Bizzare Death

At the 1994 annual awards dinner given for Forensic Science, AAFS President Dr. Don Harper Mills astounded his audience with the legal complications of a bizarre death. Here is the story:

On March 23, 1994 the medical examiner viewed the body of Ronald Opus and concluded that he died from a shotgun wound to the head. Mr. Opus had jumped from the top of a ten story building intending to commit suicide. He left a note to that effect indicating his despondency. As he fell past the ninth floor his life was interrupted by a shotgun blast passing through a window which killed him instantly. Neither the shooter nor the decedent was aware that a safety net had been installed just below at the eighth floor level to protect some building workers and that Ronald Opus would not have been able to complete his suicide the way he had planned.
"Ordinarily," Dr. Mills continued, "A person who sets out to commit suicide and ultimately succeeds even though the mechanism might not be what he intended" is still defined as committing suicide. That Mr. Opus was shot on the way to certain death nine stories below at street level that probably would not have been successful because of the safety net, caused the medical examiner to feel that he had a homicide on his hands.

The room on the ninth floor whence the shotgun blast emanated was occupied by an elderly man and his wife. They were arguing vigorously, and he was threatening her with a shotgun. The man was so upset that when he pulled the trigger he completely missed his wife and the pellets went through the window striking Mister Opus.

When one intends to kill subject A but kills subject B in the attempt, one is guilty of the murder of subject B. When confronted with the murder charge the old man and his wife were both adamant. They both said they thought the shotgun was unloaded. The old man said it was his long standing habit to threaten his wife with the unloaded shotgun. He had no intention to murder her. Therefore the killing of Mr. Opus appeared to be an accident; that is, the gun had been accidentally loaded.

The continuing investigation turned up a witness who saw the old couple's son loading the shotgun about six weeks prior to the fatal accident. It transpired that the old lady had cut off her son's financial support and the son, knowing the propensity of his father to use the shotgun threateningly, loaded the gun with the expectation that his father would shoot his mother. The case now becomes one of murder on the part of the son for the death of Ronald Opus.

Now comes the exquisite twist. Further investigation revealed that the son was in fact Ronald Opus. He had become increasingly despondent over the failure of his attempt to engineer his mother's murder. This led him to jump off the ten story building on March 23rd, only to be killed by a shotgun blast passing through the ninth story window. The son had actually murdered himself so the medical examiner closed the case as a suicide. Very tidy of him.
(Allegedly a true story from Associated Press, by Kurt Westervelt)






Middle Finger

Giving someone "the finger" is one of the basest violations in modern culture, but its origins date back over 2500 years. The first written record of the insult occurred in ancient Greece, where the playwright Aristophanes (the Adam Sandler of his day) made a crude joke mixing up the middle finger and the penis. Even back then, the bird was considered an aggressive, phallic put-down. It has been argued by anthropologists that the finger is a a variant of a classic "phallic aggressive" gesture used by primates. By jabbing a threatening phallus at your enemy like a wild animal, you aren't just belittling him, but also making him your sexual inferior. Instead of using a real penis, civilized Janes and Platos called upon the substitute wieners within their own hands to mock, threaten, and humiliate opponents. And boy did it........ When the Romans imported the art, music, and culture of the Greeks, the finger came along, too. Roman Emperor Caligula, a pioneer in perversity, frequently shocked his citizens by forcing them to kiss his middle finger instead of his hand. One of his subjects, Cassius, who Caligula often taunted as being too effeminate, finally had enough humiliation and assassinated him. Clearly, the bird was not to be taken lightly. During the middle Ages, the finger went underground. It was still known, but the Catholic Church frowned upon its use, as the middle finger was supposed to be holy in the Mass. The unholy insult lurked deep within the hearts of filthy- minded folks everywhere, hiding from sight until the 19th century when it began to crop up again thanks to a new invention –photographyIn the polyglot, immigrant mish-mash of early 20th century America, the finger was the one symbol every man, woman and dog could understand. With the invention of the automobile, it could be delivered from behind the safety of glass & steel, and at great speeds. All the finger needs to deliver its punch is a clear line of sight. Check out THIS horizon line, baby!Throughout the 20th century, the finger has penetrated all levels of society. Roughhewn farmers did it, hippies did it, and even the Vice President of the United States got into the act. At a campaign stop for Senator Bob Dole in 1976, Nelson Rockefeller was heckled by protesters telling him what they thought of his Vietnam war policy by casting their middle finger votes. Even, Socrates showed his largest finger in a round table conf, where his theory was put down.

Why this....???

