Murder Ballads "The Great American substitute for social revolution is murder" Walter Dean Burnham
When I was nine years Chikatillo pasted a picture of a wall of my room. It was a clipping from a magazine Very Interesting review that virtually was formally signed at that time. That number has a story in itself, having become an object of veneration of three vying to read it during breaks. The specimen is found in the library of San Juan, and had been love at first sight. By then Juanita and I had made friends with a boy named Ignacio, but we called James, by the strange habit of calling by the name which prevailed in the school (I myself was known as the Acevedo ). James and I talked in this post , character who always seemed to have experienced the horror firsthand, while we barely see him from banners atisbábamos entrabiertas. He appeared with George Romero, the Necronomicon, the aliens, the game of the cup, and yes, eventually the murderers. Was almost as if he had brought the items imported from another school, where it appears the fascination was pervasive among their peers. Juani had always been half-vane, and his enthusiasm for the forensic sciences lasted like his Rollers, his skill with the pellet, carpenter pants or ownership in the Pucarú. For my part, I already showed signs of a quality or defect which continues to characterize me today: my ability to make simple likes and dislikes in religion. In repeated episodes of my life, I happened to be introduced by someone in a particular subject, taste, or activity and not delay to beat the teacher, becoming shy or enthusiastic recommendation that a way of life. I had already gone to Peter Lamas and Tolkien, my friends from college and Goodfellas, and certainly with James and his murderers. Certainly you have tried certain drugs, would be the perfect character full of remorse to the person who introduced the first gramito, the first puff, or the first peak.
Thus, in a matter of months I had become someone who gathered information murderers like a bird wanting to make a nest with such quantity of clippings and photocopies. Had even rented a book of Psychology-Law from my current perspective-behavioral recognize as horribly, which I read many chapters, more than not understanding a lot of technical language or saline (I could understand just blanks regarding the lobe front, cortisol and the like).
But most have gotten much more detailed and professional, always ended up falling into the same magazine that in many page changes its hooks no longer could bear, and raising their arms en gesto de hastío, convirtiendo aquello en un alboroto de hojas, apenas mantenido en orden por una cinta elástica. Al principio nos habíamos contentado con fotocopiar la considerable cantidad de páginas que llenaban la revista. Luego de un tiempo eso no bastó y terminé robándome el ejemplar. Fue un hecho gracioso, porque la misma tarde Jacobo o Juani, no recuerdo, se dispusieron a robarla, enterándose más tarde que les había ganado de mano. Ahora, repasando aquel artículo, uno se da cuenta de que no era gran cosa y difícilmente hablaba de algo que ya no se hubiera dicho sobre asesinos. Sin embargo, lo que más compraba a uno era la documentación fotográfica, llena de aquellas imágenes de hombres wide-eyed, burly Americans dressed as a clown, pony-crested, bearded, with swastikas tattooed between his eyebrows. Beyond Charles Manson, who already had some pop iconography, topped by the ridiculous shirt that used to carry Axl Rose (and in a time where the gaudy skirt man was the closest thing to God), I loved my photo Chikatillo, especially the picture completely sick that his face shone. You realized that there must be some stink behind his incarceration late (as eventually proved by the truce imposed by integrating the Communist ranks), because you see any of your photos, and since their appearance it is impossible not to arouse suspicion of a sordid past or present course.
There was no need the mediums of Minority Report, one could have seen his face jail before any tragedy has taken place. The photo I attached what my parents took him to realize who was the nice man with no eyebrows looking at me from the other side of the room (about five days.) Looking back, the paste on the wall should not be much for the dark-but clearly-pubescent crush on this sleazy character, but rather to a desire collector, as a man who loves butterflies, but only to keep dried and showcases. In my case, I dreamed of having a wall covered in photos of murderers, newspaper clippings, and giant identikits city maps with pins red, blue and green on the places where the events occurred. Anyway, you wanted to be, if not a detective, an expert on the subject.
