The Cult of the Disgraced

by Diane Dimond

It is an odd thing we do here in America. People who get wrapped up in scandal often become elevated to celebrity status.

You know the type of people I’m talking about – those who are caught up in sex or drug scandals, criminal suspects, or some other type of social misfit who’s every move is followed by reporters. Cameras are there as they hustle in to court, show up for their community service or just try to dodge embarrassing questions about their problematic behavior.

These folks become famous for being infamous.

Think Kato Kaelin whose dodgy testimony at the murder trial of O.J. Simpson got him branded as “hostile” to the prosecution. Monica Lewinsky, the White House intern who engaged in sexual relations with President Clinton. Florida murder defendant Casey Anthony acquitted of murdering her 2½ year old daughter. And, now the former Governor of Illinois, Rod Blagojevich who has admitted that he was, indeed, guilty of corruption after denying it for years.

I call them the Cult of the Disgraced and the Misplaced – a cult that attracts media honchos who are eager to exploit scandal for ratings. Hardly anyone in the cult seems to be out of bounds.

After his 15 minutes of fame at the Simpson trial the mop-haired Kaelin got a radio show and appeared on several TV programs. Monica Lewinsky was chased by all the major networks, newspapers and magazines for her first exclusive description of illicit sex in the White House. (ABC’s Barbara Walters won that race snagging what turned out to be the highest rated news broadcast ever.) NBC vigorously pursued Casey Anthony and tried to fashion a book deal for her in exchange for her first TV interview. And, Blagojevich? Well, he fit right into this cult and eagerly took the bait when TV producers came to call.

Three years ago when federal prosecutors revealed they had recordings of the Governor (nicknamed: Blago) arrogantly attempting to sell the U.S. Senate seat vacated by Barack Obama, Blagojevich came out swinging. He vehemently denied asking for money in exchange for his appointment to the seat. He also denied that he lied to the FBI and had shaken down constituents for campaign contributions. He called it all a political conspiracy and then instead of hunkering down for the fight of his life Blago took meetings with top TV bigwigs.

Not even Blagojevich’s impeachment by the Illinois State Legislature in January 2009 slowed down the offers. NBC was knocking on the door for Blago to star in the “reality” show I’m a Celebrity … Get Me Out of Here!

In a petition to the court in the spring of 2009 the disgraced governor, pleading poverty, asked the judge for permission to travel to Costa Rica for the filming. The request was denied. Ultimately, his wife, Patti, took the job and was seen on one episode eating a dead tarantula.

Humiliation heaped upon humiliation, I’d say.

But watching his wife forced to ingest insects to pay their bills didn’t seem to give Blago pause. After hosting a radio talk show he went on to make a deal to appear on The Celebrity Apprentice hosted by Donald Trump. More recently he was hired to be the face of Wonderful Pistachios which admitted they were looking “for some buzz” to attract people to their nuts. There’s a joke in there somewhere.

But this celebration and rewarding of the scandalous baffles me. Has the concept of shame ceased to exist in America? If I was criminally indicted or caught up in a disgraceful episode playing out publicly I think I’d hibernate until it passed. Although, I suppose the lure of the money and the idea that sins can be erased if one is seen on TV is too much temptation for some.

The job of media executives is to get ratings and apparently these kinds of shows – highlighting these kinds of people—attract viewers. Why? I’m at a loss to explain except maybe we watch the notorious to make sure we are nothing like them. Maybe we want to see them be shamed on some level.

When Rod Blagojevich appeared in court earlier this month for sentencing (he was found guilty of 17 corruption charges) he suddenly dropped his past denials and admitted his criminal behavior.

“I caused it all,” he said to the judge. “I was the governor and I should have known better. I am just incredibly sorry.” He was then sentenced to 14 years in prison. Blagojevich’s admission laid bare the phoniness of those who rationalized giving him a shot at the public airwaves by saying, “Well, he hasn’t been convicted of anything…”

We had all heard his voice on that recording made years earlier blatantly trying to trade his public position for personal gain. We knew the real story from the get-go.

Blago must serve almost a dozen years before becoming eligible for parole. Let’s hope by then we’ve all come to our senses and decide that TV programs featuring disturbed, addicted or criminal players are a simply not acceptable. Maybe by then TV executives will stop rewarding the least deserving among us.

