more." (p.127)


The first part of the above quote is understandable, given Morrison's shoddy research techniques and obvious pattern of misconception. The second half (containing the portion I placed in boldface) is downright disturbing. Her self-assessment shows such an extreme narcissism and hubris that it raises the question of whether or not she should be allowed by law to claim any credibility or expertise on the subject of serial killers.


12. "Gacy could have gotten bored with his victim or he could have become tired physically. But it was not something Rignall did that made this occur. Rignall's passivity did not allow a distraction to occur; it couldn't have." (p.129)



Here Morrison is referring to a victim that was released by Gacy. There has been speculation that Rignall's demeanor helped influence Gacy's decision to let him go. How Morrison feels qualified to make her assertions is a mystery. She has no way of qualifying her claims. She couldn't know what happened between Rignall and Gacy. She wasn't there. Yet she voices her guess with total authority, as if she were omnipotent. Perhaps this too is attributable to her role as defense witness. She attempted to "prove" that Gacy's actions were beyond his control. If Gacy could choose to let a potential victim go free, then her position is necessarily disproven (as it ended up being judged at the trial).


13. "Whenever he drank too much, Peter would indeed open up, only to collapse in fits of hooting laughter, incessant giggling, that often went on for up to ten minutes. Once he got started, he couldn't stop."(p.132)



Morrison included a chapter that presented a detailed profile of British serial killer Peter Sutcliffe (the Yorkshire Ripper). Apparently Peter both abused alcohol, and experienced decreased inhibitions when using it. These are both blatant contradictions of earlier statements made by the author (see Part 1). It's amazing that Morrison was able to get her doctorate, but is unable to identify her many academic inconsistencies. My Life Among the Serial Killers is a prime example of poor scholarship.


14. "Serial killers rarely can control the intensity of their impulses. When they go to do something, they don't modulate their reactions. It's all or nothing, broken wrist or not." (p.132)



This quote references an incident when the young Sutcliffe broke his own wrist while punching a bigger target. Any substantial exploration of the lives of serial killers will demonstrate that Morrison's conclusion here is mistaken. There are multiple incidences of serial killers fighting their instinct to take additional victims, and then succumbing slowly to their aggressive drives after a number of years. The author even gives several examples of serial killers deciding to release their victims after torturing them, but before killing them.



Stay tuned for Part 3...

Helen Morrison, "My Life Among the Seral Killers" (2004)

Given my propensity to enjoy reading true crime, I thought a book like Helen Morrison's My Life Among the Serial Killers would be fascinating. After all, I thought reading a forensic psychiatrist's thoughts about these most heinous of criminals would (at the very least) be intellectually stimulating. I certainly didn't expect to laugh out loud at flawed logic and skewed perspectives. But within the first 30 pages, that's exactly what I was doing.

Right off the bat I discovered that the author was extremely defensive about being a woman in a male-dominated field (and an attractive one at that, if the narrator is at all reliable). In the interactions she had with men, it was immediately evident from her descriptions that she had preconceived notions that would affect her ability to operate objectively. She seemed to even look down on law enforcement, with stereotypes of the class of people that concern themselves with it, and a less-than-subtle condescension toward those who don't have the luxury of doing "pure research". Her attitude made me quickly doubt the quality of her judgment. As I continued reading I began to dog-ear the pages where the most dubious assertions occurred. It wasn't long before I resolved to post here about what I had found.

I decided that the best format for my consideration of the book would be a point-by-point rebuttal, including quotes. Bear in mind that I don't view myself as an expert on criminal pathology, and my objections to the author's thinking process are generalized in nature. What I know about killers, I've learned by reading books- unlike Morrison, who has met and interviewed them in great depth. Yet (as a self-defined expert and frequent court defense witness) I would have predicted that her theories and contentions on the subject would be more logical than they appear to be. Notice that I confine myself to an evaluation of her own words alone, and that I haven't even sought other sources that may contradict her accounts.

1. Morrison puts great stock in hypnotherapy- a method of recovering memory. This is a technique that has been (at the very least) controversial, and generally discredited in the scientific community.

2. (p.24) "(...) no serial murderers are addicted to drugs, drink, or even smoking."

Morrison is prone to making blanket statements about serial killers, based upon her interactions with several of them. Nowhere does she explain her odd belief that they are without substance addiction. But no reputable scientist would frame an absolute in this manner.

