From his childhood, Charles Cullen was surrounded by death. His dad died while driving a bus when Cullen was seven months old. Four of his eight siblings died in their childhood. When he was seventeen, his mom died in a car accident.

A miserable child, Cullen attempted to commit suicide twenty times in the course of twenty years. Nothing like an annual tradition. The first occurred at the age of nine, when Cullen drank chemicals from his chemistry set. From there, the attempts got more creative, ranging from stealing drugs from the hospital in which he worked, to plunging a pair of scissors through his sick, twisted skull.

Charles Cullen was discharged from the Navy after trying to kill himself. Cullen was discharged from several hospitals for trying to kill himself (and others, as it would turn out later). He was discharged from his family for, once again, trying to kill himself. Cullen was overall a suicidal maniac who wished for others to feel the pain that he felt, but also be free.

Here’s a direct quote from Cullen’s (accurate. I checked) Wikipedia entry: In March 1993, [Cullen] broke into a co-worker’s home while she and her young son slept, but left without waking them. Cullen then started phoning her frequently, leaving numerous messages and following her at work and around town. The woman filed a complaint, and Cullen pleaded guilty to trespassing and was placed on a year’s probation. The day after his arrest, Cullen attempted suicide. He took two months off work, and was treated for depression in two psychiatric facilities. He attempted suicide two more times before the end of the year.

Insanity-pleading worthy? Yes, I think so. But that won’t save Charles Cullen from eternal death in the fiery pits of hell when he dies, now, will it? No, I think not.

Digoxin was Cullen’s weapon of choice. He used it to effectively murder five patients in 1996, and then the hospital bouncing began.

Warren Hospital in New Jersey from 1992 to 1993. Hunterdon Medical Center from 1993 to 1996. Morris Memorial Hospital in 1997. Liberty Nursing and Rehabilitation Center (ironic?) in Pennsylvania from 1997 to 1998. Easton Hospital from 1998 to 1999. Lehigh Valley Hospital in Pennsylvania in 1999. St. Luke’s Hospital from 1999 to 2000. Somerset Medical Center from 2002 to 2003.

In every one of those places, deaths occurred. At all of those job placement instances, Cullen tried to kill himself. And at every one of those occupations, Cullen was present in the room during a good 75% of the deaths. Odd, isn’t it?

Cullen was arrested on one count of murder and one count of attempted murder at a restaurant December 14, 2003. On December 14, 2003, Cullen admitted to the murder of Rev. Florian Gall and the attempted murder of Tin Kyushu Han, both patients at Somerset.

In April of 2004, Cullen pleaded guilty to murdering thirteen patients and attempting to kill two others by his own crude form of “lethal injection”. As part of a plea bargain, Charles Cullen promised to cooperate with the authorities if they were willing to not give him the death penalty. Twenty suicides attempts later, could Cullen be a changed man? Or does he wish to die at his own hand?

In May of that same year, Cullen pleaded guilty to the silent murders of three more patients. In November, Cullen pleaded guilty as the responsible party in the deaths of six patients and attempting to kill three more.

As of July 2005, Cullen remains in the Somerset County Jail as local and federal authorities continue to investigate the definite possibility of his responsibility for numerous other deaths.

As per the news, Cullen is serving a sentence of life in prison without parole for 30 years, to be served consecutively with his other sentences in Pennsylvania. On March 2, 2006, Cullen was sentenced to 11 consecutive life sentences in New Jersey, to be ineligible for parole for 397 years. Charles Cullen is held at New Jersey State Prison in Trenton.

May 19, 2009–The man accused of attacking the winner of Alaska’s biggest lottery with a metal pipe or rod pleaded guilty this week to a reduced charge of second-degree assault, a prosecutor said. Brandon Hughes, a 20-year-old from the Los Angeles area, was sentenced to three years in prison under a plea bargain, said prosecutor Clint Campion.

Hughes will be eligible for parole and time off for good behavior, which is usually about one-third of the sentence.

Anchorage Superior Court Judge Patrick McKay accepted the plea and sentenced Hughes on Monday.

The victim was Alec Ahsoak, a convicted sex offender who won the $500,000 jackpot in January. After taxes, Ahsoak took home a $350,000 prize. Hughes knew a relative of one or more of Ahsoak’s sexual abuse victims, according to authorities.

If you remember the original story, Alec Ahsoak received his registered sex offender status because he is a 2 time convicted child molester. Ahsoak was convicted of two counts of sexual abuse of a minor in 1993, and once again in 2000, according to Alaska’s sex offender registry (Click here to see Ahsoak’s report).

