by R. Gordon Dalrymple
In this chaotic year of endless bad news, there have been a few rays of light. One is the progress in criminal justice sparked by the capture of the Golden State Killer, Joseph DeAngelo, two years ago. Since then, genealogy DNA research has solved 93 of the coldest cold cases nationwide, some dating back over 40 years. With 256,000 unsolved murders in the U.S. since 1980 still on ice, more of these heinous assholes will face unexpected justice in the future as more private outfits like Parabon Nanolabs are being launched, and some state and local police agencies are starting their own genealogy DNA labs (for-profit costs for a detailed family tree history: $3500).
A common profile I glean from all of these cases: the grumpy but generally Good Grandpa. Today he lives in a nice suburban house, he’s raised three children and some grandchildren, he may be married or divorced, but he’s retired, attends church services, keeps his lawn well kept, and the neighbors have no real trouble with him — but incontrovertible DNA evidence proves that in 1975 he raped and murdered an 11-year old girl, among other victims. And got away with it, until the Big Data revolution snared him: DNA and AI.
I celebrate the technology, but Wendy thinks that karma was mainly responsible for Joseph DeAngelo’s demise: he disturbed the long stasis in the karmic plane by ending his 32-year long hiatus (his last known rape/murder was in 1986), attempting one last thrill kill for his bucket list, just as the BTK killer, Dennis Rader, confessed to be considering before his capture.
On April 14, 2018, the home security system of a house in Folsom, CA — only a 15 minute drive from DeAngelo’s home in Citrus Heights — recorded a strange caller knocking on the door and ringing the doorbell at 3:30 am. The resident was a 41-yr.-old woman living alone. The caller, or prowler, had set a black handbag on the ground behind him (containing a bondage and rape kit?) He wore a long black wig with a headband, and appears a dead ringer for DeAngelo. After noticing the security camera, he picked up the bag and fled after two minutes. You can judge the similarity yourself:
Ten days later, DeAngelo was arrested. I told Wendy that the breakthrough genealogy DNA investigation began three months earlier, leading to DeAngelo as the suspect, confirmed by his own DNA samples surreptitiously obtained from a car door handle and discarded tissue. “Yes,” says Wendy, “but he had gone 32 years without being detected. And then he’s caught only 10 days after trying one last assault for old time’s sake? No, the gears were turning, but DeAngleo ensured his own downfall. I’m sure he’s thinking the same thing now.”
Well, Wendy is into astrology and all things New Age, and who am I deny a woman’s intuitive wisdom with my masculine techno obsession? Maybe both of us are right. Maybe technological progress and karma work hand in hand. Or we need to make sure that the right karma guides our technological progress, which has the distinct potential of enabling a totalitarian panopticon society. Big Data collectors, private and governmental, are recording every tidbit of our daily lives, including the most private thing of all: our DNA profiles. As usual, there will be benefits and downsides to the new technology. It’s our job to regulate the Great Reset — urban concentration, the end of cash and credit cards for digital “wallets”, online shopping and the obsolescence of retail stores, self-driving fleet cars, facial recognition and more data harvesting via ubiquitous 5G, contact tracing for pandemics, and the general end of absolute privacy— properly, keeping elite psychopaths and pedophiles in corporations and certain government agencies from indulging their own control-freak perversions. Personally, however, I will be happy to supply my DNA profile to databases if it will help identify more of these murderous SOBs. A lot of them are still out there in hiding, dreading the knock on the door now.
I relished the courtroom karma as DeAngelo was forced to listen to victims’ impact statements for three days, including this line by one of his rape victims: “Did his little penis drive him to be so angry all the time?” The one characteristic that his rape survivors agreed upon (most were bound, gagged and blindfolded): he had a “very inadequate penis,” as one prosecutor recited, igniting a gale of schadenfreude laughter in the audience.
Had his victims not been gagged, they might well have asked: “Excuse me, but am I being raped now? Sorry, but I can’t really tell. I do feel something down there… is that your pinky finger?”
Before this public humiliation, DeAngelo was forced to drop his tighty whiteys so the little midget dick could be recorded by a police photographer. And his frail old man act — like Harvey Weinstein scooting along on his walker — was busted as prosecutors showed a surveillance video from his jail cell: DeAngelo spryly climbing up on a table to shade a light fixture, mopping the floor with his foot, and doing exercises. The one video they acknowledged but didn’t show: DeAngelo masturbating as he peered out the tiny door window of his cell. Poor guy, there’s always at least a dim light on in these cells, so he can’t even whack off now with any expectation of privacy. But at least the photos of his pygmy penis haven’t been hacked or leaked and gone viral… yet. I’m sure Hustler would pay a good bounty for them.
Until then, I can hope for the “fantasy punishment” offered by one of the rape victim’s husband in the hearings: that masked inmates break into, or are allowed into, DeAngelo’s prison cell. They bind and blindfold him, put him face down on the cold concrete floor, and rape him for the next three hours — as he did to many of his terrified victims, including a 13-yr.-old girl, which makes him a good candidate for buttfucking in the penitentiary. “Future inmates of Joe DeAngelo,” the husband closed, “if you hear this, remember what I have said.”
Yes, that is hateful, but justly so. I should feel guilty for contemplating it, but I don’t. There are credits and debts to be paid in our half-savage karmic sphere. If DeAngelo pays some of his debt before dying, maybe he’ll be reincarnated as something above a cockroach or tapeworm.