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FAQ: What religion are you? I thought you were a Muslim because of the hijab and modesty dress, but than I realized you wear a crucifix and have relic statues of Mary and Jesus and Catholic Saints everywhere, but than I heard you say Hail Satan and talk about summoning the Watchers and Azazel, plus people say you are a witch or wiccan or pagan or something.
I am a Voodoo Priestess rank of Medsan Fey and Marija Loa. I worship the One God, the Creator of All Life, the brass serpent of Moses who goes by many names, in Voodoo he is most commonly known as The Rainbow Serpent Papa Damballah Weddo; in Scandinavian folk religions he is known as The Great Serpent Uroboros.
Voodoo is a branch/division of the Catholic Church. We practice the same rites and rituals as does the Orthodox Catholics of the Vatican, and hail the Pope as our earthly guide. Jesus and Mary are at the centre of our belief system, and icons, relics, saint rituals, prayer beads/rosary, crucifix, candle lighting, intercessory prayer, ect.
Marija Loa is a type of Catholic nun. The word Marija Loa is Creole French and means “Married to God”. A Marija Loa is similar to a Mother Superior. She is the highest ranked nun of her order and has undergone a marriage ritual – a full wedding, wedding gown and all – to literally be married to one of the Loa. I am Marija Loa to Papa Damballah Weddo.
Medsan Fey is a rank of Catholic nun. A Medsan Fey is a nun who specializes in herbology, herbal medicine, apothecary, hoodoo magic, candle magic, poppet magic (aka Voodoo dolls).
Medsan Fey means I am a female Houngan/Borka also known as a Mambo or Vudo Queen.
I am one of only 12 Mambo on the planet who practice Death Wangas also known as The 7 Year Generational Death Curse.
I am EelKat, Etiole's Friend. Etiole is the Archangel Ertreal, The Avenging Angel who rained Brimstone and Fire on Sodom and Gomorrah, and is also known as The Pale Horseman of the apocalypse. He was a commanding officer in Azazel's Army in the battle of Heaven. The Watcher known as the lover of human women, who taught the world magic and was the father of the Nephilim and for this crime was one of the 7 Grigori Seraphim Watchers who was chained in the valleys of the Earth. I found him chained in the swamps of Maine in 1978 and set him free.
Everything I know I learned from Etiole. He is my familiar and my protector.
I am hailed by many as the world's most powerful, most feared, most famous, and most deadly witch/poltergeist/spirit medium. This is due largely to my being the real world Gypsy "witch" who my neighbour Stephen King based his fictional Thinner Gypsy witch off of. He also filmed the movie Thinner on my farm.
But I have no power. I am merely a tool, the vessel through which Etiole connects to the physical world. This comes at a great cost and is why my health is so frail.
Everything ye do unto ME, in 7 years time, Etiole will do back unto THEE.
We are often seen as Christo-Pagan, as we rely heavily on magic arts not often seen in other branches of Christianity, such as tarot cards, crystal scrying, Kabbalism, Enochian angel magic, seances, spirit/oui-ji boards, etc.
Many in the more mainstream Christian community consider us to be Occultists and/or Satan worshippers due to our frequent communication and summoning of spirits, including both archangels and demons, and most notably The Loa, The Enochian archangels, and the Grigori aka The Watchers.
Like all Catholic nuns we cover our heads with veils and wear long modest caftan/robes/dresses. The colours and materials and styling of our veils and robes vary from day to day, depending on our sect, what holy day it is, which loa we are attuned to, our patron saint, ect.
Seeing how this question comes to me from gamers, I will simply the answer in gaming terminology that you will understand: If I was a character in an RPG, I am what you would call an Herbalist-Alchemist-Druid-Healer-Priest.
More simply put, I am what the ignorant would call a Witch Doctor or a Gypsy Fortune Teller or a Gypsy Witch.
s Also... April 10, 2015 has a 7 year anniversary coming up soon, has anyone noticed the changes to the Reclaim Blueberry Plains? Yeah. Etiole's been redecorating his home, hasn't he? What goes around, comes around bitches. Nigh on 7 years ago, you razed my farm... funny how government land is being razed the exact same way my farm was razed... I notice too several town hall workers, have seen their entire families die around them, you know just like how my entire family was murdered and their heads nailed to my door... how are you going to explain to the news stations, the fact that 53 people, all involved in the murders of my family, have died from being hit by lightening?
Freak natural phenomena?
Poltergeist activity?
Zapped by alien UFOs - isn't THAT your go to excuse whenever you blame me or Etiole for anything?
Better yet, how will you explain the backhoe, lifted up by a freak tornado in Maine, thrown through the sky to land on... oh look... my, my, there's a back hoe sitting on your house! It just fell out of the sky and landed there. No driver involved. Honey pie, did you know there's a back hoe sitting on your house? How's that feel?
Perhaps, you should call it what it is: punishment handed down by the hand of God himself.
Doesn't feel nice to have your land razed, a backhoe sitting on your house, and your entire family die, does it... you shouldn't have pissed off Etiole... tick tock, tick tock, you can't run from Etiole's 7 year clock... karma's a bitch isn't it?
All that you do, good or bad, is mirrored back on you.
For every good deed you are rewarded seven fold.
Give $10 to the homeless, you'll find $70 mysteriously come to you in return.
7 years ago a back hoe was driven over my house, and now a tornado, has dropped a back hoe on your house.
7 years ago, huge land movers owned by the town, razed my yard, cut down 400 year old apple orchards, 200 year old grape vineyards, and tossed into a wood chopper: $300,000 in rare hybrid long stem rose bushes. A road grader scraped off and stole 6 feet deep of the top soil, taking with it acres of spring bulbs, daffodils, tulips, crocus, hyacinth, snowdrops. They left nothing behind but a few inches of sand on top of ledge and bare rock.
Now this week, 7 years later, a crew of huge land movers, clear cut 72 acres of protected town owned forest, 500 year old endangered pines, rolled back all the top soil, leaving it in a huge 50 foot tall mound, leaving behind a desert wasteland... that is all that left of The Reclaim Blueberry Plains, on this the 7 year anniversary of the razing of my farm.
Those who laughed, when others warned 7 years ago, what Etiole would do, aren't laughing any more, now that 7 years is here, are they?
You always hear people take about their god being a passive god who, stands back and watches from afar. Your god sounds lazy and incompetent.
My god is very active, wields physical justice that can be witnessed by all, dishes out great rewards in exchange for kindness and good deeds, while plowing through sinners and workers of evil with a vicious vengeance. My god doesn't hide in the shadows and leave my prayers unanswered.
I hold no alliance to any religion.
My allegiance is to The One God and his army of archangels, because they have proven themselves, time and time again, to be the most powerful beings this world has ever known.
I have witnessed the power of angels.
I've seen their many wings, heavy laden with shinning feathers, and bright eyes upon each one. Eyes that see through time, through walls, across nations, forward and backward.
They see all.
They know all.
You can hide nothing from them.
Nor can you hide from them.
They see your sin.
They see your works of evil.
They see your compassion.
They see all your good deeds.
And they reward and punish accordingly.
I was raised a 5th generation FLDS Mormon.
I attended 12 years of Calvinist Seminary/Bible College.
And I met Etiole and set him free. In exchange, he taught me the rites and rituals of Voodoo and Enochain Angel Magic.
I believe in the power of angels.
Through faith, all things are possible.
Believe and anything can happen.
I've seen the power and glory of the archangels.
I know without a doubt, that not even every human on the planet gathered together, has even a sliver of the power of just one angel. And I have Etiole and his entire army on my side.
People fear Etiole. Call him a demon.
But they have no reason to.
Etiole is kind and gentle and loving.
Etiole is only dangerous to evil doers who seek to harm those he loves.
Etiole protects his own, as would any moral, decent man.
If you have love, kindness, good thoughts, and compassion in your heart, than you would never seek to do evil. You would never commit sin. And you would never have any reason to fear Etiole.
Your fear of Etiole, exists only because you have hurt me or my family, and you know in your heart of hearts that Etiole WILL come for you.
Etiole is immortal. You can not harm him.
Etiole walks through time. He moves through solid walls, like they were not there. He moves in the blink of an eye, one second here, one second there tens of thousands of miles away. For this reason, you not hide from him, nor can you out run him.
Time. Space. Physical walls. They mean nothing to an archangel.
He is not flesh as humans know it. He takes a solid form, when that is his will. But he can walk out of that flesh, and exist as nothing more than a glowing beam of bright blue light.
He can look like anything or anyone.
I've seen his snake form, his white owl form, his white monkey form, his black shifting shadowy goo under your bed form.
If you want to fear him, he can be fearsome and will be that, if you are deserving of his fear.
He appears to me, as a little man, kind and gentle. I've never had reason to fear him.
But there are throughout Maine, more than 7,000 witness testimonies, from others whom have seen him, and describe him as a huge beast, a demonic creature, with a maw full of many rows of piranha teeth, and sharp eagle's talons on his hands.
I've seen him take that form, in his den in The Reclaim Blueberry Plains, near the graves of the children, whose bodies were sawed up, put in black plastic bags, stuffed in the trunk of 3 cars, and those cars buried in the Goosefare Brooke Ravine.
He takes that form there, because the souls of 31 dead, murdered children, scream out from the ravine of The Reclaim Blueberry Plains, crying for justice, crying for their murderer to be revealed.
He takes that fearsome form, at the ravine, because he has absorbed the souls of those murdered children, and their pain, their suffering, their agony, screams out from within him.
He has guarded their mass grave, their sawed up pieces, in black plastic bags, in the trunks of 3 cars, at the bottom of the ravine, since The Cyr Clan dumped them there, in the 1970s.
Etiole appeared in The Ross Forest, September 23, 1978... his spirit was pulled into our physical plain, by the screams of the souls of The White Monkey Children.
He is a Guardian Angel, an Avenging Angel, who rose up in our town for one purpose and one purpose only: To protect the children who were victims to a horrible group of people.
I was one of those children.
We children who were raped, caged, and tortured by evil men, we begged and we pleaded for help. And no human would help us.
No bishop.
No priest.
No police officer.
