kill (the mystique)

the other day, i was thinking about the zodiac killer. that was a serial killer in california in the late 60’s and early 70’s. the case has never been solved so it really retains an air of intrigue and mystique to me. it makes the killer seem infallible, like they are a force of otherworldly evil that mere mortals cannot stop.

but that’s bullshit. the zodiac killer is, or was, a human like everyone else. they probably have a bit of a fat gut, they probably don’t trim their pubic hair enough, probably have horrible morning breath, probably live in a vaguely gross, outdated home that smells like 15-yr old chili and has orange shag carpet, maybe drive a pontiac sunfire, probably jump and get startled if they almost get hit by another car, probably buy budget brand diarrhea relief tablets from wal-mart when they get an upset tummy…that stuff isn’t infallible, otherworldly evil stuff. that’s disappointing, boring, yucky, normal human stuff. what a letdown. sure, the zodiac killer murdered a bunch of people and has got away with it so far, but they are still no different from the rest of us.

that’s sort of jarring and weirdly disappointing in a way, but that’s reality. no one is above our inborn humanity, no matter how hard they might try to transcend it. we are all just walking collections of cells, bones and organs that will eventually turn to dirt. just filthy, disgusting animals. the only difference is that we have egos — we’re meat bags with egos.

we’re only human. all of us.


even you.


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