Bundy. Gacy. Kemper. Dahmer. Berkowitz. Gein. Ramirez.
These men and the atrocities they committed are so ingrained in the American culture that even without listing a first name, most readers can identify them.
Over the weekend, I watched the Netflix series “Conversations with a Killer: The Ted Bundy Tapes.”
I was horrified, fascinated, shocked, appalled — and then all of a sudden, I was at the end of the four-hour series.
Why did it hold my interest for so long? I was curious about that, so I Googled it. I was interested in the show, but not to the degree that some people were — women in particular.
Netflix issued a notice on Twitter asking people to please stop lusting after Bundy.
“I’ve seen a lot of talk about Ted Bundy’s alleged hotness and would like to gently remind everyone that there are literally THOUSANDS of hot men on the service — almost all of whom are not convicted serial murderers,” read the Tweet, referring to the Netflix streaming service.
I spent a bit of time reading up on articles by psychologists theorizing why serial killers hold the public’s interest. Because I’ve watched interviews with Jeffrey Dahmer. I watched the HBO Special “The Iceman: Confessions of a Mafia Hitman” about Richard Kuklinski.
I watch crime shows, too, like “Law & Order,” “Criminal Minds” and “The Blacklist.”
Until this Bundy series, I never really stopped to think about why.
Here’s what I think: To me, it’s interesting because it’s over.
In the Bundy series, the show ends shortly after his execution. To simplify, good has triumphed over evil.
Right around fifth grade, we learned about literary devices, and conflict and resolution. Conflict drives a narrative forward; resolution is when the conflict is overcome. Man versus man, man versus nature or man versus self.
Most of the time, when watching a television show, everything is neatly wrapped up in an hour, the bad guy almost always gets what’s coming to him and the victim’s family has a catharsis, closure, a chance to walk away from the heartache knowing justice has been served.
We all know reality is nothing like that. But isn’t it nice to harbor the illusion, even for an hour at a time?
Now, 30 years after his execution, it is easier to see Bundy as the depraved and compassionless rapist and murderer who strangled and mutilated his victims, and defiled their corpses.
At the time, scores of women were charmed by his looks and didn’t believe someone who looked so handsome and clean cut could do the horrific things he did. Maybe it would be easier to believe it if his outward appearance were a reflection of the ugliness within?
A few years back, I watched with fascination the rise of “hot mug shot guy” Jeremy Meeks to fame. This man, a convicted felon and former member of the Crips, had done prison time for a violent assault on a teenager.
He was wanted by the Stockton Police Department in California. He was known as one of the most violent criminals in Stockton. Police released his mugshot to the public. And it went viral, not because of his crimes, but because of his looks. And now he is a model making around $1 million a month.
I think about those law enforcement officers in Stockton, and how disgusted they must be. They risk their lives trying to bring someone to justice, and now the guy is rich and famous because he’s considered to be cute.
I’m not sure what the answer is to this dilemma, but I know one thing. I teach my daughter to respect herself, and to look past the surface of a person to see what’s inside.
I hope that’s what other parents teach their children, too.
Think of the world of flowers, and the gorgeous purple bloom of the Aconitum, or the “devil’s helmet.” The flower is beautiful, but deadly. Should one consume it in a large enough dose, death is almost instantaneous.
Think now of the rather plain aloe vera plant and all the good it can do.
Maybe nature was trying to tell us something. And maybe it’s time we listen.
(Schellhammer is the Era’s associate editor. She can be reached at marcie@bradfordera.com)
