Guest Post: The Jigsaw Killer

In celebration (or in memoriam) of Halloween, the Blogulator has received a cassette tape from its good friend Jigsaw.

The rest of the recording is obfuscated by the sounds of Jigsaw crunching on something that can only be hypothesized as red and delicious. We have transcribed the remainder. Oh yes. There will be blood.


For years now, you've all been regressing into metasociety, where your most intimate thoughts are founded in children's television and postmodern comedy. Every time you encounter a situation that may be unique, you devalue it, saying to yourself, "This could have been a plotline in that show about the friends in New York." Then you tell your friends about it, and they agree... only they think of the other show with the friends from New York. And you're both content to leave it at that, happy to know that your real-life experience in some way approaches fiction.

In the days before ubiquitous media and "culture"-soaked internet, most people were forced to consume a 300-page book if they wished to drop a meaningful reference into their day-to-day tête à tête. And in that 300 pages, it was only probable that additional insight into the human experience would be passed from author to reader - not through some one-line comment where Jesus beats a fish, but through chapter after chapter of relationship-driven dialogue and circumstance. Literature required investment on both ends, by the printers with their scarce pulp and the readers with their scarce, plague-shortened lives. Knowledge was a commodity in and of itself, and the only aphorism of value was one which actually revealed the tragedy of our cancerous society. Fear of this knowledge constructed giant bonfires of books meant to destroy more than the aside that "It tastes like burning."

Yet here we rest, with productions of almost any type inevitably containing some allusion to an alternate. If we fail to consume that which we are expected to, it is our loss; for more often than not the reference is contained entirely within itself. Pure story falls into the distance, as anyone interested in inclusion is burdened with the task of consuming the thousand and one tales leading up to the present. Simplicity is abandoned to unnecessary, unhealthy complication.

So here is the game: Through manipulation of the winds, I have managed to inject an air bubble into each of your bloodstreams. In the year between the releases of Saw V and Saw VI (Book of Shadows), you must emote an ethos of individuality capable of releasing your healing, bubble-popping toxins. The path to enlightenment is yours to forge, but I will warn you now that an ecotour to Panama led by a Buddhist Penn grad by no means qualifies. Media is not the only source of meta-devolution. People everywhere - spinning in the gym, chomping down on chips, kissing their sweethearts goodnight - are guilty of the same sin. And they will all suffer for it.

Is it really you who decided to lock lips with Bessie Mae? Or is it the hours of Disney tweenia that motivated your move? I am Jigsaw, so only I know.


The reason I am so harsh and misinterpreted as evil is because I want you to change, and I want you to survive. Saw VII (Glistening Ember) will completely redraw the boundaries of fiction and nonfiction, and you should be there to see it. Creating something so purely original is a rare event, made possible only through the torture of a soul shot down by cancer in the prime of his life. I lost everything I ever gained before I could inhabit my new persona. Here writes the masked product of true nature, and it towers above your fabrications. Humble it is not, but human it is.

Live. Enjoy the visceral struggle for survival, the impossible search for meaning and answers, the horrible actuality embodied in my devices. Be like me...

The Jigsaw Killer.

Jigsaw's fifth biopic opens today.

This entry was posted by DoktorPeace, on Friday, October 24, 2008. You can leave your response.