Penn State Pedophile Enablers Get Their Just Desserts

This creep is Penn State child molester Jerry Sandusky.  He’s doing 30 to 60 years in jail for serial rape.

Remember the Jerry Sandusky case?  He’s the pervert who was raping little boys at Penn State college.  He founded a foster home for the boys there – so that he could have easy access to them!  They’ve already sued Penn State for millions over it, and more power to the boys for standing up and fighting for restitution.

Three officials at the college knew about the abuse of the one of the boys when a graduate coaching assistant told them he saw it happening – back in 2001.  Sandusky was abusing the poor kid in a shower.  The three administrators, however, heard it but did nothing whatsoever about it.  All three could have called the cops, but hey!  That might’ve brought a scandal to their little college, which might’ve rocked their precious world, and might’ve been inconvenient for them, so, even though any one of them could have easily called the police over it, none of those three stooges had the courage between them to pick up the phone.

They’re disgraceful in the extreme, and their names are Tim Curley, Athletic Director; Graham Spanier, former President of the college, and Gary Schultz, former Vice President.  Well, now their names are mud, too.

Today they got sentenced to jail over their failure to act, and I’m hoping this will be the beginning of a trend.  Those in authority who don’t stand up and act when they know children are being raped, of all things, simply don’t belong in the wide world, looking the other way for their own stupid reasons while simultaneously making things worse.  Who in their right mind could know something as vile as rape is being perpetrated against little kids and not call the police?

One thing I can never understand regarding a lot of these pedophile cases is the labyrinthine way so many of these crimes manage not to come to light right away.  I’ve heard that predators are adept at terrifying the children they abuse into silence, but nothing occurs in a vacuum.   There’s always more people around in situations like these than just the abuser and victim.  In this particular instance, an adult even witnessed the abuse.  He spoke up to the administrators.  But he certainly told the wrong people.

If I knew of a child who was being raped, I’d call the police.  Not the school principal, or the college president, or the bishop, if it was a church situation – but the police!  It’s a criminal act, so it’s their jurisdiction – not the schools’, and not the churches’.  I’d call the police first.  I’d call Child Protective Services second.  And I’d be screaming bloody murder until I got the pervert in question investigated and arrested as quickly as possible, before more harm was done.

The silent Three Stooges of Penn State are the worst bunch of sex abuse enablers I’ve heard of yet, though, because it involves the abuse of boys in foster care.  They had no parents available to be on the lookout for their boys’ welfare, and with nobody to speak up on their behalf, it was even more crucial for the administrators to take action to put an end to the abuse as soon as they knew it was happening.  Incredibly, these clowns knew what was going on since 2001, but shut their mouths just to “protect” the university’s “reputation!”

Gentlemen, what do you think that school of yours looks like now?  

Penn State’s administrators who were sentenced to jail.  Curley, Spanier & Schutz.  (Curley, Mo and Larry?)




Enough Already: It’s Time to Criminalize Hazing!


Hazing deaths have got to stop…

I don’t know the parents of Timothy Piazza, who was killed in February as a direct result of a barbaric hazing ritual at Penn State college, but my heart certainly goes out to them.

Timothy died thanks to the idiocy of a bunch of frat boys from a group called “Beta Theta Pi.”  They were forcing pledges to drink far too much alcohol as part of what sounds like a horrifically stupid initiation ritual.  The young man became severely intoxicated, which was bad enough, but the insanity of these boys didn’t stop there.  Timothy fell down the stairs as a result of what he was “required” to drink, from the rituals made up by the fraternity boys. There’s more.  Then they moved him, poured liquids on him, and even pushed him into a wall to try to revive him, if you can believe this.  They also wouldn’t do the right thing and call 911.  One of the frat brothers wanted to summon help, but the rest of them wouldn’t hear of it.  If they had listed to that one, the single voice of reason there, and called for an ambulance, Timothy Piazza may have survived.

But the dip-shits of Beta Theta Pi didn’t call for an ambulance.  Timothy is dead.

Is this what any child’s parents pay college tuition for their children to experience?