Are Cadaver Dogs saying You're Lying?

by Pat Brown

Funny thing about those cadaver dogs; they haven't got a bone to pick with the person being investigated, no interest in closing a case or in railroading anyone. They just do what they have been trained to do. They may not be perfect in that they miss hitting on a spot, but they don't hit on spots for no reason. They are trained to locate where dead bodies of humans have been, not live human beings, not dirty diapers, not on a package of meat, nor a hundred other unseen types of biological items. There is only one thing that trips them up; the body of a decomposing pig (because of the similarity it has to a human body). Unless you can prove you had a dead hog lying about in you living room or in your car, the hit a cadaver dog makes is going to be on human remains. Actually, I am the one of very few people who could actually have a cadaver dog hit in my house for that very reason since my beloved potbelly pig, Gwendolyn (see the video) did indeed expire on my living room floor; however, most people can't make that claim.

Gerry and Kate McCann, parents of the missing child, Madeleine McCann, dismiss the fact that Eddie, the cadaver dog, hit in their vacation apartment and in their rental car in 2007 (but not in any of their friends' vacation apartments nor early suspect Robert Murat's house or property) as meaningless because cadaver dogs are "rubbish." In that same year, a cadaver dog also alerted to the smell of death in Adrian Prout's UK home after his wife, Kate, vanished. Although he claimed he was innocent and her body had not been found, Prout was convicted. After having a fan club that protested steadily that Prout was railroaded, Prout confessed and indicated the area where the body was buried; then more cadaver dogs helped police in the search and Kate's body was found on his farm.

Next we have cadaver dogs hitting in the case of missing baby, Lisa Irwin, who supposedly was abducted in the middle of the night while her intoxicated mother slept. They hit on one spot in the Kansas City home of the parents, Deborah Bradley and Jeremy Irwin, right on the floor next to the bed in the master bedroom. Deborah, the mother, claims she changed diapers there, but if the dogs were hitting on dirty diapers in the home, I would gather they would hit in more places than that one spot.

Now, cadaver dogs have hit again in a missing child case. Two-year-old Bianca Jones went missing in Detroit on December 2. Her father, D'Andre Lane, who was babysitting her at time, claimed on the day he was to return the child to her mother's home, he was carjacked at 10 in the morning by two men with guns. Now, his story stinks worse than a decomposing body. First of all, the "carjackers" choose him (a streetwise felon) driving a 1994 Mercury Marquis (not exactly a hot car from the most carjacked automobiles list). Daddy, seeing two thugs are about to drive off with his little girl puts up no resistance. Instead he calls 911 and the police go searching for the car.

Oddly, it is found just six blocks away (and one block from Binika Jones' house, the mother of Bianca), with no child in it. So, let me get this straight. These two carjackers went to the trouble of ousting D'Andre Lane from a car with a toddler in the car seat, don't take the car somewhere and strip it, don't sell it, don't use it for committing robberies (a common use of a carjacked vehicle) and don't take it for a joyride. They drive just six blocks and dump it. Maybe they didn't realize there was a child in it and, therefore abandoned the car? Maybe, but then why would they take the child? The story blows. And so did Dre's attempt to pass the polygraph. Not only that, but two witnesses saw the action: one saw D'Andre driving alone down the street and the other, standing by a window overlooking the alley, saw Lane pull the vehicle into it and walk away. No baby seen with him or in the car.

D'Andre Lane is swearing up and down he didn't have anything to do with his daughter going missing, but everything about his story has been pretty much been annihilated by the circumstances and witnesses. The cadaver dogs hitting in his apartment and in his car pretty much puts a bow on his story as being a crock.

D'Andre Lane is innocent until proven guilty in a court of law, but he isn't a suspect for nothing. In the words of Gerry McCann, "Ask the dogs."

(left: cadaver dog hits behind sofa in the McCann's Praia da Luz, Portugal vacation rental apartment. From police files.)

_______________________________________________

My ebook, Profile of the Disappearance of Madeleine McCann, removed from Amazon following threat of legal action by Carter-Ruck on behalf of Gerry and Kate McCann, can still be found online at Barnes and Noble and Smashwords. Keep posted for news of my upcoming legal action with attorney Anne Bremner against the McCanns for tortuous interference with business and libel.

Caveat Emptor: If Walls Could Talk

by Donna Pendergast


Stigmatized property is property which buyers or tenants may shun for reasons that are unrelated to its physical condition or features. Homes which have been the sites of murders, suicide or which have been reportedly inhabited by ghosts all qualify as stigmatized properties. It is a psychological taint rather than a taint associated with the physical condition of a property. The National Association of Realtors defines stigmatized property as property that has been "psychologically impacted by an event which occurred or was suspected to have occurred on the property such event being one that has no physical impact of any kind."

The Amityville