List of Previous Titles

Sunday, March 29, 2009

I am Not a Monster


Beautiful Salzburg, Austria



Josef Fritzl does not like being described as a Monster. You will recall that he is the “gentleman” from Austria who took his own daughter hostage and enslaved her as his sex object. He held her against her will for 24 long years in a downstairs sealed apartment where he fathered seven children with her.

One of the children needed urgent medical care at an early age, however he was adamant that there would be no medical intervention, so the child died. For this he was charged with murder.

Because of the nature of the offences allegedly committed he was further charged with numerous acts of rape, too numerous to count, and with incest.

Perhaps Mr. Fritzl is correct, the word monster does seem tame under the circumstances.

In my opinion, for any father to have sexual relations with his own child is to qualify him as a monster of the highest degree. I cannot even imagine what goes through a person’s mind to make him think that would be justified. For any female to experience being treated with such disdain and disrespect is not something that any man can imagine, even those who commit the offence. The exception to this is when it’s a man on the receiving end from another man.

When the aggressor is her own father, the one person upon whom she is supposed to be able to count on for protection, she surely must believe that this world is putrid beyond belief.

There are some other elements to this story that are even more important. I wonder what was in the mind of Mrs. Fritzl. Oh yes! There is a Mrs. Fritzl. As widely reported, her name is Rosemarie and she is approximately 69 years of age. She lived in the upstairs part of the very same house under which her daughter was being held for all those years. She was told by her husband that their daughter had run away from home and joined a cult. Then he showed up with three of his children/grandchildren for her to care for, explaining that they were her daughter’s for whom the daughter could not care for.

In researching this story, incredibly other media have printed the names of all the players. I disapprove of that. I think that it is insensitive to the burden that the children/grandchildren already have to bear, so I will refrain from doing so.

Many people absolutely refuse to believe that the wife had no idea of what was going on. However, it should be borne in mind that he did not intend that she know. The bunker itself was actually under the backyard, rather directly below the house, so the sounds of crying children were adequately muffled.

His daughter was 19 when he lured her into what was to become her home for the next 24 years. She is now 42 and very deeply troubled. I try to imagine what his rape of her was like that first time, and my mind shuts down. I just can’t go there. And all those subsequent times when he entered the bunker for sex. I can hear her pleading “Daddy, please, not again!”

The ages of the children are as follows: Girl, 19, boy, 18, girl, 16, girl, 14, boy, 12, boy, 5. Three of the children had never seen daylight since they were born.

There are two things that disturbs me about the children: How will they cope, especially since everybody in Austria knows who they are, and they all bear this man’s evil seed. I suppose that they could be given social counselling and transferred to another country and given new identities, but there is still the matter of the evil seed that they carry, and they will all know about how they came into the world. How does one rise above such a horrific beginning?

Fritzl was once an honourable man in the eyes of those who knew him, but now that the truth is out he felt the need to hide his face. I imagine that one of the worst punishments for anyone to suffer is to lose their honour. Once it’s gone, it’s gone forever.

So, Herr Fritzl, you may not think you’re a monster but in the eyes of the world you are the ultimate monster. As for me, all I know is that you thoroughly disgust me. Your crimes are against humankind because they are crimes against your own family. I have no idea as to what would be the proper punishment for you within the law. I note that there is a suggestion that you be jailed for the rest of your miserable life, and that you be given treatment. This outraged me until I remembered that treatment can take many forms.

On its face Austria is a place of breathtaking beauty and culture. Everything seems to be in place, and it seems to work like the finest clock. However, Austria needs to look inwards and ask itself whether it is reasonable that it gave to the world, apart from Josef Fritzl, Wolfgang Priklopil who abducted Natascha Kampusch whom he held for eight years, but not always underground or even indoors; and it also gave us as its president Kurt Waldheim, a “former” nazi. He also served for five years as UN Secretary-General. (I can hear your breath stop.)

The worst thing to date that Austria has given to the world is one of its sons, Adolf Hitler. For this it should forever be in an apologetic state to all of humankind. Were it not for the fact that it also gave us Arnold Schwarzenegger we might have a totally dismal view of this country.

Copyright © 2009 Eugene Carmichael

Sunday, March 22, 2009

Australia


Australia-The Land Down Under




It’s an amazing thing that in spite of the fact that Australia is so large we could fit all of Europe within it, and still have space left over, I hardly know anything about it. However, lately news from Australia seems to be a regular feature. I have always regarded that country in the same sense as the downstairs neighbours. You know they are there, but they can be ignored.

