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sanasideup

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ya'll wanna read my essay? probably not, but have it anyway lol
tw: mentions of r@p3 and murd3r and b0mbs and racism and guns
(it's abt criminal profiling)

Most people have heard of Ted Bundy, the infamous serial killer who preyed on young women. What most people may not know, however, is that he was caught through a method called criminal profiling. Criminal profiling, also known as behavioral analysis, is a method where a criminal is analyzed using information about the specific crime committed to determine information that could aide in the capture of a criminal, such as employment status, type of job, family status and background, personal tics and preferences, and hobbies and formative experiences.

  Criminal profiling was first used by James Brussel in 1956. George Metesky, now known as the “mad bomber,” had been terrorizing New York City through a series of bombs he had made and set off throughout the city. Frustrated at their inability to catch the criminal, police approached Brussel and requested his help. Among other things, “Brussel insisted that, when arrested, the suspect would be wearing a double- breasted suit…[George Metesky] was wearing a…double-breasted suit when he was arrested.” Because of Brussel’s extreme accuracy in predicting such trivial details regarding Metesky, more and more people became interested in criminal profiling, including law enforcement and psychologists. It was Harvey Schlossberg, however, that began further developing the science of criminal profiling in the late 1960s and 70s. “What I would do,” he says, “is sit down and look through cases where the criminals had been arrested. I listed how old [the perpetrators] were, whether they were male or female, their level of education. Did they come from broken families? Did they have school behavioral problems? I listed as many factors as I could come up with, and then I added them up to see which were the most common.” Even now, Schlossberg, who is a psychologist, says that, “In some ways, [profiling] is really still as much an art as a science.”

However, in contrast to popular TV shows and movies such as Criminals Minds and The Silence of the Lambs, the job of criminal profiling is not at all glamorous. In fact, most profilers will never set foot on a crime scene. Rather, they carefully analyze reports given to them by law enforcement workers, such as detectives and police officers. In order to do their job, profilers must stick to the ABCs of profiling - antecedent, behavior, and consequence. Antecedent is the prompt, or the initial situation, leading to a behavior. In more simple language, the antecedent is the motivation for the crime, the why behind the action. Next up is behavior, or the action in response to the antecedent. This would be the actual crime. For example, when faced with the antecedent of being assaulted, the proceeding behavior could be murder. Finally, there is the consequence, or the reinforcement mechanism associated with the behavior. In other words, this is what the criminal does following the crime. Take the example of Ted Bundy, who was caught via the method of criminal profiling. Following his crimes, Bundy would often go “back to normal” by living as he would had he not brutally raped and murdered a young woman. Another example is Joseph Paul Franklin, also known as The Racist Killer, a white supremacist and serial killer who was caught thanks to criminal profiling. Franklin, a self proclaimed racist and Nazi, would travel the nation seeking out non-white victims, more specifically, African-Americans and Jewish-Americans, whom he would kill using a sniper rifle. It was how he reacted after his crimes, however, that allowed the FBI to create a detailed enough profile to catch him. He would flee the scene of his crimes and begin again in a new city using a new alias. He was also known to dye his hair in order to disguise himself. John Douglas used the previously gathered information to determine where Franklin would show up next. Finally, on October 28, 1980, he was caught and sentenced to death.

But contrary to popular belief, profiling, also known as behavioral analysis, is not just used to aid in capturing criminals. It is also used in autism research and addiction therapy. Other uses include hostage negotiation teams, advising negotiators on how to analyze and manipulate hostage takers based on their background and behaviors. Profilers also work directly with law enforcement officers thanks to the FBI’s Undercover Safeguard Unit by helping them cope with post-traumatic stress and other distressing duties of their jobs. This includes training them to work with victims of violent crimes, preparing them for trauma exposure, assisting them in dealing with disturbing crimes scenes and evidence, and training them to recognize when their fellow officers are in mental distress. Profiles can also be employed by major agencies, some of which include The Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms; The Department of Homeland Security; and state police and large metropolitan police agencies.

Though criminal profiling is still relatively new, it is highly helpful in tracking down and prosecuting criminals, as well as work in other, more legal areas of research, including, but not limited to, addiction therapy and autism research. The mixture of psychology and law enforcement is groundbreaking, and will only continue to grow as both an art and a science. As psychologist Stephen Band, chief of the FBI’s Behavioral Science Unit, said, “There is an incredible value added when applications of professional psychology enter into the mix of what we do.”
i got a 56/60. i forgot to include the links to my sources lol
 

sanasideup

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prompt: Imagine that you are a pizza delivery person. One night, you're taken to an address far outside of town. You call the manager to ask if you should deliver to a house that far. He acts strangely when you tell him the address. "Just deliver the pizza and hurry back," he says in a firm voice. When you arrive, you step out of the car and approach the front gate. What happens next?
Swallowing nervously, I take another step toward the ominous and intimidating gate in front of me. Mentally cursing my boss, I reach out and push the gate open; it shrieks and groans, as if to warn me of something. I briefly consider getting back in my car and going home. Pushing the thought away with a shake of my head, I step onto the front lawn. The sense of foreboding is growing within me, but I push it down like bile. It can't be that bad, right? I think to myself.

