Manitowoc. The day after the mayoral election, Mr. Pennywise sits in his old designated position. April sunshine engulfs the office, shinning on the carpet, oak desk, vases, and on the face of Mr. Pennywise. His features are distant, but small, like a child’s face that doesn’t age with time, or reason, or concern for that matter. Sand from the streets, a dying winter, wheels grinding against the pavement as they turn corners, it would be a wonderful day for a walk. The music of birds chirping the forgotten tune from last year, robins flutter in search of scraps, nest, home, and family. Vehicle horns shatter mindless thoughts of beaches, baseball, golf, gardening, and flowers. Walking, business suits, slacks, leather shoes, skirts, high heels, all picking up the tiny pieces of sand left from deiced streets and sidewalks, and carrying each one away like a kite in the spring breeze.
Sunshine everywhere. Sunshine in the eyes of millions, where it distorts the fear of economic collapse. Sunshine on the many awnings, car hoods, houses, but no keener sunshine than the sunshine in eyes of millions. Brighter days bring ease to minds and sunshine to shadows. It blinds the morning commuters as they head east and journeys to the west as many travel homeward. Mr. Pennywise is one of those travelers, and with his briefcase in hand, he starts towards the doorway of the only office he has known for fifteen years. With the sunshine at his back and his cardboard box of belongings under his arm, he walks into the hallway, and into the manmade light. It’s anchored to the ceiling, like man and God wanted nothing else but to remain in the light for all times.
Fluorescent beams extend downwards into the abyss; it brightens the stairs, each one as familiar to Mr. Pennywise, as the face in a mirror. Marble reflects the light up into his shaded gaze. Each speck of white marble contrasted with the dull shades of blue and gray, the black railing leading him away from his failure.
Mr. Pennywise walks into a room, again brightened by the manmade light. Mrs. Taskhandler looks up, and with a sudden shyness, shows a slight grin out of the corner of her mouth. Mr. Pennywise notices her desk and chair have been moved into a corner and asks, “My dear, why have you been moved here.”
She hesitates to answer, and Mr. Pennywise notices that half of her desk is under the fluorescent light coming down from the ceiling and the other half is lighted by a personal lamp, which she must have brought from home because he had never seen it before.
She answers out of the right side of her mouth as if the left side was paralyzed, “They thought that I needed a change of scenery.”
Mr. Pennywise thinks it’s strange, and as he shrugs his shoulders he says, “Well Sarah, it has been a pleasure working with you and I hope you understand that all I did and said to you has been in the best interest of this city.”
Sarah, being Mr. Pennywise’s secretary for the last four years says, “Yes sir.” And turns to reach for her box of tissue, but it’s no longer off to the right, next to the phone where she used to keep it. She gasps covering her mouth and finds it under her lamp, which is off, the box nestled into the corner next to the wall.
Just as she brings her hand up to her face, she sees behind Mr. Pennywise, a hand reaching out for his shoulder. The ring on the man’s right ring-finger is bright gold and has a diamond as big as a pebble. But the hand itself looks frail and thin, like a bone covered in spandex. Each finger long and skeletal rests on Mr. Pennywise’s shoulder. He turns with a sudden start and his eyes meet the eyes of a ghost. The ghost is Fillmore Heap. Mr. Heap stands with a placid smile upon his face. His eyes sink deep into his head and Mr. Pennywise notices the coldness that comes over his body as Mr. Heap’s left hand reaches down toward Mr. Pennywise’s.
Mr. Heap’s mouth opens to show his porcelain bright teeth, and he says in a smooth tone, “Good, I see you have everything. I wanted to catch you before you left and ask you if you wouldn’t mind if I treated you to a cup of coffee.”
Mr. Pennywise thought it quite odd and hesitated to answer and in doing so Mr. Heap said, “Just as a common courtesy where I come from.”
His words came out blunt and rehearsed, but needless to say they came out forcibly. As if the answer ‘no’ would never amount to anything but disgust and as Mr. Pennywise swallowed a mouthful of air, his chest grew in size and he replied, “It would be my pleasure.”
A lurid smile grew across the face of Mr. Heap and his eyes brightly showed he was pleased with Mr. Pennywise’s reply. Both men then turned to Mrs. Taskhandler’s desk, nodded and made way for the door.
Outside the sun is bright, both men blinking to adjust, Mr. Pennywise more so than Mr. Heap. “I have to put this in my vehicle.” Mr. Pennywise said as he headed for the end of the parking lot, at first Mr. Heap remained at the bottom of the stairs, but then decidedly he followed. His long thin legs moving at pace twice as fast as Mr. Pennywise, he caught up to him halfway to Mr. Pennywise’s vehicle.
“Can I carry something for you?” said Mr. Heap in firm voice.
“No, that is not necessary, I can handle it.” Mr. Pennywise replied annoyed that this white ghost followed him, like a father follows a distrustful son.
When both men reached the vehicle, Mr. Pennywise put all of his belongings on the trunk and reached into his pocket for his keys.
Mr. Heap stood close by, observing every movement, and thought it strange that a man worked in the same office for ten years and only had a small cardboard box of belongings, but decided not to make mention of it.
Mr. Pennywise opened the rear passenger side door and placed the box and his briefcase inside, then after locking the door from the inside, closed the door and turned in the direction of Mr. Heap.
Mr. Heap stood tall, at least much taller than Mr. Pennywise’s small childish frame. As both men turned back to the City Hall building, Mr. Heap’s conversation turned from pleasant recognition of the day to political matters, asking, “So did you expect this?”
