Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Prime Time

by: Peter Sotos

A long fat forefinger and an old bent thumb pulled alongside of a tiny bald vagina to open it up; see how far it could spread and what it would look like. The digits pressed in and squeezed the chubby flesh as hard in as it would stretch, The cunt was dry. As in not cummed in or on, rather than naturally unlubricated as the child was obviously far younger than even prepubescent. This would be the position to investigate the damage wrought on any such childish organ. To see if there were any immediate entry scratches or vicious bites or the faint red burns of a too large adult cock or finger or wooden tool or mass-market plastic dildo having been shoved too thick, too long, too quick, too unready, too uncaring into the minute space just beyond that barely folded, tight shut opening.

The fingers would peel that tiny tot’s cunt open to see what would fit. So far. And what wouldn’t and guess at the damage it might cause, the trail it might leave and the suddenly sobering possibilities of intense public outrage and the crush and arrest and life sentence of a child raper and murderer would have to endure. And would this be worth it. This little cunt attached to a little mouth and flat flesh stretched politely over such small brittle bones and miniature blushes and games and tears and eyes.

It never was innocent. Unless innocence means dumb. It was barely human. Too few years here. And there’s no need to twist the little pig into something less than real: inside that disastrously planned little hole lies all the exact same minutiae that’ll grow up and turn and mold into all the other wonderful possibilities of femaledom and motherhood and great accomplishments and sisterly sense. It’s all there now. Painted with the rules and guides of its absent parents and blossoming into them cancerous knot by knot.

The cunt is small. And still so fucking shut tight that the womb  that stenches inchoate beneath the pit is all just one small detail in the bigger truth of someone else’s cruelty. The body is incomplete. The nature is arrested. The changes were just beginning to show and the flesh ready to register more the damage done to it than the promise created for it.

The man who took the photo - filling the frame with nothing but fingers and child slash - must have been interested in the crime rather than the autopsy. The lack of detail is extreme. The photo is a record of the act the hand performed rather than the budding secrets of a child’s artful fascinating vagina. Though the photo can be a perfect replica of both; the crueler intention certainly seems reflected in the fact that the published reproduction crops in so much finer, so much action. Although the long tips of these ages and clawing fingers may be included to give size to the comparatively very small, very young cunt. Below the possible that there were not two men in the room when this shot was taken. In the hotel room. Which would have been best. One hard-on’d rapist to hold the little bawling duct-taped fuckable rat down and then spread her wriggling baby cunt as far as baby sexy flesh would spread between his two dirty smelling-like-her-guts, while the other fucker sits across from the sexualized sweaty rape and snaps as many photos as he can before he needs to jam his own fingers into the little death before she dies or stops crying and faints and ruptures and begs even one more long hard jacking pumping cock squeezing second.

Hold her down.

Tighter. Hold her head back.

One fuck ate her baby feet, the other at her baby blonde head; two naked lazy slobs with full engorged adult genitalia and wrinkles and spots and skin tags and heated plans all over; towering, forcing, cajoling, laughing, shadowing the tiniest little four-or-five or six-year-old girl sat forever in the darkened middle.

One hand stretched the cunt open before the inside wall rip, as far outside as the pork flesh will allow before breaking into evidence. Another hand holds her tiny wrists together, rubbing mean, between five pushing and pulling determined fingers. His cock shaking and jutting all over her last use of eyes and burning brain and denial mechanisms and memory. Another set of hands encourages position. Masturbates grinds pokes and deftly records by the small plastic and metal camera like mom and dad used attention-soaking holidays and acting lessons.

Alternatively: one man with one hand around the special naked darling’s filthy clean cunt and the other hand on his camera. He may have her sat in front of him, so that his probing hand and arm are bent up and pointed down at the elbow. His head down and staring at his work. He might have her laid down flat beneath him, his heavy fat weight and hairy manhandled balls and slung strange frightening penis dangling back and forth into her baby fresh face. A bouncing thick cock glistening at the tip with seeping disgusting dollops of drooling pre-cum. Ready, by dint of mother nature, to wet any hole regardless of its own design or interests.

Have you ever masturbated with child pornography?

The way one is meant to? For the reason it is created? The difficulty in obtaining it, the dangers in even owning it, the sickness one has to trundle through to come to one small, barely realized desire.

With a fucking magazine. The manufactured and professionally reproduced and planned issues like the European INCEST 4. The only one the police took from me.

Or with videos. Or with five-minute 8mm films. The way I did when I was much younger. The kind I used to buy from a faggot pedophile out of his gold coast basement in Chicago. Who I met while pursuing an entirely different form of entertainment.

“Section II-20.I (a) (2) makes criminal the mere possession of child porngraphy. The State claims that the statute is a valid attempt by the State to protect its children by prohibiting the private possession of child pornography. The State contends that it has a compelling interest in protecting its children which overcomes this defendant’s right to privacy within his home. This is so, the State argues, because the value of pornography is de minimus.”

It’s just one small part of one small girl. In a high-contrast black and white snap done in extreme close-up. And if it didn’t look so small next to the fat fingertips and stretched so tightly painfully barely open, one could argue that it could be anything. Anything like some adult fresh out of illegality, shaved and trimmed and short for her porn star by-the-piece peroxide age. But this show. In its violence. Is unequivocal.

