History of Old Time

Dark History has an entrancing note to inspire minds, visiting the past. Pages are open with its dark tunnels, winding back roads, and dark alleyways, can only inspire the most chilling effects for any story, especially poor stories. Stories that may contain a little of poverty, and a little of horror. It’s much of the past that we see the conditions of today. And with it, I have a tendency to read, research books on things that happened long ago, especially when it concerns poverty, the dark poverty, bring it back in today’s realm, calmly, in one piece—to you; so you can understand clearly of what has partaken, if allowed. Allowed to be frightened, cautious with every step, we discover. In its most natural-- mixed with horror; such the case of Jack the Ripper, the great master of deception, and high intrigue. He had the ability of being there and not ... There he escapes through the heavy thick fog which was oh, so easy...Tempting not to miss out on that , right?
But manageable to say the least.
Jack the Ripper.



The trail thickens and night is quiet. There is no one out here, in the dusty midnight, but you and I and ...him. Leather Apron is busy getting his basic need on: the killing phase of his latest victim.
On a foggy street corner a woman lays dying, choking on her own blood, twisted in its most gruesome form, her body sprawled, as her life is spilling away...Tsk, there is no help for her. The bobby is a corner walk away, whistling to a tune enchanting his mind, taking him away from his normal duty while the gurgle of death seeps away. The open flesh whistles the wind from the gash from her throat. A ragged whistle and there a deep fog appears. And Dark Jack escapes into the unknown.
However, the daunting realization that a mad man is loose—on the streets with the wretched poor, the nobody’s, even the homeless.
It was a known fact, during Jack the Ripper hay day of ridiculous crime and murder, even on women, homeless women were subjected to sleep outdoors during that horrific time in history; innocent wasn’t the factor: any woman was vulnerable underneath his maniacal madness, however, his choice were women of the streets; Toothless June, hot Penny Annie, names to remember a face and the reason why of such, women who were thrown a bone once in a while...they couldn’t help it. They took whatever they could get.
Death waited.
A marked curse thwarted the struggle of survival for the small community in the poorest section of England.
Rage grew for a society, at its wits end, to find out who really was Jack the Ripper.
Anxiety overwhelmed those who had no home to ask, who was sleeping on the streets, afraid of a man neither of a home. No one knew of his place of residence. No one could identify his face, only speculation. How he’s described, splotchy. In a sense, with the rage in the streets, among men and women, and how Homeless women were thrown out with this careless murderer. I can see why God gave England a Queen, instead of a King, I guess to show these men you don't do that to women and call yourselves men, when you don’t even have the finger to capture this guy, or, know of his whereabouts.



I ask, was Jack the Ripper Homeless?
Noise of some news said he could be a sailor. On the boundless water you need not an address. You can sail anywhere and not have any regrets, for the sea can wash away any guilty conscious, or any sign of blood...
Blood on hands, blood on clothes; blood on the conscious, could have been a sacrificial rite. A way of releasing pressure, and of course, escape from the law.
Jack the Ripper, with a conscious?
Why, local shelters were sponsored by church organizations, asking the poor unfortunates to change their ways and have the mercy of the Lord to shed a pittance of light upon them. And yes, in letters by Jack the Ripper contains some line of justification for his acts of so-called righteous killings.
Today, ministries still shed their light.
Staying in one location would not suffice him, he would be caught immediately and that was his knack. Moving from one location to the next...constantly. A transient doesn’t stay in one place: they keep moving. Unsettled.
Secret chambers could be anywhere once his feet were on dry ground. Bringing merchandise from his trips, the right stuff to lure the women in, and hook them with, and what woman would turn him down, unless they were desperate?
Therefore, Jack the Ripper, knew his prey. He knew the kind of woman that would fall for it: every time.
You can be rich and know a poor person once you look at them, but you can really know someone when you experience their life. Walk in their shoes. Why were there Homeless? Why were there poor people? How do they act? How do they eat and so on? You’ve got to know someone. If you have an enemy, you’ve got to know them? Their ways, their whereabouts...Revenge is seedy. It comes with heart.
And as black as his heart was, that’s what he showed them: to the street women, to London’s Scotland Yard. Whoever listened, he captured his audience, even without death.

Frightening, huh?

Here, at Blogger, I will show you the true grittiness of Horror with Poverty. So stay tuned for more . Good evening, ladies and gentlemen and have a wonderful night.