I decided to share it. WARNING: Graphic descriptions.
September 28, 2014
I take keyboard in hand today to get
something off my chest that's been bothering me greatly for a couple
of years now. I am unsure if I will actually share this with anyone;
perhaps just writing it out will help. If I do share it, I apologize
in advance. This is no joke, and it contains graphic descriptions of
some horrible things – one in particular. You don't have to read
it, but if you do, I hope it won't bother you as much as the original
material bothered me.
In short, what traumatized me was a
beheading video I saw on the internet. Why was I watching such a
thing? I wonder sometimes myself.
It happened like this: I was just
surfing around on the internet, and somehow came across an odd video
of a man who just dropped dead in mid-sentence. He was some kind of
Middle Eastern professor, holy man or politician. He was giving a
speech or answering a question in a forum, and just stopped talking
and slumped over. It was sad, but interesting. It got me curious, and
I began clicking on similar videos suggested by YouTube. At first it
was just old guys dropping dead on video, then there was one of a
young woman who jumped off of a tall building. The shot was from
above. You could see her hit the ground. That was it. No blood or
So one thing led to another. I
eventually came upon a site called “Best Gore” dot com (if memory
serves – I don't care to look it up). It had pages upon pages of
different categories of death and gore, in still pictures and video.
The operator of this vile website had some high-falutin' pretensions
about how seeing the real deal might help to engender some
sensitivity toward our fellow humans in an increasingly jaded
society, what with violent movies and videos games and blah blah
blah. I didn't buy it.
Before I go on, perhaps I should
explain why I was interested in such stuff. Perhaps I have a morbid
curiosity, perhaps induced by my Scorpio birth sign, but it stood me
well in a previous job. When I was trying to go to graduate school, I
took a part-time job as a mortuary transportation driver. It was my
job to pick up dead people and transport them to the local
mortuaries. This job soon led to a full-time gig as a licensed
funeral director (not an embalmer). As you might have guessed, grad
school didn't work out.
So over the course of three to four
years, I saw my fair share of death and gore. It never really
bothered me much, except when watching the embalmers doing their
thing, or especially when I had to assist the county medical examiner
during autopsies (my county doesn't have a morgue – instead the
local mortuaries take turns letting the ME use their embalming rooms
for autopsies). Seeing the aftermath of violence upon the human body
was not nearly as bad as watching one being cut and carved, even if I
told myself that they couldn't feel anything. I almost passed out the
first few times I watched such things.
Most of my business came from hospitals
and nursing homes, but there were also crime scenes, traffic
accidents and more than a few suicides. Suicides were the most
disturbing, if not always as gruesome as say, a traffic accident, or
a corpse in the stages of advanced decomposition. There was one
suicide however, that really was pretty memorable. A young man had
sat on a bench in his yard in a remote part of the county and blown
his brains out with a high-powered rifle. I don't know if he stuck
the gun in his mouth, or under his chin, but the top of his head was
opened up like a Jiffy Pop container, and one of his eyeballs was
bulging out of its socket from the force of the explosion. My
assistant and I had to go about, guided by the flashlights of the
squeamish sheriff’s deputies, and pick up all the parts of the
man's brains and skull that were scattered about the yard.
So, you could say that I had a
professional curiosity about most of the content of Best Gore. They
had a section of torture videos, which I had absolutely no interest
in watching. They also had at least one beheading video. That kind of
got me curious. I wondered if I could handle it. I thought I was
pretty tough, what with all the gore I had witnessed in my earlier
job. As I came to find out, I'm not tough, and I couldn't handle it.
It may seem silly to say, but I've
always had a particular horror of decapitation. I say it seems silly,
because I should hope that most of us would be horrified by that. I
mean, our heads hold our faces, and all the organs of our senses,
with the exception of touch. It contains our brains, the seat of our
reasoning and personality and all that makes us unique.
I remember once when I was young being
creeped out by an episode of “Kolchak: The Night Stalker” in
which a modern version of the headless horseman was going about on a
motorcycle lopping off people's heads. You never actually saw a head
leave a neck, but it was well implied, especially a scene in which a
man is horrified to watch his buddy lose his head. I couldn't imagine
how anyone could witness such a thing and survive.