As a young person the only thing I knew about the country was that they would not admit any people of colour. A government minister from my country who was black, had to attend a Commonwealth conference that was held in Australia. In order for him to be admitted he was given a certificate naming him as an “Honorary White”. He was mortified, and he used his time for speech to castigate the government for their policies.

From my viewpoint at that time, I considered that any country that was that stupid was probably also very dangerous. I resolved that they would never have to worry about me coming to visit. That was a long time ago. Since then, my wife, who is British with a sister living in Australia, took our son for a visit so that he could make his acquaintance with his cousins. He fell in love with the place, and now, two years later, at the age of 18, he has gone back on his own accord for a year’s work/study. He could not have chosen a more event filled year to be there.

There have been killer floods in the north, out of control fires in Victoria, (that is located to the north of Melbourne;) and a typhoon that has ravaged the east coast. I have always had the impression that the country was a very dangerous place. There are creatures on the loose that can rip a man to shreds. Those are the women of Australia, commonly known as Sheila’s. The animals are even more vicious.

I was very touched by the dramatic impact of the fires that took the lives of some 200 persons and destroyed so much property. To be told that some of those fires were deliberately set out of mischief is a body blow that is felt from even this distance.

I must admit that I have mellowed somewhat as the country has changed a great deal. However, I would really have to be desperate to go there. Our son booked his own flight and bought his own ticket. We live in Spain and I thought he would fly to London, then on to Australia across Africa with perhaps a stop-over in Indonesia. He chose to fly London direct to Los Angeles, then direct to Sydney, before changing planes to fly to Melbourne. That was the long way round, although cheaper. He sat on airplanes for more than thirty hours, plus he had waiting times of another ten hours. Only a young person with stamina could do that. As I say, I would have to really be desperate to go there via any route.

As far as I can tell, Australia is a dream world for a student taking a gap year for adventure. He has gone there for the purpose of developing his independence, so we are not getting blow-by-blow accounts of his trials and tribulations, but we do understand that he is fully engaged and enjoying the experience. We believe that he is meeting up with other young people who are backpacking and that he is learning a great deal from the university of life.

The world has changed so much and continues to do so before our eyes. To be young, free and adventurous in this age must be a wonderful thing. As for me, my sense of “get up and go” has long gone.

Copyright © 2009 Eugene Carmichael

Saturday, March 14, 2009

The Lowest of the Low



I have been following a case through the courts that is especially instructive as to the depths one person can sink in their inhumanity to man. This is not an example from a war torn area. Places like Germany, the United States, South Africa, Zimbabwe, Eastern Europe, Iraq, and various other parts of Africa are replete with examples of how depraved humans can be, but this is a story from a wealthy country at peace.

The facts are as follows: A distinguished gentlemen has lived to reach the age of 100, while maintaining his independence. However, his ability to get around on his own was diminishing, and his capability of looking after himself really required that he be given some help. An agency was contracted to send a caregiver. They chose a 47-year-old female who held herself out as a family person and a devout Christian.

She began her care of the gentleman, but after only a few months it was noticed that his spending habits had altered. He had been receiving a pension of $1,400 per month, against which he spent $1,300. However, he had a savings account of $110,000 that he was not touching. Perhaps he should have been finding the odd thing or two to amuse himself, but as he had outlived all his friends and relatives, except one, who lived in another country, he had no-one to share his life with.

A neighbour noticed that the caregiver had moved in with her client, bringing her family with her. The elderly gentleman had been moved from the part of the house that he loved, the part with the view of the sea, and was placed in a small room at the back of the house.

A brand new car appeared at the house, and on the surface he appeared to be reasonably happy. He did not complain when the relative called to check on him, however, the neighbour sensed that something was awry. A call was placed to the relative suggesting that they might like to look into the current state of affairs.

What that investigation uncovered was the following: The caregiver soon discovered that the old man had a very healthy balance at the bank, so she convinced her client that it would be cheaper for him to hire her direct. She resigned from the agency, thereby excluding them from monitoring her activities; then she convinced him to give her Power-of-Attorney, although she was neither an attorney nor a blood relative.

