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The mind of a male while showering and pondering what it’s just read of Ann Rule’s story, invariably drifts into scenarios where he comes across Ted Bundy in the mid-1970’s. From there it descends into graphic images of barbarism that can’t be shared with the outside if he doesn’t wish to be looked at askance.

From where the masculine urge for such aggression? You’ll never hear a woman say, “I wish I came across a serial killer!” But you will hear men say it. I’ve said it more times than I can count, imagined it too. In my head I’m up like 5-0 on serial killers, killing the likes of Ted Bundy, John Gacy, and Dean Corll, multiple times over and in different ways. No, the Zodiac Killer didn’t slip through the cracks of anonymity; he was discovered and met a gruesome death at the hands of Bryant Vielman, who, in full regalia of 70’s fashion, wore a striped tank-top tucked into suede bell bottoms when he picked up Arthur Allen and slammed him on his head.

All jokes aside—isn’t it interesting that humans view violence differently depending on context? While violence is by and large frowned upon, there are situations where it is acceptable and even desirable. Combat sports is one example, and the above paragraph is perhaps another. I become appalled and angered when I hear of serial murder against vulnerable people like women and children. Hence, my fantasies of retribution. But the irony can’t be lost here; I’m responding strongly to violence that I deem unacceptable with imagined violence that I think is acceptable, and deserved. There’s a well-known psychologist, Jordan Peterson, who believes that it is the strong testosterone-filled males of society that keep the psychopathic ones at bay.

But enough of that. It’s too early in the day—and late in the year—for thoughts like that; we’re around the holidays! A time of goodwill and cheer. And on that note, today we celebrate an early Thanksgiving at my dad’s, which means my Saturday consists of counting the day down to 5 p.m.

Good Day!