The years followed and my fascination with murderers is delayed with the new weapons offered by the internet. Had finally agreed to gruesome images of crime scenes, and my having had pictures of Shannon Tate, the dismemberment of Jeffrey Dahmer, or the lifeless bodies of young girls of Ted Bundy, one against which were generally perceived to be uncomfortably beautiful.
My fascination with The X-Files did not help to divest myself of these issues, and certainly the obsession remained for a long time, even being one of the main drivers to enroll in graduate school of psychology.
Over time, James was given completely to the liberation of Palestine and the anarchist cause and Juani and did not know what things he liked. I, however, had decided it would be a forensic psychologist.
is strange to see my girlfriend now studying legal psychology, while I gave up those old passions in order to arrive at the most clinical.
In a way, is a barometer to measure how much one has changed over the years.
However, there is something parmenece there must be one of the only ones to see a picture of Onoprienko, or Otis Toole feels no fascination, fear or rejection, but sweet nostalgia.
In a matter of years, music, literature and cinema were to play an increasingly dominant in my life, leaving a bit out of such criminological issues, psychological and related. However, reconciling and in some ways with my old obsessions, films about murderers abound in my video library, but not detective novels, which I always found it difficult to sink his eye.
I like to go to a movie underground in Lithuania, but in my opinion, the murderers movie was, and will for a long time, The Silence of the Lambs . Note that the mention in its literal translation, and not as "The Silence of the Lambs", part of the compendium of Castilianized pitiful that seem to have a dictionary available to thirty words. It's a shame that movies like this fall to selective myopia translators, who forget that in this case, the English title takes on a much more profound and the obvious psychological fence of the word "innocent." Indeed, unlike the commonly-praised performance that Hopkins yes, it's great, "what distinguishes this film from any genre serial killer movie, Hannibal Lecter is to kick the ball in field of the star, making that a personal search for a murderer which they differ from the stereotyped image noir detective haunted by his past. However, many blood-fictional and real, had to run under the bridge for the refined gentleman Lecter was made a place in the Hall of Fame.
Beyond the concept serial killer is considerably recently, with other names in history has been rife with characters who could rightly be classified as serial murderers. Possibly even the great monsters of the past, such as Dracula, werewolves, etc. strains could be seamlessly and poetic narratives of those big eaters lives. It is my intention to make an extensive review of these murderers, after all, you can probably find more detailed information on the website of a fan of a band of Funeral Doom, but most of all, link them to the different reverberations in popular culture, being the film and music via efferent possibly par excellence of the pop culture of the last century (if any pop out of the twentieth century) -. Fits the historical introduction like a glove because the first film registers precisely serial murderers of the horror film from the 20 'and 30' with Vlad Tepes and its various incarnations, either the most primitive Murneau Nosferatu, or subsequent, more wizened , elegant and romantic Draculas, topping the list of importance and validity. However, getting dates, I think the first movie about a serial murderer is a great M, the vampire of Dusseldorf . Fritz Lang's film is ahead, perhaps too ahead of its time, and a nudge to hollywoodcentrismo of many critics who consider The Shadow of a Doubt (Hitchcock) the first movie based on a serial murderer. Beyond this question of dates and awards, Hitchcock more than a grain of sand, provided some few islands and mountains to adapt to the screen murderers. The aforementioned Shadow of a Doubt -which inspired one of the most fascinating of Sonic Youth-girl protagonist faces the dilemma of his love-quite incestuous, incidentally, to his uncle and disclosure of he is a murderer willing to kill widows, if necessary to maintain its secrecy. After this, came Psycho, Norman Bates in part inspired by Ed Gein (very creative murderer it must have been without so many deaths under his belt, one of the most inspiring chronicle murderers of American red-Buffalo Bill, Leatherface, etc.) and Frenzy, with clear echoes of Albert de Salvo, the Boston Strangler, with subtlety to kill with a tie instead of nylon stockings of his victims.