One thing we didn’t know at the time of the original story was the fact that Brandon Hughes was friends with a relative of one of Alec Ahsoak’s victims. So Hughes’ “tune up” of Alec the Diddler’s head was not some random act of a guy who saw a child molester on the street and decided to rough him up – he had a personal stake in it.

Brandon Hughes’ mistake was running, forcing the police to look for him, and getting rid of the tire iron. I’ve said this in the original thread, but if I was in his position, I would have waited for the police after I’d finished adjusting Alec Ahsoak’s attitude and admitted to what I’d done.

We can argue about whether or not Brandon Hughes should have taken justice into his own hands all day long, but I think we can all agree there were only two roads for him to choose once the beat down was over. If you’re going to go so far as to commit assault on another person, and believe you’re in the right, then you should be prepared to face the consequences of your actions.

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UPDATE: Well, The interview is online now. Could I have said “Um” any more often? Well, at least they mentioned PYSIH at the beginning, so we can say I threw myself on my sword for the good of the website.

ORIGINAL POST

The other day, as I was checking my email, I found this interesting item.

—–Original Message—–
From: Jenny Churchill [mailto:**********@*******]
Sent: Thursday, March 11, 2010 12:44 PM
To: admin@pysih.com
Subject: : Television Interview

Jenny Churchill <**********@*******> wrote:
This message is for Max the Cat. I am a producer on The Alyona Show on RTTV. RT is an international television station and The Alyona Show is a political/current events commentary show. We want to have a discussion about the Jordan Brown case and whether or not he should be tried as an adult. We are located in Washington, DC and have studios in NYC and LA. If you are not able to go into any of these studios we could always do a Skype. Please let me know as soon as possible if you are interested.
Thanks,
Jenny

Needless to say, I was a bit skeptical, but after a couple of exchanges, I verified that this was for real, and for some ungodly reason these people were interested in my opinion on Jordan Brown.

Go figure, right?

The RT network is an English speaking cable news station that broadcasts mostly in Europe and Russia. I have no idea what the viewership of this network is.

The end result is at around 6:45 Eastern US time (GMT -5) this evening, I will be interviewed on the The Alyona Show. If you’re interested in seeing your fearless leader fall flat on his face, you can watch it live, as it happens, in streaming video by clicking here.

Seriously though guys, I could use all the moral support I can get. I tried to tell the producer I’m just a regular guy with no particular skills – hell, I don’t even have a college education – but they still want me, even after they talked to me this afternoon during the test of my Skype setup.

Look out Bill O’Reilly, you’re next! Then it’s Kieth Oberman…Mulch, you can come along for that one buddy.

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A Clockwork Orange

It’s a stinking world because there’s no law and order anymore! It’s a stinking world because it lets the young get on to the old, like you done. Oh, it’s no world for an old man any longer. What sort of a world is it at all? Men on the moon, and men spinning around the earth, and there’s not no attention paid to earthly law and order no more.

For anyone who has either seen the movie or read the 1962 novel by Anthony Burgess, A Clockwork Orange is an experience not soon forgotten.

Alex, our humble friend and narrator, would be comfortable with the situation in the UK today. I submit exhibit A into evidence.

Two teenage boys break into the beer cellar of a restaurant in the UK. The owner, Sal Miah, who has run the restaurant for 14 years, catches them in the act. They run, he chases them, grabs them and brings them back to the restaurant to wait for the cops that he had his staff call for.

While they’re all waiting for the cops to show up to make everything better, the teenagers’ friends are howling for their cohorts to be released. The gang outside starts to kick in the door to the restaurant, so Mr. Miah locked the door to the restaurant to protect his patrons and went outside to try to stop the damage to his property. Mr. Miah pushes several of the teenagers away from his windows.

The police show up. Mr. Miah tries to explain what happened. The gang claims that Mr. Miah punched several of them.

The police arrest Mr. Miah.

The married father-of-five spent five hours in a police cell and had his DNA, fingerprints and police mugshot taken.

As officers put him in the back of a patrol car, he said the laughing yobs hurled abuse and mocked him with shouts of ‘You’re nicked’. Mr Miah, who has no previous convictions, said: ‘I could not believe it.

Frankly, I can’t believe it either. The whole thing seems like a scenario that some Texans would solve nicely. Maybe we can send a few over there to show the UK how it’s done.

