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low-yield murder |
"skull-brain trauma" |
podyezd |
really stupid criminal |
children |
cries for help ignored |
murder-suicide |
"investigation continuing" |
carved up like a turkey |
related to victim's job |
cannibalism |
riddled with bullets |
old people |
Canada |
Lock the Little Bugger in the Cabinet!
Hi there, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the special Saturday morning children's edition of Death Porn! We're going to kick off our show today with a funny little tale out of the far Eastern province of Buryatiya, land of the Hugely Outnumbered Roundeye, where a husband and wife team called the Novikovs may have set new standards for child abuse. No one had noticed wife Oyuna or husband Ivan acting unusual in any way over the New Year-they even had a party at their apartment. It was a jolly holiday night: champagne, songs, laughter, and tears...Well, not their tears, of course, but tears all the same. Probably...See, there was one guest missing, although no one noticed it at the time. The Novikovs' eight year-old son, Alyosha, had been doing the modern-Russian-children-should-neither-be-seen-nor-heard-even-if-it
-means-their-mouths-have-to-be-gaffer-taped-shut thing for a little while, and if anyone had bothered to look for him, they
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"Get this faggot off the set! Get him off! He ain't nuthin! This my show! I AM Different Strokes!" |
would have had trouble finding him. That's because Oyuna had locked him in her bedroom cabinet a few weeks before. At first she'd locked him in there just during the day, letting him (vampire training? sleep-disorder torture?) run around the apartment and even eat a thing or two at night. Then she got bored of that and just kept him locked in there permanently, morning and night, in a "half-starved panic", as Kriminalnaya Khronika put it. Little Lyosha was in the cabinet, just a few yards away from the living room table, throughout the Novikovs' whole New Year's Party. He was quiet, though. In fact, after the New Year, they didn't hear much at all from him. And then, sometime just before Orthodox Christmas, Lyosha keeled over and died. Oyuna was pissed. How was she going to bury the body all by herself, while Ivan was at work? She had chores enough already...Frustrated, she called her sister to ask for help. Sis hesitated, realized she didn't have time, then decided to nark on Oyuna instead. After she dropped her dime the cops showed up at Oyuna's house and broke open the cupboard. They found Lyosha's body there. It weighed twelve and a half kilograms-not too good, for an eight year-old. He hadn't eaten his roughage. As for the motive, police subsequently learned that Oyuna had long ago been raped, and was convinced that Lyosha was not her husband's child. Later, after seven years of trying, the couple finally had their own natural child. Suddenly, the couple decided that Lyosha and his rape-spawn extra mouth were expendable. So they tossed him in the closet. Why they decided on that peculiarly agonizing and sadistic form of murder, no one can say. Anyway, both are up on murder one charges. They are being fed in jail, and get to take walks once a day.
But We've Still Got the Receipt!
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Moving west, here's another heartwarming story of parental dotage coming to you straight from the great city of Novgorod. It all started in July, 1997, when Nadezhda and Sergei Stolyarov checked out of the local rod-dom with their newborn baby daughter Katya. Nosetacklish matrons at the rod-dom noticed nothing unusual about the couple: just another set of happy parents. Tchya, right! A year later, the Novgorod city administration's social services department received a strange letter. It seemed that the Stolyarovs wanted to send Katya back-unload her back into the arms of the state. The letter was a little vague, so the city bureaucrats decided to check things out. They crashed the Stolyarov home unexpected and found little Katyusha bound and gagged in her crib. She was removed from the home and examined by a doctor; they found evidence of two fractures of the hip. A criminal neglect proceeding was set in motion...Meanwhile, the parents sued the state for a nullification of their parental responsibilities. The basis for their suit? They "couldn't love the child". Anyway, they lost the suit, but still got what they wanted-the state took the child away and put her in an orphanage. And the sentence for the neglect charges wasn't, in the end, all that bad-a years' probation, with 20 percent of their salary reverted to the state. And justice for all!
But He Left the Meat Behind!
Let's take a ride on the Reading now and head to Vologda, where some kids are just having the time of their lives. Or, at least, they're having lives,
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"Mommy, how come none of the other kids have fatal hand wounds?" |
which is a good start these days. One family, the Dudnikovs, found a novel way to stay fed. They wre standard despairing-broken-home stuff; drunk estranged father, single mom, no alimony, no job, no money intake, no government assistance, two kids, loads o' fun. They moved to Vologda just after the new year last year and quickly began to starve. Things turned very bad in March, when they were reduced, one rainy evening, to knocking on a neighbor's and buying one single lonely potato to share between all of them. God knows how long that potato lasted, but soon after they found themselves hungry again. Fourteen year-old Valery then logically decided to enter a life of crime to support his family. His first theft attempt came at the expense of the same elderly female neighbor who had sold his mother the potato. Thinking the old lady would be gone for a while, he slipped into her apartment through the window and searched around for food. He was almost through to the kitchen when...surprise! The lady of the house emerged from her bedroom and confronted him. An ultimate-fighting style struggle ensued...Hunger and youth won out. Valery strangled the old lady to death and then, unfazed, proceeded with the robbery. Dipping into the kitchen, he scooped out what has to be some of the most meager murder bounty in modern history: 15 kilograms of flour, 20 kilos of sugar, a kilo and a half's worth of sticky buns, a kilo of bread, two kilos of onions, eight cans of jam, and a little under a liter of sunflower oil. The family had just enough time to finish all that food before the police solved the crime and arrested the boy. The court took mercy on him and gave him just eight years' hard labor, which in Russian prisons is really a walk in the park, relatively. Mom and sis, as far as anyone knows, continue to suck eggs in downtown Vologda.
Canada Porn!
First it was the the Blue Jays, now it's high school shooting
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"So then, if we open up his chest like this, he'll probably die and we'll have one less mouth to feed!" |
rampages...Those weak-ass 24 million dweebs with their faces pressed up against the glass are playing copycat again. Not that they're good at it; while the "Trenchcoat Mafia" at Columbine High in Colorado put holes in a full 13 vics, plus themselves, proving once again what a motivated American can accomplish with a gun, the as-yet-unidentified Canadian copycat high-schooler in Taber, Alberta managed just one kill, and stupidly left himself alive and at the mercy of Royal Canadian law. The intrepid 14 year-old Albertan, whose identity is protected by a typically Canadian law which prohibits unkind people like the eXile from publishing the names of minor perpetrators, was even unoriginal enough to wear a trenchcoat to W.R. Myers High when he pulled his "I Don't Like Mondays" act. His one innovation was very much in the same spirit as the Canadian Football League organizers' timid insistence on reducing the ugly excess of four offensive downs to a polite three: he used a simple single-firing .22 rifle instead of sawed-off shotguns, automatics and explosives. The result was predictable: one lonely kill and four wounded. Nice aim, hoser! He probably would have gotten better results if he'd forced his class to drink a case of skunky Labatt's...Afterwards, there were no American-style church vigils full of weeping swollen-breasted big-haired high school chicks, no excessive national media campaigns, no E! entertainment television true crime insta-documentaries-no, nothing that embarassingly vulgar. Instead, the Canadian government quietly passed a resolution calling for restrictions on movie violence, and then the story quickly vanished from the news. You don't get 15 minutes of fame in Canada, but 30 seconds on public access TV...No word on what sentence Copycat Jr. faces, but the early prediction is three minutes for high-sticking and fifty hours community service in a logging camp. Eh?
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