Peeping Tom or Peeping Tom , also directed by an Englishman (Michael Powell), is credited with humanizing the murderer, doing an archaeological journey of his life, marked by the coldness of a father who was to be his most ambitious experiment, a researcher at the fear and psychophysiological relations (Something like a terrifying and hypertrophied version of what might have resulted Jean Piaget for their poor children.) The issue became a genealogical compulsory subject, not only in many horror films, but in forensic studies, and eventually ended up becoming a cliché as crass as a psychologist talking about teenagers in Good day Uruguay. A film that just happens to wipe thousands of its time, delving into the humanity of the character, but not falling into that easy to explain, is Butcher, Chabrol, who has the huge merit of driving the idea of \u200b\u200ba murderer sensitive, even lovable que se entremezcla en una relación amorosa con la protagonista. En ningún momento se plantea la pelotudez de personalidades múltiples, en ningún momento se planea una historia plagada de violaciones o demás justificativos, en ningún momento uno llega a pensar que el cortejo hacia Audran es un mero rodeo para un eventual asesinato. No, El carnicero es una historia de amor con un asesino múltiple. Otra que maneja cierta economía de recursos y que mantiene una tensión ambigua que la convierte de las mejores del género es Henry, retrato de un asesino. La película está propiamente inspirada en Henry Lee Lucas, posiblemente uno de los asesinos más volubles y cirqueros que hayan existed in history, but no less brutal. When he was captured by police was charged just a dozen murders, but then, including the arena of Otis Toole, the less bright, but not least fuck-buddy and fluctuating lover, the guy started talking and that The scene was like water uncovered in Conversation, Francis Ford Coppola . The numbers began to rise and were passing the tens and hundreds up to the ridiculous figure of five hundred people. Besides this, Henry Lee began to admit children to provide international Satanic cults and the officers began to think that the one-eyed half as he had gone to the bike. The nature fucking and Lucas media are added the anniversaries of his relationship with Toole, with small delights of everyday life and the fact that he did not share the cannibal like the pony, saying simply that he did not like barbecue sauce made him the flesh of their victims. In any case, Henry Lee Lucas was finished round a process of incorporation of the murderer, pop culture, that from the Jack the Ripper was growing from a few years, something they have tried to show movies such as naturally Murderers -adaptation of the bloody path of Charlie Starkweather and Fugate Caril teen, which is somewhat redundant overexposure of this idea, and the most fucked up, but less known here occurred near his home , Belgian film revolves around a reality show multiple murderer. Being a golden goose, Greil Marcus in Lipstick Traces speaking in Marxist terms this escalation pop precisely the most successful mass murderer: "But then Theodore Bundy was at forty, Henry Lee Lucas claimed one hundred eighty-eight victims, after six hundred. Inflation exceeded any possibility of meaning, the only usefulness of a murder was their exchange value. " Even
carbon chains are connected, and Starkweather was obsessed with film, specifically the James Dean of Rebel Without a Cause -just look at pictures from when he was arrested to realize.
In some ways, the short and noisy tour of the murderer of Nebraska is the director's cut Nicholas Ray could never have filmed in the fifty United States. See how death, especially death and non-fiction sells both, one is the idea that the number of films based on serial murderers, the enthusiasm of some people to know all the methods of torturers, the interest to follow track a murderer or an unsolved case, not due to the reassuring idea of learn to not happen again, but the uncomfortable notion of register, at least unconsciously, not on the side of the victim but the perpetrator. As the obsession with infidelity, murder on the screen in sheet music or hide the urge to take a walk-in belt-cold murderer within us, even though we are vegan GreenPeace, and we have under our belt the complete discography of Jorge Drexler.
would lack a lot of movies, but the post, rather than film buff or just kinky, it raises the question: Do serial murderers well adapted to musical language? Beyond
that the genesis of chronic red found in the music, conducted by the bards of other times, "the murderers in this language are often used as mere archetypes of manhood rock and lobotomized, metaphors of romantic love taken to the final dimensions of the body, shock tactics, or mere snobbery offender. Metal is a machine that spewed out of subgenres requires only the registration form in a bit of darkness and murderers have their little plot in this realm, the term Metal Murder, a thematic classification stylistic led by such bands as Macabre or Japan Church of misery. Most of the themes of these bands are shit, and should be treated with the same seriousness as Bani lyrics Chemical (although the Argentines are much more funny and entertaining). Likewise, listening to tracks such as Cradle of Filth -inspired many in Bathory-or Guyana (The Cult of the Damned) Manowar-based Jim Jones witty, guy named partially Brian Jonestown Massacre ", you think of throwing in the towel.