Why blog????
So here I am answering-this blog is a look at the thoughts that zip through my brain, the emotions that fizz in my veins and the ideas that constantly redefine my existence. An explanation and apology for why I am the way I am.

you see, I am an absolute prisoner of my memories and my wild imaginations....
....he he he he..... a devilish grin...Chintan

Meanderings

Always the same humdrum oblivion. Nothing, then nothing more, and more nothings again.
I find myself constantly fixated on a point in space that is inevitably then filled by a random person who's no doubt wondering who the weirdo staring at them is. And what they're looking at. Tragically, the answer to that is...nothing again.
Last evening as we felt tired and a bit lost after the nothingness, I got ‘V (Vivek)’ together and went on a 'round-the-clock' bender to the P' . Yes, this is something that only a true alcee like me would attempt. Goshhhhhhhhh…


Alright, so it’s me to sigh on the proof that I have finally survived and have not died from 35% of it in me. So, I'm definitely on the happy uphill ride to wasted-land. The effect of the OH is certainly exacerbated by the fact that I slept by 4am and awake since 6 this morning to catch up that fucking office-bus ( that sucking driver is never late ).
When Tequila was showing me the entire fascinating skyline, I felt a strong urge to call up my good old friend 'G'(Gajendra). He sounded overworked, but still trying to keep in good spirits... which was reassuring to hear. . But he sounded like he was keeping his head above water (forgive me if I sound a tad patronizing, it's not intended that way). So again that weirdo sentence “I’ll call you latter”...Huh…..I hate this sentence…
What to write Chintan, nothing is happening in this bleak life… !! so I pen up.

Chintan

There's always a thin line between Beleive and Faith. Truely speaking , I have never tasted faith. But I do beleive the supreme power. The reason behind this is that I hardly have faith, but yeah I do beleive in my self.

Mein iss duniya ko aksar dekh kar hairan hota hoon,
Khuda-ya tune kaise yeh Jahaan sara bana daala...??

One Extra bedroom

This is one of the story which I received as Daily forwards. But some how it managed to bring my fear out.

One Extra BedRoom...

As the dream of most parents I had acquired a degree in Software Engineer and joined a company based in USA, the land of braves and opportunity.  When I arrived in the USA, it was as if a dream had come true. Here at last I was in the place where I want to be. I decided I would be staying in this country for about Five years in which time I would have earned enough money to settle down in India. My father was a government employee and after his retirement, the only asset he could acquire was a decent one bedroom flat. I wanted to do some thing more than him. I started feeling homesick and lonely as the time passed. I used to call home and speak to my parents every week using cheap international phone cards. Two years passed, two years of Burgers at McDonald's and pizzas and discos and 2 years watching the foreign exchange rate getting happy whenever the Rupee value went down. Finally I decided to get married. Told my parents that I have only 10 days of holidays and everything must be done within these 10 days. I got my ticket booked in the cheapest flight. Was jubilant and was actually enjoying hopping for gifts for all my friends back home.  If I miss anyone then there will be talks. After reaching home I spent home one week going through all the photographs of girls and as the time was getting shorter I was forced to select one candidate. In-laws told me, to my surprise, that I would have to get married in 2-3 days, as I will not get anymore holidays. After the marriage, it was time to return to USA, after giving some money to my parents and telling the neighbors to look after them, we returned to USA. My wife enjoyed this country for about two months and then she started feeling lonely. The frequency of calling India increased to twice in a week sometimes 3 times a week. Our savings started diminishing. After two more years we started to have kids. Two lovely kids, a boy and a girl, were gifted to us by the almighty. Every time I spoke to my parents, they asked me to come to India so that they can see their grand-children. Every year I decide to go to India. But part work part monetary conditions prevented it. Years went by and visiting India was a distant dream. Then suddenly one day I got a message that my parents were seriously sick. I tried but I couldn't get any holidays and thus could not go to India. The next message I got was my parents had passed away and as there was no one to do the last rights the society members had done whatever they could. I was depressed. My parents had passed away without seeing their grand children. After couple more years passed away, much to my children's dislike and my wife's joy we returned to India to settle down. I started to look for a suitable property, but to my dismay my savings were short and the property prices had gone up during all these years. I had to return to the USA. My wife refused to come back with me and my children refused to stay in India. My 2 children and I returned to USA after promising my wife  I would be back for good after two years. Time passed by, my daughter decided to get married to an American and my son was happy living in USA. I decided that had enough and wound-up every thing and returned to India. I had just enough money to buy a decent 02 bedroom flat in a well-developed locality. Now I am 60 years old and the only time I go out of the flat is for the routine visit to the nearby temple. My faithful wife has also left me and gone to the holy abode. Sometimes I wondered was it worth all this? My father, even after staying in India, had a house to his name and I too have the same nothing more. I lost my parents and children for just ONE EXTRA BEDROOM. Looking out from the window I see a lot of children dancing. This damned cable TV has spoiled our new generation and these children are losing their values and culture because of it. I get occasional cards from my children asking I am alright. Well at least they remember me. Now perhaps after I die it will be the neighbors again who will be performing my last rights, God Bless them. But the question still remains 'was all this worth it?' I am still searching for an answer................!!!!

I really laughed at the story ,though many of my pals found it touching. According to my "Chintan" - the narrator diversed from his focus. What was the hurry to marry. There he missed and life showed him it's ugly facade.