Well, Edgar Allan Poe’s Murder Mystery Invite Only Casual Dinner Party/Gala for Friends Potluck is into its second week and their new transmedia prompt is Red Herring. How delicious as even last week I had come up with a red herring theory. Presented in the form of fanfiction, I present it to you.
“Imbeciles.” Agatha Christie grinned to herself “Flitting about inside that dining room like chickens with their heads cut off. (”Ooh, wouldn’t that be fun!” she added in her head) Not one of them has any idea what’s truly going on. Poor Edgar, such a simpleton to believe I’d be running late. Of course he has no idea that my little cohort is doing her job perfectly and she doesn’t even know it. Poor thing. She and Edgar are going to go down in history, forgotten as their work is shamed by their actions this night. And I shall come out on top.”
The screams from inside continued, mixed with heaving coughs as a thud reached Agatha’s ears.
Perfect, she thought, and rang the doorbell with her white-gloved finger.
(I’m assuming this is how the next episode will begin from the perspective of inside.)
OR IT HAPPENED LIKE THIS
Emily’s mind flooded with glee as she saw the little flies drop one by one. Of course she had to pretend like nothing happened, but no matter. Everything was going according to plan. She could take that stupid ghost’s jeers and getting left out of the story, because SHE was the the writing the story anyway. Edgar would regret his not inviting her by the end of this night. And of course so would dear Agatha. The perfect fall girl mastermind for Emily’s delicious plot. Everything was going according to plan. Right down to Agatha’s arrival time. Emily grinned as the others rushed the door.
Hopefully one of these turns out right. Lol. I’m really really excited to see what happens next. Love to all the Shipwrecked cast and crew. Thank you guys for making my Mondays a little better. Also, Elmingway4lyfe.
“I’m only tender with you in order to watch you respond, to watch you thinking that I’m something I’m not. You’re grunting like a stupid animal. You think I’m a passionate whore. The truth is, I could murder you right now. But I won’t. Then you’d be useless. I need you. I have to pretend that I’m caught up in this, that I’m “abandoned”, so that you in turn will respond exactly how I want you to. I’m standing above us, watching our imbecilic bodies press and grind, each of us thinking we’ve fooled the other. I’d like to throw gasoline over the sweating heap and light it, watch us scream dumb pain as we burn. I make myself sick.”
“I’m sorry they were assholes.” Reggie mumbles to the poor girl as he approached her after arguing with his supervisors for an hour about the previous watch guards were mistreating the suspect in question. If he had been more upset he would not have held his tongue, but at this point yelling never helped anyone’s case — even if he was usually right. He will still give those imbeciles a piece of his mind after he has seen this case through. Some cops are crooked, awful, or even down right mean for no reason at all and even cops knew this too – Reggie more than others. At least when it came to authoritarian figures he knew that not every authority is right but also that there is a large gray area between what is lawfully good and what it is that he does.
“What was your name again, ma’am? My name is Reggie and I’ll be helping you with this case from here on out. Notice how I said help instead of what my two colleagues were doing for you earlier.” He settles down in the desk next to where the girl is sitting and he looks over a couple of the eye catching files on his desk before turning back to her. “I’m going to go out on a limb and say you didn’t smack this man in the head with – what was it that they said it was with? – it was a large baselball bat. I’m guessing you were not the one who hit him in the head after leaving fingerprints all over the crime scene?”
Autism (or something very like it) described in 1912.
Here’s the text from a blog post I made years ago on the subject: Everything below here is a quote from a blog post I made on March 5th, 2006. And if you don’t want to read the old terminology like ‘imbecile’ and 'low-grade’, you might want to skip this post. Spread this (or the original post) around far and wide if you see people saying autism began in 1943 with Leo Kanner. The reality is that prior to Kanner, autistic people were diagnosed as either schizophrenic, intellectually disabled, or had no diagnosis at all. Those are still common misdiagnoses to this day. So on to the post:
I’m reading around in some rather disgusting American eugenics literature for historical purposes. I have found a letter from Mary Dendy to Karl Pearson, dated 1912, that reads partially as follows:
Imbeciles – It is difficult to find a definition of these which does not apply for low-grade Feeble-minded. They may be described as low-grade F.M. who are not able to be taught the proper care of their persons and whose habits require constant attention. They are apt to be excessively restless, to “echo” (i.e. repeat words instead of answering them.) They are occasionally destructive and apparently cruel, though it is probable that their acts of cruelty are due not to an instinct to give pain, but an instinct to destroy. If able-bodied they can be taught to work, i.e. to repeat the same movement over and over again, in a purely mechanical manner. They often use repeated movements of some part of the body quite without purpose, as striking the head rhythmically with the hand. Their articulation is generally very defective and they sometimes have little or no speech.
She describes “low-grades” as “sometimes having special mental gifts, but more commonly low-grade all round”.
Hmm. It always amazes me when I run into this stuff and remember that some people actually believe that autistic people didn’t exist until Leo Kanner. We were — some of us anyway — spread out among a number of classifications of “mental defectives”, which is what they considered a broad range of people back then.