3. Morrison claims that a subject that she hypnotized (Richard Macek) manifested spontaneous blisters on his hands during a session where he was meant to recall a previous experience of being burnt. Later when she explains why she had no documentation of the event, she contends that the institution guards would not let her bring such equipment into the mental hospital where Macek was incarcerated. Perhaps we should simply let her own evaluation of the event stand- "I was frightened at what seemed to be an almost supernatural event." (p.28)

4. When the same Macek lapsed into addressing Morrison as his wife in a letter, she completely omits any mention of doctor-patient transference. This is a fairly common concept in psychological therapy, and for all of Morrison's validation of Freudian theory- you'd think she would have caught this. Yet she writes, "We didn't look or act alike. How could he have mixed up the two of us?" (p.43) She concludes that "Richard had just forgotten to whom he was writing."(p.44)

5. "What happens with many normal people is that they lose inhibitions when under the influence [of alcohol], but this doesn't occur with the serial murderer, and it can't be seen as a trigger." (p.55)

So... Morrison is saying that, although serial killers are never alcohol addicts, they don't lose their inhibitions when they drink. Maybe she is suggesting that they have no inhibitions. Or maybe she is claiming that serial killers are immune to the effect of alcohol. Either way, the claims are ludicrous. Ted Bundy himself claimed that he needed to drink alcohol in order to prepare himself to commit crimes. His loved ones confirmed that his manner often changed under the influence of alcohol.

6. Morrison tells us the story of Albert Fish, a child-killer form the 1920's who ate his victims. She says that when he was arrested it was discovered that he had inserted needles between his scrotum and rectum. This would widely be considered deviant behavior. Yet our good "doctor" asserts confidently that the practice "had no greater psychological meaning." (p. 65) This claim is meant to support her theory that "serial killers like to experiment simply for the sake of experimentation." (p.65) Of course even if this were true, it would be useless due to the fact that it can neither be proven nor refuted by data.

7. "First, the serial murderer is never as organized as a psychopath in his methodology. A Psychopaths can plot and carry out complex schemes. Secondly, psychopaths have a structured personality that doctors can pinpoint, utilize and work with. That structured personality is like most everyone else's, with an ego, an id, and a superego. The psychopath has problems with the superego, where guilt and conscience reside; he has no conscience, and he's not scattered the way a serial killer is." (p.71)

There are so many problems with this excerpt that it's difficult to find a starting point for criticism. The outdated and simplistic Freudian psychology should be noted right of the bat. Later in the book, Morrison entertains us with the notion that she tries to avoid "pop psychology". Maybe she has problems with definitions and/or classification. But even if we grant her that confusion, we can't let her get away with the other nonsense here.

It is generally accepted that most serial killers fit the description of "psychopath". Morrison even uses the conventional definition for the term. Few feel remorse for what they have done. In fact, they might even be considered the archetypes of the classification. Not every psychopath is a serial killer, and it can be argued that the reverse is true as well. But Morrison frames her argument as if they are mutually exclusive descriptions. This is simply untrue, and a dangerously irresponsible claim.

Furthermore, there are both organized and disorganized serial killers. Some have undeniably "plotted and carried out complex schemes". It's ironic that the quotes above come from a section about John Wayne Gacy- a man notorious for his plotting and execution. Perhaps Morrison tries to get away with these claims here because she was hired to work on Gacy's defense team. In her capacity as defense witness, she was supposed to provide evidence for Gacy's insanity. Needless to say she was unsuccessful.

Much more to come in Part Two...

Fox Butterfield, "All God's Children".

I've always resisted the idea of genetic determinism. Clearly genes guide the development of each and every human being. But I feel most people go too far in crediting them for the ultimate product. For most traits beyond the most basic and physically fundamental, it is clusters of genes that work together to help define manifestation. Many individual genes are facultative, which means that they introduce a range of possibility into the organism at conception. Environmental factors largely decide how an individual grows. Complex behaviors are even less reducible to genetic determinism. I've described how my thoughts about genes affects my perspective on homosexuality and gender identity.

Another dimension of human behavior that some posit has a genetic component is criminality. This notion is philosophically suspect right off the bat, since conceptions of criminality vary over societies and time periods. Certainly I will grant that a cluster of genes can affect the individual's predisposition for becoming impulsive or aggressive, but that's as far as I'm willing to go regarding the relationship between crime and genes. Yet if there is one account that could make me reconsider my position- it would have to be All God's Children (1995) by author Fox Butterfield. This book is a case study of a New York man named Willie Bosket. It traces several generations of the Bosket family and describes the difficulties and criminal activities of the various males in Willie's direct genealogy.

