I was 12 when I first heard Ted Bundy’s name. While other girls in my class were crushing on boy bands, I was secretly reading about a man who murdered at least 30 women across America. (My mom found my hidden library book and we had A Talk.)
Fast forward 15 years, and now Ted Bundy is practically a household name. He’s got more screen time than some Marvel characters, his own documentary series, and yes – even memes. But how did we get here? And should we be concerned that the guy who once said “I just liked to kill” is now fodder for Netflix binges?
From Courtroom to Screen: Bundy’s Media Evolution
Bundy’s case was groundbreaking in more ways than one. His 1979 murder trial in Florida was the first nationally televised trial in American history. While today we’re used to watching real-time crime unfold on our screens, back then? Revolutionary.
The cameras loved him – charismatic, articulate, and unnervingly normal-looking. America was simultaneously repulsed and fascinated. (Sound familiar? It’s basically the formula for every reality show now.)
Fast forward to 2019, when Netflix dropped “Conversations with a Killer: The Ted Bundy Tapes” and suddenly my Facebook feed was full of friends who’d never expressed interest in true crime before posting about this “handsome killer” they couldn’t stop watching.
The documentary was quickly followed by “Extremely Wicked, Shockingly Evil and Vile” starring Zac Efron – because nothing says “serious examination of a serial killer” like casting a former Disney heartthrob. (Ryan, my husband, refused to watch it with me, claiming “It’s weird how excited you look right now.”)
The Bundy Meme Factory
If you’ve spent more than 10 minutes online in the past few years, you’ve probably seen a Ted Bundy meme. They range from darkly humorous to downright disturbing – juxtaposing his “normal” appearance with his monstrous actions.
One popular format features Bundy’s infamous quote about pornography “corrupting” him, paired with increasingly ridiculous images. Another shows his mugshot with captions about being “too handsome to be a killer” – a disturbing echo of the actual reactions some women had during his trial.
These memes exist in a weird ethical gray area. On one hand, they’re often created to mock the absurdity of romanticizing a killer. On the other hand, they continue to center Bundy in the narrative while his victims remain footnotes. (And if I’m being honest, I’ve definitely double-tapped a few before thinking about the implications.)
The Ethical Minefield of Murdertainment
Here’s where things get uncomfortable. When we consume Bundy content – whether it’s a serious documentary or a meme – we’re participating in a system that continues to reward his notoriety while often erasing his victims.
The extensive research on Bundy’s visual representation shows how media portrayals often focus on his charm and “normalcy” rather than his brutality. This creates a dangerous narrative that serial killers are exceptional, fascinating individuals rather than violent criminals.
I’ve caught myself doing this too – referring to Bundy by his first name like we’re acquaintances, focusing on the “interesting” psychological aspects while glossing over the horrific reality of what he did to real women with real lives.
The Victim Erasure Problem
Quick – name three of Ted Bundy’s victims.
Struggling? You’re not alone. While Bundy’s biography is widely known, his victims are often reduced to numbers and brief descriptions. We know more about his dental records than the lives of the women he murdered.
This is perhaps the most troubling aspect of Bundy’s pop culture presence. When we turn killers into celebrities, we risk further traumatizing the families of victims who have to see their loved one’s murderer become a cultural icon.
Can True Crime Do Better?
The true crime genre isn’t going anywhere. If anything, it’s expanding – with new technologies like Retrieval-Augmented Generation potentially creating even more content by helping creators access and synthesize case information more efficiently.
But maybe we can consume it more thoughtfully? I’m trying to be more conscious about which true crime content I support. Does it center victims? Does it avoid glamorizing the perpetrator? Does it provide context rather than just shock value?
I’m not saying we need to stop watching true crime (I mean, I’d have to find a whole new personality). But maybe we can be more intentional about how we engage with it.
And maybe – just maybe – we can remember that behind every fascinating killer story are real victims who deserve to be remembered as more than just plot points in America’s favorite macabre entertainment.
(But I’m still keeping my serial killer bookmarks folder. Some habits die hard.)