However, there are some cases that would be rescued. Indeed, I made a compilation of songs by murderers, mainly trying to cover a few chips marked red chronicle of this century, and trying to maintain a level of more or less good songs. In addition to this, as fetishist myself, I took the trouble to do a front and back, so that whoever wants to have it proudly on the shelf, may have something better than a written Benq liquid paper. Here
the playlist ordered by murderer / band / song, respectively:
01-Charles Manson: Sonic Youth / Death Valley 69 '
02-Jeffrey Dahmer: At the drive in / Arcarsenal
03-Charlie Starkweather: Bruce Springsteen / Nebraska
04-Lee Shelton: Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds / Stagger Lee
05-David Berkowitz: Elliott Smith / Son of Sam
06-Ian Brady & Myra Hindley: The Smiths / Suffer Little Children
07-Albert de Salvo: Rolling Stones / Midnight Rambler
08-Brenda Ann Spencer: Boomtown Rats / I Do not Like Mondays 09-Gary Ridgway
: Neko Case / Deep Red Bells
10-John Wayne Gacy: Sufjan Stevens / John Wayne Gacy jr.
11-Zodiac killer: Melvins / Zodiac
12-Edmund Kemper: Throbbing Gristle / Urge to kill
13-Bonus track: Suicide / Frankie teardrop
(if names were missing Albert Fish, Onoprienko, Jerry Brudos, Dennis Nielsen, Unabomber, Rifkin, Speck, Garavito, Willliam Suff, Pichushky, you do not have songs really worth listening)
Morrissey is on the line of the best lyricists of recent times, and certainly knows how to take the lead in the songs inspired by famous murderers. Suffer Little Children is in the band's self-titled album, and is inspired by the famous Moor-murders were buried where most of the victims, "perpetuated by Ian Brady and Myra Hindley in England. The dynamics are focused primarily on Hindley blond children being tricked a wasteland where Brady's usually her boyfriend raped or strangled. The types continued with this foolproof way for a few years, reaching record tape the cries of a ten year old girl who abducted and murdered, sacándole also some pictures of his body. However, as the majority of serial murderers, eventually becoming too enthusiastic for his own good and in a chaotic context murder had to rely on confidentiality David Smith, Hindley's brother in law, did not hesitate to contact the police. Indeed, that cover so many of us love and we printed on T-shirts, I mean the cover of the Goo - is a photo of that Smith and his wife, the sister of Hindley, after testifying in the trial circus the bloody family. 
Morrissey, who for the time the murders should have four or five years, must have built the fear of those times, at least, their parents, "resurgent and adapting one of its many beautiful letters. The most interesting thing Suffer Little Children is the way it is organized the letter, embodying the voice of everyone involved, from Hindley to the poor victims, through the tears of the mother of one of them. Do not skimp on naming names and there is no loose ends. Or maybe the opposite, presents it to everyone, but in a vague, almost floating, which is what creates one of the most disturbing emotions, yet beautiful song. Maybe because they made a few four hand-songs with Morrissey and Marr writing letters, taking them to music, there is usually a disconcerting ambiguity, but not shocking in the melodies of the guitars and lyrical nature. Precisely, Suffer Little Children one never does know what kind of song is that, jumping between the tears, the song of children's play and mere gruesome perversion. In reality it is rather distinctive of the Smiths, with devastating lyrical songs and melodies that accompany not just in sentiment, but end up producing something qualitatively different and nuvo. The two most fucked come when the song appears on scene Myra Hindley (Hindley wakes and Hindley says / Hindley wakes, Hindley wakes, Hindley wakes, and says: / "Oh, Wherever I've gone, I Have Gone" ), taking its share something very vague, as if incorporation into a scene from a silent film actress, as if the terrifying event lightly remembered for one child. The second moment that freezes the blood, is the final chorus of the dead, with the cries of the children lost in the music, creating a breathtaking effect similar to the theme The Kids , Uncle Reed.