And it sits in the middle of this thin Rodox-printed 8x10 size magazine of distinct child pornography. All the other pictures are clear in age and intent and, perhaps, sadly, less violent. Less cruel. Less Direct. But in context, where the close-up informs the more traditional cts and crimes, rather than vice-versa, the entire little magazine takes a shift towards the sadistic and away from the celebrated or revelatory.

Black and white shots of a little girl stripping off in the front seat of a car. Spreading her legs and smiling as the cameraman catches her bald slit and instructed sold naughtiness. Kneel. Up. Push your hair back.

A tiny baby held upside down. Between two large long hairy arms and meaty hands clasping its delicate toddler shoulders and head aimin its tiny naked col cunt spread towards the beast’s ugly thick semi-flaccid cock very close to where penetration would be a screaming killing rape. Less than a girl, this one. Too young to know anything. Too young to take in anything but the spin. Far too young to fuck even beyond this particular pose unless one’s customers, like me, are primarily interested in buying filth that proves death and pain. I’d like to see her head nailed to a fucking board afterwards. When the frustration gives way from cock to coke bottle.

Skinny short arms on a blonde girl balance her awkward lean on a single bed as some standing pedophile slides what will fit of his hard cock into her pushed-in face.

The next page is a slight close-up of the next minute or so. The pre-teen blonde gets further away. But. Her tongue extends out to his glans, pink tip poking into piss-hole and one of her bony hands trying to cup his fat handing busy balls just like he told her to.

This is what I do.

This is what I remember.

These are the names I give the little cunts and cocks I saw in magazines and films and slides and accounts being molested in ways feminists, psychiatrist, sociologists, reporters, cops, victims, parents and pedophiles explained to me.

In particular.
JonBenet Ramsey.

1. What do you think about when you jack off?

A little girl with long curly black hair to her shoulders and in her big brown eyes looks at the camera lens she was director to and slowly sings a counting song. She’s wearing a print country-style dress in a warm country-style ranch room in, no doubt, a big safe country-style wood and brick ranch home.

The cameraman moves in while she sings, so by the end of the commercial, I’m left with just her soft white cheeks and pouty child mouth and little nose and large eyes all gently framed by that soft black hair. The bottom of the screen frame, however, intrudes even more violently as the little safe face gets bigger and closer. Perfectly. As it details what makes this little, maybe six-year-old, raven so much more special than any typical degenerate pedophile focus:

“This is Kat
Her stepfather forces sex on her
He says he’ll hurt her mother
If she tells”

She’s got pretty white teeth and she smiles to show them as the commercial ends. “1800-4-A-CHILD. CHILDHELP USA. KEEP THE LINES OPEN.”

Geraldo Rivera was kind enough to include this and various other PSA’s concerning child sexual abuse as part of the “Exposing the Last Taboo” episode of his eponymous daytime talk show.

Broadcast about seven months after JonBenet Ramsey was murdered, Geraldo used JonBenet’s case to highlight the need for understanding the disaster to children that is sexual molestation and um, apparently, murder.

Geraldo explained his case at the outset: “I think the way to abolish the last taboo is to expose it.” To which, his special guest Marilyn Van Derbur Atler gilded: “There is no way to change it unless we understand it.”

Marilyn is a wrinkled, oddly, tight, smartly dressed, prim looking, white haired, old former Miss America who as “advisor to the prosecution in the JonBenet case” has appeared on countless TV and radio talk shows and news programs detailing her own abuse at the hands of her millionaire father since the age of five. She talks regularly about the help she provided the attorneys investigating JonBenet’s murder as related to her own pageant and incest survivor status.

She often serves to remind one of what rich pampered molested Barbie dolls will grow into if allowed to make it past the age of six, perhaps.

2. How often do you play with yourself?

Every week since JonBenet’s death comes another crop of tabloids most often with a shot of and a garish blurb about the little made-up pre-six-year-old on the cover. The Globe, one of the four main tabloids, in virtually consistent. Every weekly issue for almost three years has had a feature, with pictures of the bright red-lip’d little doll.

And every week I pick through and buy the tabloids, with the articles and photos of her. Available everywhere. I cut out the pictures and check the content and keep them in private files. I’m quick to remove the JonBenets from the supermarket celebrity crap that surrounds her and slider her back into my own specific context. Where I use her as pornography.

Marilyn Van Derbur Atler: “The average age of a child violated for the first time is six.”
Geraldo Rivera: “Really? That’s how old JonBenet Ramsey is. Was.”

3. Who taught you to jack off?

Fourteen year old Kandace, a seventh grader, who Geraldo’s been letting tell her story, wants to read a poem to her father.

“What you’ve done, I can’t undo.
Times you molested me, I can’t forget about you.
I feel so dirty, yet I’m clean.
I take a bath but it sticks like glue.
How you disgraced me; how could you do this.
I was just a little innocent girl without a clue.”

Geraldo tells her: “It’s lovely. It really is lovely.”

At the end of the show he lets Kandace have another minute for a personal message to her father. Geraldo tells her to look straight into the camera. And Kandace tells the cameraman about how she’s got friends now and that they’ll help her if he- the father, the lens- ever touched her or anyone again:

“You’re not gonna have a [beep] left.”

The propriety that pervades such brutal truths, and, more importantly, the noble need to expose such brutality, is one that all of us, pedophiles and avengers, quickly learn to operate around. The dreaded point makes it through the wire, and the details that heat more intensely in your brain that in your ears will just have to do.