No town manager.
No town council men.
We escaped again and again, and we begged every adult we could find in this town, to please help us. Please end our suffering.
But punishment for escape, was death, and being buried by Anne, Bryan, Donald, or Troy at the bottom of that ravine.
As more of us were killed and buried and no help from the men of the town came, we turned to god, we pleaded and begged, send us angel to punish the men who torment, torture, rape, and murder us.
That's when Etiole appeared.
He came in answer to our prayers.
Of more than 140 of us children who were tortured by those evil men, I am one of the last 2 still alive.
There were over 200 of us in 1975 when they started tossing our bodies in the ravine.
Now in 2021, only 2 of those children remain. And I am one of those 2.
That is why Etiole protects me.
He will never leave me.
He will never forsake me.
We children summoned him in our terror and by the blood of my cousins who lay dead at bottom of that ravine, Etiole draws his power.
And even centuries after I am gone, he will continue to guard this location, and he continue for thousands of years, to haunt the children and grandchildren of the men who tortured and murdered The White Monkey Children of Old Orchard Beach, Maine.
If you never hurt us, The White Monkey Children, you have nothing to fear from Etiole.
But if you were ever involved in any crime against any of us, in any way, at any point in our lives... woe unto and your family for 7 generations, for he will haunt you, torment you, and your children, and your grandchildren, and their children and their grandchildren, 7 times over.
Everything you have done to us, he will do to them, for the next 700 years. For that is what we 140 children asked him to do, when we summoned him, 50 years ago.
You may call him a demon, but children who summoned him, we know what he really is: he is our Guardian Angel.
Etiole.
HE is my religion.
HE is what I believe in.
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ZERO
NOTHING
I've NEVER earned a single penny from any of my videos, VODs, or livestreams, not on Twitch, not on YouTube, not on any other platform.
I do not monetize my content.
I do not turn on ads.
I do not have a donation link.
Streaming, gaming, and video creation are things I do in my spare time, after work. It is how I relax and de-stress. It is not a career/income for me. This is why I also do not have a regular or consistent schedule. I stream, play video games, and make videos in my spare time, when I feel like I am in the mood to do so. I find the act of playing video games, streaming, and making videos to be incredibly relaxing and it is my habit to do these things either when I am stressed out and need to relax or when I am having trouble sleeping and need to do something that will help lull me into a sense of calm so I can sleep.
The car/driving/shopping/town vlogs and livestreams are not something I do as a hobby. I do them at the request of FBI agent Andy Drewer, who goes through them all with a fine tooth comb looking for any clues as to the identity of the bomber who blew up my house or the murderers who cut the heads off my children and nailed them to my door. This camera is running 24hrs a day and if you do ANYTHING on that camera, you WILL be questioned by the FBI, so be sure you REALLY want that 5 minutes of fame BEFORE you jump in front of that camera, because it WILL brand you as a murder suspect.
If you have any information on the kidnappers or the murders...
FBI Agent Andy Drewer out of the Portland, Maine FBI office is in charge of the of the April 10, 2015 kidnapping of my 12 children by 14 Ku Klux Klan men who invaded our home and the subsequent May 15, 2015 murder of 10 of the 12 whom had their heads nailed to my front door. If you have information about the case, give it to him not me. He can be reached @ +1-(207)-774-9322
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The Dazzling Razzberry is back... now all black primer... Repaired, wielded back together, running, licensed, registered, and back on the road again... now primed and ready to be restored.
This car was obliterated by a PsychoBitch 4Chan QAnon Twitch streamer and 5 of her simps armed with baseball bats, in February 2019. They did $30,000 in damages, leaving it chop-shopped to pieces, smashed apart, and all of it's 2.5million beads and marbles scraped off.
This car was my daily driver and daily car vlog streams stopped February 2019 because the car was reduced to so many chopped up pieces, that it took up nearly 3 years to wield the pieces back together, and make the car drivable again.
Because it cost $12,000 for the 2.5million marbles that was glued to it, and took me 4 years to hand glue them on one marble at a time, and most of those 2.5million marbles were reduced to shattered powdered glass dust by the vandals, The Dazzling Razzberry will not be returning to it's former shimmering glory.
If you know the Twighlight Manor series and you know Etiole's brother Razzbury that the car was inspired after... know this... we are going Sea Wolf for the rise of The Dazzling Razzberry 3.
Out with the Green Moray Eels and in with the Piranhas
#FAQs: What do you mean you ain't a boomer?
You really don't know what a boomer is do you?
My dad, who is 82 years old, is not even old enough to be a boomer and you think me who is 30 years younger than HIM could be a boomer?
#NEWSFLASH: you make yourself look retarded when you use words incorrectly. If you don't want people to think you are stupid, try learning the correct meanings for words and start using words properly. No one is going to take you seriously or have any respect for you when you prove yourself to be brain dead every time you open your mouth.
Well, for starters, a female can't be a boomer. Only a male can be a boomer.
Secondly: Are there any boomers even left alive?
My grandfather was a boomer. But he died at age 101, more than 20 years ago.
The definition of a boomer is a WW2 solider who fathered dozens of illegitimate babies overseas (thus: baby boomer) and most of them would be 120 to 140 years old today.
You use Boomer as though it implies "old" and that is not what it means, not even close.
A Boomer is an immoral, degenerate deadbeat dad who booms out sperm all over the fucking planet in every whore he can find and takes no responsibility for his actions. Boomers are vile, degraded whore mongers.
Any Boomer alive today, at the youngest, is going to be 98 years old or older, and is a lot older than a scuzbag like him deserves to be.
Still confused about what the word Boomer ACTUAL means? Let me simplify it for you.
* If you are a man who has sex outside of marriage: YOU are a Boomer!
* If you are a man and you live with a woman you are not married to: YOU are a Boomer!
* If you ever fucked a prostitute: YOU are a Boomer!
* If you are a fornicator: YOU are a Boomer!
* If you are a adulterer: YOU are a Boomer!
* If you are a whore monger: YOU are a Boomer!
* If you practice BDSM: YOU are a Boomer!
* If you ever fathered a baby than demanded it's mother have an abortion: YOU are a Boomer!
* If you ever fathered a baby than disappeared from it's life: YOU are a Boomer!
* If you are a dead beat dad: YOU are a Boomer!
#BOOMER MEANS A MAN WHO BOOMS OUT ILLEGITIMATE BABIES!
#If you are a boomer, than you are a vile sex crazed degenerate and you can be THAT at any age.
The word boomer has NOTHING to do with age and everything to do, with sex, specifically, it means you are an immoral degenerate.
By using the word Boomer to mean old, you simply prove how deeply mentally incompetent you really are.
I have a severe hatred for whore mongers.
I have an even bigger hatred for dead beat dads.
I can't stand men who shoot their sperm into every prostitute they can find than scurry off to the next slut assed whore and leave a trail of babies behind.
Men who boom out babies are the #1 cause of abortion... to the tune of 5,000 babies murdered every day, just in America.
Boomer officially means World War 2 solders who fucked every last whore they could find, than left them behind and never did a damned thing about taking care of a illegitimate bastards they boomed out every where.
I loath Boomers.
You want to update the word boom to mean someone OTHER than the dead beat dads of WW2?
#Boomer doesn't mean old, and it NEVER has... it means a fucking degenerate sex monger, who can't be bothered to even make an attempt to be descent moral man.
#When you call someone a boomer, you calling them a dead beat dad NOT old.
Boomers are men who boom out sperm in women they aren't married to... THAT IS THE DICTIONARY DEFINITION OF BOOMER YO FUCKING RETARD! Go out and get yourself a brain, you certainly need one.
I absolutely deplore men who can't be bothered to take care of their own children. And more than that, I HATE sex crazed degenerates. And a Boomer is both.
Vile scum of the earth. That's what a boomer is.
Boomer is a highly offensive word to call someone.
By calling someone a Boomer, you are calling them a fucking sex crazed whore monger.
You might want to look up what a boomer is before calling people that word.
You come off looking like a stupid retarded fool when you don't use words correctly. Is that how you want people to view you?
Words matter. Learn to use them properly, otherwise everyone will think you a brain dead idiot who does nothing but parrot off the mindless ravings of social justice warriors who can't tell their ass from a hole in the ground.
Just because a million people say a thing, doesn't make that thing correct, it just makes a million people prove they are stupid for not researching the facts and finding out the truth.
You using the word Boomer as a synonym for "old" simply proves you are too stupid to fact check word meanings in a dictionary.
Also, you might want to fact check the source of the word boomer for old... it comes from a rather disrespectful paedophile streamer, Dr. Disrespect, who was banned by Twitch for livestreaming himself hiding in girls bathroom stalls and shoving the camera under the doors to livestream little girls peeing... his response to being banned was to call Twitch CEOs "Boomers" who were too old and stuck up to see the fun in watching children pee.
So not only are you using the word Boomer incorrectly, but you are showing your support for a paedophile child abuser when you do so.
So now, not only do you come off as looking too retarded to know the meanings of words, but you also imply that you are a scumbag supporter of child sexual abuse.
You might want to think about that next time you feel like using the word Boomer.
If you don't care that people see you are a retarded, scumbag, who supports disrespectful paedophiles, than by all means, continue to use Boomer in place of old.
My thoughts of on your support of that person? Here, have a quote:
*"Watching people defend someone they're a fan of, completely dismissing any evidence of wrongdoing, just because they think they know that creator like a close friend based solely on what they've seen in videos and stuff. Parasocial relationships are terrifying." ~ Welsknight Gaming*
...and, by the time you read this my answer to your question, you will find that I've already banned you.
Why?
Because I'm a survivor of childhood sexual abuse, and I'll not have degenerates like you, who are supporters of child abusing men like that disrespectful bastard, near me. And if you're using his version of the word Boomer, that means you see nothing wrong with supporting him and don't give a shit about the little girls he sexually abused. And I don't want disrespectful child abuse supporting scum bags like you near me.
Try getting an education, than maybe we'll learn you ain't actually as retarded as you sound when you try to use words.
And if you don't like being called a retard... here's a tip: STOP TALKING LIKE ONE!