Butterfield actually adopts an unconventional approach in telling the Bosket story. He traces the root of their difficulties all the way back to antebellum South Carolina, and more specifically to a county called Edgefield. The case is made that this particular region has one of the most violent histories of any rural area in the United States. Butterfield examines the culture perpetrated by the white classes in the county. Indeed there is much historical record documenting an extreme orientation toward violence. This record extends to include the physical assault of a US Congressman (Preston Brooks- and Edgefield native) on a US Senator (Charles Sumner). It is the author's contention that this environment of mayhem was passed down to the slaves in Edgefield County. As the Civil War and the demise of Southern Reconstruction pushed African Americans to northern urban areas, this legacy of violence was transmitted along with them. (Please bear in mind that I am greatly simplifying Butterfield's train of logic here in the interests of keeping my description of the book brief.)

Willie Bosket's ancestors found themselves in Harlem, on northern Manhattan Island. Willie's father Butch was an incorrigible youth, abandoned by his parents and left to the mercies of a chaotic juvenile justice system. As his antisocial behaviors evolved, he was passed from agency to agency along with a sense of frustration and a lack or resources to truly help him. As one might expect, Butch ended up in prison for life after an exchange with a pawnbroker that resulted in the murder of two individuals. Butterfield interviewed many family members, bureaucrats, and social workers that came into contact with Butch during his lifetime. He manages to capture the sadness inherent in Butch Bosket's story, as well as the brutality that he visited on innocent victims. While he doesn't candy-coat the consequences of Butch's actions, he is not without sympathy for the neglect and mismanagement that contributed to his ultimate "fate".

The case for the contribution of a genetic component in the formation of criminal personality is made most effectively in the examination of the arc of Willie Bosket's life. Both his personality and his early childhood experience eerily mirror that of his father. There is suggestion of a mental disorder that both Boskets may have been born with. Regardless of the origination of the similarities, they can't be denied. Indeed Willie ends up in several of the exact same correctional institutions that appear to have failed Butch. They even share the same diagnoses as determined by psychiatrists and behavioral specialists. Yet the scale of violence seems to have increased with each generation of the Bosket family. By the time he reached adulthood, Willie had murdered at least three human beings. At times Butterfield seems prone to overstatement- both his characterization of Willie Bosket as the most dangerous man in the New York penal system and his descriptions of his subject's personal charm seem exaggerated. But All God's Children's exhaustive study of one (perhaps) demonstrative American family certainly illuminates the mix of cultural and physical inheritance that contributes to the incidence of antisocial behavior.

Jason Moss "The Last Victim" (1999).

Yesterday I mentioned a book by Jason Moss called The Last Victim: A True Life Journey Into the Mind of a Serial Killer. After completing high school, the author decided that he wanted to make contact with serial killers. He wanted to write a college honors thesis about his experiences, and eventually work as a criminal profiler for the FBI. His first target was "The Clown Killer", John Wayne Gacy. For those of you who don't know the story- Gacy raped, tortured, killed, and buried in his basement 33 young men. The Chicago native had owned a construction business and was well known in his community. Moss decided to read all the available material on Gacy and send a letter to him on death row.

In order to get Gacy to "open up", the eighteen-year-old Moss developed an alter ego. He posed as an abused, lonely, sexually confused youth... just the kind of boy that the killer whould have chosen as a potential victim. As the letter exchange continued, Gacy became more controlling and eventually began to prod Moss to initiate an incestuos sexual relationship with his younger brother. Despite the growing concerns his family members had about his obsession, Moss proceeded to write a second set of letters under the assumed identity of his younger sibling. His letters were constructed in a way that would convince his pen pal that he had indeed started such experimentation. He justified this decision to himself with the idea that it would hook Gacy for the long haul, and lead him to make significant revelations.

As time went on the unlikely pair exhibited more intimacy in their respective letters, and soon Gacy was calling Moss' personal telephone line at home. Gacy sent checks for the calls, and several of his paintings, in order to seduce his final prey. When Spring Break came around, Moss was invited to visit the the death row cell block in Illinois at the prisoner's expense. While his family was suspicious of Gacy's motives, Moss considered this a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and accepted the offer. He flew to the prison by himself, and was welcomed by Gacy's nephew. The agreement was that Moss would stay at a hotel for three days on Gacy's dime, and visit the inmate for several hours each day. The young investigator thought that he would get crucial insights into the the killler's methods, and indeed he got more than he bargained for. In fact he was lucky to get out of the visit intact.