4. What is your favorite kind of sex?

Slow motion shots of little JonBenet modeling down the runway during one of her Little Miss Beauty Pageants. Her child face all done up in make-up the way her mother would wear. The lipstick on her baby lips target all the sex she doesn’t yet understand forever. Over the footage of this little made-up bag of bones and lessons comes a stuttering voice recorded over a phone line. Adult. Female.

“I was molested by my grandfather as far back as I can remember till I was 13 years old. I never told anyone,

“I always wanted attention ‘cause that’s all I thought I was good for.”

It turns out that “Anne” had called the Geraldo show to offer her thoughts personal revelation and disturbances over a recent broadcast about JonBenet. “Anne” wanted to let the Geraldo show know that she thought someone should check out “any male people in (JonBenet’s) life” and especially John Ramsey because “it really bothers me.”

The footage of JonBenet displaying her kiddie wares cut to “Anne,” 29, now sitting on the panel and broken down in tears next to 14-year old Kandace. Geraldo was so touched by her confession of personal pain that he offered her a chance to tell, live on his show, more people than just a private recorded phone line manned by TV producers. About herself. And others just like her About JonBenet. Except still living.

And, as it turned out, while not a beauty queen, “Anne” was a failed entertainer who could blame her lust for fame on the abuse she suffered.

One grows accustomed to the specious connections that those who have suffered through abuse make to this abuse that hopefully little JonBenet has suffered. It is somewhat more acceptable when the details are immediately juxtaposed, or even better, read over the top of pageant footage.

5. Describe your first fucking around as a boy.

Rose West would sit on a couch across from her husband Fred and spread wide her legs. Look at that, she’d say addressing her splayed-open cunt to her husband’s attention. I bet you wish you had something to fill that up, she’d say, or something approximate. And Fred would love it. He and she were in on the same joke. His wife spending most of her day fucking nigger after nigger in the hopes of finding bigger and bigger cocks.

There was a book of photos the husband and wife kept, one of the many such albums and videos devoted to their personal dedication to sexual documentation. And this particular one was specially concerned with shots of Rose’s cunt in various stages of slack opened and raw fuckedness.

Cunts get that way, don’t they.

And it doesn’t necessarily have to come from sitting on the wrong ends of jungle-sized nigger dicks minute after minute, does it.

Because these old whores age badly. Don’t they. Those old beaten horses, drooping sagging pinched flesh and craters and divots and pits, age into widened folded and hung slabs around which bodies still convinced of some small sense of worth, try and smile and tuck and primp the ways they did back when they were firm at eighteen, firmer at fourteen. And they still don’t get it. Do they.

A review in AVN (The Adult Video News) for the video Deep Throat Debi doesn’t go halfway to describe what really goes on in the 74 minutes amateur porn video:

“The formula for this four-scene video is simple. Debi blos a well-hung black man for several minutes, then he fucks her in multiple positions and comes on her face. The sex isn’t bad, but the couple is so determined to let us know how much they really enjoy themselves that hubby comes from behind the camera and does an impression of a zamboni, licking the jizz off her face and chest in broad circles.”

Debi is a pockmark riddled skull on a withered rag body closer to the disaster of a middle-aged white trash crack whore. Her ass is flab mottled with cellulite and while her gangly frame is abused skinny, her tits even sag deflated under the weight of huge pruned brown nipples and various faded tattoos.

The effect is less:
“The action is kept at a steady pace throughout the video with good camera work and very enthusiastic participants.”

And more: fat niggers getting sucked off by a garbaged hooker who may like her job just a little more due to her size queen husband who gets off sucking the nigger cum out of her distended cunt and licking it off her grizzled face.

6. What’s the best sex scene you’ve ever had?

I like the word “little” best. I like the way it gets attached to specific names and  cases by anonymous and/or cloying men in professional capacities.

The commercial that immediately preceded the first show that Gordon Elliot did on the jonBenet murder case featured the title “WHAT HAPPENED TO LITTLE JONBENET RAMSEY” stapled over a frozen still of the 6-year old’s little adult-painted baby face.

And wrapped inside was another favorite surprise. Little JonBenet got her little dead baby dissected by Gordon’s special kid-gloved Marc Klaas. There’s no better way to fuck a little child than to have her parents do it for you. And there’s no better way to watch fucked children than to watch someone who knows how to keep fucking it just right. Someone who knows what happens and how it works and what it looks like and what it’ll sound like when he opens his gump to say the words that only he can pick out so carefully.

Marc Klaas brings with him all the loud details of his cause. The cause that he has dedicated his new life to now that his daughter is gone. And through the foundation he and his wife run out of his home, appearing on talk shows to enlighten the viewing communities about the best way to protect your children is but one important fact.

“Petitioner removed his sweatshirt, opened a condom wrapper, and unrolled the condom onto his penis. He then gathered the nightgown under the victim’s armpits and inverted her white mini-skirt over her hips and pelvis, pushing it up her body. Whether petitioner ultimately ejaculated is unknown: the victim’s body had decomposed to a point where forensic testing for penetration was not possible; any semen that might have been present in the condom may have been washed away by the elements; and during police interrogation, petitioner himself said only, ‘You guys soon find that out.’”

7. Do you like to give dick or take it better?

The best way to masturbate is to use someone else’s head. Faggots who need to suck any cock that comes their way and nigger drunk or cranked whore who need to suck any cock that comes they way. Compulsion, for inclusion, for inversion, for sex, for money, for more drugs and drink and more poverty back home and nothing else ever better.