A mentally retarded person is any person with a learning disability that prevents them from properly using their brain functions and causes them to be unable to formulate or use words correctly, leaving them unable to communicate with others properly, due to their extreme misuse of words.
You my friend, every time you missuses a word, such a boomer, you simply prove to the world that you ARE mentally retarded according to the actual medical textbook definition of the word.
If it walks like a duck and talks like a duck, it might just be a duck.
If it walks like a retard and talks like a retard... yeah... stop proving yourself retarded every time you open your mouth and maybe some day people will take you seriously and stop treating you like a child.
Also, do unto me as you want me to do unto you... I wouldn't be calling you names if you hadn't called me names first... don't bother me and I won't bother you... harass me and I'll become your worst nightmare.
I keep to myself, I like my privacy, I don't like being bothered, I don't like being interrupted, I especially don't like being harassed, and don't lay down and take it, I defend myself from dipshit bullies like you.
If you can't take it, you shouldn't be dishing it out, because whatever you throw at me, I'm gonna throw it right back in your face.
You don't like being called names? Hey guess what? Neither do I. That's why what you do to me, I do back to you, so that you can know how it feels and learn WHY I don't like you doing it to me.
Here's a thought....
#Fucking grow up.
FAQs: Can I visit you?
No.
No, I do not allow home visits from anyone for any reason - not any more.
I used to, but never again.
Reason: I'm a little bit famous, in fact, I'm quiet a lot famous, and in the past, I agreed to a home visit, and that person, didn't recognize my name at first, until they met me face to face and immediately realized who I was, and where they were standing - my farm was in a rather famous movie, so it's easily recognized by anyone who has ever seen that movie, and that movie, it's a BIG movie, written by an even more famous than me Maine author, and while I write under a penname, my face is on my books, and I'm easy to recognize, and that last time I let someone into my home - they realized who I was, what my farm was, what movie I was connected to, and they ran to social media to tell their friends they had meet me, including to publicly post where I live... by the end of the week I had dozens of paparazzi and some 30,000 (yes thirty thousand - yes I am that famous) screaming fanboys from all over the country in my driveway and the local police had to send out 42 officers to try to deal with it - the mass influx of tens of thousands of trespassers did huge amounts of damage to my farm, my property, my crops, my cars... and resulted in the murder of all of my children.
To this day police don't know who killed them, just that it was likely a crazed fan who saw my home address posted online by some other fan.
With the police and FBI not knowing who murdered my family, I'm left unable to trust anyone.
Who can you trust, in a case like mine?
I've no family to turn to, they were murdered.
I've no friends, what few fans didn't chase away, got hased off after being suspects by the police and FBI.
That's why I'm crippled. That's why I'm alone. That's why I have post traumatic stress disorder.
You don't know what it's like, to have 10 children children murdered, their heads nailed to your front door, and than try to recover from that. And be left with police shrugging and saying all leads lead to dead ends.
And you, are left with a broken spine. Having to relearn how to walk, not even able to mourn your family being murdered, because you're injured so bad yourself, you're just trying to stay alive.
And than, after years of recovery and physical therapy, alongside years of police investigations, FBI investigations, and being left with no answers. The attackers still a mystery, who they are or why they did it, who are they, no one knows, what was their motive, no one knows.
To go from a large family, to being alone, like that, it's hell to live with. And no one understands. People pity you, feel sorry for you, and move on with their lives. While you are left alone. With no answers and no one to talk to because, everyone you would have talked to is now dead.
How many parents know the pain of a murdered child? Not many.
If you've not lived through it yourself, you can't even begin to understand it.
I'm sick of people's pity. I don't want your fucking pity.
I want a friend.
I'm tired of hoping there'll be someone out there who understands how I feel.
I like my privacy and thanks to the murder of my entire family, I'm a lot more famous now than I was back than, and social media was uncommon back than but now today everybody has it - that means the risk now is far greater than it was before, I don't want a repeat of that incident, those trespassers did several $million in damages to my farm and members of my family (now dead) were badly hurt, I don't want to go through something like that again, that's why I now have bodyguards and I don't let anyone near my land any more for any reason at all.
The fact remains:
* I didn't used to have PTSD.
* I didn't used to live alone.
* I used to have a family.
* My entire family was murdered.
* I've spent the past 5 years dealing with police and FBI and lawyers and court... and running into endless deadnends with police and FBI to this day, not knowing who crippled me or murdered my family.
You'll have to excuse me if I'm a little paranoid about people entering my home, but that's one of the side effects of having all your children murdered and police and FBI clueless as to who did it and suspecting that most likely it was a crazy fan who got my home adress off social media after another fan posted it there.
I like my privacy and I do NOT trust psycho-fans to respect it, because I have 4 decades of personal experience with the fact that fans have ZERO respect for the homes/property/pets/family of any famous person they are a fan of and they will ALWAYS run to social media to brag "OMG! Look who I met! Here's their address, go meet them too!"; yes I have become excessively, overly, paranoid about people getting near me, my family, my property, my cars, and my land, but there is a very good and well justified reason for it.
The very reason I no longer allow any one near my home, is the same reason I am now looking for a dog.
I'm tired of being alone, for years on end.
I couldn't go out and get a dog after it happened, I was too busy in the hospital being paralyzed, then then too busy relearning to walk, in between endless weeks of police and FBI interviews.
Now things have stabilized. I'm walking again, more or less; police and FBI come by less and less frequently as the leads grow ever colder. News reporters have more pressing things to talk about like Covid19 so no longer bug me endlessly for interviews.
Life goes back to normal... except, my family is dead and I'm disabled and alone.
I need someone to keep me company, as I am finding the loneliness of an empty home with a family that will never return, unbearable.
I suppose I should have been aware of the covid-19 issue, but, I rather preoccupied with dealing with both the murder of my family and recovering from 3 strangers beating me with golf clubs, so I was a little bit too busy to pay much attention to the news.
Yes, I would LIKE visitors, but experience has taught me that no one ever wants to be my friend. They always have a motive. They always want something.
So no, you can't come visit me.
Before I'll let you visit me, you need to prove I can trust you.
And for me to trust you, you first have to prove it wasn't YOU who killed my family.
Why should I trust YOU?
Can YOU prove, that YOU did not murder my family?
What evidence can YOU provide, to prove that YOU were not involved?
To everyone talking about gun reform after this weeks Colorado shooting, here my thoughts:
Mass shootings happen everywhere often, it's rare they make the news... for example ... in Lewiston Maine, exactly 2 hours BEFORE this shooting in Colorado, there was a shooting in Lewiston, Maine - it was not in the news - if I wasn't local, I wouldn't have known about it.
In America, there is an average of 300 mass shootings EACH AND EVERY DAY, as well as shootings of only 1 or 2 people occurring at a rate of more then 500 per day.
That mass shootings do not make news headlines more often, is the ONLY reason so many people are surprised.
An average of only 1 in every 2,000 shootings ever gets reported on national TV.
That YOU did not know this, simply shows that you are someone who does not pay attention to what goes on daily around you in your own home town and home state.
#That so many people are marveling at the mass shooting, simply tells me that the bulk of society has it's head shoved up their own asses and are too blind to see what it happening in their own town every day.
The ONLY time a mass shooting appears in the news is if:
* 1 - it was a school shooting done by a child
* 2 - it resulted in the death of a police officer
* 3 - the shooter was someone famous - and usually only if they are a sports player, while actors, authors, singers, especially rap singers, commit mass shootings on an alarmingly frequent basis, but usually football stars and basketball players are the only ones who make news headlines when they commit mass shooting
Some states, like California, Massachusetts, and Illinois, have so many mass shootings PER DAY, that the daily newspapers have a column that is titled: **"TODAY'S SHOOTINGS"** which is simply a list of street addresses and times. It item on the list reads like this: *"Shooting at 10:38AM on Main Street, 3 wounded, 2 dead."* These lists will often have 10 or 12 or more shootings, for EACH DAY!
(I worked for Guy Gannett news paper publishing firm for 21 years; they publish many large newspapers, including the Boston Globe)
#DAILY mass shootings are so common in some states, that the newspaper keeps a daily list of today's shootings!
Mass shootings are so common in Maine that I have both witnessed and captured on camera, more than 200 of them JUST since 2015.
March 2020 - 4 men with guns broke into my elderly neighbours house and gunned him down in his bed while he slept - it was not in the news - had the shooting not woken me up and I been standing in my driveway when the police took out his body I would not know it had happened.
February 14, 2019, my cousin was killed in a WalMart shooting in Scarborough, Maine - it was not in the news - I only know it happened because a family member died.
July 2013 - a different cousin was killed in another shooting - it was not in the news - had it not been a family member who died I wouldn't know it happened.
June 2001 another cousin was killed in another shooting - at the San Diego ComicCon - he was shot by a police officer - he was a by stander who got shot by a paranoid, racist police officer shooting at someone who it turned out did not have a gun and was just a black man wearing a hoodie walking by minding his own business - it was not in the news - had it not been a family member who died I wouldn't know it happened.
November 2015 and July 2016 - Scarbughouh WalMart was evacuated because a local white supremist group - a group of about 30 people armed with guns - "took over" the WalMart and started shooting at black and Muslim customers - I was one of the people being shot at because of how I dress, they mistook me as Muslim even though I was not - it was not in the news - had I not been a shopper in the store those 2 days and been one of the people being shot at, I would not know it had happened
In August 2016, there were 5 shootings in a single week in Old Orchard Beach, Maine... one involved a group of 70 people with guns driving through town shooting anyone they suspected of being gay - it was not in the news, I only know it happened because they shot 30 bullets into the front of my house and 50+ bullets into my neighbours house - they claimed I was a male to female transgender gay man even though I'm a natural born woman
My neighbour 2 houses down - a town counsel men of Old Orchard Beach - has had 7 FBI raids on his home the past 4 years - each time removing over 100 illegal assault rifles... he was charged with shooting 4 people in one of the gay shootings done by the group of 70+ people - he was not arrested and is still on the town counsel - had the state police and FBI officers not come to our house to tell us to stay inside during the raid, I would have known about it, because it was not in the news.
