Psycho Killer - Jack the Ripper

I can't seem to face up to the facts

I'm tense and nervous and I

Can't relax

I can't sleep 'cause my bed's on fire

Don't touch me I'm a real live wire

Psycho Killer

Qu'est-ce que c'est

Fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-far better

Run run run run run run run away

Psycho Killer

Qu'est-ce que c'est

Fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-far better

Run, run, run, run, run, run, run, away

-Talking Heads (Song here, Lyrics here)

I have heard stories of Jack the Ripper since I was a child, I likened Jack to the Boogeyman of the streets; he would be watching, waiting, wondering when his next victim would stray into his sight. I also knew that he was a serial killer in Victorian London. What I learned prior to this excursion, however, was that he was never caught. This helped heighten my anticipation of the tour. When we arrived, the mood had been all but set for us: it was cold, windy, rainy, dark, and quiet. It was a perfectly miserable night. I was excited.

The beginning of our tour.

Jack would frequent alleys such as this to find his victims.

On the tour, we learned a great deal about Jack and his victims. I did not expect him to have such a grisly M.O. (near decapitation followed by complete disembowelment), or specific targets (prostitutes). The descriptions of these murders made us nauseous. Moreover, I did not know that the murders took place over a short period of time: six weeks. Yet, these "White Chapel Murders" were enough to throw Victorian London into a frenzy. One of the most disturbing moments of our tour was when our guide showed us actual police photos of the victims.

 

The streets of White Chapel are deathly quiet at night.

Another equally disturbing moment on the tour: we stood across the street from a modern-day fish and chips shop. This was the spot where Jack had left his only clue: a blood-stained rag. Our tour guide had us step into the Jack’s shoes; he had us imagine ourselves, as Jack, with a blood-covered knife in one hand, a kidney in the other, running across the street, filled with blood-lust and adrenaline, trying to figure out a way to minimize the amount of evidence he would leave behind. To step into the shoes of a notorious serial killer was very unsettling. These experiences, combined with the photographs of each of his victims, made Jack someone (or shall I say “something”) that we won't soon forget.

-Greg