If you click the link below, or here, you can take a little test to discover whether or not you are a potential serial killer.
Indrid scored an 11-anything 1-10 score wise is...acceptable. Above that and perhaps you're the kind of bloke or bugger that folks have liked...but there's something about you that maybe-unsettles them. Or perhaps you're trolling the highways at night in a dark blue van looking for someone to satisfy something that is ultimately nameless inside you.
In fact, Indrid realized after taking the test that one question was answered incorrectly-now the idea of retaking it is...unpalatable, as the score may increase.
Or is that such a bad thing after all?
The thing about evil is not so much as it's the embracing of the bad things, the scary things, the cruel things in the world-evil is the idea that there is no good or evil. That they are constructs of human thought and not absolutes.
It is here in this zone the serial killer of any intellect probably deals. One lacking in intellect perhaps more is on the level of the animals, blindly enacting an impulse it does not understand. The one that thinks through what it wants is simply setting aside questions of good or bad and dealing only in what IT wants is the evil one.
Evil.
Recently Indrid happened upon the rather silly movie Ghost Ship, starring the lovely but rather bland Juliana Margulies and the always interesting and underused in this movie Gabriel Byrne.
The movie has some scares and a good deal of juicy gore, but it fails to satisfy except in this idea that is central to the plot-there is a particular harbinger of evil and it goes through reality as we know it masked as a man.
In the movie he enters as an innocent seeming, maybe even bumbling character, and among the males in the cast is the least alpha. They let him tag along for the ride. Then you piece together at a key point his place in all of it and you realize he's the demonic puppetmaster bringing everyone to their doom-doing it by appealing to their greed and or vanity.
It's an idea that exists all through fiction, this hidden evil that comes to shocking revelation at the climax of the story.
When you take a test to see if you'd qualify as a serial killer profile-wise and the score is...indeterminate, shall we say-then you have to muse for a while on the mercurial flow of evil through humans in society. Who's smiling face at work conceals nonstop thoughts of blood and death. Who is in church behind you fantasizing about boys under the age of 10. How many babies did that kindly old lady smother back in her child-bearing years?
Some of us have no secrets of import. Some of us carry enough in our dark leathery bag that in old age our shoulders may slope from the weight, and in death we might be the ones whose skulls are most clearly defined beneath the waxy skin as we lay in repose.
Have a happy Sunday!