Mr. Pennywise not quite understanding what Mr. Heap was trying to pry out of him, but he thought his question rude no matter if he was discussing the recent loss Mr. Pennywise was privy to, or the demeanor that Mr. Heap was attempting to instill in the already ex-mayor. Still even the idea of an ex-mayor and newly elected mayor having coffee did not sit well with Mr. Pennywise. But to the aforementioned question, Mr. Pennywise said in a rather short but contradictory way, “Expectations, sometimes lead to disappointments.”
With that being stated, Mr. Heap, proud of his newly elected position, decided he will not and never would be bullied by a corrupt politician and while grabbing his acquaintance by the arm said, “Well, change sometimes is best for all, and if what you feel is a disappointment then God help you.”
It would be natural to anyone that has Mr. Heap’s personality, to pick the coffee shop in which the front glass window still advertizes his campaign. And upon seeing this Mr. Heap smiles and grunts a slight laugh. His pearl white teeth noticed in the window’s reflection by Mr. Pennywise as Mr. Pennywise slowly lowers his head in dismay.
As each man took his turn walking into the coffee shop nestled between an old thrift shop and a bookstore off to the left. Mr. Pennywise entered and noticed an air of uneasiness, quite unpleasant that it filled his childish nostrils with the fragrance of lavish cologne from all directions. Each breath inhaled, gagged Mr. Pennywise and with each exhale he wanted nothing more than to leave.
Mr. Heap helped himself to a seat in the center of the room, picked up a menu and asked Mr. Pennywise to take a seat in a manner of authority. He took a seat across from Mr. Heap, uneasy in doing so. Mr. Pennywise timidly thought of himself as an outsider by the tone displayed by Mr. Heap’s command.
“This is new money,” said Mr. Heap with eyes searching the room and wanting Mr. Pennywise to do the same. “We are entering a new time, and I prospected some of my closest acquaintances to open businesses here instead of other places. The man over there,” said Mr. Heap pointing in the direction of a short chubby fellow with curly red hair and thick fulsome eyebrows “is Mr. Jagger, a prominent businessman from Detroit. He specializes in woodcrafts and intends on opening a business, hopefully employing about seventy-five people.”
In the presence of Mr. Heap, Mr. Pennywise could not get comfortable in the chair nor did he find comfort in the words of Mr. Heap. He felt like a peasant, a no one. Only one day has passed since Mr. Pennywise lost his role in society, and now he feels as though he had been nothing, his existence as mayor was over, meaningless, and everyone was looking to the future whether it seemed bright or corrupt. This is how Mr. Heap won the election.
Mr. Pennywise was a man who felt money should never define who he was, or that his position should never involve him spending large amounts money, he was saver. And Mr. Heap, although sinewy and skeletal, was a doer, a person who could change the unchangeable, a person who has mystical powers and persuasion.
Tantalizing curiosity caught Mr. Pennywise by surprise, he wanted change, but somehow or someway, something was wrong with Mr. Heap. He seemed to Mr. Pennywise, ambitious, but the ambition represented danger not stability. The face can tell a millions lies and if no one can find a reason to suspect fallacy, men like Mr. Heap could never be challenged. But it troubled Mr. Pennywise that he could not figure out what was wrong with this dangerous man, who everyone seemed to connect to like a new millionaire; it was a troubling notion, which confused Mr. Pennywise greatly.
As he pondered the invitation, his rationalization could not come to a clear conclusion. He still wanted nothing more than to leave and rescue himself from this deceitful man. The waitress came and orders were taken away with the command that Mr. Heap also wanted a slice of apple pie with his coffee and Mr. Pennywise wanting just coffee, excused himself to the restroom.
While away, Mr. Heap struck up conversation with Mr. Jagger from across the coffee shop. He said, “So Mr. Jagger how is the progress of your business coming along?”
Mr. Jagger, waddling over to the table with distinct slickness almost as if he was gliding, and sitting to the right of Mr. Heap, replied in a pleasing manner, “Very well sir. Who is joining you for coffee today?”
Mr. Heap said, “Mr. Pennywise the former mayor.” Then tapping his fingers on the table, Mr. Heap asked, “Do you know of him? He is a very young and childish man, feeble too, but I fear I may have overstepped my boundaries, by inviting him to dine with me.”
“Why so,” replied Mr. Jagger. “He doesn’t seem harmful. He seems a very young and inviting man.”
“Harmful? I never said I feared him, or that he was any harm to me.”
Both men laughed a hearty laugh that echoed throughout the coffee shop as Mr. Pennywise slowly and somberly came back to the table, the conversation at hand ended. Mr. Pennywise took his seat, again across from Mr. Heap, and Mr. Heap introduced Mr. Jagger. After both Mr. Jagger and Mr. Pennywise shook hands, Mr. Jagger asked, “Mr. Heap, did you look at the papers I delivered to your office this afternoon?”
At which Mr. Heap looked up from his hands which were folded neatly together, with a questioning look. “No I have not moved into the office yet.”
In the outskirts of the conversation, Mr. Pennywise remembered his secretary dropping off some of the day’s mail on his desk, which Mr. Pennywise, unknowing placed into his cardboard box on his way out.
“Mr. Heap, I believe you will be very happy with my findings,” said Mr. Jagger rising from the table.
Mr. Pennywise, then felt a rising tension in the face of Mr. Heap. His eyes grew wide, and his knuckles turned white, the bones showed distinctness. The spandex-skin, elastic-like looked as if his knuckles were ready to split.
The fluorescent lights overhead flickered as Mr. Jagger moved away from the table with an uneasy swagger. He looked frightened, his face going red and his glossy eyes blinked repeatedly as he backed away, but he tried not to show his fear.
Mr. Heap said. “Good day,” in a very odd manner, like each word choked to come out, and Mr. Heap brought his attention back to Mr. Pennywise.