I remember when I was in college and the friend of a friend, two years younger than I was, enrolled.  She was a quiet kid, not exactly Honor Roll material, to put it as kindly as possible, and she was shrilly desperate to become “popular” at the college.  She was invited to pledge a sorority and hoped I’d join her, but it wasn’t something I wanted to do.  I had seen other sorority pledges doing things like walking across the campus doing the box step for a week or being forced to sing “The Brady Bunch Theme Song” in the Student Center.  It struck me as something I might have enjoyed if I was, say, ten or eleven years old, but I was twenty and couldn’t see the point.  A twenty-year-old doing the box step for a week?  Ridiculous!

Yet this silliness appealed to the girl who wanted to be Miss Popularity of the campus so she underwent the initiation for the sorority.  What did her group’s hazing rituals involve?  Here’s where it takes a dark turn.  She told me that one of the pledges “got kidnapped” by the full-fledged sorority members.

“Kidnapped?” I repeated, incredulous.  God only knows what kind of stunt those wacky sorority gals just pulled, I remember thinking.  I knew kidnapping was a federal offense, but my friend and her fellow pledges either didn’t know that or care.

“Yes,” Miss-Popularity-to-Be whined to me, “She was kidnapped!”  Then she related that all the rest of the little pledges were transported to a graveyard at Midnight – naturally, they’d have arranged the timing of such a moronic stunt at Midnight.  “And they made us do all sorts of things to get her back!  For hours!  We were there until three in the morning!  You wouldn’t believe some of what they made us do!”

My imagination could easily fill in the blanks there, not that it wanted to, so my next question was, “Why the hell are you putting up with this insanity?”

The Popularity-Wannabe’s erudite wail in reply was, “Because I want to belong!”

It seems to me, then as now, that “belonging” is one matter.  Voluntarily engaging with some amoral group that has no problem with putting its potential members at physical  risk, whether by enforced substance abuse, abductions done in the name of “fun,” or any of the other horrors that come to light whenever one of these situations goes haywire and winds up on the news, is quite another.  Too many of the stories that abound about “hazing” practices cross the line from harmless pranks right into sadism – and should not be ignored.  Every year since 1970 there has been at least one death from hazing, sometimes more.  This is needless.  How many more do there have to be before hazing gets banned outright, by law?

It turns out that eighteen members of the Beta Theta Pi fraternity are now facing criminal charges for what happened to Timothy, as well they should.  And while I feel sorry for Timothy’s parents, I can’t help but wonder just what kind of frightening creatures raised those eighteen defendants, who weren’t even brought up with enough sense to call 911 when they saw an unconscious young man had fallen down a flight of stairs, but  instead, threw him into a wall.

Rest in peace, Timothy Piazza.


Disturbing and Creepy




What would you do if, as an adult, you found out that one of the people in a position of responsibility over you, as a child, may have had an unhealthy attachment to you?

What would you do if someone told you that that person still, decades later, asks all kinds of questions about you to mutual acquaintances, desperate, or so it seems, for news of you?

And what if this was the last person on the face of the planet you ever would have wanted anywhere near you, whether you were a child, an adult, or even the sole survivor of earth, save for the jerk in question?

This, apparently, is the position I’ve been told I’m in, and I never even knew about it.  I was jail bait to a pervert?  That’s as insane as it gets.  Yet two of the people who were approached about me, and barraged with questions, said that’s exactly what it looks like to them.

Fortunately, it’s hearsay, and might not be true…and yet.  It could just as well be accurate, disturbing as that is.  In a way, some of the events I remember regarding that particular individual now make a lot more sense.  I was a very observant kid.  That, surely, made me a threat to someone who was into that which would not have survived scrutiny.  No wonder that person tried to undermine me later, several times.  But prior to realizing I was savvier to the ways of the world than Creepy had previously believed, there were other incidents, too…which went nowhere because I didn’t let them.  But…it’s shaken me up, wondering how bad things may have become if I’d been less of a strong-willed, no-nonsense child, say, one who could have been pushed, who didn’t know quite clearly what I didn’t want, rather than one who did…I wasn’t, but even so…