Moss didn't limit his pursuit to Gacy. Simultaneous to his budding relationship with "The Killer Clown", he also established contact with Charles Manson, Richard Ramirez, Jeffrey Dahmer, and Henry Lee Lucas. In each instance he varied his approach based upon his reading of each of their criminal profiles. Manson sent a series of enigmatic notes and poems, and actually forwarded a suggested reading list. Dahmer asked for photos of Moss in compromising positions. The interaction with Lucas was the result of an invitation Moss received to interview him in Texas before his execution. The prolific murderer graced the occasion with a list of tips for the would-be serial killer. But Ramirez was the most cooperative of the bunch. Moss told him that he was the head of a Black Magick cult in Las Vegas, and "The Night Stalker" bought it hook, line and sinker. It wasn't long before Moss was extended the invitation to join Ramirez' Satanic Friends Network.

It's quite clear from the book that this peculiar project caused the youthful Moss much psychic pain. In the beginning of his quest he had a hugely inflated assessment of his own ability to deceive and manipulate these sociopaths. Under "normal" conditions, this type of naive hubris usually elicits mild corrections that contribute to one's emotional growth. In the adventures of Jason Moss, the stakes were much higher. He wasn't dealing with anything conventional society would describe as normal. Moss had been sheltered by his family and surroundings, and he was armed mostly just with his innate curiosity and a nascent ability to bullshit others. He was challenging a subset of society that had resisted all efforts to control them. Although he escaped the clutches of John Wayne Gacy, his audacity had serious consequences. On 6/6/06 (a date with obvious occult implications), Moss shot and killed himself.

Ann Rule, "The Stranger Beside Me" (1989 ed.)

The events surrounding the writing of The Stranger Beside Me would be almost completely unbelievable if they appeared on a television drama. As it is, author Ann Rule probably couldn't have made them up. Rule was a policewoman and writer of detective stories before she ever worked the late shift at a crisis center alongside one of the most notorious American serial killers of all time. She developed a friendship with the charming and attractive man that sat next to her in her office. Had she known about the secret activities of the only other person in the building on those working nights, she may well have refused to come back.

Over a period of years Ann Rule maintained a friendship with Ted Bundy. At the time, no one would guess that Bundy was capable of the horrifying crimes he would later be put to death for. He was a rising star of the Republican Party in Washington state. He had a degree in psychology and was about to pursue a law degree. All indications pointed to a bright future for the brilliant young man. But it was not to be. In the final days before he was executed, Bundy confessed to murdering thirty women, many of which he also raped- both before and after they were dead. The identities of ten of those were never discovered. Many authorities think that there were many more victims. Rule herself came to believe that Bundy had killed over 100. It was fortunate for Rule that she didn't fit Bundy's target profile. She was over a decade older than her friend, and lacked the beautiful vulnerability that Bundy searched for.

From Rule's account, it is not surprising that so many people believed in Bundy's innocence- even after he had been convicted of abduction and murder. He forever changed the science of criminal profiling. Although he was an illegitimate child, he claimed to have had a normal and relatively pleasant upbringing. Bundy had no serious criminal record as an adolescent. He had several normal heterosexual relationships, and was engaged to be married to two different women. He once saved a young child from drowning. Even the governor of Washington trusted him enough to employ him as one of his closest aides. Many who knew him considered him a perfect example of the "rags-to-riches"- Horatio Alger story. Yet there is some suspicion that Bundy took his first victim at age 16. The killer himself traces his first kidnapping attempt to 1969, when he was 23 years old.

As the authorities finally caught up to Ted Bundy, Ann Rule was working on her first full-length book, investigating the mysterious disappearances and murders of young women in the Seattle/Tacoma area. Little did she know how close she was to the story. She soon found herself in a peculiarly awkward position. Did she owe her loyalties to her accused friend, or would she be able to find the objectivity to complete her book? Rule and Bundy maintained a written and phone correspondence for over a decade after he was imprisoned. As more information about Bundy's crimes surfaced... as the evidence against him slowly accumulated into a mountain- Rule began to feel that Bundy was indeed guilty. The inner conflict over her friend's culpability is a subject that threads throughout the entire book.

The Stranger Beside Me is of substantial size. It includes background information about Bundy's early life. Rule describes her interaction with Bundy, but she also spends a lot of time outlining what is known about each victim and the crimes themselves. Much of the book describes the experiences Bundy had in various jails. There are accounts of the two successful escapes Bundy made in the West. After his second flight, Bundy traveled to Florida and resumed his campaign of horror. Rule follows his story right through the Chi Omega rampage, and the very last abduction and murder he would commit. Finally a large portion of the original edition was dedicated to the subsequent trials in Florida, and Bundy's legal maneuvers to prolong his life in the face of the death penalty. The 1989 edition that I read included several add-ons that brought the reader up to speed on Bundy's ultimate fate. The last update recounts his confession and execution.