Between 2015 and 2021 - I have MORE THAN 100 local mass shootings here in Maine were CAUGHT ON CAMERA during my livestreams on Twitch - not one of them was on any news station.
Maine has one of the LOWEST crime rates in the country.
News stations rely on the police department to forward the reports of these shootings to them, so that the news reporters can reports on the shootings happening.
Gun reform will solve nothing. Because when all is said and done, a gun is nothing but a piece of scrap metal and on it's own all it can do is lay harmlessly on the ground.
A gun can harm no one, unless it is wielded by a dangerous person. The person, not the gun, is the problem.
A person who would shoot somebody, is STILL going to hurt people, even they did not have a gun. They would build a bomb, or wield a knife, or even a wooden fence post. If they want to cause harm, they will, gun or no gun.
Yes, a gun makes it easier for them to hurt more people at once, but take their guns away, and they will just find something else to hurt people with. EVERYTHING is dangerous in their hands because THEY THE PERSON is dangerous.
I live in Maine - the place in the world that has more guns per person than anywhere else on the planet - Maine has just under 2 million residents, and just over 17million leally registered guns and estimated another 5million illegal guns.
Maine is a wild forest region, 3/4s of the population NEED their guns to survive, because they eat deer, moose, squirrel, fox, coywolf, fisher, duck, turkey - every day, and without their guns, their families would starve to death.
Most gun owners ARE responsible people and are NOT running around shooting people.
Look at Maine, Everyone wears fur coats, where do you think the fur came from? It's -40F on a good day. Everyone here in Maine wears furs, because if we didn't, we would freeze to death.
Bear attacks happen daily. Groups of 20 to 50 coywolves gang up on children and tear them to shreds ... here in Maine, you NEED a gun, just go outside and NOT be torn apart by mountain lions, wolves, bear, or coywolves.
Guns keep people alive, warm, and feed, far more often, than guns hurt or kill. There's a lot of people who NEED guns to stay alive, to feed their families, to protect their families.
In the hands of a responsible person a gun is a tool of survival, not a weapon.
Only dangerous people, who would kill even without a gun, make guns a dangerous weapon.
Guns are not the problem - dangerous people are.
Gun reform is NOT the answer.
All gun reform is going to do is punish people who obey the law.
But people who use guns to kill, are not law abiding citizens, so, gun reform will not affect them, because they don't obey laws anyways.
People who use guns to kill, don't care about laws, so changing laws WILL NOT STOP THEM!
If they cared about obeying the law, they wouldn't being killing people in the first place.
My family, we are not white, and THAT is why my family has seen so many mass shootings, because every single mass shooting listed above, was done by a dangerous person, so blinded by racist hate that they felt the need to kill non-whites.
Racism is the problem.
Guns are only dangerous in the hands of haters, racists, and bigots.
But you people obsessing over the Colorado shooting, you act like mass shootings are rare... ad they are NOT... mass shooting happen all the time, they just don't get reported on very often.
We need better awareness to how often mass shootings happen.
it's not gun reform we need - we need police officers willing to do their jobs and #1 arrest the shooters not just take their guns away and #2 tell the news stations how often these near weekly mass shootings happen so the news can report on HOW OFTEN these events happen
#Awareness of how often mass shootings occur and don't get reported on by the news is what is needed
Maybe, if you stopped focusing on self and paid attention to something other than yourself for a change, you'd notice how vastly common gun crime is.
Don't rely on the news media to tell you the whole truth. They tell you pieces of the truth, and only as much of the truth as they think you want to hear, and only than, if they think it'll boost their ratings.
The daily mass shootings of Chicago are rarely in the news, because they happen so often, so many of them every day, that they are deemed "TOO BORING" to be news worthy.
The daily mass shootings of Boston are likewise, rarely in the news, because it's usually gang related and when was the last time you saw the news media report on anything the Mafia did?
The weekly mass shootings of Maine are almost never in the news, because no one in the lower 48 gives 2 shits about Maine.
If it isn't going to bring views or increase ratings, the news station isn't going to cover it, no matter what it is, including, and not limited to, mass shootings.
Gun reform is NOT going to fix the problem.
Responsible gun owners are already obeying the current gun laws.
Gun reform, is ONLY going to punish, responsible people, for things they would never do.
Mass shootings are committed by people who do obey gun laws, so changing gun laws, WILL NOT prevent mass shootings.
People who commit mass shootings, rarely buy their guns legally, so changing laws regarding gun sales, will NOT keep guns out of their hands.
What we need is NOT gun reform, wat we NEED is HONEST NEWS REPORTING.
We NEED news stations who report on ACTUAL daily news.
If people KNEW how many mass shootings occur **EVERY DAY, in ALL 50 STATES**, they would know who truly pointless and a waste of time a resources, gun reform is.
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This one....
I stream on Twitch, YouTube, FaceBook, and Twitter. I have no pre-planned schedule for which site I will go live on. I do NOT multi-stream on multiple sites at once, so if I am live on one, I am not live on the other 3. (The FaceBook one will say "Video Unavailable" when not live.)
NOTE: Chat is set to emote only on my Twitch channel and my personal contact information has been removed from my website and every place else, due to the HUNDREDS OF THOUSANDS of false reports of "information", along with vile hateful memes about the murder of my family being sent to me by trolls who think mocking the murder of my family is funny.
FBI Agent Andy Drewer out of the Portland, Maine FBI office is in charge of the of the April 10, 2015 kidnapping of my 12 children by 14 Ku Klux Klan men who invaded our home and the subsequent May 15, 2015 murder of 10 of the 12 whom had their heads nailed to my front door. If you have information about the case, give it to him not me. He can be reached @ +1-(207)-774-9322
Vanilla Avallac'h vs Modded Avallac'h
If you are Mormon, Mason, Jewish, or Zoroastrian, take a close look at his gambeson and see what you see. If you are Mormon, Mason, Jewish, or Zoroastrian, you'll see it and you'll know exactly what it means. On the other hand if you are a Gentile or an Infidel, you won't have a clue.
>>Both images on the left from May 2018, the 1st Avallac'h Playthrough
Vanilla Avallac'h has black hair and eyebrows turned grey, and has an appalling LOD of 5 and draw distance of 7, and has no hairworks effects, no wind effects, and while his 3d model & texture files have wrinkles, scars, bruises, bug bites, moles, and veins, you can't see them on the vanilla settings.
Also while Avallac'h's clothen had a RedCloth file, it had very low grade settings/pollies causing the details of the cloth weave, seam stitches, and embroidery to be blurry.
Vanilla Avallac'h has pupils that react to light, like all other characters in the game.
>>Both images on the right from September 15, 2020, the 3rd Avallac'h Playthrough
Modded Avallac'h has a 5,000 LOD and draw distance, resulting in wrinkles, scars, bruises, bug bites, moles, and veins on his skin can now be seen. This also revealed that he has a fine scar down the side of his nose and one over his eyebrow, both were not visible at all with the vanilla LOD settings.
Hairworks and wind effects have been added to his hair.
While we are talking about his hair... notice that he wears payot. If you don't know what payot are or why a man would have them... Google will help you. It brands him as Hasidic.
His hair and eyebrows are changed to blond (as described in the novels), his skin has been lightened several shades (again to match novel descriptions), and he has new texture files for his eyes to make them pale ice aquamarine with pink pupils, as described in the novels.
Modded Avallac'h has pupils that are frozen into tiny pinpricks and never grow or retract with light changes, matching the information we were told about him having suffered severe nerve damage which caused him to have tiny frozen pupils that did not react to light.
Because the file which changes a character's pupils, is NOT connected to their eye file, but rather is connected to their shadow file and changes not only the size and shape of pupils in different lights, it also changes the shadows on their face, and changes the intensity of their makeup.
The result of changing this file, is that shadows on Avallac'h's face are now fainter and his vanilla very dark eyeshadow is now many shades much lighter.
This results in a bright highlight on his cheekbones, making them much paler, and has caused an illusion that his cheekbones are even sharper than before, even though no change was made to his 3D model bone structure... i is simply a result of less shadow below his cheekbones with brighter highlight over them, and fewer shadows around his eyes.
I increased the depth of Avallac'h's RedCloth file (edited the 3D model to make ridged details a deeper depth) and increased settings/pollies causing the details of the cloth weave, seam stitches, and embroidery to be much sharper and more noticable, making the cloth look more real.
And speaking of the cloth looking more real... if you are a Gentile or an Infidel, you won't have a clue what it was I mentioned earlier, so let me point it out... on the beast of his gambeson, right over the nipple, there are slash marks that are stitched into a very specific pattern/design... this marks Avallac'h as a very high ranking priest, one who has access to the deepest, inner circles of the Temple, on par with The Levite in the Bible, it also tells us that he is a virgin and living celibate lifestyle because of his religious rank.
On their own, the slash marks do not identify a specific religion, but one of 5 religions. However, that, with the payot, and the fact that he covers his head when going outside, brands him as a Hasidic Jew.
We further know that in the novels, ALL Elves are Jewish, and the masque of the Elves during the Human invasion, was an outright retelling of the Holocaust, and Avallac'h spoke an ancient dialect of Hebrew and was unable to understand most Humans as he spoke none of the common tongues.
Raise your hand if you ACTUALLY KNOW what Manna is? Sephiroth? Sackcloth and ashes? Golems? The Tree of Life? The Pentagram? Tzitzit? Are you able to explain ANY of those things and what they are, when you encounter them in quests in the game?
Can you explain WHY Geralt meditates on a prayer rug facing East?
Explain to me WHY after her grandmother dies, Ciri shreds her cloths, starts wearing sackcloth, and rolls her golden blond hair in ashes to turn it into dreadlocks, resulting her becoming known as "the ashen haired maid"?
When the game shows you Avallac'h naked in Kaer Morhen, can you read the Hebrew writing tattoo across his chest and abdomen? Do you know what the symbols on his tattoos mean?
After having watched more than 5,000 playthroughs of Witcher 3 on Twitch, I'm continually amazed at how few people ever recognize the plethora of openly Jewish characters and miss the HUNDREDS of Holocaust reference easter eggs that flood every segment of the game.