Why am I writing this on my blog, though?  Well, it seems to me that anyone who would be asking questions about me, my life, my this and my that, behind my back, yet,  forty years after the last time they saw me – yes, folks, forty years! – is probably reading my blog, too.  As creepy as that is, I’m going to use the blog as a signpost to that now-geriatric lunatic.  Read away, creep!  Go away, too.  You want to track me, fine, well, TRACK THIS!  You’d better hope I don’t start talking, because if I hear you’re asking more questions, guess what?  I’ll be pushed to write a blog post about this again.   Next time, I’ll name you, and all those who, unlike you, really know me, know I’m capable of it.

The Latest JonBenet Book Should Have Been the First: WE HAVE YOUR DAUGHTER

The new book on the JonBenet Ramsey case that the public has needed all along.

The new book on the JonBenet Ramsey case by Paula Woodward.  This is the one the public has needed all along.

By all rights I shouldn’t be writing this blog post about the new JonBenet Ramsey case book yet.  I shouldn’t be sitting here putting this up on the Internet because at this moment I’m only halfway through the book and nowhere near finished reading it, though not for lack of trying since I can’t put it down.

Be that as it may, it’s got me so steamed that I can’t resist writing what I’ve found in the first half of it already.  Everybody who’s ever wondered about this case has got to read this particular book.

The book is WE HAVE YOUR DAUGHTER by Paula Woodward.  Paula is a Colorado investigative journalist who was involved with covering this case from the very beginning.  She regularly talked to the late Patsy Ramsey.  She had access to the JonBenet Ramsey “murder book” kept by the police about the investigation.  She knows the players personally, the police, the politicians in Colorado, the Ramsey family and friends.  She’s also one fantastic and refreshingly thorough reporter.

I’ve been watching several of the new specials on the JonBenet case the past couple of weeks and one thing that has been bothering me is the never-ending concentration so many of them have on one of the cellar windows, the broken one, that may have given an intruder access to the Ramsey house.  This was the window to the room where a suitcase was found.  For some reason I always thought the suitcase was found in the same cellar room as JonBenet’s body.

Not so.  It was in a storage room on the other side of the cellar.  JonBenet was found in a different room.  Woodward’s book comes complete with diagrams of every floor of the house.

About the house…the whole reason I’ve been bugged lately about that cellar window the media never stops harping about is that the Ramseys lived in a 15-room house.  Surely, I had started to think right before this new book was delivered, there must have been more ways for some creep to enter that 15-room edifice beyond that one window in the cellar.

Take a look.  Here’s the oft-photographed front entrance to the house:

Ramsey house, front entrance.

Ramsey house, front entrance.

And here is the rarely photographed back:

What a difference a another view makes!

What a difference a another view makes!

Just look at this photo!  Look at all those windows, so low to the ground.  Did you know the house had 100 windows?  That there were eight possible points of entry? That many of the windows and doors weren’t locked?  That the burglar alarm wasn’t one because the Ramseys, foolishly, didn’t bother to use it?   That neighbors, and one of the friends who came to the house on the morning the child’s body was found, saw a door that was ajar?  That JonBenet, and her brother Burke, both had second-floor bedrooms with doors leading to outdoor balconies?  That the parents also had a room with a balcony and a door on the third floor?

Paula Woodward brings out all of these points, plus a whole lot more.  JonBenet was injured with a blunt object.  Did you know that there was a dark-colored baseball bat, found outside on the property after the murder, that didn’t belong to anyone in the Ramsey family?  Woodward includes a black-and-white police picture of it.  It is a very disturbing sight.  Was this the object used to kill that little girl?  Wouldn’t it have made perfect sense, if it was, for whoever did it to have tossed the bat outside of the house afterwards?  I read about the bat, and the rest of this stuff, on Friday, then tossed and turned the entire night.  Why wasn’t all of this this publicized?

The police.  That’s why.