The lights in the coffee shop stopped flickering and the waitress brought the coffee and Mr. Heap’s pie. The pie, covered in whip cream and caramel sauce, caused Mr. Heap to recall the waitress and explain that he did not want all the fixings, ‘just pie’ is what he said.
After a new piece was brought, the waitress left with a mood of disgust, like she had failed, or sinned in the presence of a god-like creature. Mr. Heap shook his head and said, “Today’s children, too much sugar I think. Always trying to fix things up to make them better.”
And Mr. Pennywise answered jokingly, “But that’s your job now, right?”
“Rightly so! Said Mr. Heap, “Now, just make sure I get my papers back, okay Mr. Pennywise?”
Mr. Pennywise looked up from his coffee in a surprised manner with his hands grasped around the coffee cup, “You know it was only by mistake that I grabbed them on my way out.”
“They are nothing of importance, but I do need them back before you leave.”
Mr. Heap did not show his demeanor in his voice, but it was as clear as day in his eyes. Each one piercing, like persuasive swords aiming at the neck of Mr. Pennywise, ready to slice at it any second.
He could not hold on to the cup, much less Mr. Heap’s piercing gaze. Mr. Pennywise looked away, and slowly brought his cup up to his mouth, he feared to look back, knowing that Mr. Heap’s eyes were like the eyes of predator, Mr. Pennywise had the feeling of getting up and going to the restroom again, but decidedly stayed.
The lights overhead flickered again and Mr. Heap cleared his throat as if he was going to speak, but chose not to say anything. He just sat there staring at Mr. Pennywise.
Mr. Pennywise’s face, flushed and pimpled, would not look in the direction of Mr. Heap and it angered Mr. Heap more with every passing second. Mr. Heap got up from his chair and moved around the table to the left and sitting in the chair almost in Mr. Pennywise’s view.
His face moved in closer to Mr. Pennywise and his words came out demanding, “Look at me, Mr. Pennywise…….Look at me.”
Mr. Pennywise felt his eyes water, each breath that came out Mr. Heap’s mouth was like a chilled fifty-mile an hour wind blowing directly into Mr. Pennywise’s face. Finally he looked into the man’s fiery red eyes. A sense of fear was growing in his stomach and his jaw trembled. Mr. Pennywise had nothing to say, the intimidation took hold of every part of his body. His legs went numb, he could not even feel his backside resting against the chair, and he noticed his left hand tingling slightly. He tried making a fist, but failed and as the tingling sensation moved up his arm and through his shoulder, both hands reached for his heart. Mr. Pennywise fell to the ground and drifted away.
Mr. Jagger’s chubby frame stumbled over a chair as he made his way towards Mr. Pennywise. He screeched to halt when his eyes connected with Mr. Heap’s. Mr. Jagger’s voice echoed throughout the coffee shop, “Call for help.”
Reaching inside his jacket, Mr. Heap pulled out his pipe and a bag of smoking tobacco. He placed the pinches of tobacco in the pipe with his thin gaunt fingers and lit it after he placed the pipe in his mouth. The whole time his faced showing a satisfied look.
Mr. Jagger went down on all fours limb and as he rolled Mr. Pennywise over, he noticed the man still breathing.
Mr. Heap said, “Is he alive” as he let out a breath of smoke, forcing it up into the room like mushroom cloud.
“Yes!” replied Mr. Jagger.
As others came to the aid of Mr. Pennywise, Mr. Heap threw a few dollars down on the table and left through the door which he had entered. He moved swiftly along the window, never looking in. His faced fixed with a smile, as the sunlight shinned brightly down on him; he walked like a man walking with purpose and grave intentions. Mr. Heap barely noticing the sirens in the distance nodded his head at some patrons walking out of the bookstore next to the coffee shop. But, the sun was much too bright for anyone of them to notice. And Mr. Heap thought to himself, I own this town.
NOTE: This is my attempt to write like Charles Dickens. I hope you enjoy.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Saturday, October 24, 2009
A Killer Personality
An individual’s personality can be shaped and influenced by many situations, experiences, and individuals. First, I believe we have to define personality in order to understand the significance of how a personality controls an individual. According to Burger (2008), “personality can be defined as consistent behavior patterns and intrapersonal processes originating within the individual (p.4). To put this definition in simpler terms would be to say an individual’s personality is based on constant and reliable actions caused by the emotions and impulses of an individual. However, before I go too far into the psychological world of individuals such as, Sigmund Freud, Alfred Adler, Carl Rogers, and Abraham Maslow, I feel it would be better to give the basis of the individual who I intend to contrast and compare using the personality theories of the aforementioned theorists.
The individual’s personality, whom I chose to examine closely, is no other than John Wayne Gacy. Gacy is a serial killer, who not only manipulates his victims, but enjoys torturing them repeatedly. In this paper, I will apply and contrast the ideas of the psychoanalytic approach, humanistic approach and the psychoanalytic approach: neo-Freudian theory, to the personality of John Wayne Gacy. I will look at his personality according to psychiatrist Helen Morrison, who had a chance to interview and observe Gacy before his trial.
The best way to structure this research paper on Gacy’s personality is to summarize his life and point out some of the influences that have molded his personality. Then, I will apply the theories mentioned earlier. In doing this, I hope to better understand his emotions, motivation, and what made him one of the most interesting serial killers of all time.
Gacy grew up in somewhat of a normal household; he had a mother, a father and a sister. However, even though to others everything seemed somewhat normal, according to Morrison (2004), “Gacy was described as a sickly boy who had various spells of fainting throughout his early years” (p.74). This fainting may have been a result of the constant abuse of Gacy’s father. It is stated that after an initial argument with his father, Gacy fainted and was hospitalized and after consecutive weeks in the hospital with no diagnosis, he was released, but from the moment he returned home, Gacy began having more and more fainting bouts (Morrison, 2004). His father consequently resented having a child with such weakness and he became more abusive. After five long years of constant abuse by his father, Gacy left at age twenty.