Some faggots on their knees in gloryholed peep show booths will put condoms on the cock you give them. They’ll reach into their back pockets and ask you if you mind. Nigger whores who don’t use condoms are usually very unhealthy just like most of the queers who do their job bareback. Some fags hope you can’t get sick by ucking cock and have the medical data about membrane fissures and stomach acids, as well as their penicillin quick fixes to prove it. Some nigger cunts hope to give HIV to you but still don’t want your pig’s cum in their mouths.

“The position of the body, coupled with Davis’ past crimes and the unrolled condom found at Pythian Road led investigators to suspect Polly had been raped or at least molested before death.”

That Marc’s 12-year old daughter Polly watched those fat greasy fingers unroll the condom up that greasy fat cock with her last minutes the way faggots might help or niggers might hide is something you’ll never know- definitely- until Richard Allen Davis can be trusted enough to tell you and Marc Klaas.

Mr. Klaas offers up sympathy for Mr. and Mrs. Ramsey.

“These people are in the worst emotional state anybody can be in. They’re in a place that oftentimes people are not able to get out of. They’re in a dark room looking for a way out. And sometimes people don’t find a way out.”

But Mr. Klaas basks in more virtue that he’ll allow the newest famous parents of a murdered child on the block:

“I think it’s a type of psychological child abuse. Is what I think. Six-year olds should not be sexually provocative.”

That warm mouth and the tongue technique or hard sucking jaws or whatever the beast on the sloppy end of your cock brings to the party is rendered largely blank by the tight latex covering your hard-on. Which is perfect. You have to look down to see what to feel. Their knees in filth, their inability to do anything else, their ghetto sale, their pock-holes and drug rot, their 12-year old face that left nighttime makeup stains on the hood when placed over her head.

Gordon Elliot continues to draw out Marc’s informed opinions on the likes of a six year old parading around in clothes designed for older, more world weary whores. “It eroticized her,” Gordon says. “She’s playing Barbie.” He forgives and then suggest that he knows the secret to eroticizing something:

“There’s a lot of people in this country who look at the babies in a very different light.”

Marc adds his personal pain to the mix again: “Beautiful little girl.” And “Who knows what she would have been when she grew up.” And finally:

Gordon: “You should like you’re talking about Polly.”

Marc: “Well, I am, aren’t I?”

8. How many cocksuckers have sucked you off?

Both Geraldo and Leeza invited family members and friends of the little raped and beaten black girl known as Girl X onto their respective programs. Both talk show hosts wanted to confront the possible racist inequities  of the media and public by discussing the relative lack of attention the crime against Girl X received when it occurred the very same Christmas week as the murder of JonBenet.

Girl X had been left for dead. By the stranger that raped and beat her retarded in a stairwell of the Cabrini Green Housing Projects in Chicago. She was nine years old, a fourth grader, and lived in one of the most notorious housing projects in the U.S. So the crimes against the children were virtually the same.

Geraldo: “I know that the girl was found with the gang graffiti scrawled on her abused and violated body.”

Geraldo also had the good sense to show footage of one of Girl X’s school friend screaming in tears at the bottom of one of the dirty rusted project stairwells having just received the news about the rape and brutal beating.

And while Leeza’s guests moaned about the media being so accustomed to black-on-black crime that the rape registered nary a blip on the national level, Geraldo made sure his audience knew it was a big story in Chicago by interviewing the newscasters and reporters who brought the locals as much information as was allowed.

Unlike JonBenet, Girl X was by law protected from being named or identified by whatever footage could be found of a typical little black girl growing up in the projects. And while bitching about the racism inherent in the lack of even general coverage, Leeza and Geraldo still tagged the black-on-black crime onto the footage of lily-white JonBenet.

The sad reality is that Girl X’s life makes better copy. But newscasters can’t call her project poverty no chance life miserable because of all the others sharing that life and watching it on TV at the same time, JonBenet’s life is better pornography because it is what is allowed.

9. What is the biggest number of cocks you sucked in one day?

On Geraldo’s primetime cable talk show - more respectably upmarket, investigative and, on the surface, less tabloidy - Rivera Live, Geraldo married a couple of JonBenets with Ryan Harris and Sherrice Iverson. Two other little black girls raped and murdered under glamorous circumstances. However, as Geraldo was obsessing over the Clinton/Lewinski blowjob, the public who had come to rely on Geraldo was robbed of their best chances.

10. What’s the youngest cock you ever blew?

Christopher Meyer. Ten years old.

The photo I keep of him (clipped from the Chicago Sun-Times) is the same one Geraldo kept showing. And the footage of him playing in a living room before he was murdered comes courtesy of Geraldo’s special show on child predators.

11. What is the biggest number of cocksuckers that blew you in one day?

Geraldo used this show to spotlight the crimes against Megan Kanka, Amber Haggerman, and Alicia and DeAnn Jones by sandwiching their cases and family pain between updates on the JonBenet case.

12. What is the biggest number of wads you shot in one day?

Geraldo mentions, before he runs over the Megan Kanka victim details, that her murderer Jesse Timmendequas was facing the first day of trial that day.

Court TV was allowed to broadcast live only the opening and closing statements in the case. As such, prosecutor Kathryn Flicker faced the jury (who were off camera) and recounted for the watching world Jesse’s confession. She read in a brave but disgusted and angry voice, careful to keep it all professional and fair:

“I tried to penetrate her with my penis for about two minutes and I couldn’t get it all the way in.”
“No matter how hard I tried to force it all the way in, I couldn’t get it in because she was too small.”
“I tried to penetrate her in her pussy.”
“Question. ‘Did you at any time try to have anal sex with Megan?’ Answer: ‘No. But I may have slipped when I was trying to penetrate her pussy.’”

