Blog Archives
Halloween-y lists, thanks to Cracked
Macabre, eerie, scary…and just plain odd. Enjoy.
- 5 Works of Art That Could Possibly Kill You
- The 5 Creepiest Urban Legends (That Happen to be True), 6 MORE Creepy Urban Legends (That Happen to be True), and 6 Creepy Urban Legends That Happen to be True (Part 3!)
- The 6 Most Terrifying Things People Actually Collect
- 7 Horrifying Moments From Classic Kids Movies
- The 7 Most Terrifying Disney Movie Deaths
- The 7 Most Horrifying Museums on Earth
- The 13 Most Unintentionally Disturbing Children’s Toys
- The 6 Creepiest Things Ever Slipped Into Children’s Cartoons
Caylee Anthony: Casey Anthony’s diary
Five days after Florida toddler Caylee Anthony was last seen alive, her mother, Casey Anthony, made a mysterious entry in her journal, according to documents released Wednesday by the Florida State’s Attorney office.
I have no regrets, just a bit worried …I completely trust my own judgment I know that I made the right decision. I just hope that the end justifies the means…This is the happiest that I have been in a very long time.
SHARETHIS.addEntry({ title: “”, url: “” });
Originally published at The Haunted Palace. Please leave any comments there.
Shannon Matthews update
Words cannot express. Good God.
The mother of Shannon Matthews has been jailed for kidnapping her own daughter in an attempt to claim reward money.
Karen Matthews, 33, and her co-accused Michael Donovan, 40, were earlier found guilty of kidnap, false imprisonment and perverting the course of justice.
Both were jailed for eight years by a judge at Leeds Crown Court who said the offences were “truly despicable”.
Shannon was held at Donovan’s flat in Batley Carr, West Yorkshire, for 24 days. (full article, BBC)
- case timeline
-
Missing nine-year-old Shannon Matthews had been given the sedative drug temazepam for up to 20 months before her disappearance, a court heard. (BBC)
- Inside the trial: BBC
SHARETHIS.addEntry({ title: “”, url: “” });
Originally published at The Haunted Palace. Please leave any comments there.
Resources: Truman Capote
In Cold Blood: A True Account of a Multiple Murder and Its Consequences * Truman Capote
- In Cold Blood: Salon article by Amy Standen:
Just over 40 years ago, a dandified New York reporter named Truman Capote traveled to Kansas to investigate the shotgun murder of a farm family. The result changed journalism forever.
- Findagrave: Truman Capote
- Truman Capote, and In Cold Blood at Answers.com
- the New Journalism movement
- photos of all of the principal parties involved with the case and with the book
- the murderers: Percy Smith and Dick Hickock
- Lowell Lee Andrews
SHARETHIS.addEntry({ title: “”, url: “” });
Originally published at The Haunted Palace. Please leave any comments there.
It once was an afghan.
SHARETHIS.addEntry({ title: “”, url: “” });
Originally published at The Haunted Palace. Please leave any comments there.
PC High School
[Our high school mascot is] no longer the Tigers because the name shows “shocking disrespect” for an endangered creature.
I know I’m shocked.
…They herd us into an assembly that is supposed to be a “democratic forum” to come up with a new school mascot. Who are we? We can’t be the Buccaneers because pirates supported violence and discrimination against women…Warriors insults Native Americans. I think Overbearing Eurocentric Patriarchs would be perfect, but I don’t suggest it.
— Speak, Laurie Halse Anderson
SHARETHIS.addEntry({ title: “”, url: “” });
Originally published at The Haunted Palace. Please leave any comments there.
An open letter to Sarah Palin wrt “special needs children”
I see that you are the mother of a baby that has Down’s Syndrome. I see that there are rumors that Trig Palin is your grandson, not your son, but that is not my issue with your making certain that everyone knows how brave you are to mother this child.
I speak from experience—not from motherhood myself, but from being the only sibling of a child that you so delicately refer to as “special needs”. My brother was not a tool with which to force open doors, to get desired people to like/admire/give things to my family; he was a beloved family member, a son and brother, who had the same rights as—and no more rights than—the other members of my family.
Dad didn’t tote him, or stories about his hospitalization, to work in order to earn a desired promotion or raise, or to avoid an undesirable task. Mom didn’t use him as a badge to protect herself from PTA duties, or to avoid any responsibilities to other family members or friends. He was special, far more special than your politically correct euphemism would ever express. But he was not a Golden Ticket; he was a respected human being.
I see from news archives that you’ve made certain that the press knew from the get-go that you had a baby with Down’s Syndrome, and aren’t you brave, aren’t you a bastion of the anti-abortion movement, aren’t you so special yourself? Please, I beg you, as Eric’s sister, as Mom and Dad’s daughter and only surviving child, and as a citizen of the same world as Trig, please stop waving him and his life in front of the media. I was more than dismayed to see you carrying him on the stage at the Republican Convention. That’s no place for any infant, no matter his health!
I did not fail to notice that you carefully placed his head on your shoulder, facing outward, then turned ever-so-casually toward the cameras, to make certain that every characteristic Down’s facial feature would be captured and broadcast around the world. He’s not a prop. He’s not an issue. He’s not a gold star on your chore chart. He’s an individual, completely separate from you and his other family members. He deserves to feel so. I pray that you realize this need, before too much damage is done.
Originally published at The Haunted Palace. Please leave any comments there.
Evil. I’m evil.
I just packed the contents of my dollhouse.
Yes, I’m 36 and I have a dollhouse. Stay with me, here, people.
As a precursor to the final packing job, I emptied all but the largest pieces of furniture into a small box. Contents of shelves, the icebox, toys…the whole works. I now know what it would feel like to be the Grinch, emptying the Whos’ homes.
I feel like I should repent. The ceramic eyes of my doll family are looking at me with reproach—vacant-eyed reproach, to be sure, but reproach nonetheless.
Originally published at The Haunted Palace. Please leave any comments there.