It's fascinating to see the slow transition in Rule's position regarding Bundy's guilt. His power of persuasion was so advanced that the author couldn't accept the reality of the situation. This is understandable in light of recent research regarding psychopathy. Analysts that were charged with examining Bundy's mental state concluded that he had antisocial personality disorder. He was competent enough to represent himself in court, but lacked normal human empathy and compassion. Having recently dealt with an individual with this disorder (though one not nearly as talented or intelligent as Bundy), I can understand why so many people were taken in by his mask.

For more on Ted Bundy, refer to this earlier post.

Desperation in the Desert.

Ok... here's the situation: You have decided to take a cross country road trip with a close friend. You have made it half way across the broad expanse of the nation, and you realize you are well ahead of your schedule. You decide to act on a recommendation offered by a relative- take a look at Carlsbad Caverns. By the time you arrive at the national park that surrounds the attraction, it is too late for you to take the tour. Part of your pre-trip plans included spending some nights out underneath the starry skies, roughing it. You decide to take an evening walk down into Rattlesnake Canyon and pitch a tent for the night. Although you have gathered some rudimentary camping supplies, you aren't planning on spending a lot of time in the Canyon, and so you figure that the 80 ounces of water and Gatorade you pack will be plenty.

When you awake early the next morning, having used up all but a pint of your water, you gather your gear and start your hike back to your car. However as the sun rises and brings its brutal desert heat, you have difficulty finding your way back out the way you had entered the evening before. You climb a rise, but see nothing that looks like civilization. Now you have expended the remainder of your water, and you are no closer to getting out. A whole afternoon is spent before you resign yourselves to spending another night in the park.

Luckily you had been required to fill out forms for a camping permit, and despite the fact that the ranger that collected your information seemed like a greenhorn, you have confidence that park staff will realize that you were due a day earlier and soon come to look for you. At this point your strength has been sapped, and you are starting to become dehydrated. For the last twenty-four hours, you have relied solely on the nourishment of under-ripe prickly pears. After three days in the heat, you are beginning to get desperate. Your companion is getting progressively weaker, and is retching bile that you have to clear from his mouth with your own hand. You decide that getting fined for arson is preferable to perishing of thirst, and so you break the rules to start a signal fire. Disconcertingly, the smoke barely reaches the top of the canyon. You are slowly losing all hope.

On the fourth day, it is clear that you are not going to be rescued. It's extremely difficult to witness your friend going through the slow excruciating process of dying. In desperation, he turns to you and requests that you bury your pocketknife in his chest, thus ending his misery. At first you refuse, but he manages to bring forth the words around his swollen tongue and out of his dryly- cracked mouth. He looks at you pleadingly, and begs you to end his suffering- "Put your knife through my chest." What do you do?

Perhaps you do as Raffi Kodikian did under these circumstances in the summer of 1999- you commit an act that you've never even imagined you'd be asked to perform... a mercy-killing. Can you conceive of the weight of your guilt when you are discovered by a ranger only hours after you've taken your best friend's life? And later, after an hour in the hospital, you are charged with the murder of your friend. Kodikian faced life imprisonment (or worse) for his actions. Despite the fact that his friends, and even the family of the deceased David Coughlin, never doubted his intentions... there was media speculation that Kodikian had other motives for his "crime". His lawyers knew he had no recourse to a temporary insanity charge in New Mexico, so they had to come up with an alternative defense.

These events are recounted in detail in Jason Kersten's Journal of the Dead (2003). No stone is left unturned in the examination of the case- the history of friendship that Kodikian and Coughlin shared, a travel journal providing crucial evidence, and the resulting trial itself. While the amount of true insight contained in the book seems a bit thin to justify its moderate length- it is still an interesting read. I think it's inevitable that the reader will ask him/herself how (s)he would have acted in the circumstances that confronted Raffi Kodikian. At the same time, it's natural to question the way society views and casts judgment in such a situation. Providing Kodikian's account of his time in that canyon is true- is it justifiable to bring murder charges against him? How can we construct laws that fairly deal with such an improbable eventuality? And what do our conclusions say about ourselves?