Here’s where I started to really get furious.  Woodward found that a lot of the “information” released to the public about the case was, deliberately, bogus.  The Boulder PD had “decided” the Ramseys “did it” and wouldn’t let go of this pet theory.  They were telling the public outright lies to make the Ramseys look as hideous as possible.  Patsy Ramsey’s appearances on television – made, Woodward reveals, while Patsy was operating under heavy-duty medical sedation – had already made her look bizarre, but the powers that be in Boulder were making things far worse.  They said they hadn’t interviewed the family, when they had.  They said Patsy wouldn’t give them DNA samples, when she had.  They insinuated there was something suspicious in the death of John Ramsey’s daughter from a previous marriage.  That daughter had been killed in a car accident involving a truck.

That’s as far as I’ve gotten with the book for the moment.  I’ll write more  once I’ve finished reading the rest of this well-done book.  However, this story, at last, is finally in the hands of a writer who is capable of exploding one Ramsey myth after another, and it’s about time.  The more that get stripped away, the clearer the picture seems to look.

Brava, Ms. Woodward!  Let’s hope it helps lead to a resolution!


Creepiness Overload and the JonBenet Ramsey Case

JonBenet Ramsey.

JonBenet Ramsey, who didn’t deserve what happened to her.

Well, I’m on full creepiness overload tonight thanks to two television specials in a row on the JonBenet Ramsey murder.  At 8:00 PM I saw the third Dr. Phil interview of JonBenet’s now 29-year-old brother, Burke, and at 9:00 PM there was the second The Case Of: JonBenet Ramsey on CBS.

Whoa, boy!

Burke smiled, grinned, and looked just plain eerie all through all three Dr. Phil episodes.  The doc himself tried to deflect attention from that bizarre smile by saying Burke worked with computers, people handle grief in different ways, Burke was nervous, and he hadn’t really ever spoken out before.  Be that as it may, it was still disturbing to watch those three interviews.  Lots of people haven’t spoken out before about a whole variety of subjects, but come on, Phil, if somebody’s discussing their sister’s murder twenty years after the fact, why would they smile as they discussed it throughout all three shows?

Had Burke not plastered such a grinning mask onto his face, I would have been a lot more impressed.  He gave decent answers to Dr. Phil’s questions.  He even said he hopes the case will be solved one day.  John Ramsey, the ever-calm father, was also interviewed on the show and presented himself very well.  I’d have been able to say the same for Burke, save for the three episodes of constant smiles.  Something’s wrong there.  Nobody’s that uneasy…

Might their decision to speak out at this moment have been prompted by knowing investigators would be involved with the second show that was on tonight?

The Case Of: JonBenet Ramsey did a remarkable job of presenting another look at the evidence.  Their main theory, following exhausting research, is that Burke killed his sister by accident and the parents covered it up.

And yet…

One of the most fascinating aspects of The Case Of was their enhancement of the 911 call Patsy Ramsey to report her daughter “missing” following her alleged finding of the ransom note.  After Patsy thought she’d hung up the phone, the operator could still hear what was going on.  The recording was muffled so they used technology to clarify it.  One of the things that could clearly be heard was a small voice, presumed to be Burke, asking his parents, “What did you find?”  The emphasis was on the “did,” not the “find.”  A male voice scolds harshly, “We weren’t talking to you!”

If that child had truly been responsible for the accidental killing of his sister, why would he be asking his parents what they found?  Wouldn’t he already know what happened?  If the family spent the night trying to disguise “Burke’s” crime, isn’t it reasonable to believe he’d have seen at least part of the mad dash to cover it up?

What if Burke knew something about what happened, perhaps even saw some of it go down, but wasn’t the one who did it.  My bet’s always been on Patsy.  Why else would Burke ask what they found?

Besides, as The Case Of pointed out, the parents did all they could to prevent the Boulder Police from solving the case, not agreeing to be interviewed by them – while talking to CNN – and hiding behind lawyers…

What a mess!

I like the way The Case Of ended.  They think someone out there might have been told relevant information by the person who actually did it.  Come forward!

