The Life of an Assassin Never Rebounds After They’ve Accomplished Their Deadly Task

There is no single way to be an assassin. A murderer. Some are highly trained professionals employed by the state or a powerful commercial interest, but just as likely the person with malicious intent in their minds, is a sour and angry individual with a political or culturally based grudge, who is seeking an immediate adjustment in how the universe works.

– In their eyes, anyway.

Then lastly is the solitary, lone wolf type who is often a deeply disturbed, irrational malcontent who is entirely capable of ending the life of an innocent person that they alone have decided no longer has the right to exist in this world.

These types of people are extremely dangerous, if only because they can be just about anyone; as in a simple innocuous nobody. The type of person people walk past every day without taking notice. The friendless, outcast lone wolf often falls off the deep end of the pier and starts seeking vengeance against a world where they just don’t fit in.

It doesn’t take a deep dive into history to find one of the more egregious and memorable assassinations in all of human history. “Et tu Brute,” or something similar to that aggrandized phrase popularized by William Shakespeare in a well-known play, was allegedly murmured by none other than Julius Ceasar himself, as his Senate colleagues plunged sharp pugios [daggers] into his torso on March 12^th, 44 BC.

The Ides of March.

The historically important death of one of the Roman Empire’s most acclaimed leaders, of course, was not the work of one deranged individual. Julius Ceasar’s untimely demise is an example of how the malevolent actions of evil schemers who have a desire to kill, can have a significant cultural impact that reaches all the way from antiquity and into the modern era.

There is a murder or two that changed history in the modern era, as it were. Gavrilo Princip is the very definition of a lone wolf assassin. Although it is well-established that Princip had connections to radical extremist groups. Princip was an impoverished 19-year-old Bosnian Serb, a young person with no status in life, who was resentful towards the powerful imperialist groups he imagined were dominating his homeland.

Murder was on his mind.

Princip’s hateful act of brandishing a Browning pistol to murder – in public – the Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria and his wife Sofie, created a diplomatic crisis in Eastern Europe that led to the first of the two World Wars.

A conflict that consumed the lives of an estimated 22,000,000 human beings. The deaths are an estimated tab of both military and civilian deaths related to the hostilities.

If not for the actions of this one insignificant little man who did not fit in, the war may not have happened at all. Or at the very least, certainly not in the manner that it did, and that is a horrifying thought indeed.

What did Gavrilo Princip profit from the murder that is forever attached to his name?

Nothing at all.

Princip was only 19 years old at the time of the assignation of the Archduke, thus he was too young to face execution under Austro-Hungarian law. He received only a twenty-year prison sentence.

Preposterous at face value, the light sentence was no reprieve at all. Princip was confined in a brutal prison town known as Theresienstadt or the Terezin Fortress. The murderer was housed separately from other inmates in solitary confinement. The conditions of his incarceration were typical of a dire prison-type environment. Gravilo Princip, already a slight, weak man, eventually contracted the bone tuberculosis that would lead to the amputation of his right arm.

What followed was a slow painful death after only four years of confinement. The final years of the crazed, radical assassin of Archduke Franz Ferdinand were a literal hell on Earth, and it was exactly what he deserved.

Looking backward for a moment, President Abraham Lincoln was assassinated at Ford’s Theatre in Washington DC, by a white man with a deep hatred of the Black race and the Union North.

The Confederate sympathizer and white supremacist, John Wilkes Booth.

After the shooting death of Abraham Lincoln, in the days that followed, the notoriously deranged Booth, was later hunted down near Port Royal, Virginia and mortally wounded by a Union sergeant.

The single bullet that ended Booth’s time on the run, severed his spine, leading to total paralysis from the neck down. He died later of his wound on the front porch of a house at Garrett Farm, seventy miles south of Washington, DC. Thus was the ignoble, inglorious end of the life of a vile, degenerate and racist man who was responsible for the murder of the nation’s 16^th Chief Executive.

Despite the Hollywood portrayals of assassins as handsome, yet savage men whose tools of death often include intricate well-made rifles with polished telescopic sights, or short gunmetal black machine pistols equipped with silencers, in the real world of flesh and bone, what often awaits these killers is an uncomfortable life on the run.

The identities of hired guns are often quickly established, and many are already known by law enforcement beforehand. There are no real secrets in the world of blood and death that paid killers inhabit. The information is out there to be found. All it takes is a tireless effort by investigators to string together unrelated facts and home in on the perpetrator.