There are a number of questions that people are asking. Good questions. Questions like, “If the UK has so many cameras focused on the streets, can’t they just look at the cameras to see what happened?” Questions like, “Why don’t the local cops know who the local troublemakers are and who the people who are just trying to make a business work are?”

In my eyes the only question is – how far will civilized Western society go before we decide to push back against the elements that seem to enjoy running amok?

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Game shows are a dangerous venue. But sometimes, to find the sickest minds, you look to the contestant, not the host. Case in point: Rodney Alcala.

Alcala was a contestant on the Dating Game (Bachelor number one, to be exact) back in 1978. Alcala actually won, but sadly the bachelorette refused the date. Smartest move in game show history.

“My name is Rodney. I like kids, sharp objects, and hurting people mercilessly. I also enjoy long walks on the beach and my pet cat. Oh, and I’m a photographer.”

Back in the 70’s, there must not have been background checks for game show applications. Ten years prior to the show, in 1968, Alcala had raped and almost killed an 8-year old girl.

Rodney had pulled his car up to the sidewalk when the little girl was walking to school and asked if she wanted a ride. She refused: “I’m not supposed to ride with strangers”. Alcala persisted: “It’s okay, I know your family”. Naïve child takes the bait.

Rodney Alcala took the 8-year-old back to his house, raped her, and almost beat her to death with a lead pipe. Luckily, a police officer noticed the scene and followed Alcala to his house.The officer  broke the door down and found them both naked, Alcala standing on the opposite side of the room and the girl surrounded by blood with a pipe next to her limp form.

She survived, but barely. Like the victim in the Campbell case, every time she looks in the mirror, she surely shows physical memories of the events that took place on that day.

Alcala spent some time in jail, but eventually got out. They almost always do. Between the release and several years after showing, Rodney Alcala was responsible for the death of at least five others.

Jed Mills, Bachelor number two, was stated as saying that Alcala appeared “extremely creepy”, and Alcala himself was quoted as whispering to the bachelorette “We’re going to have a great time together, Cheryl”.

She rightfully refused, as everyone partaking in the show that day sensed something wrong with this man. Odds are, that rejection experience threw the unstable Alcala over the edge, and he snapped. More people died.

Two of the victim’s bodies were posed nude after their deaths and photographed (Alcala was a professional photographer). Several victims were strangled and resuscitated to prolong their pain. One victim was even hacked with a claw hammer.

Eventually, Alcala was found and apprehended. In February of this year. Yes, thirty years later. He’s awaiting sentencing for several counts of first degree murder, as well as a nice collection of several other charges stemming from the 1968 rape and several other incidents. Alcala is facing the possibility of the death penalty for his crimes.

This is Alcala’s third time facing the court for the death of one of his victims, a 12-year old girl. The other two times, the case was overturned on the appeal. And what about the 8-year old Alcala raped and almost murdered?

Rodney formally apologized during the court proceedings, over 40 years after the crime took place. “I sincerely regret the harm I caused you and I apologize for my despicable behavior,” Alcala said to the victim during his cross examination after she testified. Without emotion, without regret, Alcala recited the words as if he had been told exactly what to say.

Anyone know where Dexter Morgan can be found?
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Keith Alan Campbell is the atypical countryman. No mullet on his shiny, bald head, over 50 percent of his teeth remaining in his face, and the reflection of fear in his glasses as he carefully carves with his knife. Slice, slice.

Keith Alan Campbell is 41 years old. He lived in a small mobile home in Hickory, North Carolina. And now he’s one of those heart-pounding yellow dots that pop up when you search for sexual predators on Family Watchdog. Why is this, you may ask? The answer can be found around 11:30 Monday night in the Campbell household. But here’s some back-story:

Somehow, some way, this Pillsbury-esque demon managed to wrangle a woman away from the redneck society and claim her as his own. Her name? Nobody knows but Keith himself.

Campbell has spent the majority of his walking hours and a few sleeping that Monday morning drowning his countless sorrows with alcohol, natures mind-number. The reminiscence must have caused Keith to snap at some point that night, as reports from this anonymous victim show that he began to argue with her.

What was the argument about? What terrible past event caused the switch in Campbell’s small reasoning cortex to turn off? The world may never know, but reports suggest that it had something to do with an ex-boyfriend of the aggressed.

The arguments slowly escalated, as most in Hickory typically do, and eventually crossed the line into what some call the “rope stage”. In the rope stage, the most powerful and usually least attractive of the two opposing forces manages to procure some form of rope. Yet, as Isaac Newton stated several hundred years ago: “for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction”.