Geraldo had lubed the stage earlier with photos of the little chubby-faced seven-year-old and the vivid report on her rape and murder:

“Once inside, he lures her to an upstairs bedroom. Strangles her unconscious with a belt. Rapes her. And asphyxiates her to death with a plastic bag. Then he places her small body into a tool box and drives her to a soccer field two and a half mile away where he dumps her body into the bushes.”

13. What has been your experience with women?

Mike Meyer is invited to talk about her sense of injustice and loss.

“It’s dying a thousand deaths every day. It’s walking around with you open heart surgery never being stitched up.”

Geraldo had just told the audience about mother Mika’s little boy Christopher:

“The little boy had been stabbed 53 times in the chest and the back. His genitals had been completely castrated.”

Then he introduced Glenda Hill, the sister of little Tara Sue Huffman, the five-year-old girl that was also murdered by the man who murdered Christopher.

Later, Geraldo would pounce outraged. Timothy Buss had served only 12 years in jail for the murder of Tara Sue and shortly after release murdered little Christopher. And he follows the same tack of brutal caring bravery with Glenda as he did with Mika when he asked her to “remind them about how exactly Timothy Buss murdered your son.”

Geraldo: “What did he do to your sister? He didn’t just murder her...”
Glenda: “No. After she was dead he stuck sticks up inside of her body. And... um... he bashed in the front of her face and... he beat her (starts to cry).”
Geraldo: “He served 12 years. Is that right?”

Cari Meyer, sister to the late little Christopher, sits in the audience and Geraldo walks to her and entreats her to talk about her brother. “It didn’t have to be him,” she says as the camera swings to Mika who has also now broken down.

14. Describe your first blowjob.

Geraldo continues:

“A man walking his dog discovers her nude body. Chalky white face down. Floating in a creek eight miles from where she had been abducted. Her throat had been slashed five times. Autopsy reports confirm Amber was also sexually molested.”

“Tell us about Amber.”

The mother starts to cry and her face is replaced by a shot of her nine-year-old daughter smiling with jagged teeth and bright blue eyes.

“She was my dream. She was never in trouble. She did no harm to nobody. She was an innocent little girl.”

A new photo of Amber holding a baby doll sitting next to her mother, both smiling, comes on next.

“How dare that man do this to my little girl. How dare he.”

15. Describe your best accomplishment in taking it up your asshole.

This is what I’ve been reduced to.

I’ve replaced photos and films of children having their pushed-up little faces cock fucked and their cookie  cutter orifices finger fucked with images of previously safe little darlings smiling before anything special has happened.

Because JonBenet looks prepared and because she smells like she has fucked and killed written all over the inside of her tightest crotch hugging swimsuit. What I recognize inside those sold and cropped and considered and financed photos is not so much what she looks like dead and raped but how much she looks like she’s got all those fingers on her. Adult fingers and adult mouths clamoring to suck on her six-year-old cunt positioning themselves in the midst of an angry hard-cock-based hard-news gangbang.

1. When were you first conscious of the female form, the girl with no hair? When were you conscious of that becoming important to you?

What does a little girl look like. Naked. Vulnerable. Waiting. Fucked. Crying. Posing for a photo that belongs to an art gallery rather than in my front cock pocket in my way into some gloryhole joint.

JonBenet in no photo I have of her is she belligerent. Or bratty. I have some where she looks away from where she’s supposed to and another where she yawns.

I have video footage filmed just a few days before she was murdered, of her singing Christmas carols, pretending to blow a sax during the instrument break and wiggling her little butt. First aired courtesy American Journal.

Geraldo played the Ramsey’s answering machine message where JonBenet squeaked:

“We’re having a great summer. Wish you were here!”

A 60 Minutes episode, broadcast about five months after JonBenet’s death, had a nice introduction to her stage act:

“JonBenet Ramsey!

She’d like to become an Olympic skater.

Her favorite star: Julie Andrews.

JonBenet loves to eat cherries.”

2. If you were to place the perfect girl in that chair with you as a target, what would she be? How old would she be?

Nearly seven months after the murder of JonBenet, the Denver investigators were forced to release her (partial) autopsy to the press. The orgy to figure out as close as possible to the truth whether JonBenet was molested was as thick as the report was vague.

All these well-intentioned vultures targeting this tiny inflamed barely six-year-old dead buried vagina.

Wolf Blitzer sat in for Larry King on his CNN talk show in front of an esteemed panel of reporters, attorneys, a child abuse expert and an ex-beauty queen incest victim.

Charlie Brennan (Rocky Mountain News):

“There is very strong indication that she suffered a degree of trauma to the genital area. And it may come down to a matter of semantical discussion as to whether the trauma to the genitals constitutes what we typically call sexual assault or whether that was more under the heading of what we would just call physical abuse. In my book, assault to the genital area—that says sexual assault to me but I think there are obviously a lot of people that may have different interpretations on that.”

Bob Grant (Adams County DA and a regular guest on Rivera Live), upset for the “human reason” that “intensely personal, private, clinical, graphic detail— not the kind of stuff that you want to hear at your breakfast table” has been released and pored over so meticulously.

“It’s just a shame that the memory of this beautiful child has to be sullied with this stuff.”

Marilyn Van Derbur Atler seeps into her favorite position and takes Grant to task. She barks again for full disclosure of all the “intimate details” so that the public can learn that “these children are pried open and raped—viciously.”

