Monthly Archives: December 2009

High Hopes

Ronald DeFeo, Sr., had attained a trophy-size piece of the American dream when he purchased the house at 112 Ocean Avenue in Amityville, Long Island. Having been born and raised in Brooklyn, Ronald had worked hard in his father-in-law’s Brooklyn Buick dealership, and after many years began to reap rich benefits. Money was no longer a concern when he finally made the decision to leave the City and move to Long Island. The home he chose was a classic piece of Americana, two stories plus an attic, several rooms, and a boathouse on the Amityville River. There was plenty of room for him, his wife Louise; and four children. A signpost in the front yard read "High Hopes," a testament to what the new home had symbolized for the DeFeos.

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Plato’s Retreat

In 1976 Larry Levenson was in his mid forties, a fat Jewish guy who was unemployed, going to school to become a manager at McDonald’s and scratching out a living selling ice cream and sodas at Coney Island.He was a square. A sex-once-a-month-with-his-wife square, though he was now twice divorced. That is until he met Ellie, a very married, adventurous housewife, who introduced him to the subterranean clubs of Sheepshead Bay, Brooklyn. Places where couples arranged intimate encounters at alternate locations. Levenson, the pushy, obnoxious guy who was always unsuccessfully trying to get laid found that at these parties now matter how old, fat or gross the host was…if it was his place he always got laid.

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Das Über-Auto

Just imagine,” Hitler said with awe in his voice, “a motor car that can reach speeds of more than 200 miles per hour.  It’s just too perfect.  It’s exactly what is needed in the New Order.  Modern man with modern machines.”  He shook his head in sudden appreciation.

Several of the men had stopped talking and were listening intently to their Führer’s words.

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“Hip Revolutionaries have the power to strike FEAR!”
We are the ultimate Horror Show…Hideous Hair and Dangerous Drugs…Armed Love striking terror into the vacant hearts of the plastic Mother and pig-faced Father.
The future of our struggle is the future of fear, FEAR!! The fear of free love, fear of not working, fear of YOUTH…We drink the magic potion and become the spectre that haunts Amerika. We are WEREWOLVES baying at the moon and tearing at fat. Fangs sharpened, Claws dripping. We are not afraid. We create fear. (The Pig wanders from his sty…and the wolves descend.)
“Where do they come from?” Who knows. “What do they want?” They won’t say? But the moon knows. And the WEREWOLVES know. And the fat frightened giant gulps tranquilizers while his children grow hair and fangs and leave home to run with the wolves.
“We have nothing to fear but fear itself,” he said.
“But what of the wolves?” she said, anxiously.
A small town, filled with comfortable merchants and their well-fed wives, lies twinkling in the valley as the clouds drift peacefully across the night sky. In the distance a wolf howls, and another one answers, and another, and another, and soon the night is filled with the roar of howling wolves. The sounds merge into a chaotic chorus as the wolves gather together under the fullness of the moon…Lights go on all over town. Gentleman in pajamas rush to their windows, unable to sleep because of the horrifying sound carried by the night wind. Women in curlers clutch the blankets close around themselves as the shadowy, howling shapes move through the streets.
When morning comes, there is silence. The wolves have gone away, have moved on in their mysterious way…Their stomachs sag with the weight of a satisfying feast, and their fangs drip with the fresh blood of their victims. THE CHILDREN OF THE TOWN RUN BESIDE THEM.
One of the wolves stops long enough to say, “Survival”.
And another one answers him, “REVOLUTION!”
The worst fear is fear of the unknown, and we are the Unknown…THE UNKNOWN…WE ARE WEREWOLVES!!!
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The Farmer’s Gaze

Friday, July 15, 2005

Enumclaw-area animal-sex case investigated

By Jennifer Sullivan

Seattle Times staff reporter

King County sheriff’s detectives are investigating the owners of an Enumclaw-area farm after a Seattle man died from injuries sustained while having sex with a horse boarded on the property.

Investigators first learned of the farm after the man died at Enumclaw Community Hospital July 2. The county Medical Examiner’s Office ruled that the death was accidental and the result of having sex with a horse.

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