Thanks to the CSI craze, yesterday’s media was all a-flutter about the “crime scene students” who found a real dead body. Of course, it’s much, much less interesting than that. A Ford Lauderdale teacher, attempting to exploit the inexplicable popularity of network television, sent a bunch of pimpley, squeaky-voiced high schoolers to investigate a fake crime scene set up in the park. During their adventures, the kids stumbled onto the body of an unfortunate homeless man whose claim to fame is that he was found by high schoolers studying a flavor-of-the-week subject glamorized by T.V. shows featuring beautiful actors lifting fingerprints from stylish martini glasses, collecting semen samples from casino orgies, and eviscerating murdered bikini models.
(This moving obituary has been brought to you by Cultural Elitism. Don’t leave home without it.)
Is there anything sexier than a shackled criminal? Of course there isn’t. That’s why Scott Peterson is bombarded with love letters, Charles Manson receives scores of marriage proposals, and somewhere out there, Ted Bundy’s spawn is being raised by a woman who couldn’t resist the romantic appeal of conjugal visits with a guy who raped and murdered dozens of girls and women.