Gacy’s mother was somewhat outlandish. Morrison (2004) states, that during Gacy’s birth, his mother confided that during pregnancy, Gacy “defecated in the womb and that caused [Gacy’s] respiratory problems” (p.83). However, Gacy’s mother goes on to tell Morrison (2004) in an interview, that in order to help him with the respiratory problems, she consistently gave him “enemas and suppositories” (p.83). When asked, who told her to administer such an odd treatment for difficult breathing, she replied, that it was she herself who chose the means by which to help her child.
The older Gacy seemed in the eyes of the public, normal and even helpful to anyone who needed assistance. Gacy his spent days working as contractor, but he also enjoyed repairing things for neighbors free of charge. Gacy was beneficial to his community; he spent many days with ill children at hospitals, attempting to cheer them up dressed like a clown (Morrison, 2004). It is easy to speculate that the community in which Gacy lived looked up to him, like he was saint.
However, there is a dark side to Gacy. It started not long after leaving home at the age twenty. He found employment at a mortuary in Las Vegas. It was there, that he admitted to Morrison during the interview, he first found the exuberance of life. It was in a coffin at the mortuary that Gacy laid beside a corpse, literally pulling the lifeless body over his and excitedly “arousing himself” (Morrison, 2004).
It was not until six years later that Gacy started to stalk and entice boys to have sexual relations with him. Morrison spent some time during her research to take a look at the high school photographs of Gacy’s victims; she states that they were all approximately close, having the same description, “thinnish light-haired or brown-haired young men” (p.79). At first Gacy was just interested in sex, but it was not long before his sexual relations turned into violent scenes of manipulation and torture. Very soon he resorted to drugging his victim until unconscious, tying them up and performing sexual acts.
In one particular case, highlighted by Morrison (2004), Gacy lured a young man into his truck, drugging him, driving to his house, raping him and choking him with a cord wrapped tightly around his neck. Then much like the situation at the mortuary, Gacy slept with dead body until it was time to leave for work (p.80). There is no doubt that Gacy felt some sort of superiority over his victim; in another case, according to Morrison (2004), one of Gacy’s victims was repeatedly drowned and revived more than four times. It got to the point that the boy asked Gacy to kill him; however, Morrison (2004) believes that he allowed the boy to go free, because the boy at no time during the constant drowning or repeated rapes ever resisted Gacy (p. 88).
Morrison spent a good part of her interview with Gacy, noting peculiarities in Gacy’s behavior. She noted that his cell was overly spotless and “everything had a place” (Morrison, 2004). From the time she entered the room, she felt Gacy’s undulating influence. Gacy directed her where to sit, this seemed to give him a certain control over the room. Morrison always made it a point to describe his manner as, “Gacy felt,” while sitting across from Morrison, “he was better than anything or anyone around him” (p.71). He was snobbish, yet flattering; she could sense the anger deep down inside of him, suggesting, that Gacy was “above explaining himself” and how manipulative he was, his arrogance showed when he said, “I didn’t do any those things they say I did,” following it up with a devilish grin (Morrison, 2004). Gacy talked for hours about his father and the abuse, and each time he let his father down (Morrison, 2004). However, Gacy had no remorse for the victims which he so brutally murdered.
As you can see, I wanted to point out not only Gacy’s relationships with his mother and father, but look closely at the power and superiority he felt over his victims. Even during the interview with Gacy, Helen Morrison could sense his will to control the situation in the room. I wonder what could drive such a community contributor to the point that he kills innocent human beings. The next part of this paper will include the theories of Sigmund Freud, Alfred Adler, Carl Rogers, and Abraham Maslow, in order to find answers to Gacy’s lifestyle and motivation. We will look back over Gacy’s life, his murders, and his behavior from the point which Helen Morrison entered the serial killer’s confines.
The first significant point to look at is Gacy’s relationship with his father. Although during much of Gacy’s childhood, he was abused obsessively by his father, I think one thing to look at is the idea of striving for superiority. This could have been one of the many reasons that Gacy left home and started out on his own. His father was a very strict individual and definitely the superior being in the household. However, according to Burger (2008), Alfred Adler suggested that there could be one “motivating force” which caused personality, and that is “striving for superiority” (p.101). This motivational drive pushes an individual emotionally and the psychologist tends to look closely at the “role of parental influence on personality development, and the effects of birth order” (Burger, 2008).
For example, in the case of Gacy, he was probably first born, because of the influence and expectations of his father. Gacy said he constantly felt like he let his father down in one way or another. This feeling had a profound influence on Gacy and probably had an even more profound impact on his victims. His father controlled situations through his superiority over Gacy, and that could be the reason Gacy tortured his victims. He wanted and needed to show his superiority and control. However, with the victim he let go, there was a problem because the victim did not resist, therefore Gacy was at loss of how to handle the situation.
The case with his mother is a little different, and in order to analyze this we have to turn to Sigmund Freud and his psychoanalytic theory. The best way to understand his relationship with his mother is to look closely and speculate at what psychosexual stages of development, Gacy was traumatized. According to Burger (2008), Freud believed that individuals who were traumatized during the anal stage, may be “excessively orderly, stubborn, and generous (p.53).
Gacy definitely had order to his life, for example as Morrison points out; he had an excessively clean cell, very orderly and meticulous. This could be a clear indication that Gacy had some sort of trauma during this stage of development. Chances are that it was either, the strictness and assertiveness of his father, or as explained earlier, his mother’s use of enemas and suppositories. It is one of these two ideas which caused Gacy to become so clean, but cleanliness is not the only trait, the other is the idea that Gacy was a part of the community; he not only helped, but gave up his time and money helping the less fortunate, whether the less fortunate would be a child or his neighbors.