Armed with that document she completely took over his life. She told him what he could or could not do. She made him give up his preferred space in the house, and she spent his money as though it were her own for personal things for herself and her family. When she was caught his account had been depleted by $90,000.

Adjectives fail me. I can only say that a special place is reserved for this woman and her husband in hell. To steal from someone such as this gentleman is to show such utter disrespect to all seniors, and in particular to herself. I’m thinking of appropriate names for her, but I will keep them to myself. You can think of your own list.

As disturbing as the actions of this very depraved person are, I am upset with others who should have stood up for the gentleman. Firstly, the Agency who sent the caregiver must have seen that her resignation meant that a private deal had been struck between their client and the caregiver. That is one of the fundamental protections that they must surely be responsible to guard against. In my opinion, they should be held responsible for his losses.

Secondly, she applied a Power-of-Attorney over the assets of someone for whom she had no basis to be granted such power. Perhaps were she his next-of-kin a good case might have been made, but under those circumstances it would have been far better for his attorney to have held that power so that any requests for disbursements could have been monitored. Instead, the law firm actually complied. They did not have to do so. Instead, if he insisted they could have referred the matter to the department of Social Services.

Finally, when a citizen reaches a certain age, I always thought that the Department of Social Services takes a particular interest in their welfare. It seems to me that they should look into the living structure of such senior citizens to ensure that they are not being taken advantage of by the unscrupulous. Apparently this is not happening.

There were three hurdles to the caregiver being able to abuse her client. She crossed them all without any problem. They are all in one way or another in the business of providing care to the community, especially those who are not able to fend for themselves adequately. They all failed miserably! May the caregiver rot in hell!

Copyright © 2009 Eugene Carmichael

Sunday, March 8, 2009

Bad Decisions



I have been watching a series by National Geographic that recreates the consequences of bad decisions taken by individuals. The individuals themselves usually relate the stories, so we can say that they are lucky to have survived their own stupidity to talk about it.

It never fails to amaze me that we do things that we realize at the time are stupid and harmful to ourselves, but we do them anyway. I have done my fair share of stupid things, (nothing actually illegal) and as I view such stories I have to say I’m very glad it wasn’t me who was the subject of the presentation.

Usually the events involve the police, customs, or rescue services, or all of the above. I am moved to write this as I hope it might help some young person. The latest story involved a young man in Miami (USA) who fell in love with a cute young girl of seventeen who said that she was married and the victim of an abusive husband. She approached our young man in a tearful state bearing a cut lip, saying that her husband had beaten her. She was never going to go back to him, but she had no idea where she was going to stay.

Our hero came to the rescue by offering to let her stay with him. It developed that she was a cocaine addict who always had enough for herself and a friend or two. (Clue No. 1.)

He fell madly in love with her and eventually she said that she had been made an offer to fly to Mexico to bring back cocaine for a price, but she needed someone to come with her to watch her back. He said no way, but eventually he agreed with the stipulation that he will not carry any drugs himself.

Once they arrived they were met by their contacts who restricted their movements and ensured that they were dependent on their hosts for money and accommodation. Then, in a surprise move the hosts said that they wanted the girl to leave a couple of days ahead of him to limit suspicion. (Clue No. 2.)

Along the way she was seen to speak with certain people with more familiarity than that of complete strangers, and that did puzzle him a bit. (Clue No. 3.)

She left but didn’t call him when she got back to the United States. The drug dealers suddenly came to his room in a very angry mood demanding to know where she was. They say that she took off without the drugs, so he will have to take the drugs himself. He very reluctantly does so, and the last security officer he had to pass discovered that he was carrying contraband and he was arrested.

I have worked as a customs agent with the specific task of busting drug runners. I want to offer a bit of advice to any person who might be thinking about doing something as stupid as smuggling drugs.

“The thing that you are now getting around to thinking of doing is something that professional drugs agents have been stopping for a long time.”

In the case of the young man in our story, he was set-up from the start. The girl was paid to recruit naive young men into doing her bidding through getting them to fall in love with her. He should have paid attention to the fact that she always had a stock of cocaine. Where did it come from? How did she afford it?
Based on that fact alone he needed to shake her free. She was trouble with a capital “T”.

He resisted going to Mexico to take part in a smuggling operation because he knew it was a crazy and self-destructive thing to do. So, why did he do it?

