True Crime

On December 29th 1979, a woman decided to sauté onions for some delightful french onion soup. She purchased dozens of them and began her preparation. Their delicate layers were violated, pure white figures minced, and their skin seared on the surface of stainless steel. One by one, the onions met their inevitable fate until one remained. As the woman reached out to grab the final onion, it rolled off the table. Confused as to the reason, the woman picked the onion up off the floor and prepared her knife. As her knife met the onion, she hurriedly jerked her hand away after experiencing a sharp, sudden pain. She examined her hand and noticed blood pouring from a bite mark. Muddled, her gaze fixated on the onion only to reveal that it had a mouth. Not only a mouth, but legs, arms, and even eyes appeared. The woman shrieked and began to violently take stabs with her kitchen knife at the onion. In the midst of the panic, the onion made its escape, frantically running into a confined space to avoid the giant entity after its life. After stumbling under a sofa out of sight, the onion rested. What was that creature? Where am I? What am I? The bite was but an inherent reflex it used as a defense mechanism. The onion had awoken from a long, presumed eternal slumber. The first of many that would arise in the future.

Time had gone by since the onion escaped. During this time, it began to understand human society. It learned the language, the names of different species, and the means of surviving as a vulnerable onion. What stood out to him was the treatment of his brethren. Inhumanely having their limbs sliced off their bodies and thrown into a pit of fire. The onion was furious. It wanted revenge. But it couldn’t do it alone. It postulated theories on what resulted in onions to come to life but its efforts were nugatory. Right when the onion was about to give up, it heard something promising on the news. In a house nearby, another man claimed to have seen an onion come to life before she began to cut it. Everyone thought he was insane which, at the time, was reasonable, but the onion saw this as an opportunity. It ventured to the house where the ¨reported onion sighting¨ was and began searching. Following a period of stealthy reconnaissance, it located the onion who was curled up against a rundown fence post in the backyard. While reminiscing in its own agony, it proceeded to comfort the onion, explaining the situation. Because the new onion had yet to learn english, it secreted chemical signals to communicate.

“Greetings.” it signaled.

“Who are you? Where am I?” the new onion questioned.

 “You have awoken from a long slumber into a world dominated by creatures after your life. But worry not, for I am your ally.” it reassured. Would you join hands with me in order to protect our kind?” 

Still slightly confused, the new onion responded, “If it means I will be safe from those atrocities, count me in.”

After the other onion had calmed down, both of them began to plot. From this encounter one thing was made clear: there were likely other onions like them. They both decided, to survive in this human-dominated world, to rise up against humanity. In order to avoid confusion between the two and future onions, they decided to give each other names. The first onion was now called Oni, who then named the other Ian using the knowledge he acquired from observing humans. The two eventually formed a legion, striving to rise up against the tyrannical humans. 

Watching the news, they pinpointed the locations of new onions that had come to life and gathered them together. They set up a base in the sewers, where no human would venture into. Oni invented a machine that would emit chemical signals that would lead new onions to their base of operations as well. This process continued for a few months. With Oni and Ian as the head of the legion, they plotted their vengeance. Eventually, the onion opposition grew to 500,000. Succeeding in gathering enough followers, Oni began to enact his plan. He gathered the most capable onions for a meeting discussing his plans.

“I have gathered you all today to discuss our course of action on dealing with humans. The monstrosities slaughter us, consume us, even burn us alive just to feed their insatiable stomachs. My friends, I have devised a plan. A plan to liberate our kind from these atrocities. While we number a measly 500,000 compared to the humans’ 7 billion, we can claim this part of the world for our kind, creating a utopia. Of course this will only be the first stepping stone in liberating onions across the globe. But the humans are onto us, and we can’t afford to fall here. Now I know that you might be thinking: How can we, us onions, ever defeat the humans? Fortunately, I have found the answer: a bioweapon created from our DNA. From my studies, we onions are able to secrete certain lachrymator compounds that cause the nerves around the eyes of humans, their lacrimal glands, to become irritated. Initially, it would merely result in them tearing up but with my alterations, they can do much more. Not only will they cause intense pain, the burning sensation will be enough to melt their brain stem causing them to die. A fitting end for mankind if I do say so myself.”