I was lucky that I never saw a severed
head while I worked in the mortuary industry. One of the older
embalmers, a very strange guy, showed me a photograph of himself when
he was much younger, washing the hair of a woman's severed head in a
sink. I don't know why he would want to keep something like that. I
said he was strange.
So, I had never actually seen a severed
head, much less a video of it happening. So I guess I sort of
challenged myself to see how well I dealt with it. I was hoping that
it would be a quick slice with a sword or axe, followed by oblivion
for the victim. Stupid, stupid, stupid man. It was anything but.
What it was was some radical Islamic
terrorists who executed a kidnapped white westerner, probably an
American. I think the man's name was Terry. I've tried hard to forget
the particulars. I also don't remember what country it took place in,
or when exactly. I think it was maybe the '90s or the first decade of
Now I have to describe in as much
detail as I can what I saw, because that is what replays in my head
every day. There were four or five hooded terrorists lined up with
this poor man kneeling on the floor in front of them with his hands
and ankles tied. One of them, who was some kind of big wig in the
terror business, read something from a prepared statement. I think he
spoke in Arabic, not English. When he was done reading, he kicked the
man over onto his side. One of the other ones grabbed the man under
his chin and pulled up and back on his head. The leader took what
appeared to be nothing more than a large kitchen knife – not a
sword, or an axe, or even a machete – and proceeded to cut into the
man's throat with a sawing motion.
Now, I have it on good authority that
pulling back on the head is the wrong thing to do if you're trying to
cut someone's throat. Pulling the head back causes the tendons in the
neck to come forward of the trachea and veins, making it much more
difficult to cut them cleanly. Now, I don't know if these monsters
were just too stupid to know about this, or if they just didn't care
how long and painful and terrifying for the victim this would be. My
money is on the latter.
And the fucking knife didn't even seem
like it was that sharp, which may have been intentional, as well. All
I can say is that the terrorists seemed to have made a lot more work
for themselves than they probably intended to. And the worst of it
was that you could hear the victim screaming, even though his mouth
was being held closed by a goon. After what seemed an eternity, the
butcher finally cut into the guy's main arteries, and then an insane
amount of blood began to flow out. The really awful part was that
even though his vocal chords and trachea or larynx or whatever must
have been severed, it seemed like he was still screaming. It might
have been the terrorists screaming with blood-lust, but that sound
has been the most persistently troubling memory of the whole thing. I
wondered if such a thing was possible. I'm sure death followed with
the loss of all that blood, but I guess you might retain
consciousness and even some muscle control until your spinal cord is
severed. I don't know. I'm not a doctor, and I haven't cared to
Finally the cutter was getting close to
the man's spinal column, and his head was almost completely off. This
is where the butcher seemed to start running into trouble. It can't
be easy to cut through someone's vertebrae with a dull and slippery
knife. At this point the video seems to jump ahead to where the man's
head is completely off. I wonder if the terrorists themselves edited
it because they were afraid of looking incompetent, or if somewhere
along the line between this video leaving the hands of the terrorists
and arriving on a site like Best Gore someone else edited that part
out for whatever reason.
The video ends with one or more of the
terrorists holding up the man's head, and then placing it, with some
difficulty, on top of his lifeless body, which was still laying on
That's pretty much it, and I hope
you're okay. I heard a strange music in my head, perhaps like Doc in
Cannery Row heard when he found the drowned girl's body. I closed my
computer and got up and went and sat on my bed next to my wife. I
think it was a few days before I told her what I had seen. I spared
her the gory details. She suggested I should write it out. I wish I
hadn't waited this long, but this recent wave of radical Islamic
beheadings in the news has made it more urgent to me.
I'm truly lucky that the worst thing
I've ever seen was only a video. I've never had to witness a
traumatizing event in real life, and I hope I never do. Maybe that
website did succeed in its stated intention of making someone more
sensitive. But I feel like part of me died inside that day, and the
world has seemed a little diminished since then.
And please don't think I'm condemning
Muslims, just people who cut off other peoples' heads.