Despite the contrast between the obvious fiction of Tinseltown style and glamour, and the certainty – in the real world - of an endless manhunt that might span both continents and oceans. What is the worth of an assassin’s unbound lifestyle for the men and the women who pursuit such a dubious art?

 It’s as if an assassination attempt, successful or not, is the final spasm of a sad, purposeless life where an unremarkable or anonymous ending is simply not possible. Lee Harvey Oswald, the twice court-martialed ex-marine who was the murderer of President John F. Kennedy didn’t even make it safely out of the police headquarters building where he was being detained by authorities.

He was terminated on the spot, by a brutal gut shot from the gun of sleazy Dallas nightclub owner Jack Ruby. A man well-known to local law enforcement in that city and thus was allowed easy access to the building where Kennedy’s murderer was being held.

Jack Ruby was not considered a threat to anyone.

 Ooops.

James Earl Ray, Jr. used a hunting rifle to assassinate civil rights leader, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. He lived the last thirty years of his life in confinement behind bars.

A similar fate has befallen Sirhan Sirhan, the murderer of presidential candidate, Senator Robert F. Kennedy, Jr. [D-NY] A distinguished gentleman, and former Attorney General of the United States, and the brother of the previously assassinated John F. Kennedy.

The sixties were a nightmare of assignations of important political figures in the United States of America.

Sirhan Sirhan has been denied parole on seventeen different occasions. Remarkably, because of a curious quirk in the law, he was once deemed eligible for parole by a two personal panel after meeting eligibility criteria for release for federal prisoners. Sirhan’s potential release was denied by the Governor of California at that time, who would allow no such outrage to occur.

This creep will only see the outside of prison in a pine box, a white sheet, a rubberized tarp, or whatever it is that is used in modern times to temporarily house a body.

Does this seem like justice for a precious life taken?

The words parole denied stamped on a white sheet of paper?

No, it does not. But the desire for freedom that will never be granted even after decade, after decade of confinement, must be an excruciating torture all its own.

If there is a pattern here, it is firmly established. Even the crazed murderer of former Beatle and music superstar John Lennon, struck down on a street in Manhattan, New York in 1980, remains incarcerated.

He isn’t ever getting out either.

There are other egregious examples of celebrities unjustly taken from this world, but then the line blurs between what are true political or cultural-based assassinations, and the evil work of serial killers who commit murders for demented reasons. - That’s a totally different conversation.

Crime does not pay in the end, and neither does killing.

But once again, let’s turn to Hollywood fancy, and a view as to how assassins are often ridiculously glamourized in order to sell tickets or to perpetuate some elusive cultural myth that even the worst of murderers aren’t really all that bad.

On the silver screen a tall suave man handed a license to kill by the government can readily be given a reprieve and a chance to start over with a new identity, no matter how depraved his career was as a murder with a gun.

Here’s a typical scene…

At the end of the movie, tall suave guy is in his golden years. His blonde hair is speckled with an appropriate touch of gray. He’s pictured relaxing on the beach in a faraway, tropical land with a gorgeous, sun-tanned beauty at his side.

He’s wearing expensive sunglasses, sipping a cocktail, comfortable that he’s made his last, justifiable kill for the purposes of money or political agenda, and he’s at peace with the instability of his old life in the distant past.

His single purpose now is to adjust to a grand new style of living.

He’ll have money enough, a wonderful home in an exotic location, and a gorgeous and delectable island girl at his beck and call, perhaps even as his wife.

That’s not real at all.

The life of an assassin ends once he pulls that trigger. Because there is never any going back. There won’t be a new start in the tropics on the beach, under a blue sky, and with the smell of sand and surf in the air.

Forget the beautiful girl with a smile like warm sunshine. She won’t be there. Because when an assassin takes a life, he effectively ends his own.

It’s been a stretch since the President of the United States of America visited communist China and had the pleasure of being disrespected to his face, and in some respects treated like an imbecile. The unfortunate fact is that nothing much has changed since those days in early May. The Iran War is still going on, and at this point, whether or not the nation’s 47th Chief Executive understands at all, what a Thucydides Trap is, the country is suffering under his leadership. Insulting his own press corp, holding idiotic fight matches on the lawn of the White House or slapping his name on every building in downtown Washington, DC is not what the country voted for in November of 2024.

The country needs a Commander and Chief, and right now. A man the entire nation can respect. That person isn’t the one in the Oval Office at the moment.

This is only a brief taste of what’s on the way from MADDOX NEWS in the weeks and months ahead. Be sure to spread the word from and family, alike. Your help in getting this publication to grow will be much appreciated.