3. What would she be wearing? Picture her there in the chair, and look at the chair. Put her there.

Dr. Richard Krugman (child abuse expert, University of Colorado Medical Center—he appeared earlier in the day on MSNBC News, also discussing the autopsy, alongside Robert Ressler, the serial killer profiler expert):

“. . . and at the same time she had several other fresh abrasions, scratches, bruises on her body including an abrasion on her hymen that was part of what was found at the autopsy. Whether all these occurred at the same time as, shortly after, shortly before, I think is not clear from reading the autopsy.”

Wolf Blitzer: “Is there in your opinion, and you’re an expert in this kind of area, is there enough to conclude that JonBenet Ramsey was sexually abused?”

Wolf Blitzer: “When we’re talking about sexual abuse, are we talking about sexual abuse on the night of the murder or is there any evidence in this autopsy report that suggests there was previous sexual abuse?”

4. Short? Long? What sort of color?

John Gibson sat in for Geraldo Rivera on Rivera Live that same night. Another group of criminal attorneys, reporters and medical experts were gathered to pick apart the newest glance at that little paper cunt.

Among the details that Gibson directed attention to were the urine-stained long underwear and the mysterious red stain on the panties the child had on when she was found dead by her father.

John Gibson: “Does that red stain mean anything in particular?”

Craig Silverman (civil and criminal attorney): “Well, let’s look at it. Understand that this little girl had panties on. And then long underwear. Typical garb for a little girl going to bed. When they found her she has blood on her panties but not on the long underwear so this indicates to me that if there was a sexual assault somebody would have to redress this little girl. Which is bizarre behavior by a stranger who comes in and then commits this type of act and then would redress her, particularly if the pants were urine-stained.”

Cyril Wecht, MD (forensic pathologist/attorney who would later co-write a book on the JonBenet case and argue vociferously for a sexual motive in the murder including the embarrassing assertion that JonBenet died as a result of a bad game of sexual asphyxiation): “May I remind you that previously-released information tells us that there was blood on the labia, blood in the vaginal vault, an abrasion and contusion, so we definitely have a sexual assault. The red staining on the panties, I’ll bet you anything, is blood. And the question is how does it get there. It gets there from blood on the genitalia. And Mr. Silverman has correctly pointed out that there’s no way that this could be done. The panties were placed back on to the child after the sexual assault had occurred in order for the staining to have been there in the crotch of the panties.”

Cyril continues to get excited and, after the commercial break, talks clinically about inflammation and discoloration and the hymen and the rim and finally concedes that perhaps the rape of the child wasn’t a vicious attack “maybe not by a penis” but rather was a "controlled situation.”

5. Hairstyle?

Geraldo does the same show as Rolanda, Maureen O’Boyle (In Person), Maury Povich, Jenny Jones, even CNN Talk Back Live. That is: Trot the little girls who make up the small numbers of the Little Miss Beauty Pageants and tut tut the perverse sexuality by ending with the murder and rape of its most famous representative.

Susan Rook of CNN asks one of the little assembled beauty queens all done up like a little executive rather than a Miss America: “Natasha, do you want to be a tomboy?”

The 11-year-old little Miss Michigan replies through heavy lip gloss on big sexy lips:

“No I don’t. I want to be a little girl for as long as I can possibly be. Because I just want to live my childhood and pageantry isn’t my whole life. I just want to be a little girl.”

Of course, Litde Miss Michigan is already too old. The question should have been asked to one of the smaller younger made-up dollies that were dressed up as princesses.

6. What sort of face would she have?

Eight-year-old Brittany and nine-year-old Breanne are interviewed on Extra as former pageant-mates of JonBenet.

“Where’s JonBenet now?”

“She’s up in heaven.”

American Journal interviewed Breanne as well:

“It’s kind of scary when I’m, like, far far away from my mom. Or my dad. It’s kind of scary.”

Breanne’s mother, Dawn German, also contributed an article to Newsweek as part of its cover story, “The Strange World of JonBenet”:

“When she did her first swimsuit competition when she was six, it was very age-appropriate. The suits were very cute, and they held beach balls.”5

Caryl and Marilyn (The Mommies) interviewed 11-year-old Dallas, 10-year-old Rebecca, and nine-year-old Amy. Marilyn says Dallas looks like “Lolita” and that she had a “quick tense feeling” when they displayed such “sensual shots” of the tykes in full make-up.

7. A pretty face?

Geraldo picks through a copy of People magazine that features JonBenet on its cover. He holds up a pageant program. And then, as images of JonBenet’s swimsuited sex, lipstick and flirtatious bounces and grinds wash over him, he begins the real introduction:

“Found by her very own father, murdered brutally in the basement of her Boulder, Colorado home. Sexually assaulted before being strangled to death. But while the country watched the pictures of the little six-year-old on their televisions something else was also coming across. A powerful message. This was no ordinary girl who was murdered. This was a pageant Queen. Even at the age of six. Here she is in the first images the country had of the slain little girl, doing apparently what she knew best: performing. Then there was this outfit. JonBenet in her pink cowgirl dress. Working the runway in front of onlookers. This black and white ensemble was next. Complete with matching top hat. Once again little JonBenet performing for points. For fame. But nothing brought forth the underlying story that was starting to disturb America like this still photo of JonBenet. Her hair styled perfectly. The bright red lipstick. All on a six-year-old child. What was this? What was this little girl involved in? And why were her parents doing this to her?”