The other psychosexual stage of development that gets called into question is the phallic stage. This suggests that, not only was Gacy traumatized during this stage, he lost touch with the opposite sex. He consistently battled with his father, and as far as his mother was concerned she firmly believe that she and Gacy had a very loving relationship (Morrison, 83). Burger (2008) suggests that Freud says this is the stage in which individuals become fixated with the opposite sex, and that during this stage the individual resents the same sex parent for fear that the parent will find out the impure thoughts of the individual (p.53). This could have caused much of the conflict between Gacy and his father; however, leaving his family, and lacking a male role model to develop Gacy’s personality could have resulted in his fixation on males as sexual partners.
Gacy’s killings are a way to compensate for the lack of his father’s unconditional positive regard. According to Carl Rogers, unconditional positive regard is when a parent or parents, show that they accept and love their children regardless of what they have done (Burger, 2008). Instead, Gacy’s father showed Gacy that his love was conditional, because he saw his son as weak and insignificant. Gacy saw that his father’s love was conditional and that in order to earn his father’s love, he had to appear strong. I can only speculate that part of the abuse done by his father was because of Gacy’s rebellious attitude to attempt to fool his father into thinking that he was stronger than he really was.
There are so many needs in a person’s life; it’s a wonder that anyone can reach the top of Abraham Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. Maslow believed that there were five different needs in order for a person to become self-actualized or full-functioning, according to Carl Rogers (Burger, 2008). The five needs are “physiological needs, safety needs, belongingness and love needs, esteem needs, and the needs for self-actualization” (Burger, 2008). When looking closely at Gacy, it is interesting in to note what we can find according to Maslow’s needs. The first need is the need for air to breathe, food to eat, water to drink, and sleep. Most of these needs are easily met, and Gacy has definitely filled this need. The second need is safety, the need for shelter, protection, stability, and security. Gacy seems safe; he has a house and lives in a stable loving community, which brings us to the next need: family, belongingness, and organizations. Gacy has a wife, although I fail to mention her earlier because she is quite insignificant, and does not give any insight to his personality. He does spend time with neighbors, ill children, and has a very successful business. Gacy is confident and arrogant at the same time; however, something in this stage is lacking. I believe because of the abuse at such an early age, it has caused Gacy to lack some of the personality development which may have caused him to become a cold blooded killer.
According to Carl Rogers, “the problem begins when we experience anxiety and respond to various psychological defenses” (Burger, 2008). This brings us back to Sigmund Freud and his idea of defense mechanisms. When an individual experiences a traumatic situation, he or she sometimes may use defense mechanisms in order to avoid, distort, repress, or deny memories. Gacy is a prime example when it comes to defense mechanisms. When Gacy stated that he felt as though he had let his father down, in order to better cope with the past abuse and have some sort of emotion towards his father, it was better for him to repress the memories as if the abuse had never happened.
However, one of the most noticeable defense mechanisms used by Gacy is the idea of projection. It could be speculated that Gacy projected his disgust and hatred of his father onto his victims, projecting his pain and sorrow. This brings back the issue of superiority. Gacy needed to not only understand what drove his father to extreme measures of abuse, but this action also forced Gacy to this step up one more level and that is the way he killed his victims using as much torture and manipulation as possible.
In conclusion, Gacy did kill over thirty people. He did this because of the situations he dealt with as child. Over the course of his killing spree, Gacy learned how to manipulate his victims; he believed control and power could instill fear and he was right. Helen Morrison was very brave in her research and interview of John Wayne Gacy. He not only tried to manipulate her during the interview, but the real impact came later when he, according to Morrison, Gacy sent her “crazed Christmas cards” (Morrison, 2004).
I personally think that John Wayne Gacy was unlike any other serial killer in the world. He was able to make a person do exactly what he wanted him to do, and in doing that it made him feel strong, possibly even stronger than his father. Gacy will live on in stories, killer profiles, and as one of the most feared serial killers in time.
Work Cited
Burger. (2008). Personality. Belmont, CA: Thomson Wadsworth.
Morrison. (2004). My life among the serial killers. New York: HarperCollins Publishers.
The individual’s personality, whom I chose to examine closely, is no other than John Wayne Gacy. Gacy is a serial killer, who not only manipulates his victims, but enjoys torturing them repeatedly. In this paper, I will apply and contrast the ideas of the psychoanalytic approach, humanistic approach and the psychoanalytic approach: neo-Freudian theory, to the personality of John Wayne Gacy. I will look at his personality according to psychiatrist Helen Morrison, who had a chance to interview and observe Gacy before his trial.
The best way to structure this research paper on Gacy’s personality is to summarize his life and point out some of the influences that have molded his personality. Then, I will apply the theories mentioned earlier. In doing this, I hope to better understand his emotions, motivation, and what made him one of the most interesting serial killers of all time.
Gacy grew up in somewhat of a normal household; he had a mother, a father and a sister. However, even though to others everything seemed somewhat normal, according to Morrison (2004), “Gacy was described as a sickly boy who had various spells of fainting throughout his early years” (p.74). This fainting may have been a result of the constant abuse of Gacy’s father. It is stated that after an initial argument with his father, Gacy fainted and was hospitalized and after consecutive weeks in the hospital with no diagnosis, he was released, but from the moment he returned home, Gacy began having more and more fainting bouts (Morrison, 2004). His father consequently resented having a child with such weakness and he became more abusive. After five long years of constant abuse by his father, Gacy left at age twenty.