And now that the books are becoming popular, after 40 years of being ignored by the bulk of society... it likewise amazes me, how many people are so clueless about the Holocaust and what happened to the Jews in Poland, that they read the Witcher novels with blind eyes, and completely miss that the Gnomes and Elves are blatantly Jewish, while the Humans are blatantly Nazi, and the mass murder of millions of Jewish Gnomes and Elves at the hands of their Nazi Human invaders, is an outright retelling of the events of real world history.... of that happened just 80 years ago.
Our world is in a pitiful state if the so recent mass murder of 20 million is so easily forgotten, so soon.
If you know nothing about the Holocaust, you REALLY shouldn't play this game or read the novels it was based on, because you'll completely miss the message they send. It'll go right over your head.
Spend a year or two doing some massive research into the Holocaust, especially what happened in Poland, and THEN play the game and read the novels, and THEN remember that the author who created this: was a Polish Jew who as a small child, saw his friends and family murdered, and then you'll understand why he wrote what he wrote.
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UPDATE March 17, 2021: Another death. Waiting for a coffin to be delivered. Funeral the 21st. Unlikely to be streaming for a few weeks.
................
Update: March 27, 2021: It's not even been a week since the funeral, and now there is another death and another funeral.
............
UPDATE April 5, 2021: There are still no streams, as, we've now a another (a 3rd) funeral to prepare for.
And that is now 3 deaths in our family, in the past 2 weeks.
This 3rd death hits hard, because it was Pippi.
Our family has now had 13 deaths since March 2020.
April 10, 2015, 12 children were kidnapped.
May 15, 2015, the heads of 10 of them were nailed to my door.
August 24, 2020, one was found still alive. he was just 4 years old when she was kidnapped, but she remembered us, even though 5 years had passed.
August 25, 2020, Pippi came home, but her condition was not well. She had been tortured the entirety of the 5 years she had been held hostage. She was missing limbs and covered with scars, had broken bones many years not set, and suffered serious damage to many of her internal organs. That she was alive at all, in her condition, was a miracle. Doctors had little hope of her survival and she was sent home with Hospice care.
Pippi had cancer in her eye and needed surgery for it, which she was scheduled to have, shortly before she was kidnapped.
In the years they had her, not only did they torture her, but her cancer went untreated and spread to her brain.
By the time she was returned to us, her cancer had reached an inoperable state, so we knew she did not have much time left.
Had her cancer been treated, back when she was a toddler, she probably would have reach adulthood.
She died only 8 months after her return.
Another child, to cry out from the grave, for Etiole's vengeance upon her murderers. Another victim of evil men, who will stoop to no ends, to bury the crimes they committed 50 years ago. Drug lords. Opium growers. Heroine dealers. Selling little girls 4 to 8 years old for sex to priests. They only care about money.
All hail the mighty tourist ass. Millions come to Old Orchard Beach every year, for one thing and one thing only: heroine. They sell their drugs to the tourists under the pier and off the balconies of that giant motel. Than drag little girls to the bedrooms of the condominiums on Smithwheel Road, behind the school. And any child who dares open their mouth and beg for help, gets tossed in the GooseFare Brooke Ravine.
Bastard drug lords. They've been doing this for 50 years, and the town hall and the police department, turn a blind eye to it, because they get paid $6million a year to not report it to the newspapers, when the body of another child washes down the ravine, into the gulley to be spit out in the ocean. No fewer than 5 bodies are found every summer, but how often does it get in the news?
The corruption of this fucking town needs to end.
Yet another dead at the hands of these criminals who run our town.
How long will the residents continue to turn a blind eye to what is happening in our town.
How many more children will you let them kill, before you stand up to them?
Another child is dead and no one in this town cares. So long as they get their money from the tourists. The blood of another murdered child screams from the graves, begging for justice. Tick tock, tick tock, so begins, yet another of Etiole's 7 year clocks.
This is why there were no/to few streams from May 2020 until now.
May 2020, after 4 years of not hearing from them at all, the FBI returned with a lead, which led to Pip's discovery a few weeks later in August.
Because of the nature of the situation, I could not talk about it, to tell you why streams had stopped.
The kidnappers, were enraged that we had recovered Pip, and that is when the attacks started up again on my home and family September 2020.
Pip's condition continued to grow worse, and she died April 5, 2021.
She was only 10 years old.
This is what it means, to not be white in America.
White men, won't even give a child the chance to grow up.
This is what white people do, to none white families like mine.
We are Gypsies with Jewish blood, for that alone we are hunted like animals.
What the men of Old Orchard Beach, Maine, did to my family, will never be forgotten or forgiven.
#If you have any information on the kidnappers or the murders...
#FBI Agent Andy Drewer out of the Portland, Maine FBI office is in charge of the of the April 10, 2015 kidnapping of my 12 children by 14 Ku Klux Klan men who invaded our home and the subsequent May 15, 2015 murder of 10 of the 12 whom had their heads nailed to my front door. If you have information about the case, give it to him not me. He can be reached @ +1-(207)-774-9322
Have you forgot the extent of the damage these people did, all because, they wanted to dig up my land and removed bodies buried there, before my house builders found that barrel of bones?
Have you forgotten that 7 town hall workers, 5 public works men, a blond woman, her bald son, and her red haired sister Kendra, and 14 police officers, all lead by a man they referred to as "Mark who needs no last name" were the ones
I name every one of them, except for the ring leaders: blond woman, her bald son, her sister Kendra, and her husband "Mark who needs no last name". I don't know who those 4 are. I'd never seen any of them, other than the Kendra woman before, and I only knew her fro her attacks beating me up at Panera in 2009, 2010, and 2013.
I can name every one of the others, because all I have to do is go to the Old Orchard Beach town hall and police department website, and their are their faces.
With the exception of blond woman, her bald son, her sister Kendra, and her husband "Mark who needs no last name", every one else involved was government official who works for the state of Maine vis the Old Orchard Beach Town Hall, the Old Orchard Beach Police Department, or the Old Orchard Beach Public Works.
And what exactly did they do?
August 8, 2013 they drove a backhoe over my house. That same backhoe drove over my previous house on the same land April 2007. That same backhoe drove over my poultry barn and horse stables July 2001. July 2001 was the first attack.
March 2015 was the the massive attack, with an entire fleet of trucks, and drove over the Church of the Holy Rhinstone, a church that stood on my land, my garage which is why I no longer have a garage to put my car in, my 2 sheds both of which had my tractors and other garden/crop machinery in them at the time. And of course the razing of the land, the cutting down of the apple orchard - the VERY apple orchard planted in 1530 that this town was named after... he actual "old orchard" of Old Orchard Beach... the very original trees - huge massive apple trees over 400 years old. The grape vineyards, the cherry trees, the pears trees.
April 10, 2015, they returned, 4 police officer held me a gun point, while 10 other police officers held my children down with long poles with metal wire strangle loops on the end, and beat their faces in with cinder block bricks, knocking out every one of their teeth, breaking their jaws... POLICE OFFICERS DID THAT... while men they referred to as "Mark who needs no last name" and "Dan" stood there and told the police officers what to do, how to beat them, while "Mark who needs no last name" boldly bragged that he paid the Old Orchard Beach police $6million dollars to do this.
May 15, 2015... the heads, hands, feet, and intestines of my children were nailed to my door. Later that same day police officer W. W. came to my home begging for forgiveness and claimed that men he referred to only as "Mark and Dan" were holding his beloved mother-in-law hostage and torturing her, and he helped in the April 10, 2015 attack, only to save her life and get her back. He claimed he had no prior knowledge of what was going to happen, claiming that he'd been told they were only going to "scare" us. He said he had not expected anyone to get hurt, he had not known my children would be tortured and kidnapped, he had not known they were going to be murdered. He said he was scared for his life and lives of his family. And he said: "They form a small army, our department doesn't have enough man power to stop them, and every one in this town is too scared to fight back. You don't know what's going on. And I think they mixed you up with someone else. They didn't know you were the owner of this land. They didn't know that was your motorhome. They thought someone else owned this place. It wasn't even your family they were after. You were the wrong target. You don't know who these people are. What they've done to our families. This is the actual Mafia. The real deal. I'm so sorry. This is the address they sent us to. But they had a different name as the owner. This wasn't supposed to happen. They were after someone else. I'm so sorry. I couldn't let my family died. And now yours is dead instead. This wasn't supposed to happen."
June 19, 2016... I did a very specific livestream. You see... A., D., B., and T. in the 1970s and 1980s, were in the habit of dragging big black trash bags into the forest, crossing my land to do it, and dumping those bags into the Goosefare Brook Ravine. In 1983, 3 snuck into Etiole's swamp and planted 3 acres of Marijuana. Someone found it and called the police, I don't know who... it was Maine's largest drug raid for decades. Many, many millions in plants where dug up and removed from Etiole's swamp. A few weeks later A, & D,s 10 year old daughter ran into my yard, touched my car on a dare from other children - the 1964 Dodge 330 former Old Orchard Beach police car, known by Stephen King fans as the REAL Christine, The World's Most Haunted Car... than jumped her bike, and sped down the road, as fast as she could, head on into a car coming the other way. She died instantly, he brain shattered all over the end of my driveway, and her mother A responded by the Battle of 458 - the biggest mass shooting ever in Maine history, that ended up with 3 Gypsy clans and 2 police departments, in a shoot out between 70+ adults all armed with guns. One of my cousins, an 8 year old boy, standing 3 feet from me, had his eye shot out by one of the bullets. While A ran around the street screaming: "FOUR! FIVE! EIGHT!" than shot another child.
"FOUR! FIVE! EIGHT!" than shoot another child.
"FOUR! FIVE! EIGHT!" than shoot another child.
THOSE are the 31 children, whose bones were sawed up and tossed into the GooseFare Brook Ravine... yes, that DOES mean, police officers KNEW those children were there and covered it up. And I witnessed that entire event.
And THAT is WHY... when police officers murdered my family in 2015, I did a livestream, walking to the ravine, to show the world, where those bones were... because I'm sick and tired of the police corruption in this fucking town, and those sawed up bones of 31 children are PROOF of what this town government is like.... as are the heads of my children that were nailed to my door.
