Another tragic twist in the Tenerife beheading story: Before the attack, Deyan Valentinov Deyanov asked a store owner for a large knife because, he said, “I’m going to kill someone.” But the shopkeeper didn’t report the threat to police. Deyanov was caught on the store’s security camera gesturing with his arms to show what size knife he wanted. He even ran his finger across his throat to demonstrate his plans, the Telegraph reports.
The store owner threw him out, but within half an hour, Deyanov had followed Jennifer Mills-Westley into another store, grabbed a knife off the shelf, and decapitated her in an attack involving at least 14 blows of the knife. — Newser
It took him 14 hacks? Maybe he was demented, but he was right about one thing — he could have used a bigger knife.
This was a pretty damn gruesome crime, even by Third World or terrorist standards, and from all accounts this action had nothing to do with politics, culture, or even narcotics. This was just some nutcase freaking out over ordinary, everyday activities. His girlfriend dumped him. His mom dressed him funny and his tattoos itched. He don’t like Mondays.
One friend told the media that Deyanov had a Predator fetish — you remember, that fine Arnold Schwarzenegger film featuring two future governors of the United States (extra credit: name the other one) and considerable decapitory gore. Speculation is he patterned this maneuver after the movie.
No, Decapitory Gore was not the other governor. You’re thinking of Al, the senator, VP, and total failure as a presidential candidate. He wasn’t decapitated, he was castrated. Remember Tipper? He he he.
Another bizarre factor concerns Tenerife itself, which is a popular tourist destination not known for crime and hostilities. The victim, a 64 year old British grand mum, had been a regular visitor for years. Like the blind girl in the porn film, she never saw it comin’. Nobody did.
Which in these paranoid times is the take-away message. Urban people know never to let their guard down. Rural folks understand that while nature is their friend, it’s not to be relied on, either. You’re never alone when you’re schizophrenic, and even if you’re paranoid that doesn’t mean they’re not actually after you. Trust but verify. And finally, don’t eat the yellow snow (not applicable to South Florida).
As the story unfolds and we get more details about the perp and the background, expect the gun lobby to weigh in, pointing out that it was a knife not a firearm, but if granny or some bystanders had been armed, maybe she’s be alive today. Also anticipate that elected dolts climbing up on their back legs to demand restrictions on the commercial display of potentially dangerous objects like kitchen knives, garden tools, and those things old people use in supermarkets to crush other shoppers’ ankles. (I hate that.) All sorts of overreaction and silliness will precede the inevitable bored silence that will sadly conclude the whole sordid business as life goes on unchanged (except for Granny).
See you on the beach. Hey — don’t worry about sharks.