Gacy’s mother was somewhat outlandish. Morrison (2004) states, that during Gacy’s birth, his mother confided that during pregnancy, Gacy “defecated in the womb and that caused [Gacy’s] respiratory problems” (p.83). However, Gacy’s mother goes on to tell Morrison (2004) in an interview, that in order to help him with the respiratory problems, she consistently gave him “enemas and suppositories” (p.83). When asked, who told her to administer such an odd treatment for difficult breathing, she replied, that it was she herself who chose the means by which to help her child.
The older Gacy seemed in the eyes of the public, normal and even helpful to anyone who needed assistance. Gacy his spent days working as contractor, but he also enjoyed repairing things for neighbors free of charge. Gacy was beneficial to his community; he spent many days with ill children at hospitals, attempting to cheer them up dressed like a clown (Morrison, 2004). It is easy to speculate that the community in which Gacy lived looked up to him, like he was saint.
However, there is a dark side to Gacy. It started not long after leaving home at the age twenty. He found employment at a mortuary in Las Vegas. It was there, that he admitted to Morrison during the interview, he first found the exuberance of life. It was in a coffin at the mortuary that Gacy laid beside a corpse, literally pulling the lifeless body over his and excitedly “arousing himself” (Morrison, 2004).
It was not until six years later that Gacy started to stalk and entice boys to have sexual relations with him. Morrison spent some time during her research to take a look at the high school photographs of Gacy’s victims; she states that they were all approximately close, having the same description, “thinnish light-haired or brown-haired young men” (p.79). At first Gacy was just interested in sex, but it was not long before his sexual relations turned into violent scenes of manipulation and torture. Very soon he resorted to drugging his victim until unconscious, tying them up and performing sexual acts.
In one particular case, highlighted by Morrison (2004), Gacy lured a young man into his truck, drugging him, driving to his house, raping him and choking him with a cord wrapped tightly around his neck. Then much like the situation at the mortuary, Gacy slept with dead body until it was time to leave for work (p.80). There is no doubt that Gacy felt some sort of superiority over his victim; in another case, according to Morrison (2004), one of Gacy’s victims was repeatedly drowned and revived more than four times. It got to the point that the boy asked Gacy to kill him; however, Morrison (2004) believes that he allowed the boy to go free, because the boy at no time during the constant drowning or repeated rapes ever resisted Gacy (p. 88).
Morrison spent a good part of her interview with Gacy, noting peculiarities in Gacy’s behavior. She noted that his cell was overly spotless and “everything had a place” (Morrison, 2004). From the time she entered the room, she felt Gacy’s undulating influence. Gacy directed her where to sit, this seemed to give him a certain control over the room. Morrison always made it a point to describe his manner as, “Gacy felt,” while sitting across from Morrison, “he was better than anything or anyone around him” (p.71). He was snobbish, yet flattering; she could sense the anger deep down inside of him, suggesting, that Gacy was “above explaining himself” and how manipulative he was, his arrogance showed when he said, “I didn’t do any those things they say I did,” following it up with a devilish grin (Morrison, 2004). Gacy talked for hours about his father and the abuse, and each time he let his father down (Morrison, 2004). However, Gacy had no remorse for the victims which he so brutally murdered.
As you can see, I wanted to point out not only Gacy’s relationships with his mother and father, but look closely at the power and superiority he felt over his victims. Even during the interview with Gacy, Helen Morrison could sense his will to control the situation in the room. I wonder what could drive such a community contributor to the point that he kills innocent human beings. The next part of this paper will include the theories of Sigmund Freud, Alfred Adler, Carl Rogers, and Abraham Maslow, in order to find answers to Gacy’s lifestyle and motivation. We will look back over Gacy’s life, his murders, and his behavior from the point which Helen Morrison entered the serial killer’s confines.
The first significant point to look at is Gacy’s relationship with his father. Although during much of Gacy’s childhood, he was abused obsessively by his father, I think one thing to look at is the idea of striving for superiority. This could have been one of the many reasons that Gacy left home and started out on his own. His father was a very strict individual and definitely the superior being in the household. However, according to Burger (2008), Alfred Adler suggested that there could be one “motivating force” which caused personality, and that is “striving for superiority” (p.101). This motivational drive pushes an individual emotionally and the psychologist tends to look closely at the “role of parental influence on personality development, and the effects of birth order” (Burger, 2008).
For example, in the case of Gacy, he was probably first born, because of the influence and expectations of his father. Gacy said he constantly felt like he let his father down in one way or another. This feeling had a profound influence on Gacy and probably had an even more profound impact on his victims. His father controlled situations through his superiority over Gacy, and that could be the reason Gacy tortured his victims. He wanted and needed to show his superiority and control. However, with the victim he let go, there was a problem because the victim did not resist, therefore Gacy was at loss of how to handle the situation.
The case with his mother is a little different, and in order to analyze this we have to turn to Sigmund Freud and his psychoanalytic theory. The best way to understand his relationship with his mother is to look closely and speculate at what psychosexual stages of development, Gacy was traumatized. According to Burger (2008), Freud believed that individuals who were traumatized during the anal stage, may be “excessively orderly, stubborn, and generous (p.53).
Gacy definitely had order to his life, for example as Morrison points out; he had an excessively clean cell, very orderly and meticulous. This could be a clear indication that Gacy had some sort of trauma during this stage of development. Chances are that it was either, the strictness and assertiveness of his father, or as explained earlier, his mother’s use of enemas and suppositories. It is one of these two ideas which caused Gacy to become so clean, but cleanliness is not the only trait, the other is the idea that Gacy was a part of the community; he not only helped, but gave up his time and money helping the less fortunate, whether the less fortunate would be a child or his neighbors.