There’s a good summary of the findings here: Hollywood-Reporter-The-Case-Of-JonBenet-Ramsey

John and Patsy Ramsey. Patsy had no problem emoting on television but wasn't helping the police find out who hurt her child. Was it because she already knew?

John and Patsy Ramsey. Patsy had no problem emoting on television but wasn’t helping the police find out who hurt her child. Was it because she already knew?



Chilling: Dr. Phil’s First Interview of JonBenet Ramsey’s Brother

Creepy as Hell: "Here's Burke!"

Creepy as Hell: “Here’s Burke Ramsey!”

Almost 20 years after it happened, the JonBenet Ramsey murder case remains unsolved.  The public’s fascination with it hasn’t lessened a bit, and there are apparently going to be eight, yes, eight, specials on the case this television season.

Unless you’ve been living in a cave for the past 20 years you already know about this case, but here’s a brief recap.  Six-year-old JonBenet, daughter of John and Patsy Ramsey and sister of nine-year-old Burke, was a child beauty pageant contestant who was found strangled and with a head injury in her home on the day after Christmas in 1996.  There was an ultra-bizarre ransom note, asking for the amount of John Ramsey’s recent bonus, yet, left on the circular back stairway that Patsy found when she went downstairs that morning (but JonBenet hadn’t really been kidnapped).  The note was written inside the house on a pad of paper belonging to the Ramsey family.  The garrote used to strangle the little girl was made from a paintbrush out of her mother’s paint set.  It certainly looked like an inside job.

That perception wasn’t helped by the videos that were released to the public after the child was found dead in which she strutted the beauty pageant runways looking more sexually provocative at age six than most adult women could ever pull off in their lifetimes.  It was only natural to wonder about what kind of parents would pay for a first grader to get coached to perform like that and enter competitions.  The subculture of child beauty pageants was virtually unknown then to anyone who wasn’t directly involved in them (and who in their right mind would want to be)?

As the house was searched and the friends and police were arriving, nine-year-old Burke was allegedly in his bedroom.  He allegedly stayed in there during all the chaos of that morning, as the police waited with the parents for the phone call that never came about the ransom demand for the “kidnapped child” who wasn’t kidnapped.  A cop told JonBenet’s father and one of his friends to search the house to see if anything was out of the ordinary – an astonishing suggestion.  They found JonBenet’s dead body in the basement.  It was believed she wasn’t just strangled and had her head bashed in but that she was sexually assaulted, too.

Had her parents done it?  Her mother?  Her father?  Her nine-year-old brother?  Had it been an accident that John and Patsy tried to cover up with that mother of all ransom notes?  What happened that night in that beautiful house in Boulder?

Suspicion fell on the parents, and was further aggravated by Patsy Ramsey’s bizarre affect whenever she spoke to the media.  The lady looked like the worst actress of all time, with her body language not only not matching her comments but glaringly almost fighting against them.  She gave me the creeps.  If she was honest than I’m Queen Elizabeth.  Suspicion remained on Patsy and John until DNA evidence, found on JonBenet’s underwear, was to clear them.

In all the years since, JonBenet’s brother, Burke, has not spoken publicly  about the events in the house when the murder took place – until recently.  Today the first of his interviews was aired on Dr. Phil.

I was unprepared for how disturbing this show would be.

If Patsy Ramsey’s body language had been weird, I’ll say this: at least she came across like an over-the-top sad parent who’d lost her daughter.

Burke’s went completely in the opposite direction.  There was a smile on his face throughout almost the entire interview about the murder of his sister!  He smiled when asked when was the last time he saw her, he smiled when describing his mother coming into the room when she was searching for JonBenet, he smiled describing everything.  It reminded me of the look on Jack Nicholson’s ultra-bright but evil face as he said in The Shining, “Heeeere’s Johnny!”  Good God Almighty!

Yet at the same time as that grin was on his face, his fingers were clenched, or drumming the arm of the chair on which he sat.  Nervous as Hell on the one hand, yet smiling like a politician at a victory parade on the other.  And this is during an interview about the murder of his own little sister.

