Robert Vann Smith was a pedophile known online as Ghost Writer. Under that name Smith was active on several pro-pedophilia forums where he spoke of being “omnisexual” which meant he was attracted to infants, children, teens and adults of both genders. If Smith’s name sounds familiar to crime aficionados it’s because he’s had several run ins with the law, most recently in Mexico where he was caught red handed molesting little boys:

 SAN DIEGO — Two U.S. citizens are being held in a penitentiary in Tijuana Tuesday.

Nicholas Simons, 31, of San Diego, was arrested in Tijuana along with 39-year-old Robert Smith, of Georgia.

They are being charged with rape, sexual abuse and corruption of minors after being caught with child pornography in their car while repeatedly visiting three Mexican boys at their home, according to Tijuana police.

The 9-, 10- and 12-year-old boys told police they spent several nights at a hotel with Simons and Smith.

Both men promised them DVDs and children’s videos in return, police reported.

Absolute Zero United has just reported that this degenerate died recently and his fellow perverts are posting weepy eulogies of him on Boychat and related sites. His online associates are claiming that he was a man “full of compassion” and other such nonsense. He was not, he was a wicked and petty rapist who attacked children because they were the only victims the morbidly obese cretin could overpower or exploit. Smith molested dozen of children over the years and must answer for his crimes in the next life as surely as he answered for his crimes in Mexico.

And Smith knew that he would be punished. He lived in mortal fear of the judgment of the gods as his own writings proved. This is from his MySpace, where he kept a dream journal:

One morning before I awoke, I was dreaming that I was riding in a vehicle — possiblely a car — down a highway and was heading towards a very large city in the distance.

I am unsure if I was driving the vehicle or if I was a passenger because I was sitting in the left side front seat. In some countries, this is the driver’s seat, but in other countries, it is the passenger’s seat. It seems as if I were in control of the car, but then again, it didn’t.

We — and I say “we” because it seemed as if I senses a presence with me — came to this huge bridge that arched upwards. As we began crossing it, we kept going higher and higher and higher.

The farther we rode and the higher we got, the more nervous I began to get because the height of the bridge was unbelieveablely high — higher than any bridge I had experienced in person or seen on television or in movies.

The farther we traveled — the nore nervous I became — almost to the point of panicking. I began to wonder what it was going to be like once we reached the top and started going down.

Finally, my nervousness almost to the point of panic got the better of me and I awakened.

His nervousness was the knowledge that he was damned the first time he stole the innocence of a child. That dream was over three years ago, plenty of time for him to repent and try to at least lessen his doom by turning away from his perfidy. Instead, for three years after this message foretelling his expulsion from the abode of the gods he spent his last years encouraging others to rape children. Now he’s dead and no doubt suffering what torments are reserved for the most vile of humanity.

Throughout his life Smith had a choice, as do all child rapists, to not act on his base impulses. Whether from weakness, sadism or denial Smith always gave into his impulse to exploit and abuse others. Worse he helped others validate their own desires to to do the same. No sane person could mourn the passing of a man who made himself into a monster, at least in the memories of his victims. Instead we should all take comfort that in the end he feared his final judgment and trembles even now before the wrath of the gods. His fellow degenerates may weep for him, but only because they know that his fate awaits them as well. They will die unmourned, unloved and damned by their own actions, and they despair in the doom of their own making.

As they should.