At the end of The Battle of 4-5-8... A. took 2 gas cans and poured them all over the big dome house, than set a match to it, and no one knew, why when she did her brother B., started running, jumped in his robin egg blue truck and backed down the driveway, hit Portland Ave doing 70 and didn't stop driving until the high speed chase caught him in CT... oh but we knew before he was out of sight, why he started running... the dome house went up like Hiroshima into a mushroom cloud that could be seen across the entire state... turns out there was a Meth lab in that house.
June 19, 2016... the livestream of the bones went viral, it's what made my YouTube channel suddenly explode overnight... and police officer W.W. upset, by the fact that, the livestream included the entire police call and response, and that response was to laugh and do nothing... fed up with the corruption in his department, he forwarded that livestream VOD to the FBI, and the FBI arrived in Old Orchard Beach, to dig up the Reclaim Blueberry Plains, and all hell broke lose in this town, as most of the police officers suddenly found themselves arrested. An entire new police force from out of state was brought in to replace the long time officers who had proven they could be trusted to uphold the law. Many town hall officials and public works employees also found themselves arrested by the FBI.
June 26, 2016... barely a week later... the blond woman and the red haired Kendra woman showed up at my workplace, Scarborough WalMart, and tried to kill me, yet again... these are the same 2 woman who attacked me with golf clubs at Southern Maine Community College November 14, 2013... they left dead in 2013, I was paralized for 5 months. It took me 18 months to relearn to walk. I was out of the wheel chair, and I was without a walker, I was without a cane. I had almost fully covered from their November 14, 2013 attack with golf clubs... June 26, 2016, this time they attacked with shopping carts, and I'm now crippled for the rest of my life. They shattered 3 vertebra this time and it can't be operated on. I had to relearn to walk a second time, and I'm not yet recovered now in 2021. In 2013 they drove away in the 4 door white pickup truck. In 2016 they drove away in a gold Volvo SUV station wagon.
That blond woman and her red haired Kendra sister, they are wanted by the FBI for attempted murder of me and they are also wanted in questioning for being suspected of also being the murderers of my children.
I don't know who these 2 women are.
The blond woman shows up my driveway frequently, screaming and yelling, sometime accompanied by a small child, about 5 years old, that she pulls behind her in a red radio flyer wagon. She looks to be about 60 or 70. She often wears a denim button down shirt and jeans. She's prone to yelling at passing cars, while pointing up my driveway, and saying: "There's EelKat, she tried to kill my husband."
I've never tried to kill anyone, so accusation is baffling at best.
She seems to think I know who she is, and has made the claim, that "I was that brat in school"... the red haired Kendra woman, sometimes with her, claims to be her sister, also appears to be 60 to 70 and also seems to think I know who she is, and frequently says: "You bullied me in school, but no more, I'm Kendra SilverMander it's my turn to shine."
They BOTH make the claim they went to school with me, and yet, I never went to school, a well documented fact... because I'm the child the FBI rescued what the news media called "Maine's House of Horrors". I was locked in a cage when I was 8 years old. I was let out on Sundays, to go to church, and not allowed to speak or make eye contact with anyone, and this was only done infrequently, whenever church goers asked what happened to that girl you had". I was 31 years old when the FBI arrived, because of Heaven's Gate having killed 39 people, and my uncle being one of the members and self proclaiming himself as the leader of Heaven's Gate after Applewhite's death. The FBI was investigating the murder of 39 people in California, and had no idea they'd find children in cages in Maine as a result.
So you see, when the blond woman and her Kendra sister, make the claim they went to school with me and I was the class bully who beat them up, this is easily proven false, because the time period when I should have been in school, I was locked in a cage, being tortured by my sadistic uncle Bruce.
Also, they are in their late 60s to mid 70s... making them older than my parents, so how could I have been in school with them, even if I had gone to school? At best I would have been starting pre-school the year they would have been graduating high school.
These things they say about school, only further agrees with what police officer W. W. said May 15, 2015, when he made the claim, they had gotten me mixed up with someone else.
July 2016, a month after the shopping cart attack... yet another Old Orchard Beach police officer arrived, this one accompanied by 2 Biddeford officers, who had been former OOB officers... these 3 officers, had a vastly eye opening story to tell me.
They had been called to Old Orchard Beach, to my farm, to arrest me, a call made to them, by a man named Mark, whom one of these officers, claimed was his brother in law. This Biddeford officer, said he requested to transfer ot of Old Orchard Beach department years ago, because his sister (whom he claimed he suspected, but could not prove was the blond woman whom had attacked me at WalMart) was quote "trying to control the town" he said "treats Old Orchard Beach like a dynasty, thinks she's a duchess, has severe mental disorders, and thought she could buy the police department". He went on to say, she got in with the real Mafia years ago and went to her head, and now she thinks she IS the Mafia and most of Old Orchard Beach's business owners, especially the motel owners are scared shitless of her, because they believe her claim to be Mafia. He went on to say, she's not Mafia, but she's good at convincing people she is and stated "I wouldn't murder beyond her. She'd do it just to prove she is Mafia." He said he transferred out of OOB department to Biddeford department because he was fed up with how easy it was for her to get every officer to do anything she asked. He said "the corruption in that department runs deep; don't cross her or any officer she controls; they WILL kill you and every around you. You don't know who her husband is. He doesn't just control that town, he controls half the state."
What he was telling me was bizarre on extremes, but even more bizarre was the live feed radio call, that he had me listen too, as it was happening, on my farm in Old Orchard, while I was at my dad's house in Biddeford.
He said: "The Old Orchard Department called me, asked me to come over here. Buddy Will wanted to prove you were not in Old Orchard and that Mark has you mixed up with someone else. That fucking bastard is crying wolf and trying to frame you, we can prove it right now. We are fucking fed up WolfBoy."
He turned on his radio, so I could hear. A what I heard... a man whose voice I do not recognize, yelling at a Officer W.W. and saying:
"That is Wendy, arrest her now! That is EelKat. She tried to kill me."
While officer W.W. and another officer, told the man: "his isn't Wendy. We have officers with her right now. Who tried to kill you? Wendy? Or THIS woman right here?"
"This woman right here! This is EelKat I tell you! Arrest her! What do you think I pay you for! You aren't allow to defy me! I own this town! You are my slaves. I command you to arrest her!"
W.W.: "This isn't EelKat. This isn't Wendy. I've known her for years. And right now, she's on the other side of the state. With 3 officers, listening to you right now. You are NOT the law. We've had it with you. You don't own me. And you've mixed her up with someone else. You've been harassing the wrong damned person. You dare call us about Wendy ever again, and I will personally arrest you for false reports, than I'll tell them everything. You'll never see the outside a prison for the rest of your life when I get done with you. You fucking leave this woman alone. You destroyed her life, because you couldn't tell her apart from someone else."
I used to aqua jog, mountain climb, horseback riding, and I hiked 13 miles a day. And in the blink of an eye, that lifestyle was taken away, and every day was struggle, just to sit up and breath, with no hope of ever walking again. I defied doctors. It's been 8 years and I can move around the house by holding on to things and I now can walk again, at the moment only short distances outside with a cane, and the hope is to continue to improve. I still have a long road of recovery ahead. But I'm walking again, something that 8 years ago, doctors said would never happen.
My farm was razed.
My family was murdered.
I was 5 months paralysed, and had to relearn to walk. It was 8 years ago and I'm not yet fully recovered due to 3 inoperable vertebrae and hip dysplasia. November 14, 2013, 10PM, at WalMart, while putting bags of groceries in the back seat of my car, I was attacked by 3 rapists armed with metal golf clubs, who left me parallelized, in a wheel chair, broken spine, broken hip, broken pelvis, broken knees, serve nerve damage to my left side limiting the use of my left hand, my bladder incontinent from nerve damage, they left me for dead, and I had doctors telling me I would never walk again.
There's more that has happened. A lot more. The thousands of gallons of sewage they pumped into my motorhome in 2015. The cats. the Ptarmagin cats. World famous groups of cats. You remember them. If so, you remember what these people did to those cats. Poisoned. All dead the same day. 12 cats. Dead to what the vet described as: "enough poison to kill a great dane". My horse, she had her head beat in with a rock. My bantam roosters... 70 pet roosters, hung by their necks in rope nooses in my rose bushes.
All because this man, this mystery Mark, whose last name seems to be known to the police but is still unknown to me and man whom I've never seen or met - he keeps his face covered whenever he shows up... mistook me for someone else... and police officers and town hall workers and public work employees.
Welcome to Old Orchard Beach... this is NOT the way life should be, you know it.
What these people did to me, should never have happened, and according to the police, it's been happening for 50+ years to hundreds of people, hundreds of families, in this town, and every one is too scare to talk about it or fight back to stop it. That NEEDS to change.
The corruption in our town, needs to stop... but it won't end, until every last person who is being harassed by these people stand up, put their foot down, and say enough is enough, we ain't gonna take this any more.
We the people of Old Orchard Beach need to take back our town.
NOTE: Chat is set to emote only on my Twitch channel and my personal contact information has been removed from my website and every place else, due to the HUNDREDS OF THOUSANDS of false reports of "information", along with vile hateful memes about the murder of my family being sent to me by trolls who think mocking the murder of my family is funny.
FBI Agent Andy Drewer out of the Portland, Maine FBI office is in charge of the of the April 10, 2015 kidnapping of my 12 children by 14 Ku Klux Klan men who invaded our home and the subsequent May 15, 2015 murder of 10 of the 12 whom had their heads nailed to my front door. If you have information about the case, give it to him not me. He can be reached @ +1-(207)-774-9322
This one....
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Please be aware that nearly every page on this website contains spoilers to something. I talk about a lot of fandoms, and go into great detail analyzing them when I do. If I am talking about The Witcher series, InuYasha, Disney Ducks, the Quaraun series, or any other fandom, you WILL encounter spoilers about it.