No less startling is the representation of John Wayne Gacy performed by Sufjan Stevens. Ezekiel maintains the sympathetic Stevens is the germ of all that is wrong with the indie, and without confirmation, I admit it has its reasons, but songs how are you preventing me join your company SSSFD (Sufjan Stevens Should Fucking Die). Possibly this is a song by his feelings, melody and darkness does not deserve a guy so fucking much like Gacy and yes one more dramatic upset and Jeffrey Dahmer (which is not the coldness sadistic Pogo the clown, but a gay drama want to retain, even dead, "a person who never ever gets to breakfast in bed. In Gacy already talked enough, being the main inspiration for the expected crap It By Stephen King, a type that already do not like, has the horrible habit of creating the most absurd end of the world and spectacularly stupid.
The song handles the subject with sensitivity overflowing unimagined peaks reaching for a white glove type of Stevens, in verses like "Look underneath the house there / Find the FEW Living Things, rotting fast, in Their sleep / Oh, the dead (...) He'd kill ten Thousand people / With a historical sleight of hand / Running far, running fast to the dead / He Took off all Their clothes for them / I put a cloth on Their lips / Quiet hands, quiet kiss on the mouth ". As mentioned underneath the There house refers to the infamous basement where Gacy tortured and raped most of his victims, as Stevens says, Twenty-seven people / Even more, They Were boys / With their cars, summer jobs / Oh my God . The tour de force of the song comes in the final stanza, in which, after being shocked with committed by Gacy, acknowledges that the fund does not make much difference to him.
Behavior And in my best
I am really just like him Look beneath the floor
boards For the secrets i have hid
At the slightest reference to Poe there is something beyond the letter that you bristle up the ass, and the dissonance of the piano is final. It should be one of the largest uses of chiaroscuro have heard: a one, maybe just like with the song of the Smiths, it is difficult to match the sweet tone with horrifying content that is behind the lyrics, and yet, when it ends the last line and get that piano, completely changes the atmosphere, and leaves open the mystery as David Lynch might have done in the final episode of Twin Peaks , or dramatic tones, instead of mysterious, Ettore Scola la, until the final two minutes comic Gross, Ugly and Dirty.
In line mismatch between content and melody, is the subject of Boomtown Rats, a band that seems unbearable general criteria, and is best known for having been led by Bob Geldof, who as we all know too well. In this case appears to be a little shit, and with some kind of nerve do rock opera inspired by a shooting committed by Brenda Ann Spencer in the late seventies. As good Americans, parents of Spencer, for his birthday sixteen chose for her, instead of a radio, as she had asked, "something far more instructive and stimulating as a rifle. The mine had learned quickly, and I used to practicing with cans, bottles and ducks. However, it was known as the new William Tell, but by a famous incident, and especially by a sentence connected to it, that just inspire the song, that rocked San Diego not long after. One day, Brenda pulled out the rifle and as a good sniper began shooting people from his home to the door of his school (which apparently was in front). He came to kill the director and a janitor, also injuring six children. The Spencer house was besieged for about six hours, and when finally it was able to capture, interrogation offered small gems like "I had no particular preference, I was guided mainly by red and blue jackets." When asked why he did it, respondión "I do not like Mondays." A I do not like acting my displeasure in not giving my seat to women on the bus, but hey, everyone has their own way of catharsis.