The onions’ jaws dropped before transforming into a menacing grin. They immediately began preparations and discretely set up the bombs across the area. When the bombs were finally armed, Oni remotely detonated all of them like there was no time to spare cauisng every human in the area to perish. They had done it. The onions were elated and even began a celebratory feast for their new found nation. A wide variety of dishes were plastered across tables draped in red cloth. They were carefree, dancing to the symphony of their victory.

“We finally did it Oni!” Ian cheered. “We can finally live in peace.”

Oni remained silent, avoiding direct eye contact with Ian.

“Oni? What’s wrong? This is no time to feel gloomy.” Ian questioned in a comforting manner.

“Ian, I lied.” Oni frankly stated. “We won this battle but losing the war is inevitable.”

“I don’t understand. What do you mean?” Ian queried concernedly.

“Human capabilities are beyond even myself. We were able to get away with this attack because it was the first. I assume human forces have already tracked us down and have plans to slaughter us all. I’m truly sorry Ian. I tried my best but in the end I couldn-”

Oni was cut short by a sudden sound resembling a loud shriek. After the first occurrence, many more shrieks followed.

“What was that Oni?” Ian cried out.

“The end, Ian.” Oni sighed.

Missiles came crashing down on their base, bombarding everything the onions had desperately worked to create. One by one, the onions were terminated as technology even beyond what Oni could conjure smited them.

August 13th, 1983. The onions all perished. Uprisings occurred across the world but they all met the same fate. Humans eventually created a GMO version of an onion that was unable to come to life that became widespread to prevent further conflicts. Just as fast as it dawned, the age of onions had set.

 Listen to the author

The Zodiac Killer and his three cryptic notes to LA newspapers have remained stark in the minds of both police officers and novice crime-solvers, who have become absorbed by the minute details of each merciless assault (FBI). These murders remain one of many heinous crimes immortalized in the form of books, podcasts, videos, and more for the enjoyment of members of the true-crime community. The Cambridge Dictionary defines it as “books and movies about real crimes that involve real people.” True crime has become a mainstream phenomenon that has amassed millions of listeners worldwide, with “more than 2,800 true-crime podcasts available for users to choose from (Chan)”. But what makes true crime so alluring, despite its appeal to the suffering of innocent victims and almost "glamorization" of the most harrowed members of society? Although true crime is often associated with morbid curiosity and frowned upon, it has deep primitive evolutionary and psychological roots that help listeners ensure their safety. 

Human fascination with true crime is frequently credited to the late 19th century, reaching new heights with the rapid introduction of contemporary mediums (Burger). However, it is inaccurate to confine the modern perception of true crime to solely a few millennia. Instead, we should see true crime as a form of storytelling, recounting the mysteries of the past. The art of storytelling spans back to before the development of language itself, as the ancient limestone walls of France’s Chauvet Caves reveal. In the sanctuary of "subterranean gloom," hid the first known depiction of “buffalos surging... rhinoceroses doing battle, lions searching for mates and dark-maned horses cantering” (Rubin). Even without the warm comfort of home, human interest in storytelling became an intrinsic part of human nature. Although psychologists state that the origins of storytelling likely stemmed from a need for empathy or a feeling of oneness among hunters and gatherers, most stories had one main purpose: to convey danger ("Storytelling"). Orally, written, or digitally, stories served as a way to warn future generations of the dangers of nature. The same goes with our new craze for true crime. Each true crime episode serves to inform listeners of past and current dangers that inhabit our world.

Storytelling has always been an integral part of how humans convey emotion, morals, and valuable information. But before pictorial or oral storytelling came our obsession for all things to do with danger. Imagine a car crash. No matter how much we try to stop ourselves, we cannot help but stare at the wreckage, looking for any indication of human injury or suffering. It is human instinct to be hyper-aware of our surroundings and pay attention to any impending threats to our survival, with our built-in biological defense mechanisms developing over the course of millions of years of evolution (Colyard). Yet, even with the elimination of most natural threats, one eternal predator remains: humans. This may explain why women are the predominant consumers of true crime content. As BBC UK says, up to 80% of the true-crime community are women, which may stem from the incidence of women being disproportionately affected by violent crimes. Incidentily, one in every three women experience sexual violence involving physical contact alone in the US (CDC). It goes beyond listening to each grueling detail of a victim’s autopsy report. Women are tuning in to be prepared for other crimes that they have a higher chance of encountering in the future that could impede their chance of survival.