As I walk across the dark, rolling lawn, nothing seems to be out of the ordinary. Sure, the place is creepy, but nothing dramatically or obviously out of place. Feeling a little more confident, I stand up straighter and raise my chin. See, this isn't that bad, I tell myself. Everything is fine. Besides, by the time I get back, it'll almost be time for me to get off work.

Suddenly, a loud crack! rings through the air, disrupting the once quiet atmosphere. Immediately, my instincts kick in, sending me into a state of high alert. In fact, I nearly drop the pizza. I frantically glance around for the source of the noise, but my search is rendered fruitless. I cannot see a single thing that could have possibly been the source of that earth shattering sound. Much to my horror, when I look at the house again, all of its lights have gone out, including the porch light. I am now completely immersed in darkness, all alone, with my phone all the way back in the car. Panic sets into me suddenly and greatly.

A scream rips its way out of my throat and into the air; it sounds like a wild animal. Dropping the pizza, I bolt back across the lawn. Oops. I slip and fall, tumbling across several feet of the black lawn. Breathing heavily, I shove myself back up and take off again. Finally, heart racing, I reach the front gate. That's strange. The gate has been closed. I could've sworn I left it open. Nevertheless, I fling the gate back. "What the-"

The gate won't open. It's stuck, it's stuck, it's stuck. Eyes wide with panic, I wrench it back once more. This time the gate gives. I bolt through it. But where is my car? I parked right here, right in front of the gate. Squinting in front of me, I see another gate. I shriek. That wasn't there before. This isn't right. Fear coursing through my veins, I dash once more toward the gate. When I reach it, I tug it back. It gives. This time, I can see my car. I run toward my car. If I can just get to my phone. I call someone. I'm gonna be okay. I'll be okay. I'll-

My car is gone! I just saw it! Bracing myself for the worst, I look up and find my worst fear confirmed. There is yet another gate in the distance, exactly identical to the first two. I repeat this process for hours, but it's no use. I run through gate after gate, but they never end. I'm stuck here forever. Shaking my fists at the sky, I sink to my knees and sob. I have met my end.
 

sanasideup

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a science fiction story assignment i submitted 3ish months late lol. the ending is v rushed, so be warned
"Rahna! Rahna!" I whisper yell, leaning over my sleeping best friend.

"What is it, Mingmei?" she asks, looking at me with bleary eyes.

"Come on," I beckon her. "We've gotta go now. It's just before six, so we have two or so hours to try and kill the principal before classes start."

Rahna sits up quickly and throws back the blanket to reveal that she is already dressed. "Let's go," she whispers determinedly. "This is our one chance."

I nod in agreement as we sneak toward the door. Our school, Sleepaway High School, is full of brainwashed students. For some unknown reason, Rahna and I are immune to this brainwashing. Rahna, who is my best friend, theorizes that it is because we have a sense of self-confidence that the other students lack, therefore making the weak brainwashing ineffective on us. Either way, we are the only non-brainwashed people in this school. Except, of course, for the principal. None of the other students would ever believe us, but the principal is a cyborg that operates the control room that sends out the brainwashing signals. The rest of the teachers and staff are brainwashed, too. As far as Rahna and I can tell, they are not cyborgs, but they are certainly brainwashed. We have to somehow get past all of the teachers and staff - including the security guards - and into the control room in order to destroy the brainwashing equipment and kill the principal. It will be hard, but I believe that we can do it.

There are cameras everywhere, making our mission all the more dangerous. "Sure would be nice to have an Invisibility Cloak," I mutter.

Rahna gets the reference and snorts. "We're too cool to need that."

I roll my eyes, but secretly, I hope she's right - that we'll be successful. In the dark hallway, Rahna grabs my hand and smiles at me. A surge of affection toward her fills my heart and I am once again glad that we're not brainwashed. I smile back, my courage coming back to me.

Suddenly, something that sounds suspiciously like a footstep floats toward us. We freeze, fear coursing through my veins. The footsteps soon pass, however, and I breathe for the first time in what feels like forever. "Come on," I whisper to Rahna, leading her to the end of the hallway.

We round the corner, and standing there is a teacher! "Ah-ha!" the teacher, Ms. Simpson, yells. "Just what do you two think you're doing?"