The list also includes unquestionably Nebraska, Bruce Springsteen, a song that appears in the self-titled album, which is probably the best that The Boss has made to date. No one can dispute the ability of Springsteen storyteller, but I would like to emphasize the influence, which recognizes and it shows tremendously in certain parts of the disk-of Suicide. One would might seem strange, but the legacy of a band as avant la lettre as Suicide, prefigures not only in any electronic record that was made from the seventies, but guys who do-things-apparently diametrically opposed. Not so much on this issue, but State trooper, one can recognize some elements of Frankie Teardrop, as some unexpected screams of Springsteen Vega-like moments that saturate the speakers, and a repetitive guitar mimics of way, the mesmerizing synths and drum machines of Rev. Martin In all Springsteen albums you can see some repetition of topics such as the desire for freedom, family situations or economically fucked up, or a past that comes in small gestures and carverianamente Stoics details characters. Is part of that mythical reconstruction United States, the United States and poor interior, which is the roots of folk, blues, perhaps all the popular music of that country. And precisely this issue does not come out of that line, with the frantic destiny of two young fans of James Dean (Starkweather and Fugate, of which was already speaking) a search for a free radical, so radical that it is deadly for the other lives. In these reconstructions
mythical as a frontman Nick Cave is not far behind, a guy more obsessed with the fate of a nation, with biblical imagery and vocation she properly transmitted by his father, a pastor in his early years in Australia. Nick Cave takes a post with a long tradition of troubadours, singing about the adventures of Stagger Lee, inspired in part in the life of Lee Sheldon. Stagger Lee is inspired by Fiol shot dead a colleague in a bar brawl. Stagger Lee What is striking is precisely the question of myth, by the side of which, besides being a murderer practically insignificant next to thousands of murderers far more cruel and prolific, is a guy who has inspired thousands of versions, among including bands like The Clash, The Grateful Death, Bob Dylan, Duke Ellington and Nico Cave itself, each adding new features and more violence. Indeed, in the version Cave concentrates on the most violent in history, including blow jobs and all. Like a broken telephone, a mediocre murderer ended up becoming passionate archetype of virility, pushed to its maximum and violent consequences. Sonic Youth
follow this path, with a band that has always been obsessed with combining elements of high culture to American pop life. Are ample evidence Ciccone Youth album, The crucifixion of Sean Penn and an endless list of references. The Bad Moon Rising (specifically, a title referring to a Creedence song, another very American band) was a return to the origins of rock, only seen by other lens, as Nietzsche would have done, that everything had desenterrao Dionysian Greeks apecto so many anthropologists had tried to cover up, by a desire to maintain a rational pensamieno founding heritage of the West. Bad Moon Rising, and especially Death Valley 69 ' is to explore that side of the day not illuminated by the sun.
Manson clan's crimes were a turning point of something that has been brewing for a few years ago, and like killing two birds with one stone, made two myths collide with happiness that had permeated the youth that time: the end the hippie utopia and the dream world of Hollywood. Indeed, in 1969, began to sweep the confetti of the French May, the Rolling Stones show the other side of hippie festivals in the fateful free concert in San Francisco and recorded the famous deaths in Shannon Tate-LaBianca well i think who know the story. The genius of Death Valley 69 ' is that since writing is almost unreadable, it looks like patchwork of experiences and dreams slipping through the fingers, with images and phrases that are neutral in themselves, but together create a mega nightmare, as lead discomfort to images rather than concepts, as if they had brought mediumship the spirit that filled that fateful year and put it on the dissecting table.
And you wanted to get There
But I Could not go faster
It Could not go faster So I started to hit it
So I started to hit it, hit it, hit it, hit it down Coming
- Sadie I love it
Now now now Death Valley 69 '
I liked the idea of \u200b\u200bending Throbbing Gristle, a band that has pushed the boundaries of what is allowed to places that only the shareholders had reached Vienna, and possibly more the latter idea. In its hints of transmission COUM Cosey Fanni Tutti and Genesis P-Orridge nails were buried between them, had types with his face wrapped in barbed wire and were exhibited sculptures made of used tampons. All touches were intended to shock, and certainly when people began to expect violence, and Genesis Cosey velvety atmosphere created where there was no room for pain-even had a slogan that was "Deception Guaranteed" - . On a fucking band from Manchester, always used military imagery and bureaucratic, and certainly never fell far outside the murderers. Urge to kill is a song recorded live and inspired Edmund Kemper, the murderer of more than two meters as Wes Craven's dream, is devoted almost entirely to kill schoolgirls. As Ted Bundy, who also had a penchant for schoolgirls, it was not a murderer who had embarked on its prey like a dog on food, subjecting them to a thorough review, almost like a casting (Kemper beyond its rough appearance, was a smart enough guy who knew how to circumvent long psychiatric experts.)