In this case, Campbell got the long end of the rope, and his significant other received the short end of the stick, and found herself bound together at the wrists, unable to move her arms. It is at this point when bad things begin to happen, and this case was no different in the Campbell household.

The warrant for Keith Alan Campbell’s arrest states that he “grabbed the victim out of the chair in which she was sitting, pushed her onto the kitchen counter, and struck her face with his fist”.

Did she deserve to be punched square in the face? Most would typically answer ‘no’, as abuse in any form is morally wrong from most any standpoint in all cultures. Did she deserve to be punched in the face while bound at the wrists and bent painfully over a kitchen counter? Most definitely not. And did this unidentified victim deserve what happened next? Hell no.

Campbell, a modern day William Shakespeare of the spoken word, is quoted as stating the following: “You’re mine. You’re not going anywhere. I’ll kill you before you go back … I own you.”

Fun fact: Some residents of North Carolina and the southeast in general are unaware of the abolition of slavery, which occurred in the mid-to-late 1800’s, and, as a result, still consider some individuals to be “slaves” in their own respect. The more you know!

Campbell wracked his brain for a proper description of the situation as he flipped his victim over and pushed up her shirt, simultaneously grabbing a rusty, dirty kitchen knife from the murky water of the nearby sink. “MINE”, came the brain blast, and the single word was carved with utmost precision into the woman’s stomach. Crude and rude human branding, the newest science to come out of Hickory.

Bleeding and screaming, the woman expected the end to come, but instead found herself blacking out, waking up mid-rape to find herself in some of the most excruciating pain imaginable.

Keith Alan Campbell proceeded to brutally rape the woman, and subsequently passed out. The victim took the opportunity to wriggle free of her restraints, driving herself to the hospital, and calling the police when the hospital attendants found the wounds received from “falling down the stairs” a bit more intentional, and the truth came out.

When Campbell became fully aware of his surroundings, he found himself in a prison cell, facing charges of kidnapping, assault, and first degree rape. He faces several years in jail and fines galore. The victim will never be able to look at her stomach in the mirror again, without the painful, stabbing reminder of the events which occurred on Monday, March 8th, 2010.
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A Tucson man accused of starving his newborn baby to death was acquitted of first-degree murder Thursday and was convicted of reckless child abuse, a probation-eligible offense.

Scott Sullivan’s daughter, Kimberlie, was born on July 14, 2008, weighing 7 pounds, 12 ounces and died Aug. 30, 2008, weighing 5 pounds, 7 ounces.

Her mother, Terri Sullivan, 27, pleaded guilty to child abuse and first-degree murder and is now serving a life sentence with parole possible after 25 years.

The jury found that Sullivan’s wife was responsible for the child’s death.

Defense attorney Dan Cooper said he told jurors the evidence showed Scott Sullivan, 28, was oblivious to Kimberlie’s declining health because he was rarely home and when he was, he was exhausted.

Scott Sullivan was working two jobs much of the summer of 2008 and often had to walk 20 miles roundtrip to work because his vehicle was broken down, Cooper said.

Scott Sullivan counted on his wife to care for the baby and their three other children while he was working, Cooper said.

His client’s family testified Scott Sullivan was a shy, reserved man who was married to a bossy, domineering and forceful woman, Cooper said.

Terri Sullivan told a probation officer she was having an affair with an 18-year-old man that summer and smoking marijuana daily, court documents indicate.

On Aug. 30, 2008, Terri Sullivan called 911 saying she found Kimberlie in her swing and she wasn’t breathing. When paramedics arrived, they found Scott Sullivan performing cardiopulmonary resuscitation. They took over CPR but declared the emaciated baby dead a short time later.

The couple’s three other children now live with Scott Sullivan’s parents.

I’m not sure what to make of this verdict. At first I was understandably outraged that Scott Sullivan apparently got away with murder. I just could wrap my mind around a father not noticing that his newborn baby was wasting away.

But information I found out in this article an others have softened my position on Scott. Many facts came out in court, both during Scott’s trial and during Terri’s guilty plea, that were not available before.

Scott was a shy, reserved man who had married a domineering woman who made all the decisions about the family, including child rearing. He was working two full time jobs, and honestly didn’t see much of his little daughter. Whenever he did question his wife about Kimberlie’s appearance, his wife always told him everything was fine.

Plus Scott was hoofing it the whole time that Kimberlie was “alive”, walking 20 miles roundtrip to work because his POS automobile wasn’t running.

