The press stories about Ted stressed his apparent normalcy, his intellect, his attractiveness, his Republicanism. They didn’t report he was a compulsive nail biter and nose picker, that he was no genius (IQ: 124) that he was at best a fair student in college and a failure in law school, that he was poorly read, that he frequently mispronounced words and that he stuttered when nervous and had acquired only a surface sophistication. Against a backdrop of mass insane homicide, Ted instead emerged as a variety of criminal genius, a nearly fictive character (once again like an actor) who wasn’t stereotypically a loner or a loser because he didn’t look like one and so must be something else: Evil Incarnate, the Devil’s issue.

Well, I’m not stupid. But I’m far from a genius, too. People use the “terribly bright, terribly handsome” thing as part of the image process. I’m not exceptionally handsome. I’m not exceptionally bright. I may not even be bright by some people’s definition…or handsome, for that matter. But it’s part of creating the myth of Ted Bundy- which is separate and distinct from my reality.

Michaud, Stephen G., and Hugh Aynesworth. The Only Living Witness. New York: Linden / Simon & Schuster, 1983. Print.