Wednesday, December 06, 2006

The opening of my new play...

Serial.

The word SERIAL is defined as “consisting of, forming part of, or taking place in a series: a serial publication” The Pickwick Papers by Charles Dickens were originally published as a serial. In the forties we had the great movie matinee serials like Spy Smasher, The Masked Marvel and Flash Gordon - and I don’t mean the movie - each ending with some cliffhanger to entice the hungry fans to come back next week. Even the TV we watch today falls under this definition. When you think about it, life, if nothing more, is serial in its very nature: “consisting of, forming part of or taking place in a series.”

But TV or forties film strips or Charles Dickens don’t typically spring to mind when we hear the word Serial, do they? You see, in these modern times serial is better defined as “repeatedly committing the same offense and typically following a characteristic, predictable behavior pattern.” As in serial killer. A term commonly attributed to Special Agent Robert Ressler - one of the founding memeber’s of the FBI’s Behavioral Science Unit.

Jack the Ripper. John Wayne Gacey. The Son of Sam: David Berkowitz. Jeffrey Dahmer. Ted Bundy. Lesser known killers like Charles Cullen or Steven Letter - both know as the Angel of Death, Mary Beth Tinning who in 14 years killed her 9 children. Albert Fish, the Zodiac. You get the picture. Serial killers. They fascinate us. While generalizing behavioral characteristics is difficult, it is safe to say the majority of these killers have a specific, pattern based method to which they operate. Do they deviate - yes, but the deviation is almost always an escalating of atrocity. They are seemingly heartless but appear socially adequate enough to have friends and/or lovers and even be described as “a really nice guy who wouldn’t hurt a fly.” And serial killers are a sensation hungry, media-crazed nation’s soul food. We are horrified and enthralled at the same time. Not unlike a car accident - we hate that it happens but can’t help slowing down to see the gruesome outcome. There is nothing like a little death to arouse human curiosity.

I’ve always wondered if there were no consequences would the average person be willing to kill another human being? Or is there a mechanism within us that actually prevents us from taking a life? To coin a phrase: A consequence of conscience. And if so, are the Dahmer’s of the world born without that consequence of conscience? Something to consider. And while you’re considering... think on this question: what is conscience, really? Webster defines conscience as: “the faculty, power, or inward principle which decides as to the character of one's own actions, purposes, and affections, warning against and condemning that which is wrong, and approving and prompting to that which is right; the moral faculty passing judgment on one's self.” Is that then the nagging Super Ego Freud wrote about? Jung’s collective unconscious? A social hold-over from ancient times screaming don’t piss off the God’s or there’ll be hell to pay? A genetic predisposition to further the human race? One or all, the vast majority of us are at the mercy of something that holds the average, normal person back. Science doesn’t have an answer and psychiatrists, well, we won’t get into their territory since they aren’t too sure of their footing in mental realm - just ask them to define ADHD. And I don’t think it’s what the movies are saying either. The iconic image of the man in black with a dark brow over hanging deep set eyes. Bundy looked like you or me. Gacey was a natural salesman and dressed up like clown for sick kids. Look at the person next to you. He or she is fully capable of the worst that human nature can bring. But are they going to act on it? The realm of the serial killer, or, more specifically, the person lacking the consequence of conscience, is not black and white. It’s gray. Beautifully gray. So... your homework: think about the “gray.” I want you to formulate your theories on why the majority of us can live lives of quiet desperation serialized and qualified by whether McDreamy and Meredith are going to get together and a minority are fully capable of committing the most horrific atrocity without blinking an eye. Remember the look on Dahmer’s face when he sat at the defendant’s table. Stone cold. Nothing. The look of a simple librarian on his lunch break. I expect greatness from you all and anything less is unacceptable. Have a great weekend and may the force be with you.

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