Terr Sullivan was also apparently having an affair with a much younger man. That could explain much of the neglect of baby Kimberlie. A newborn takes up most of a mother’s time. If there was a demand for her attention from a second source, like a lover, something had to give.

Anyway, I guess in this case I’m going to have to accept that the jury may have known better than I did (Shhh, don’t let it get around, or my reputation as an opinionated jerk will really suffer). There are times when I have to give a certain situation to fate and move on.

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In early 1991, Frank Snyder, nearing 30 years old, was a married college student majoring in sociology at the state university in Sacramento. By all outside appearances, he was a pretty nice compassionate guy too, volunteering as a suicide prevention hotline counselor.

Now enter Benjamin Carlson into the picture. In 1991, Mr. Carlson was 52 and recently separated from his own wife. He became a customer of the suicide prevention hotline, reaching out for help while struggling with depression and loneliness over the holidays.

In short order many of the volunteers at the center were refusing to accept calls from Carlson. Carlson would later deny most of the allegations testified by counselors in court. He was accused of obscenity, sexual harassment, and death threats. According to the service director, Carlson threatened to bomb her car and threatened her children. Carlson was calling the hotline 150 to 200 times a week.

But Frank Snyder was a nice, compassionate guy and decided that he would accept the calls nobody else would take and that he would try talk to Carlson. Snyder took it upon himself to ignore the hotline’s rules and decided to meet and befriend Carlson in person.

Snyder and Carlson quickly became buddies, visiting each others homes and fishing together. Snyder even gave Carlson a puppy. They even scooped up the puppy one night and all three partied together at a topless bar.

But the friendship became a struggle for Snyder. His grades were suffering, his relationship with his wife was at odds, and while helping Carlson through alcohol withdrawal, he himself began to drink more. The hotline center also found out about Snyder’s breaking policy and suspended his participation for three months. According to Snyder, Carlson was unwilling to end the friendship with his only friend when the suggestion was brought up.

On the evening of February 12, Snyder called Carlson and told him he wanted to come over to his house on Whitecliff Way in Sacramento to return some camping equipment he had borrowed. Carlson was not in the mood for a visit and told Snyder to leave the equipment on the front porch. Then Carlson made one of his routine calls to the suicide hotline…

It was past 11 in the evening when Carlson answered the knock at the door. Snyder and another man pushed their way into the house and Snyder slugged Carlson in the face informing him he was going to shut him up for good.

Snyder’s accomplice removed a blade from a snake bite kit he was carrying as the two men hauled Carlson into the bathroom. After slashing Carlson’s wrists with the small blade, the men stood over him waiting for him to bleed to death – all while Snyder held the puppy in his arms to keep it away from the blood.

Once Carlson was dead, the two accomplices were in the living room wiping away fingerprints when the phone rang. Carlson managed to answer it and discovered that the caller was a volunteer from the suicide hotline checking back with him after his earlier call.

“Frank’s here !! He’s cutting me, call 911!!”, Carlson begged to Cheryl who could recognize Snyder’s alarmed voice in the background before the line went dead. The accomplice slit Carlson’s throat and, believing Carlson was fatally wounded, they fled the house.

But Ben Carlson was not dead.

Responding paramedics rushed Benjamin Carlson to the hospital while police went out and had a little chat with Snyder at his home.

Homicide investigators were actually on their way to interview Snyder when, in less than twenty minutes after they were called, all hell broke loose and the sheriff’s department – already stretched thin by a gasoline tanker explosion in a residential area – found themselves responding to a triple homicide at a Quik Stop committed by Eric Royce Leonard (featured here on PYSIH.com).

Snyder’s arrest for attempted murder would be placed on hold for six weeks as the homicide division exhausted itself working nine homicide cases. In the meantime, Carlson – badly stitched and scarred from the wounds on his neck and wrists – would lose his home and job. Even after Snyder’s arrest, he would remain in fear of his life from Snyder’s unknown accomplice who had slit his throat.

Frank Snyder eventually confessed his attempted homicide to detectives. Frank called Carlson a loser who was too afraid to take his own life – so Frank decided to take things into his own hands. Snyder never gave up his accomplice, who to this day remains at large. Frank’s claim was that the man was a “friend of a friend” named “John” who was homeless and living in a car near the state capital.

A jury rejected Frank Snyder’s insanity defense and Snyder received a life sentence for attempted murder with torture.

He would have been eligible for parole in 2001.

In the early summer of 1994, the former suicide prevention counselor hung himself with an electrical cord while serving time at the state prison in Vacaville.
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