Why I love crime (The final installment)

My mama once said to me during one of our frequent political discussions, “I don’t believe in the death penalty. I’ve known plenty of murderers, and they weren’t all bad people.” Plenty of murderers, I wondered? Plenty as in “existing in ample quantity or number?” My sweet mama? Well, yes. And come to think of…

Why I love crime (The redux)

A doll is boring. And vaguely scarey with her fixed, blinking eyes. She just lies there. Staring. A fingerprint. Now there is something flat interesting! Here’s what a doll has: hair plugs. Here’s what a fingerprint has: whorls. Which sounds more interesting to you? Baw had had the misfortune of contracting tuberculosis and spent many…

Why I love crime (Part I)

I love crime. That is not to say that I enjoy it when acts of crime are perpetrated on the innocent. In fact, I hate and despise any and all acts of victimization, think it is bad bad bad, and believe that criminals should be thoroughly punished in a manner befitting their charge. What I…