Genesis P-Orridge is an / a tip @ smart enough, and all interviews always things one can extract much more interesting than Bono's ideas on the war in Iraq. In this complex idea of \u200b\u200bevolution and genetic self-design body that is Genesis P-Orridge (someone who is not a I , No she but a it ), argues that the only species that have survived are those that did something completely unthinkable for others. Maintains that these species are eccentric freaks of today, people who experiment with the possibilities of changes that offer plastic surgery, which challenge stereotypes and create new values. Here's the interesting thing: never say, and I doubt if you think you say, even as someone as outspoken as Genesis P-Orridge, "but we should think in this fascination with murderers who have COUM or TG, if not Implicit is the idea that murderers are the same freaks of speaker, the deviant genes that make possible the survival of the species.
Epilogue:
On Sunday I decide to spend what Mary. Like many houses in the Prado, the house has a strange sound that makes you steps and cracks in places where one knows that there is none. My brothers went home to their girlfriends. My in-laws sleeping in a separate block. An overdose of ravioli keep me bedridden, unable to move much. Mary and I did not take much time to fall asleep, but for some strange reason I wake up at four o'clock. Touch me realize that I am fully awake, almost without crusts. I wake Mary, so I get up to watch some television. You then hear the phone ring twice. I think it could be my parents, for not notifying them to stay where he was going to sleep. Still, it's strange, very strange, the only two tones are marked both the option of someone who quickly withdrew his call, and someone who picked up the tube early. I keep thinking that when I hear the phone again, voice accompanied by a care provider. It is the voice of my father, rather it looks like my brother. But my brother is gone, I think with the blanket to his chin. Nor is the custom of my in-laws to be wandering around the house at this hour of the night, and all possible guesses orbit around my head, fear crept like a child. I'm sweating and the idea that people are invading the house and almost a science. In one month the fund was stolen two bottles. I think they are the same, this time it will take all the TV, a DVD that I brought to see the process, the same film, rented at Video Image, my backpack with a book just begun Bolaño, my pencil, my diver my scarf. The idea of \u200b\u200bstealing everything and leaving them seem reassuring compared to the other options start to put on the table. I remember the recent case of Cologne, I think perhaps we will kill a Once stolen everything. I could get up and see what happens, deal with them if necessary, but something tells me it's best to make me sleep, and try to Mary remains the same while they pillage the house. I think that even might actually fall asleep, but when I try to tighten the eyes, I feel a few steps into the kitchen and all I can do is sweat and wait. Erratic path through the house, go to the living room, open faucets, take papers. I think the story I once told a fellow high school. Thieves had entered the house of his father and realized this as soon as they entered. With fear the reaction of the thieves to learn that he is awake, the type is the sleeping what does the burglary. When you are leaving, one of the thieves are approached, and before him, even with eyes closed, he said: "You did well to make the sleeper, and I like it."
I think of the scene over and over again, and the whole idea of \u200b\u200bfreedom Sartre vanishes and can not do anything but wait. Steps to reach the closed door of the room, I think I could hit a jump and lock, but would notice. It is then that the door opens and listens on "Tricolores, tricolor" , the mocking voice of my father to an unknown car parked in front of the house. My body is softened at last, and how far I could have come to such fear, having considered the possibility of calling 911. I try to imagine the graceful image of misunderstanding with my father being handcuffed by police for digging into his own house, but for some reason not able to enforce the peace.
I try to sleep and a lot of laps in the single bed. Mary can not keep awake, and asks me what's wrong.
"ravioli," I say, realizing I'm going to watch the sunrise over the coming hours.
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