"Run!" Rahna yells to me. We dash through the hallways, hearts racing. Behind us, Ms. Simpson is speed walking and screaming. With Rahna leading, we make several turns and duck through doors until finally, we've lost Ms. Simpson.

"Whew," Rahna pants. "That was close."

I nod numbly, afraid of how close we'd come to being caught.

"Hey," Rahna mutters softly, pulling me toward her. "It's okay, we made it. We still have plenty of time. Trust me, we'll be successful."

Hugging her back, I nod. "Okay," I whisper. I pull away and Rahna grins at me. "Okay," I repeat, more sure this time. "Let's do this!"

Rahna nods once. "Come on, Mingmei."

By the time we reach the door that leads into the hallway containing the control room and the principal's office, it is 6:47. One hour and thirteen minutes to destroy the brainwashing machines and kill the principal. Taking a deep breath, I take a step forward and open the huge wooden door, Rahna by my side.

"What?" Rahna gasps. "The hallway is empty." She glances at me with a frantic look in her eyes. "This isn't right. Do you think they...they expected us?"

"There's no way," I whisper back. "Only one way to find out."

We step into the dark hallway, the feeling of rebellion coming to fruition coursing through my veins. Rahna's hand brushes against my waist and I look at her nervously. She smiles and some of my nerves dissipate. "Let's go!" she whisper yells.

It is only after we take another step into the hallway that I notice the red glare of a security system casting its ghoulish beams across the hallway. I open my mouth to alert Rahna and attempt to pull her backwards, but it is already too late. An alarm wails and the doors behind us slam shut, a layer of foreboding metal sliding across them, effectively killing any chance of an escape. The door to the principal's office slams open, bouncing against the wall a few times before stilling. The principal steps out from the gaping doorway, his cyborg eyes glowing firetruck red. "What are you doing?' he booms.

"Run!" I shout to Rahna and charge toward the principal. I take my chances and dive at him, hoping to knock him backwards and surprise him enough that either Rahna or myself will have enough time to open the control panel at the base of his skull and flick the switch off, thus killing him. "Rahna, his control panel!" I shout.

As I collide with the principal, he reaches out and pushes me backwards. I scream, having forgotten that one of the perks of being a cyborg is having superhuman strength. He raises an arm, his hand having now transformed into a metal claw of sorts. I close my eyes and brace myself for the impact, sure that my life is now literally over. The impact, however, never comes. Instead, I hear a guttural cry followed by a thud and the sound of clanking metal.

I open my eyes to discover that Rahna has tackled the principal and is now attempting to fight him off, dodging and ducking his claw. She makes eye contact with me, widening her eyes and looking from the fight at hand to the principal's neck. Understanding her unspoken message, I tackle the principal from behind, popping open the control panel that has come loose. With a roar, the principal turns around and shakes in an attempt to throw me off. His efforts prove useless, though, as in his frantic scramble to fling me off, he has entirely exposed his neck to Rahna. "Now!" I call as I am thrown to the floor.

Rahna dashes forward and reaches out toward his control panel. The principal reaches back to stop her, swiping at her with his claw, but suddenly stops and slowly sinks to the floor. Rahna grins at me, dorkishly giving me a thumbs up. We've done it, we've killed the principal. With one last volt of electricity, he goes completely still. "Come on!" Rahna cheers and dashes toward the brainwashing room at the end of the hall.

To our great surprise, the door is unlocked with no extra protection. Inside, the security guards we once feared we would have to annihilate - or, at the very least, knock out - are dazed and confused, looking at each other with stunned expressions.

"Like a dreamer being suddenly woken from sleep," I whisper.

Beside me, Rahna shakes her head. "C'mon, Mingmei. We've got brainwashing machines to destroy."

The dumb guards make no move to stop us, opting instead to wander out into the hallway, shouting about the dead principal. Breaking open the fire extinguisher case with a devilish grin, I remove the fire extinguisher from inside and throw it at the main machine, a computer-like thing that buzzes and beeps with a display similar to a heartbeat monitor. Rahna, who has managed to grab a few nightsticks from the guards, begins smashing the other, smaller screens. One by one, we destroy each and every brainwashing machine, unplugging cords and stomping glass. Lastly, I pull the fire alarm, knowing that soon the sprinklers will be activated, ensuring the complete ruin of each and every machine.

"We did it, we did it!" I cry, turning to Rahna. She embraces me and then, to my surprise, she kisses me, a grin on her face the entire time.

"We're free! Everyone's free!" she shouts victoriously.

We run out into the hallway, where we find that the doors have been reopened by the guards and the security system is no longer active. We dash through the school, watching as students and staff alike awake from their brainwashed sleep and become real humans again.

And, when the sprinklers activate, we dance in the rain, laughing the whole time.
 
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