April 19, 2012
"You've credited the ocean for being one of the best sources of ideas for writing. You recommended that if I had writer's block that I go to the beach and become one with the ocean, and that living walking distance from the ocean was my best bet for curing writer's block. Well, I tried all that and I got nothing. What does living near the ocean give you? Why is living near the ocean so great? How does living near the ocean give you writing ideas? I don't see what it is you are seeing because I still have writer's block and am not getting any ideas. Could you please explain how I'm to get ideas from the ocean? "
What does living near the ocean give me? Why is living near the ocean so great? I love the ocean. I was born and raised on the ocean, by people who likewise were born and raised on it, for many, many generations. The ocean is in my blood. What does it give me? Shells to collect, peace of mind at the end of the day, serenity, beauty, a sense of place. The ocean waves crashing ‘round my body are like hugs from an old friend. Why is it so great? The sights, the feels, the sounds, the smells. The glistening blue, the cloudy green, the deadly grey, sand in my toes, sand in my hair, the cleansing salty grit contrasting with the frigid cold wetness, the cry of the gulls, the screams of the loons, the shrill call of the killdeer, the salty, misty, musty fog, drenched is hints of seaweed and crab. I love my ocean in all it’s glory.
The ocean inspires some of my best writing. Inspiration, that is what the ocean gives me. It can inspire me to write soft beautiful romance, with its hot summer days and lovers in the sand; or it can inspire me to write simple stories of the simple joys of children building sandcastles while puppies chase frisbees in the gentle surf. I could write those things, most people do, it’s not very hard, I have done it before, but more often than not, I don’t.
Dark brooding stories of blood and death. Drowning victims, bodies
washing up along the shore, mermen strangling young women with seaweed,
monsters from the deep surfacing to swallow you whole, tourists trapped
at hide tide, dashed to death on the rocks, falling from the slippery
cliffs to lay shattered on in a shell lined grave bones picked clean by
gulls and crabs. That’s what I write.
I could write about seaside carnivals, I often do. But what side of the carnival to I choose? Happy. Joyful. Couples laughing on the ferris wheel overlooking the Pier? Children their faces sticky with cotton candy, waiting in line to ride the Shooting Stars? Or their demise, as darkness falls, and moon rises over the cool black waters, revealing the ride operators for what they truly are: brain sucking zombies, the carnival a trap to lure in tourists for food, like sheep to the slaughter.
Why do I write, the dark things I write? Why does the ocean inspire such terror?
Since
1978 I have written 200+ short stories, 2,000+ articles, a couple of
comic book scripts, a few dozen short play scripts, 5,000+ blog posts,
several dozen sermons, countless political rants on the injustice of *insert current political topic I’m ranting about here*,
and a few books on folklore, alien abduction, cryptozoology, fulltime
RVing, and life on the streets. The ocean takes center stage in all of
it.
I write every day. That’s 31 years
of writing every day, or 11,315 days of writing on average 7,000 words a
day, except during The National Novel Writing Month contest when I
write on average 15,000 words a day for 30 days. I’ve already written
more than 7,000 pieces on a range of topics, and the ocean takes the
lead in nearly every one, not simply as scenery, but as an ever imposing
character, overbearing and bearing down on everyone it crosses.
Darkness, sci-fi, gore and horror; once in awhile the occasional romance
gone very horribly wrong. I could have done none of this without my
ocean.
Most folks look at the ocean
and see warm summer days, children, laughter, lovers, family vacations,
and fun in the sun. I look at the ocean and write pages dripping with
blood.
Why do I write what I write? My readers ask me this all
the time. Perhaps the question itself is the answer to which I seek.
Maybe we can answer this question and get this assignment written at the
same time, by looking at two questions my readers have sent me:
QUESTION #1:
“You are such a prolific writer, you seem to be able to write about anything. I wish I could write like that, but I never know what to write about. Where do you get your ideas?”
“Where do you get your ideas?” It’s one of the most asked questions I hear. The answer is simple, I get my ideas from the ocean, and not just any ocean, mind you, but the Atlantic Ocean, specifically, the cold North Atlantic along the coast of Maine, usually, specifically Old Orchard Beach, though in the Twighlight Manor stories, Old Orchard Beach has had Otter Cove, The Thunder Hole, Quechee Gorge, and The Flume all dropped into it. You will not find gorges, waterfalls, caves, or neck breaking cliffs in the real Old Orchard Beach. I take great artistic liberty with grabbing natural places from all over the world and dropping them down in Old Orchard at random.
QUESTION #2:
“Is Old Orchard Beach a real place? Why are all your stories set in this town?”
Yes, it is a very real place. The Town of Old Orchard, Maine (originally known as The Garden By the Sea, Quebec, until 1821 when Maineland, Quebec was stolen by America, ripped off of Canada, remained Maine and declared a very reluctant American-hating territory of The United States), is the actual name. Old Orchard Beach, is not the name of the town, but rather is a 7 mile long beach which stretches from Biddeford, through Saco, running the whole length of Old Orchard, and ending in Pine Point/Scarborough.
I was born and raised in Old Orchard, Maine, as were both my parents. My father’s grandfather George Ricker, was the first fire chief, and his many times great-uncle, Thomas Rogers, settled the town in 1548, and I still live on that original piece of land. One branch of my family literally built this town. This is more than just a town, it’s my family's personal history.
No, I don’t set my stories anywhere else. I have agoraphobia. I’ve never been anywhere else.
I have Autism. I write what I know, and this town is the town I know. I know this beach, it’s every curve and wave. I know what it’s like to stand on the shore with a 70MPH hurricane whipping all around me, my skin covered in tiny glass cuts caused by the blast of sand. I know what it is to stand on the shore during a February snow squall, with temperatures -48F.
Locals call me “The Sea Witch of Old Orchard Beach”, a title they give me, not because I am a witch (I'm not a witch at all), but rather a title they get me because they are simply scared shittless of the "crazy woman" who lives in the woods with 200 cats and is rarely ever seen in public.When I am seen in public my inability ro speak (Autism) and my "outlandish clothes" (I'm a life actor) result in awe and terror at the "strange create" that "has emerged from the Ross Forest to stroll on our beach" (words of the Town Manager Jim Thomas in 2007, who accussed me of not only witchcraft but also of being a junx and a poltergiest, claiming that every time I set foot on the beach bad things happened and a lot of people died. Strange hysterical, superstitious man, Jim Thomas was. He's gone now).
My mental, spiritual, and emotional connection with this beach is unfathomable. Here is where I meditate, pray, commune with the spirits. I know the tides, the snails, the sandpipers, the gulls, the tourists. The French Canadians in Speedos, the elderly Floridians in straw hats, the fast talking New Yorkers. The deafening sound of the fireworks, every Thursday night mingled with the crashing waves. The pitch black of night and the thick choking fog rolling in and blotting out every sight, soaking your clothes wetter than a pouring rain, and filling your nostrils with the pungent smell of uprooted seaweed and dead crab. Once in awhile we get the excitement of watching the Coast Guard dredging for dead bodies washed down from the Saco River.
Dead bodies wash up on the beach more often than town officials would like to admit, 5 a year, not uncommon, never less than 3, as many as 10 some years. Not just bodies washing down from the river. People drown in the gully. Parents turn their back on toddlers, letting them swim alone in the gully. Locals don’t go near the gully. They know better. Tourists don’t care. The tourists don’t think about it, I wonder if they even know the danger they are in, should be in the gully, when tide come roaring back in? Do the read the warning signs? Clearly posted, in bright red letters. Swim at your own risk. Dangerous riptide. No swimming after dark. No one thinks about it. Not even when the bodies wash ashore. Neighboring towns don’t care. The papers never say where the body was found, only where it fell in, in some little town no one ever heard of deep in the forests of Northern Maine.
No one knows the dark side of Old Orchard Beach. They see the signs, but no one cares. Danger. Warning. Beware. Riptides. Stay behind the fence. No swimming after dark. Tourists ramble past, not giving the signs a second glance. Why should they bother read a sign? They are here for fun in the sun on their great big family vacation. We don’t want to think about the dangers. Who cares that we’ll be flying one of our own back home in a coffin. It’s the beach, I’m here to swim. They come. They swim. They die. It’s the same thing every year. Tourists are stupid. They have no respect for the ocean and the dangers it brings.
The only people who really know the dark side of our beach, are those of us, fewer than 2,000 year round residents, who live here on it and actually see the Coast Guard pulling up the bodies. The red and white helicopters, big red ships, little red dignies, yellow police tape closing off the beach....”Nothing to see here, folks, nothing to see,” say the soldiers as they push back the crowds. For many years I have sat in my bedroom window watching bodies being pulled out of the gully, wrapped in red body bags, and loaded into Coast Guard helicopters. There’s a reason why no one who lives here on the beach, actually swims in the ocean. We know the danger. We’re right off the Saco River delta so, any body that falls in the river from here to Canada, is eventually going to wash up on our beach. The Great Saco River and its infamous Saco River Curse. World’s most haunted river. Claims more bodies than any other. And here is where it dumps them. The Saco River coughs up bodies on our beach, like a cow coughing up its cud.
The Saco River Curse is a local legend based on a strange and unexplained series of deaths that have occurred here at the Saco River Delta where the river meets the Atlantic Ocean. The history of the Saco River Curse goes like this:
The York family moved to Saco (Maine) and built a house on the tiny island overlooking a huge waterfall where the Saco River dumps into the Atlantic Ocean. They named the place York Manor of York Hill. On the other side of the river was Saco Island (today known as Factory Island at the Memorial Bridge Crossing). On Saco Island lived a tribe of Native American Indians who worshiped or rather feared a local river demon, Memegwesi, a type of Faerie or water dwelling trickster. On the mainland just a few hundred yards away, was the port where sailors docked (and still dock to this day - and is where I park my Volvo when you hear me talk of parking on York Hill when I visit my dad at his Biddeford apartment).