We've lived in our current neighborhood for a little over two years now. Several months in, I noticed this little sign on the door of our neighborhood Safeway supermarket. I snapped it (sorry about the finger in shot), then forgot about it for several more months. This was long before all the recent "open carry" and assault-rifles-in-Chipotle controversy.
There are two other Safeway stores in this town, but neither of them have a sign like this. Why? Could it have something to do with the fact that they are not on the edge of a ghetto, like mine?
You all might be getting a little bored of me and my seeming LEETcense plate obsession, but I'm certainly not tired of it! Well, I might be after this bonanza. The reason I'm hitting you with so many at once is because I've been kind of busy and tired, what with work and all. As I drive about in my wittle bus, and I see a LEETcense plate, at a safe moment I will print out a transfer ticket and jot down the funny. I save the tickets in my backpack for later blogging. Because of the aforementioned busy/tired thing, I had amassed quite a collection of the suckers, and now it's time to clean house! I'm hoping most of you are by now familiar enough with how LEET works that I won't have to insult your intelligence by translating each one for you, except when necessary for clarification.
Some of the most satisfying LEETcense plates are the ones that make pretty much a complete sentence. The first one answers the all-important question, "Who bit?". Why, 'twas Gail who bit, of course. The second describes what must be done before one can sell a pig in a poke.
Many cannibals agree that guys are best for grilling, but gals are tastiest when chopped in bits and cooked in a broth with vegetables.
But shit soup is something no one likes.
This one is actually a bit sad, at least to me. My first thought was of poor Miss Frank crying in that historic attic. Sorry, that's not funny at all. It's just how my mind works sometimes. And yes, I know her name was actually Anne.
Speaking of things that aren't funny, biological warfare isn't either.
This wasn't actually a California plate, but I didn't catch what state it was. "Less beg, more work" is something one might say to a mendicant.
The cast of the 1992 thriller Single White Female included Bridget Fonda, Jennifer Jason Leigh and Steven Weber.
Peg had a lot of gall to make a pie out of...well, gall. Yuck.
"Did you go to the reunion?"
"Yeah, I went."
"Yeah, I saw him."
"How'd he look?"
"He looked great, damn him! Oh, why was I such a fool?!"
This was from an older, blue and yellow six-character California plate, and is a necessary item for those momentous times when pigs fly.
The short-lived, attempted spin-off of the wildly successful TV series Gunsmoke, about the comical misadventures of the apprentice gunsmith who cleaned Marshall Dillon's firearms.
I like to think that I drive my bus like a boss. At any rate, much like the captain of a ship, I am the boss of the bus.
I hesitated to use this one because it's a little vague and maybe a lot cerebral (and whether you are willing to pronounce that Y in the middle of a word like a long "i"), but I imagine something like this:
AMERICAN CLOTHING SIZES HOW THE FRENCH SEE THEM
Extra Large FAAT!
How about a visitor from out of state?
An ego urp is a relative of the brain fart.
Getting near the end now. For me, the holy grails of LEETcense plates are ones that contain whole, prurient words like TITS, BOOBS or POOP. I've seen several 717s, but nothing yet that would give a nice pair of tits. And it would be a rare plate indeed that would give you all the necessary characters to spell BOOBS, but I came close when I saw...
I don't like having to use partial plates, but sadly, the first three characters can't be made into anything at all. Still, I thought I was pretty cool that we got one boob.
I've also seen a few POOs, but nothing worth blogging about until I saw this, although it is also only a partial...
I just could not come up with anything for the EWC, but at least we had a whole POOP. Then I saw this baby...
You would think that would be the mack daddy of all POO plates, but I still kept my eyeballs peeled for the elusive and possibly mythological POOP in a sentence. Then one day I thought I saw one that used POOP followed by three other characters which made a kind of sense on a pickup truck. I think I've mentioned before that trucks in California use the pattern "numeral letter five numerals", so I began to doubt that I had seen correctly, because the one letter I saw was in the sixth character position. Then after further observation, I discovered that California trucks also use the pattern "five numerals letter numeral". So now I proudly present for your reading pleasure...
If that's too much information for you, then I apologize.