People had thought, hoped, even, that the young man would say something revelatory that might just lead to an answer to this horrific unsolved crime, a remembered sound, maybe, or the recollection of someone’s suspicious actions, but I for one am coming away from watching that utterly freakish interview with a whole new list of additional questions.  Why is Burke smiling?  What is going on in his head?  What has him so nervous?  What happened the night his sister died, and what does he know about it?

And on another note entirely, why does nobody ever seem to coach members of this particular family before they make their media appearances?  If guilty, oh well, but if they’re innocent, they excel at giving themselves a perception problem before the public.

Part Two airs tomorrow.  Stay tuned.  I still hope that one day there really will be some justice for JonBenet.

The last known photo of JonBenet, beside her brother, Burke. Christmas 1996.

The second-to-last known photo of JonBenet, beside her brother, Burke. Christmas 1996.


A photo of murder victim JonBenet Ramsey. First and foremost, who'd pose a 6-year-old child like THIS?

A photo of murder victim JonBenet Ramsey, dressed in pageant attire. First and foremost, who’d pose a 6-year-old child like THIS?

Love and Light to the People and First Responders of Orlando, Florida

Love to Orlando from here in Brooklyn!

Love to Orlando, Florida from here in Brooklyn, New York!

Can you imagine what it must be like to a first responder, a police officer, an EMT or a hospital employee in Orlando, Florida during this awful, horrifying week?  Or what it must be like to be the loved one of any of the multitude of victims of all these senselsess Orlando tragedies?

I’ve never seen a city with such a trio of terrible news stories, in such quick succession, as those taking place in Orlando over the past few days.  Christina Grimmie, singer, gunned down by a crazed fan; 49 dead, 53 injured at the Pulse Nightclub during an Islamic terrorist attack, perhaps accomplished with the complicity of his wife, as it’s turning out; and now, almost unbelievably, a child snatched from the beach in the jaws of an alligator at Disney World.  Snatched from the “Seven Seas Lagoon,” no less, the lake that’s the centerpiece of Disney World, a location, usually, at least, that is devoted to relaxation and peace.

Orlando has been my home away from home for almost 40 years.  I love that place.  Admittedly, I have only seen it as a tourist, not a resident.  It’s one of my two preferred vacation destinations since I know that at Disney World I’ll always have a nice, relaxing time, and get the chance to shop at the international stores in the EPCOT section, too.   I know Disney World like the back of my hand, and Universal Studios, too.  I can’t honestly say I know the rest of the city too well.  The one and only music venue I ever went to there, to hear my favorite kind of old-time early twentieth century music, was Rosie O’Grady’s, and that was maybe 20 years ago.

Still, if you’ve been to Orlando, and I’ve been there dozens of times, you meet and get to know the people.  Making the rest of us happy is their business, and they always deliver.  Always!  I remember Annie the waitress at the Days Inn who would dance our breakfasts over to my mother, when she’d join me on vacation, and me, and would jokingly call her boss “that ole goat!”  I remember the hostess at the same Days Inn who told me to go outside and see the Space Shuttle as it took off, an amazing sight I’ve never forgotten.  I think of the gifted young man who played the honky tonk piano in the ice cream parlor at Disney World.  Any one of them could have been directly affected by the recent events there – who knows?  Are they okay at the moment, or are they among the victims, or the mourners?  And, most of all, I think of the wonderful, first-class show put on at Universal Studios, at their Wizarding World of Harry Potter park, where a young man who ran one of the rides for the pleasure of the rest of us was one of those gunned down in the club massacre.  Who could kill a man that runs a ride to make people happy?

To the people of Orlando: my heart goes out to you.  To the police, first responders, rescue workers, the bouncer at the nightclub who saved so many people, those leading the Disney World rescue effort, all of you wonderful, tireless people: you’re heroes!  May you never have to be heroes in such circumstances ever again, though.

By the way, there’s a bit of good news to add.  Another Harry Potter ride operator, who was also struck, is recovering.

The world loves you, Orlando, Florida!  Let’s hope tomorrow will be a better day.