S/M creates axe murderers

In the best case scenario, Karla Homolka ex Lynda Veronneau is naive and slightly thick. But I'm afraid the truth is probably that Veronneau is naive and slightly thick.

Last night's television appearance was memorable for how non-sensical Veronneau sounded.

The first possibility has Veronneau being truly dense without an ounce of self-awareness whatsoever. This convicted thief knows nothing of the world and has the emotional maturity of a 12-year-old.

Veronneau set herself up as the victim. Homolka manipulated her. Strung her along for a few months when she was already dating someone else. Lied. Etcetera. Uhm, welcome to bad relationships. This is shocking how?

Veronneau said she was disgusted that Homolka left her for a guy who killed his girlfriend. Yes, sickeningly, Veronneau was dumped for a murderer. Except that Veronneau was in love with Homolka for three years, who is a convicted... murderer.

I dunno.

Continuing with the what's-wrong-with-Homolka jag, Veronneau said the ex girlfriend's a menace to society because she sometimes reverts to infantilism. Because she's at times kinda weird. For Halloween one year Homolka suggested placing a fake body in a fake graveyard. It's too gross, Veronneau said, for a killer to suggest such a thing.

That's what Halloween is about, honey. Hello?

Homolka allegedly likes her sex spiced up with violence and even faked rape. It made Veronneau nauseous and causes her to believe Homolka is an evil person.

Really? Veronneau's never come across S/M in her whole life? Re-enacting rape scenes is so textbook -- a practice of (some of) those who've survived sexual abuse. Admittedly I'm merely a pop-culture-educated shrink, but I can't imagine what this has to do with murdering your baby sister in the family home.

If this is what passes for informed debate on the real concern about Homolka's potential for recidivism, we should all give up and go lock ourselves up in our houses.

Actually, now that I think about it a bit more, the sex-rape thing does relate. In the second version of naive and thick, we have someone who lies likes a rug and assumes no one will catch on, cuz Veronneau is soooo much smarter than all us stoopid dull normals. Veronneau thinks she can say anything and we'll lap it up. But there are limits: does a masochist torture and kill people? I'm just thinkin' of the definition of masochism, dontcha know.

So, Veronneau. What are we to do with you?

And what will the media do with you? At any other time, with any other story, Lynda Veronneau would be a freak in the mainstream. She was well treated on last night's talk show, relatively speaking. Some teasing, a couple of tough questions, but no vicious finger-pointing or outright nastiness. Yet Veronneau showed up in a dapper suit and tie, short hair, and said he preferred to be known as Dany. Publicly trashing Homolka rehabilitates even the most marginal.

After being called gay a few times, Dany eventually said: "I don't consider myself gay. I'm a guy in the body of woman." The breasts are going soon, he said. But getting a working penis makes for complicated and iffy surgery, and Dany Veronneau isn't sure about taking that step.

There may well be some social good to come of Dany's Homolka- book-slash-his-life-story . We're going to get a good mainstream dose of gender-switch. In the Sunday La Presse excerpt, we read how Dany and his girlfriend Julie get nabbed by the coppers in a stolen car after a nasty chase through downtown Montreal. Here's my quickie translation of the joual:

Dany realizes he's not the only one with the adrenaline pumping. The cop is hyper and pissed. "He's gonna fuck me up, I'm gonna get really worked over." There are times in life when you gotta play yer winning card. Dany yells out as loud as he can: "I'm a girl!"

The police officer grabs Dany by the collar, picks him up half way off the ground. Doesn't believe it: "You're a woman?"

Dany pulls his shoulders back, pushes his chest forward to show off the bumps. The police officer lets him drop to the ground, and Dany falls face down. "Guys, it's a fucking woman."

Hands are pulled back, cuffs slapped on -- not gently, but no one's hitting him. Dany realizes that for the first time ever, the 36Cs he despises have served him well.

End o' direct recitation. In newspaper headlines and photo captions and book title, Dany's referred to as Lynda. Someone -- publisher? editor? -- chose the female gender. Or maybe Veronneau just found some easy comfort in the birth name of his childhood.

The book comes out Wednesday. We shall see what we shall see.