One night, in 1547, three drunken sailors rowed across the river to Saco Island, kidnapped a baby from the Indian tribe, than rowed across to York Hill, where they threw the baby into the waterfall, claiming that Indians were born able to swim, thus it would survive the fall. The baby's mother followed desperately after them, and jumped into the falls trying to save her baby. Both the mother and the baby were crushed to death on the rocks below. The husband/father was also the tribe's medicine man/witch-doctor/shaman/holy man. Infuriated at the white men for killing his wife and child, he went to the waterfall and called upon the river demon asking it to punish the white men, by killing three white men in the waterfall of York Hill, every year for eternity, so that no one would ever forget what these men had done to his beloved wife and child. To date, no year has passed since with less than 3 deaths in the waterfall at the Saco River Delta on York Hill.
Marquis de La Fayette, resided here during the American Revolution. A vast fort was built on the islands surrounding York Hill. The English Lobsterbacks were rumored to have meet a watery grave at the hands of the river’s demon. Local Fisherman claimed we had won the war against England because the Memegwesi it had been English soldiers who’d killed the baby so long ago.
By the late 1700’s church groups began congregating on York Hill, some claiming to have encounters with not a demon, but rather an angel, others claiming communication with the spirits of long dead Indian chiefs, some claiming Faerie communications, at least one claimed to talk to men from the sun, another said a man from Venus, and some began to call the Memegwesi “The White Salamander” (Salamander being a type of Welsh shapeshifting Faerie), while still others gathered to bless the river and exorcise its demon. Hundreds of attempts were made to remove the curse, and more than 200 new (mostly short lived) religions sprung up and were found here in Saco Bay. The most famous of these were “The Community of Christ”, "The Society of Free Brethren and Sisters”, “The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints” (aka The Mormon Church), “The Salvation Army” and “The Shakers” all of which still exist to this day.
By the 1800’s our little haunted river, with its white sands beach, had begun receiving tourists. During the Civil War, Abraham Lincoln came to Saco Island, hoping to get a glimpse of the river’s “Old Indian Ghost”. His visit would inspire folks to on those new fangled things known as locomotives, for the purpose of ghost hunting in Maine. This spot has been a hotbed for ghost hunters ever since.
In the early 1800's the fort was turned into a huge mill factory on Saco Island, and the death toll skyrocketed, as a transvestite serial killer took advantage of the curse and took to rapeing mill girls and then tossing them in the waterfall. The most famous of these murders was the infamous Bean Murder of Factory Island, which resulted in the capture of the abortion doctor who had made a habit of pretending to be a mill girl in order to kill all the women who'd had an abortion. He pleaded that he had been possessed by the river demon and got off with hardly any punishment, only a few months of hard labor, in spite of having been wanting in suspicion of having killed over a dozen young women.
Stories of ghosts haunting the house began to rise. In the late 1800's York Manor was torn down by terror crazed locals who were convinced that the house was haunted by the ghost of the father/husband/medicanman. They believed that tearing down the house would end the curse. The remains of the house were saved, however and the house was rebuilt elsewhere in Saco, where it stands today, in its new giant Victorian apartment building form, next door to the church on Smith Street, behind the Amato's, beside the RiteAid, across the street from Thornton Academy. That big yellow Victorian mansion, is what was once, many years ago, known as the York Manor the cursed haunted house of York Hill. Removing the house from the island, removed the curse from the house, which has had no farther hauntings since it’s move.
In the early-1900's, with the death toll now toppling the thousands, locals decided that it was not the house, but the river itself, which was cursed, and that the only way to end the curse was to destroy the waterfall. Which they did. They tore down the rocks and poured a cement dam in an attempt to stop the flow of the river. All they succeeding in doing was flooding what is now downtown Saco and downtown Biddeford, resulting in the twin sister streets on each town, being renamed “Water St”. By the 1960s where the waterfall once stood, was built a functioning dam and the CMP hydroelectric power station now sits where once sat York Manor at the peak of York Hill across from the Saco Train Station.
Today the tiny Saco River Dam at York Hill, hardly 20 feet wide, is considered the most haunted dam in the world, with a higher death toll than any other dam/waterfall in the world. At a recorded rate of no less than 3 men drowned every year for over 500 years, the death toll is now over 2,000 men (not including women and children) killed on York Hill since 1547. No year has passed with less than 3 white men killed by falling into the dam, and most years 5 death occur, while some years there have been as many as 10 deaths. I have personally seen years with as many as 12 deaths. For centuries fishermen feared go out in Saco Bay in early Spring, instead waiting for 3 men to drown that year, before letting any boat touch the water. Even today no local fisherman will drop his boat in Saco Bay, until after 3 deaths have passed. Every year, they wait. They never wait long. This year, 2012, they only had to wait til March, before the Saco River took its toll: a man beheaded by the train on the rail bridge over York Hill Dam, a boy fell off the dam into the water below just a few feet away, and a whole family missed the turn and perished as their car sailed over the bridge into a watery grave below. My dad lives at the apartment on Water St overlooking the river. We see the Coast Guard dredging for bodies and police rerouting traffic away from Memorial Bridge, several times each year. In spite of the church groups and prayer warriors, who still to this day, are pouring holy oil and tossing rose wreaths off the bridge every June 26th, we have reached 2012, with the curse is still going strong, and the little white crosses along the banks of the river stretching ever onward.
And that is the Saco River Curse.
The Saco River. The river which feeds the Saco Bay Delta. The beautiful beach in the Saco Bay Delta, known to the tourists as The Great Old Orchard Beach, home of the Guinness World Record Plaque which reads “The World’s Finest Sand”. Tourists stop and oogle at the plague, exclaiming, “Oh, look at that! It was voted the best beach!” No. It was not. Scientists trying to explain a rational reason behind the phenomenon that is known as the Saco River Curse, came in and tested the sand, and marveled when they discovered the smallest aka “the finest” grains of sand known to man. Farther up river they found some of the sharpest edged rocked in the world, at the base of York Hill, and during a winter storm, Saco Bay churns up some of the deadliest and coldest waves in the world. It it any wonder that an iceberg took out The Pier in 1917 and another iceberg crashed on shore in 1941 or that a town with 2million summer residents has only 1,800 winter residents and is a virtual ghost town with stores shut down and buildings boarded up? World’s finest beach at the mouth of the world’s most haunted river? Yes, and for a damned good reason. Our beautiful beach. Our beautiful river. It’s dark haunted past, has not demons and curses, but raging white water rapids, a roaring riptide, and wild winter storms to blame.
One can not live on the edge of the ocean at the mouth of this monstrous river, without being affected by the river which feeds the bay. Each year tourists come in millions. The packs and herds, they flock to our shores in droves. Our beautiful, deadly, dark, bloody beach. They come and go oblivious, so few ever know. And then they read my books, and ask in utter horror, Why? Why do you write this great wonderful place, in such a dark, horrid light? How could this place of utter beauty inspire you to write such utter horror? How? Why? Because I know this beach. I know this river. I know the dangers that lay in wait. I know the deeper story, the one you do not see. You see the surface beauty of the crystal blue waters, but I see the deep dark truth, that lay in the rocks below. You come and go. I live here every day. You see only its natural beauty. I see it’s every drop.
People think it’s creepy, my morbid fascination with this little known dark side of this beach. Every town has its secrets. Little skeletons in the closet. The Town of Old Orchard depends on The Old Orchard Beach, and its 2million yearly tourists to survive. It’s a ghost town in the dead of winter, businesses boarded up, homes shuttered, fewer than 2,000 residents by the time snow falls. This town needs tourists to survive. You think the tourists would come swim on a beach that spits up a few dozen dead bodies each and every year? Town officials go, hush, hush, not too loud, we don’t want to scare away the income. So the tourist come with their money, and a few must die to keep our town alive. Only the locals know our beach’s dark little secret.
I love this beach. Everything about it, the good, the bad, the ugly, the utterly unmentionably horrible. It is raw, unforgiving, unpredictable, wild, untamed, mesmerizing, beautiful. I write horror. Vampires. Zombies. Ghosts. Farrdarigs. Phookas. RedCaps. Bloody, bloody Faeries and Mermen from the deep. Haunted mansions clinging to rocky cliffs threatening to throw themselves into the depths of the foaming waves. Bloodthirsty mermen, pulling their victims to cold watery graves. You only see this beach in the bright days of summer. Come back in the winter and see it frozen over. Come back in the fall and brave the blasts of wind, feel the sand as it slices through your tender skin. Come in the spring when you can see nothing for the fog. This cold, icy, foggy beach has atmosphere. The atmosphere here is the perfect setting for horror, especially the horror I write. You can look out over the fog and almost see the ghost ships, the vampires, the fish men from distant galaxies...it is the perfect setting for the dark, gloomy, brooding, bloody Poe-esk stories I like to tell. The beach is the story itself and I am the one it has chosen to tell its tale.
I didn’t choose this beach as a setting. It chose me. The stories come to me as I stand on the slick, jagged granite, listening to the gulls screaming bloody murder through the fog. The little hermit crabs scurry across my feet in search of dead rotted flesh, begging me to write of the murder victims the hide in the tidal pools. Looking down from the rocks, into the drop offs on the other side, the gleaming silver eyes of seals and fish peer up at you though the dancing kelp, but are they fish and seals, or mermen and selkies, lurking, waiting, starving, thirsting, for the unsuspecting human to venture too close to the edge. The tourist who washes up mangled on the shore, did they really slip and fall, or did a cold icy hand reach up from the deep, and yank them down under by the ankle? Beware foolish travelers. Beware of the deep. For little men lie in wait, your flesh they come to eat.
Where do I get my ideas? Everywhere. I just open my eyes, my ears, my heart...I look around me, I listen, I feel, I smell, I see, I touch, I taste, I empathize, and I write it all down. Every bit of it. I am what I write. I write what I am. Everywhere I go, the beach, the store, the library, here in college, there is something to see, something to hear, something to write. My life is where I get my ideas. That is how I choose my topics. I can write about anything, because the world is full of everything. But the ocean, my ocean, the riptides of Old Orchard Beach, nothing can set a fire under my pen, better than does my beloved white sands beach. I love my ocean. And so, when you ask the question, what does living near the ocean give me? This is what living near the ocean gives me. A blessing. A glory. A history. A curse. A horror. It is my inspiration. The gift to write of terrors, dark and deep. The ocean gives me my career, my life, my inspiration for all I do, for I am a writer, and tales of this ocean is what I write. I would have it no other way.