Fine line between genius and serial killer.

While many people may be horrified by the story (how he had sexual fantasies while stalking victims and all), I have to say, I was a little intrigued. It was like a subplot out of a Thomas Harris novel (Silence of the Lambs, Red Dragon, Hannibal). And with all the media brainwashing I had been subjected to, I just had to check this out. So I clicked on the BTK slideshow timeline photo gallery thing-a-ma-bob. Okay, pictures of mediocre-looking people, some newspaper clippings, and BAM! I found this:

Now, is that crazy or what? I think there must be more to this poem, but it's certainly impressive as it is. That's some freaking art right there: the poem of a serial killer to his victim. He was waiting for her inside her apartment, but she never came home. Then he sent her this. That's just ridiculously, creepily romantic.
I hope this guy gets put away for life. He's obviously not resisting it. He knows what he deserves. I sure he'd even be fine with the death sentence. But... you have to ask yourself especially in our current culture of romanticizing violence, where do we draw the line between art and psycho-sickness? This man, the anti-hero, if he were in a novel, would we celebrate his character as that of mystery, bloodlust, and torture? Will we celebrate it years from now when he becomes little more than a myth?
Reality's pretty fucked up, but glazing it over with fiction and fantasy makes it quite eerily magical.
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