Victor Hassine, "Life Without Parole" (2nd Ed. -1999)

Why did I pick up inmate Victor Hassine's Life Without Parole: Living in Prison Today? I'm always interested in hearing firsthand accounts of what it's like to be locked up. I'm also fascinated by any account of the choices people make when they are in a crisis situation. I think it's fair to say that being incarcerated is akin to being in a "crisis situation". The rules are obviously different behind bars as opposed to being out on the streets. The prisoner is surrounded by those who chose to break society's laws. To survive and keep one's dignity, it's important to project an image of strength. Whether or not the authors of such books relate the unmitigated truth, the reader experiences the flavor of an extreme and foreign environment. These works are rarely ever boring.

Hassine's book is especially interesting because he is serving a life term without the possibility of parole in the Pennsylvania state prison system. Since 1981, he has tried to make a home at SCI-Graterford (outside Philadelphia) and SCI- Pittsburgh (also referred to as Western Penitentiary). Additionally he has lived at SCI-Camp Hill and SCI-Rockview (his most current residence). Therefore he has substantial experience with the specific conditions of punitive institutions in the state where I live. Aside from convicted cop killer Mumia Abu-Jamal (currently held at SCI-Greene in Waynesburg), I know of no other contemporary inmates in Pennsylvania that have authored books.

Victor Hassine's story is an unusual one, as far as criminals are concerned. He is a naturalized citizen and originally from Egypt. He grew up Jewish in Trenton, NJ. In 1980 he graduated from New York Law School. Shortly after finishing his degree, he was accused and convicted of hiring a hitman to kill a man over a drug dispute. The victim survived, but in the process an innocent man died. With no prior record to speak of, Hassine entered the correctional system with a large amount of fear. As a naive "fish" he had no choice but to quickly learn how to survive in his new environment.

Life Without Parole begins with a chapter entitled "How I became a Convict". Hassine doesn't dwell on the actions that caused him to end up in prison, but rather describes in detail how he was processed, classified and integrated into the general population. He outlines his initial feelings and his strategy for protecting himself. Being neither wholly black nor white, there were no easy affiliations for him to make. Early on he pissed away a prized job working as a clerk in the Major's office- all because he was tempted by a freshly cooked contraband hamburger. After a period of time trying to insulate himself with books and painting in his cell, he was convinced by an "old head" (wise inmate) that he needed to engage the life he could not escape. Apparently being a loner with lots of possessions in prison is a recipe for victimization. (Hassine cautions that a new inmate is especially vulnerable because he is prone to sleeping through the morning, while the doors of his cell remains unlocked. This makes him a target for rape, theft, or other forms of brutalization by prison predators.)

As the months passed by, Hassine's observations about his fellow inmates, his captors, and the system began to coalesce. He started recording his thoughts and ideas on paper, and eventually he collected them into Life Without Parole. It is divided into three sections: "Prison Life", "Interviews", and "Op Ed". In the second part, Hassine gives some of his fellow convicts the opportunity to tell their stories. Through these segments Hassine explores issues such as sexual victimization, AIDS, medication as a means of control, the changing nature of solitary confinement, and the conflict between "old heads" and the new arbitrarily-violent inmates who have nothing to lose. Perhaps the most affecting story is related by Hassine himself- he recounts his role as a witness to a particularly savage incident during a riot at Western Penitentiary.

In the "Op Ed" chapters, Hassine seizes the opportunity to address what he sees as the biggest challenges facing prison administrators today. He identifies overcrowding as the most significant problem in contemporary prisons. He believes that every other difficulty can ultimately be traced back to this factor. Rape comes in a multitude of forms, but is made much easier by doubling the occupancy of cells originally designed to house one inmate. The relationship between prisoners and guards is steadily deteriorating as tired and frustrated guards pull overtime shifts to compensate for staffing shortages. Staffs are losing control of the prisons, as they exhaust their limited resources in just trying to meet the basic needs of those incarcerated. There is no longer any money available for rehabilitation or treatment of criminals. And Hassine maintains that this situation is like a "runaway train". The consequences of overcrowded prisons will eventually spill out into the society-at-large.

Although Life Without Parole is a slim volume, and its authorial voice often comes across as surprisingly detached, it is not without its merits. Those looking for a book that combines personal anecdotes with a touch of academia will be pleased and edified by Hassine's writing style. (Evidently Life Without Parole is being used as a college text in Criminology courses- a fact which explains the multiple editions and the $42.95 price) Additionally, Pennsylvania residents will find the local associations meaningful. I recommend it with mild reservations.