Geraldo then admonishes the crowd to save their derision for the parents and not to treat the little children badly as they walk out onto the stage. He introduces each by name and comments on how charming each is in succession.

Seven-year-old Taylor.

“That’s nice. I like your crown, too.”

Eight-year-old Brandy.

“Did your mom teach you that?”

Eight-year-old Tessa.

“Will you stand and show them your pretty dress? That’s very lovely.”

Eight-year-old Brooke.

“Can you show me that wave again?”

Eight-year-old Tabitha.

“Very nice.”

8. Would she be happy? Sad? What would her face be?

Jenny Jones reminded the audience who JonBenet was. “Strangled and sexually assaulted,” and then, “she was gorgeous.”

Of the mothers accompanying their pageant daughters, one had taken her daughter out of the circuit due to “too much pressure.” This one, Donna, said her daughter Deirdre had even competed against JonBenet. But now she was more realistic:

“My biggest fear is pornographic material. Any sleazy photographer can come in to these pageants, they will sell you videos of these pageants for $120. But they own the rights to those videos.”

9. What would her personality be?

JonBenet will be forever six years old—even though most of the photos of her are from when she was four and five. And she’ll always have on either lipstick or duct-tape wrapped around her little pouty unfittable mouth. Though there’s certainly enough photos of her in the public feast being just a regular girl without makeup like something a pedophile wouldn’t want to fuck more than any other available child.

It is important to imagine that perhaps JonBenet was in fact molested before she was murdered. And while fiction is always ugly, the question of whether or not JonBenet, in later life, might have reacted negatively to the photos of her made-up like an adult looking to get paid or fucked does inform the photos I keep so carefully.

Could the little girls showing their legs and fannies, barely visible through diaper slits, learn to see their innocent poses and struts and sliding holes as dirty. If I tell them I masturbate to them. If I show them. How I think of those red lips on such a little girl and imagine the brain-numbing pain behind such tight bones. A bright red smudge on the head of my fat cock.

A pedophile who sits quietly as children play at the beach. A pedophile who just watches. And occasionally looks up from his book.

A finger that won’t fit in. A cock that would cum only as he rubbed it along with her clumsily small palms and ignored directions. Her red suffocating face turning the lipstick you put all over her thin lips a brand new angry crumbling shade. The way her parents set her up for it wholesale. Delivered the pornography right into my lap for, what, $120.

10. And would she be clean, tomboyish or dirty?

JonBenet is only known to me because she was murdered. And that death is all that lets me see the rape—desperately clung to despite the gross stupidity of Cyril Wecht—and all the bruises and sores and inflammations spread out onto bodies mostly older than her own and not exactly the same.

JonBenet is flat. As in the way a child of her age would be. No tits. Unformed. No fatty cunt and thighs and bags under her eyes and stretch marks. Soft and hard where there’s nothing but skin on bone. Tired. Selfish. Bumps where saline will go soon enough. Tape here. Hide those. Exercise this more.

She is even flatter. As in paper. As in pathetic. As in pause and sound bite and used all by your lonesome self again and again.

And worse. I don’t know any real facts and details about the little reproductions due to the intense self-serving speculations of even her most minute vital statistics. I know burly voices slick with muddy inference and salty with effeminate concern.

11. When you put a girl in the chair—picture the girl—what do you think when you see a girl like that?

I’m not telling you how hypocritical these detailers are. The same way I didn’t give you the phone number to CHILDHELP USA to help you escape. But if that works for you and the various judges and prosecution and investigators who may be interested: Fine. You’re welcome. Thank you.

Because I’m not the one to do it. The distant moral stance and thick condomed safety that separates those who talk about it in public and those who worry about it in private all seem to hinge on the very ’90s hyper-concern for family and, specifically, the protection of children so that they can remain children for as long as they can. I don’t have children—literally and figuratively—and I’m not so misanthropic to believe that all that adults say is somehow smarmy. The same way I don’t believe that all good is done for the next generation.

But I’m clear on this. That this, from the National Enquirer of October 28, 1997, works best for those who masturbate into condoms thinking about Polly Klaas’ pain, her father’s mouth and her fully clothed ubiquitous image:

“Hoffmann-Pugh disclosed that JonBenet was terribly embarrassed to be seen naked by anyone including her daughter Ariana. ‘If I happened to walk in on her and she had her top off, she’d make a face and quickly fold her arms over her chest and turn away from me,’ the housekeeper recalled.

“It was very clear that she was alarmed and didn’t want anyone seeing her chest, even though she was completely undeveloped.”

12. What else do you think?

In the second photo of Emily, 10, in the photo book Fast Forward (Growing Up in the Shadow of Hollywood) by Lauren Greenfield, the little rich girl supermodel poses in the bathroom mirror of a rather ritzy hotel. She’s wearing the same hot pink swimsuit that she wore in the previous photo but this time it’s dry. Her ass is pushed out, her long brown hair is held back in a sexy flow, she looks as if she’s starting to bud breasts. But she’s probably just a little too chubby. Her pink lips don’t look as pink or thick as they do in the shot of her closing her eyes and dreaming in the pool. She says:

“In the bathroom, there are mirrors everywhere, just like I love. It’s kind of fun, because I can spend five hours looking at myself in the mirror and doing my hair and posing for myself. I want to be a model for magazines and videos and TV shows and stuff.”