The other psychosexual stage of development that gets called into question is the phallic stage. This suggests that, not only was Gacy traumatized during this stage, he lost touch with the opposite sex. He consistently battled with his father, and as far as his mother was concerned she firmly believe that she and Gacy had a very loving relationship (Morrison, 83). Burger (2008) suggests that Freud says this is the stage in which individuals become fixated with the opposite sex, and that during this stage the individual resents the same sex parent for fear that the parent will find out the impure thoughts of the individual (p.53). This could have caused much of the conflict between Gacy and his father; however, leaving his family, and lacking a male role model to develop Gacy’s personality could have resulted in his fixation on males as sexual partners.
Gacy’s killings are a way to compensate for the lack of his father’s unconditional positive regard. According to Carl Rogers, unconditional positive regard is when a parent or parents, show that they accept and love their children regardless of what they have done (Burger, 2008). Instead, Gacy’s father showed Gacy that his love was conditional, because he saw his son as weak and insignificant. Gacy saw that his father’s love was conditional and that in order to earn his father’s love, he had to appear strong. I can only speculate that part of the abuse done by his father was because of Gacy’s rebellious attitude to attempt to fool his father into thinking that he was stronger than he really was.
There are so many needs in a person’s life; it’s a wonder that anyone can reach the top of Abraham Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. Maslow believed that there were five different needs in order for a person to become self-actualized or full-functioning, according to Carl Rogers (Burger, 2008). The five needs are “physiological needs, safety needs, belongingness and love needs, esteem needs, and the needs for self-actualization” (Burger, 2008). When looking closely at Gacy, it is interesting in to note what we can find according to Maslow’s needs. The first need is the need for air to breathe, food to eat, water to drink, and sleep. Most of these needs are easily met, and Gacy has definitely filled this need. The second need is safety, the need for shelter, protection, stability, and security. Gacy seems safe; he has a house and lives in a stable loving community, which brings us to the next need: family, belongingness, and organizations. Gacy has a wife, although I fail to mention her earlier because she is quite insignificant, and does not give any insight to his personality. He does spend time with neighbors, ill children, and has a very successful business. Gacy is confident and arrogant at the same time; however, something in this stage is lacking. I believe because of the abuse at such an early age, it has caused Gacy to lack some of the personality development which may have caused him to become a cold blooded killer.
According to Carl Rogers, “the problem begins when we experience anxiety and respond to various psychological defenses” (Burger, 2008). This brings us back to Sigmund Freud and his idea of defense mechanisms. When an individual experiences a traumatic situation, he or she sometimes may use defense mechanisms in order to avoid, distort, repress, or deny memories. Gacy is a prime example when it comes to defense mechanisms. When Gacy stated that he felt as though he had let his father down, in order to better cope with the past abuse and have some sort of emotion towards his father, it was better for him to repress the memories as if the abuse had never happened.
However, one of the most noticeable defense mechanisms used by Gacy is the idea of projection. It could be speculated that Gacy projected his disgust and hatred of his father onto his victims, projecting his pain and sorrow. This brings back the issue of superiority. Gacy needed to not only understand what drove his father to extreme measures of abuse, but this action also forced Gacy to this step up one more level and that is the way he killed his victims using as much torture and manipulation as possible.
In conclusion, Gacy did kill over thirty people. He did this because of the situations he dealt with as child. Over the course of his killing spree, Gacy learned how to manipulate his victims; he believed control and power could instill fear and he was right. Helen Morrison was very brave in her research and interview of John Wayne Gacy. He not only tried to manipulate her during the interview, but the real impact came later when he, according to Morrison, Gacy sent her “crazed Christmas cards” (Morrison, 2004).
I personally think that John Wayne Gacy was unlike any other serial killer in the world. He was able to make a person do exactly what he wanted him to do, and in doing that it made him feel strong, possibly even stronger than his father. Gacy will live on in stories, killer profiles, and as one of the most feared serial killers in time.
Work Cited
Burger. (2008). Personality. Belmont, CA: Thomson Wadsworth.
Morrison. (2004). My life among the serial killers. New York: HarperCollins Publishers.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Some Limericks
There was a young woman of Wausau,
Who up north lived with her pa
Till a chilly freeze
Put her on her knees
Stuck her in the snow till she thaw.
There was an old drunk from Manitowoc
Who stumbled and slipped on a dock
He tried to scream
Unknowingly in his dream
Till the alarm sounded from the clock.
There was a young man from Manitowoc
His hair was shaped in a Mohawk
Went down the street
Quaking his feet
Where the children drew with pieces of chalk.
There was a man named Craig
Who was shot in the leg
The deer around
Ran from the ground
And the other man ran for the keg.
There was a man named Rob
Who liked eating corn on the cob
He lost a tooth
Sat on a booth
And yelled to the man on the job.
Who up north lived with her pa
Till a chilly freeze
Put her on her knees
Stuck her in the snow till she thaw.
There was an old drunk from Manitowoc
Who stumbled and slipped on a dock
He tried to scream
Unknowingly in his dream
Till the alarm sounded from the clock.
There was a young man from Manitowoc
His hair was shaped in a Mohawk
Went down the street
Quaking his feet
Where the children drew with pieces of chalk.
There was a man named Craig
Who was shot in the leg
The deer around
Ran from the ground
And the other man ran for the keg.
There was a man named Rob
Who liked eating corn on the cob
He lost a tooth
Sat on a booth
And yelled to the man on the job.
Sonnet
Thought About Leaving
She has assumed to make exceptions for
Me, leaving no allowance for fault. Fear,
Comes chasing reality away. Cheer
Is heard from far and wide. No open door
Could cause a breeze so cold. I do more
To leave than to stay. Struggling, it’s clear
I have my hand ready to wipe her tear.
