-2nd Portal to Insanity, Arizona
Many moons ago, when 12 idiots from Pinellas with the collective intelligence of a Chia Pet foolishly aquitted a Beast (whose name we dont speak of) of babykilling, I told myself i would never again get sucked into following another murder trial. I couldnt bear to watch helplessly as Lady Justice lay battered and crippled on the courtroom floor, as an unrepentant liar and a porridge-brained “attorney” nomnomnommed her to death like a couple of zombies on The Walking Dead. That insufferable smirk. The pink tuxedo shirt of victory. The court appropriate mini sweaterdress and lipgloss on Judgment Day. The memories haunt me to this day.
But sometime along the way, The Beast passed the baton of delusional foolery to another mildly photogenic brunette who also contributes nothing to society but exhaust fumes and herpes. And murder. Let’s not forget murder. She crowned Jodi Arias the Homicidal Harlot of 2013 in a lavish underground ceremony just outside of Freakintardistan. I saw it all in the periphery, and tried to avoid getting wrangled into the circus tent. And yet here I am now, glued to the nonstop coverage of another pathological embarassment to humanity on trial for her life.
If I didnt know better, I might argue these two heathens were fraternal twin sisters separated at birth and genetically programmed to snap simultaneously in June 2008. Damn you, Illuminati.
Let’s examine the similarities:
High school dropout with no real job or future to speak of? Check.
Serial boyfriend hopper with no sense of personal identity outside a relationship? Check.
Never met a mirror (or camera lens) they didnt love? Check.
Boycrazy sex addict? Check.
Strange inclination to drive aimlessly with numerous full cans of gas in the trunk? Check.
Fumbling a large volume of $10 words into interviews to try and appear articulate to compensate for a lack of education? Check.
Shovelfulls of malarkey-scented fairy tales told to law enforcement with a straight face on June 16, 2008? Check.
Total strangers to shame, humility, and remorse? Check.
Proudly obscene sex kitten turned cross-eyed librarian when push comes to shove in front of a jury? Check.
The list goes on and on. The main difference, however, is that Norman Bates enthusiast Jodi hasn’t shyed away from the witness stand like her predecessor. Nay, the monotone Arias has stayed crazyglued (pun intended) to the witness chair for nearly a month, reciting one bold lie after another, without missing a beat, and looking increasingly ridiculous in the process. And I’ve really learned some things. Until now, I never knew that a poor, frail abuse victim such as Jodi would voluntarily hop in her carriage and drive several states out of her way to pay an unwanted visit to a “violent” ex. I always thought the inclination would be to sever all contact and STAY hundreds of miles away from a”terrifying abuser” who wants nothing to do with you anyway. But I guess that’s just me. Abuse victims these days… crawling through doggy doors with knives and guns and cameras hoping to have sex with alleged closet pedophiles…
I’ve also learned how much traumatized sexual abuse victim Arias loves to hear herself talk about sex. Of any and every variety. Phone sex, anal sex, oral sex, fantasies involving ropes and trees and woodland sprites and wolves (maybe i made up that last part, i don’t know, i got so bored I stopped listening), detailed accounts of what underwear her third boyfriend wore on their fourth date when he bought her a strawberry frappuccino from Starbucks that made her swoooooooooon for all eternity. She remembers each and every supposedly demeaning and “debasing” sexual encounter with victim Travis Alexander, but claims memory loss when asked about stabbing him 29 times and slicing his throat in self defense. Total blackout due to “trauma.” How convenient; her brain picks and chooses which debasing traumas to erase from its memory, even when her life is on the line. Beats everything I’ve seen.
Shut your piehole and go away, Arias. You butchered a human being because he dumped you, and now you want to soak up the spotlight with your outrageous abuse claims that you think provide a license to kill. Youre a malignant sociopath, and your fake glasses and librarian costume fool nobody. How Travis’ family can sit in the same room with you and maintain any composure while you slaughter him all over again is beyond me. I would have to be pumped full of thorazine in a pseudo-coma to share oxygen with you.
You make me sick.