13. What else do you think?

Geraldo gave an interview to Playboy for their October ’98 issue. He was asked about his having called his CNBC show “the program of record” as regards the JonBenet case and of his “continued fascination” with it.

“Here is a victim immortalized on home video, so we all have a chance to relate to that child in the cruelly artificial world created by her parents. An assistant DA in Denver suggested that the child was abused by the way her parents were exploiting her. So we already pity her and damn the parents even before the murder. That’s the setting for the murder story—an exploited child whose parents are the objects of our disdain.”

A footnote in Erotic Innocence: The Culture of Child Molesting by James R. Kincaid reflects on such common sense:

“[JonBenet] pranced once again for us on the screen and sang and did a mock striptease, and we blamed it all on vulgar parents, greed or The South’. Of course, no one has been able to invent a connection between the pageants and the grisly murder that gave rise to the publicity, but so what?”

There are laws that exist now that could define child pornography (and mere possession is a felony) as an action, as a document, rather than just a record of children somehow engaged in direct and clear sexual abuse. Personal context is at issue. According to Anne Higonnet in her book Pictures of Innocence: The History and Crisis of Ideal Childhood:

“If someone, anyone, could see sexuality of any sort in any image of a child, that image might be judged pornographic and its maker, distributor, or possessor could face $100,000 in fines and 15 years in jail.”

14. That’s what the target is: she has a skirt on but no pants?

A primary use for child pornography is to lower children’s inhibitions. To show them shots of others doing what you want them to do.

Put on this lipstick, dear. Just like mommy does. Just like little JonBenet.

The Examiner of April 22, 1997:
“Even before she was killed, bootlegged pictures of JonBenet and the innocent child’s beauty pageant videos were a huge hit with sick pedophiles who spend hours glued to x-rated kiddie porn on the Internet, say insiders.”

The Star of April 29, 1997 (included under their JONBENET DAD LINKED TO KIDDIE PORN expose):
“Girls who appear as young as 10 or 12 engaging in sexual acts—-including oral sex—with each other and with men.
Pre-teen girls, bound and gagged, being whipped and tortured.
A girl of no more than 12 or 13 bound from her head to her hips in a leather bridle, and hung by a chain. In the full-color photo, she is made to appear dead.”

15. What are you wanting to do with her and to her?

A six-year-old’s life-sized JonBenet doll was created and an eight-year-old actress was hired for use in quick careful scenes for the TV movie version of the book, Perfect Murder, Perfect Town.

The Globe of March 7, 2000 published 28 stills from the movie set, all focused on the murdered child’s sexy stand-ins. The eight-year-old in bright sliding lipstick, smiles and tight pageant legs and ass:

“Dyanne struts her stuff in a costume like JonBenet’s. Movie insiders said she was a natural.”


“Dyanne portrays JonBenet’s sweet innocence before tragedy struck.”

While the mannequin is seen used in the crime scenes, autopsy (sans hahilement save the comfortably fit pink and white kidling panties) and funeral casket. The centerfold doll—with her tiny pale grey bug nipples and tiny vaginal bloodstain in the exact correct places; with the garrot still around her baby throat and her eyes closed and her always made-up photo smile face now painted and molded to mimic the blood settling and bruising dead skin—is all advertisement, verisimilitude, cheap visual aid, proxy KP and, mainly, more and better detail.

“In this scene, it’s hard to believe the tyke s body is actually a mannequin.”


“Director Schiller had access to the real crime scene and autopsy information to recreate the events while still preserving secret portions of the investigation.”

Compare—as The Globe designed—the doll in her casket with the inset of the crowned face her mother kept.

Compare it to the December II, 1995 cover story of Time that included another dead six-year-old in her child’s clean white casket, also crowned (this time in white flowers), also in white lace and useless fluffy stuffed toys. And another journalist that crawled onto the suburban squirrels’ wheel that churns every single dead child into another precious keepsake doll, a fairy-princess, an innocent, a magic memory of sexy untouchable adult-handled fucked sadness:

“Elisa Izquierdo liked to dance, which is almost too perfect. Fairy tales, especially those featuring princesses, often include dancing, although perhaps not Elisa’s favorite merengue. Fairy-tale princesses are born humble. Elisa fit that bill: she was conceived in a homeless shelter in the Fort Greene section of Brooklyn and born addicted to crack. That Elisa nevertheless had a special, enchanted aura is something the whole city of New York now knows.”


“Fairy-tale princesses, however, are not bludgeoned to death by their mothers. They are not violated with a toothbrush and a hairbrush, and the neighbors do not hear them moaning and pleading at night.”

Little KP dolls with opened European faces remain faceless due to the lack of complete information. You can hope that, today, it’s a father’s cock in its face or a moneyed rapist with a motel account and a crack connection but until the news reports—see those of dead KP lolitot Thea Pumbroek especially—all you really have is your taste and the barest understandings of instinct over desire, aesthetics over humanity, erotica over pornography.

There are idiot mothers who’ll confuse the movie stills into actual crime scene records who are even more desperate than the tired perverts who frustrate themselves over the differences between what they had in the ’70s, what they get on their computers and what they own now as closest. There are close-ups of the doll. There are details of the crime in captions. The little tart got painted with promise and purity. The little doll got stripped and plastered with humanity and vulnerability and the warm longing for home. The dirty pictures twist into news and mystery and sustained grinding fucking ideas all muddied in safe supermarket ennui.



I know it’s mostly all lies. But then I don’t really give a fuck about who killed little JonBenet. Yet. Right now.


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