The other is to handle a backdoor.
Therefore, her soft hand rests on my shoulder,
I resist to make amends knowing she
Will not dig into black or white choice,
But rather stay grayish in her conquer.
I turn to greed and lust thinking that He
Has no power relating to my voice.
She has assumed to make exceptions for
Me, leaving no allowance for fault. Fear,
Comes chasing reality away. Cheer
Is heard from far and wide. No open door
Could cause a breeze so cold. I do more
To leave than to stay. Struggling, it’s clear
I have my hand ready to wipe her tear.
The other is to handle a backdoor.
Therefore, her soft hand rests on my shoulder,
I resist to make amends knowing she
Will not dig into black or white choice,
But rather stay grayish in her conquer.
I turn to greed and lust thinking that He
Has no power relating to my voice.
Sonnet
Fallback
I, here or there cannot ignite the flame.
Even shame cannot qualify as truth.
In preparation, there is no false claim
To the pure beauty of her deadly youth.
In staying she holds my dignity in
Her pale palm. And earth, wind, and fire be
One. Sweltered heat enrages vengeance. Sin
Occupies her mindset. Lusting, far-from
Any, one thing to hold on to, she cries
One love, one hate. There is no turning back.
Inside part of me is alive, other lies,
Somewhere I hear comeback rather fallback.
But I will walk away now. Forever
Letting her have the earth, wind, and fire.
I, here or there cannot ignite the flame.
Even shame cannot qualify as truth.
In preparation, there is no false claim
To the pure beauty of her deadly youth.
In staying she holds my dignity in
Her pale palm. And earth, wind, and fire be
One. Sweltered heat enrages vengeance. Sin
Occupies her mindset. Lusting, far-from
Any, one thing to hold on to, she cries
One love, one hate. There is no turning back.
Inside part of me is alive, other lies,
Somewhere I hear comeback rather fallback.
But I will walk away now. Forever
Letting her have the earth, wind, and fire.
Carousing Crickets
Those chattering crickets
Along the creaking creek edge.
Conveying mixed messages
From memory mocking
Each whining whisper,
Wailing ripples of wicked sound.
Like water lusciously
Lapping against lengthy shore.
I see shining silhouettes
Brightly showing the paths
Of those nasty noisemakers
Screaming naïve echoes.
Measure dark distance between
Myself and crickets, dim
Is there sad sound
As I slowly, somberly proceed near,
There message, soft, sudden
Nothing, totally silent.
But I turn, tear away
And the crickets tweet again.
My boots crush and crumple
Against the coarse, crabby grass.
I see the bare under the bark
Of a nearby birch
And I sit silent
Again hearing whining whispers
Of those carousing crickets
Their message is not clear.
Along the creaking creek edge.
Conveying mixed messages
From memory mocking
Each whining whisper,
Wailing ripples of wicked sound.
Like water lusciously
Lapping against lengthy shore.
I see shining silhouettes
Brightly showing the paths
Of those nasty noisemakers
Screaming naïve echoes.
Measure dark distance between
Myself and crickets, dim
Is there sad sound
As I slowly, somberly proceed near,
There message, soft, sudden
Nothing, totally silent.
But I turn, tear away
And the crickets tweet again.
My boots crush and crumple
Against the coarse, crabby grass.
I see the bare under the bark
Of a nearby birch
And I sit silent
Again hearing whining whispers
Of those carousing crickets
Their message is not clear.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Haiku
Summer
Fireflies buzz away.
The crop of corn has a maze,
The path lights the way.
Spring
April nights of rain,
Flowers blooming in the day
Take away the pain.
Winter
Trudging along rocks.
Well passed the snow and ice on
The now empty docks.
Autumn
Nature’s art is born.
Burnt autumn leaves weeping with
Colors left to mourn.
Tanka (Winter)
Trudging along rock.
Well passed the snow and ice on
The now empty dock.
A mother’s voice rings out in
Utter dismay, screaming shock.
Summer
Summer heat shimmers.
Sliced apple pie by my
Rustic window simmers.
Fall/Winter
Bare maple branches.
No more does the robin
Perch upon the lifeless limbs.
Summer
Roasting Vienna
Sausage with steamed buns, peppers,
Chicago style please.
Fear
Whistling winds howl.
Still, the mice run from the great-
Horned owl.
Summer/Nature
Mayflies skimming creeks.
A bullfrog waits patiently
Under murky mess.
Physical
A child’s chest rising
Up and down. Mother’s hand is
Pleasing to the touch.
Nature
Along a forest,
In the center of an oak
Lays ten rings of age.
Fireflies buzz away.
The crop of corn has a maze,
The path lights the way.
Spring
April nights of rain,
Flowers blooming in the day
Take away the pain.
Winter
Trudging along rocks.
Well passed the snow and ice on
The now empty docks.
Autumn
Nature’s art is born.
Burnt autumn leaves weeping with
Colors left to mourn.
Tanka (Winter)
Trudging along rock.
Well passed the snow and ice on
The now empty dock.
A mother’s voice rings out in
Utter dismay, screaming shock.
Summer
Summer heat shimmers.
Sliced apple pie by my
Rustic window simmers.
Fall/Winter
Bare maple branches.
No more does the robin
Perch upon the lifeless limbs.
Summer
Roasting Vienna
Sausage with steamed buns, peppers,
Chicago style please.
Fear
Whistling winds howl.
Still, the mice run from the great-
Horned owl.
Summer/Nature
Mayflies skimming creeks.
A bullfrog waits patiently
Under murky mess.
Physical
A child’s chest rising
Up and down. Mother’s hand is
Pleasing to the touch.
Nature
Along a forest,
In the center of an oak
Lays ten rings of age.
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