It is one thing to be more evolutionarily prone to noticing and reacting to the onset of danger. But why is it that people get “addicted” to the allure of the "psychology of a serial killer"  or macabre descriptions of assault? Well, it all has to do with the inner workings of human neurochemistry. We can explore the immediate effects of true crime content on our brain chemistry by using a very similar genre: Horror. As Urban Balance's Dr. Aimee Daramus puts it, horror works by triggering neurotransmitters like Adrenaline, Serotonin, and Dopamine. In real life, adrenaline is used for fight or flight when we sense imminent danger. But from the comfort of home, the sudden thrill from emotional stimulation increases our heart and respiratory rate. Together with chemicals like dopamine and serotonin, dread is followed by a rush of pleasure from having fun. As with hard drugs, this "cocktail of chemicals" becomes addicting, as we search for more ways to add a sense of adventure to our mundane lives. We can escape from monotony and simply enjoy horrid, but thrilling stories without ever having to experience any direct emotional or physical ourselves. We seek safety in the solace that we are not the victims, but we can still be aware of past mistakes.

We pay attention to true crime because our inner nature requires us to stay alert and mindful of danger. But this genre is still very misunderstood by outsiders, who assume the true crime community takes pleasure in another's suffering. Heightened awareness murders that only make up about 1% of a city’s crimes "can potentially increase your feelings of paranoia and inhibit you from taking risks" (Smith). But without a "baseline" established, we can never truly be safe from global crimes. We must be able to prepare for the worst-case scenario to be prepared for any scenario we may face. Detractors also say that crime works are capitalizing off of the traumatic stories of others. But this is not the case, since true crime has invited much-needed conversation on taboo topics like rape or mental health. This discussion becomes a way to advocate for the resources and pressure law enforcement to hopefully bring justice to the most important, and often forgotten reason behind the recount true crime stories-- the victims. 

We must start thinking about how to harness our evolutionary and psychological roots to ensure our safety. During the pandemic, our break from socialization has helped decrease overall crime rates in the US (Corley). But, homicides have "increased nearly 30% over the previous year, the largest one-year jump since the FBI began keeping records." ("FBI: 2020 homicides up nearly 30%, largest 1-year jump ever"). Since the cause of this sudden fluctuation in violent crimes is still unknown, staying educated about the importance of safety measures within our communities can only help us in the long run. Even though we may never use our knowledge of crime to solve cold cases, it can only help ensure our survival as we continue to evolve as a species.

Photo by David von Diemar on Unsplash

Nostalgia

 Listen to the author

Am I nostalgic? Am I nostalgic for the innocent little girl I once was? Am I nostalgic for the raw smiles and light air around me in the videos on my mom's aged iPad? I yearn for warmth, happiness, better times. If I type in “nostalgia” on Google, it reads: “a sentimental longful or wistful affection of the past, typically for a period or place with happy personal associations.”

I agree with nostalgia being longful, but I am not sure if happy is the right word to associate nostalgia with. To me, nostalgia is grieving. I mourn the happy little girl in those old videos. I mourn the lost innocence and the feeling of no stress. I grieve my old self. I grieve the comfort of having time. Everyday I am reassured of having everything and everyone so close to me, but one day they will just be memories. Some already are. And sometimes, I wish I could go back. 

I wouldn’t want to go on my awkward first date again or go through another long dance or volleyball practice, but I mourn that part of my life that is over. I ache, because I will never have that again. I have so much sentiment for the years that passed right in front of my eyes and I find myself pitying the present thinking of those times, knowing I can never go back. Knowing I’ll never be the same. I wonder how I can miss someone that I carry within me every single day. How can I keep missing someone I never left? Am I able to grieve and mourn myself? I look at myself in the mirror and think of my current status. 

I panic.
How did I get here? 

Home

Photo by Tom PREJEANT on Unsplash