He should have paid particular attention to the people whom she had out of earshot conversations with in a familiar manner. Although she said that she had never done anything like that which they were engaged in, she clearly had travelled this route before.

A person who agrees to take drugs through customs is called a mule. Another name for a mule is an ass, a name that is well deserved. I will not betray my oath of office by divulging the specifics of a custom officer’s training, but here are some common sense thoughts. An experienced customs officer can spot a mule from the moment he steps into the airport or dock, or crossing. The suspect might give himself/herself away by nerves and sweat, or be super cool. More than once people have been busted because the officer asked a question, received an answer, paused to consider what was said and asked again.

In the case we are considering our traveller did not even have a carry-on suitcase. The dealers taped six kilos of cocaine to his body so he even had some difficulty in walking. What’s more, they drove him to the airport and dropped him off in plain sight of the departure desks. From the moment he stepped out of that car he was a marked man.

He got through the previous security checks because officials were probably playing a little game with him. They let him get deep within the network so that he felt he could relax, and then they sprung their trap.

While telling his tale he completely missed two points: One, he said again and again, that if only the officer hadn’t actually touched him gently on his back to assist him along he would have gotten away with it. He seemed to think that the officer’s touch was accidental. It wasn’t! Trust me. Secondly, he refused to believe that his girlfriend had betrayed him. He said “There was no way she would have done such a thing!”

Oh Yeah?

He was sentenced to eight years in a very dirty Mexican prison. Anybody still think it might be worth it to smuggle drugs?

Copyright © 2009 Eugene Carmichael

Sunday, March 1, 2009

Black & White



I am in the process of reading President Barack Obama’s first book, “Dreams from my Father” which relates to his early life. He was born in Hawaii of a white mother from Kansas and a black father from Kenya. He spent a large part of his early years in Hawaii and in Indonesia, before moving to New York as a young idealized man. Finally he settled in Chicago.

I found it quite interesting to note that his journey of self discovery involved, more or less the same confusion of a young black man whose both parents were black. My reasoning is that if one of your parents is white, and you have white relatives, why would you go through a process of demonising white people if your relatives were kind to you?

I think that many people no longer even know what the difference between being a Negro is and what being black is. What is the difference between being a Caucasian or being a White person? I believe that most people think it’s the same thing, but I beg to differ.

The dictionary says that to be Caucasian is to be a part of the White or light-skinned division of mankind. In other words, of the Caucasian tribe. According to Wikipedia, the name appears to have been developed by a German scientist and classical anthropologist, Johann Freidrich Blumenbach, around 1800. He based the name on the people from the Caucasus region of Russia, including Georgia, because he deemed these people to represent the archetype of the race.

The Nazis took the whole concept to an even higher and ridiculous level insisting that having fair skin was not enough. You had to conform to definite measurements to be accepted into the club. Generally, in very early times it might be said that whites came from the northern hemisphere, and other races from the more sunny south.

It is not my intention to go too deeply into the subject, but the thing that is evident upon just scratching the surface is that this is a very thorny matter. However, what is not debated is that Caucasians and Negroes fundamentally differ in our approach to life. This is as it is supposed to be, and our challenge is to get along and succeed in spite of our differences.

The Wikipedia definition of Negro is to be of Black ancestry. In the languages of Spanish and Portuguese Negro means black. However, until the early to mid sixties the race was described as Negro or, in polite circles, “Coloured.” Then came the struggle for civil rights and we began to hear the term Black used in various connotations. There was “Black Power”, and “Black Rights”, and “Black People.” Because of the circumstances of its introduction into common language I believe it represents an attitude rather than a colour.

You could not say that you were Negro, and not Black without drawing down upon you the most severe condemnation. Even to day, in certain highly militant circles you cannot belong and express an admiration for things outside the circle’s approved list.

As a development in the right direction, if you don’t wish to be seen as a black man, or as a polite descriptive usage you are allowed the use of “African-whatever”. President Obama, who apparently some people still seem to think is Irish, (O’Bama), is described as America’s first African-American president. That was a very important step for America to take as they have broken the sacred mould of “white and male” as president in favour of simply the best person available.

If we accept that black and white represent attitudes, it can then follow that there will be people who can hold black attitudes while being Caucasian, and vice-versa. Who says that we have to remain absolutely within the club in which we were born. To be able to move about and to contribute to and take from other cultures is how we grow and live life to the full.

Copyright © 2009 Eugene Carmichael