It's 7:10 AM in my neck o the woods and thus far this morning I've been slapped in the face by a previously nuzzling on my chest in bed and being adorable cat (that's what I get for naming her Junkie, I suppose), tripped into a door frame and banged my knee while seeing the hubs off to work, and snapped myself in the eye with an elastic headband while prepping to wash the old face...it is, however, raining outside for the first time in months, I get to go take Jess to school here in a minute, I discovered PBS's series on the Medicis last night which kicked my ass with so much new and astounding information I dreamed of red velvet, pearls, massive broken marble arms, and winged flying machines last night, and
I get to not only talk with my bff, Cory, tonight, but with writer/director/producer of the most incredible serial killer docs I've ever seen,
John Borowski.
Life is good, especially with
The Rattles playing non-stop in my brain and especially because I'm not Albert Fish...oh my fuck.
I had to stop at least three times during my viewing of Borowski's Fish documentary just to breathe...now, you know I love me some psychopathy. Not up close and personal if at all possible but it is one of my areas of study and obsession as I believe that psychopaths or sociopaths or whichever term you prefer are responsible for the vast majority of horrifically bad shit that happens on this planet, both micro and macrocosmically. Fish, however...not a psychopath, per se, and unlike a Manson or Jones or Jeffs or Robertson or Gingrich ad infinitum who knowingly use (d) religion to manipulate others for personal gain, Fish reminds me of the tales I've read of 12th-15th century "saints" and their confessors and their sadomasochistic eroticization of their intense and delusional devotion to the eucharist and their desire to internalize the goodness and innocence it represented to them, and for Fish, that was the bodies and blood of innocent children. As opposed to a true psychopath, Fish reeks of a mind born wired for schizotypal delusions whose flames were fanned by Catholicism and early childhood abuse where he learned to eroticize his own pain and the pain of others...both a sadist and a masochist...both a pedophiliac cannibal and a devoted family man...both utterly revolting and oddly pathetic at the same time. Borowski did a beautiful job bringing these contradictions across on screen and, on a side note, the interviews with
Joe Coleman were insightful to say the least. I love what he said at the end about how people like Fish and their, um, peculiarities shouldn't be swept under the carpet and ignored because they make people uncomfortable...they need to be studied, discussed, explored, and in Coleman's case, transformed into some of the most complex and detailed art I've ever encountered. Thanks to my hubs for turning me on to Mr. Coleman's work on our first date:)
Catch Fish on Netflix if you get a chance. Then, make sure you have something soft to hug and something happy to watch or read...Oddly, the tumultuous yet captivating tale of the Medicis did it for me.
It's all relative, I suppose, and even somewhat related if you consider the Medici's temporary takeover of the Vatican....fucking mobsters, yo...kept expecting Big Pussy to show up at one of Pope Leo's orgies dressed in a track suit, surrounded by dancers from Badabing, ready to bust some fuckin skulls.
The more things change, the more they stay the same.
Psychopaths..I'm telling you....weed them out and see how much calmer things could be..genuine human flourishing could occur for all, not just a few. We have the technology...just sayin....
Have a wicked good day and if you get a chance,
tune in tonight to the Smut Elves podcast with Cory, John, and me, and if we're lucky, maybe Tom Lodewyck will grace us with his awesome presence to talk about playing Carl Panzram in Borowski's latest doc.
I'm off to work on
Viscera stuff and listen to the rain for as long as it lasts! Woohoo!!!
XOXOXOXOXOXO
