Now to be a real Debbie Downer! Here are some stats on the Gaza blockade, which has been in effect for the past three years. Perhaps most relevant are the food shortages: not only are 61 percent of Gazans “foods insecure,” but 80 percent of homes are dependent on food aid. Moreover, one third of children under five and women of childbearing age suffer from anemia, according to the World Health Organization. Although Abergil may be unaware of this fact, electronic items, including computers, are generally denied entry into Gaza.

Hey, at least the men with whom she posed will be spared the further humiliation of an virtual reunion with their captor. And you thought it sucked getting Facebook requests from those horrible people you went to high school with…

Where would an Israeli soldier get the idea that this was kosher? That it’s perfectly okay preen and pose with prisoners for your own amusement? Well, here in the U.S., college age kids are known to invade Mexican border towns over spring break, where they take pictures of themselves mock-raping inflatable burros, downing shots and snapping pics of insecure girls flashing their breasts. Pathetic, sure, but less legally damning.

Then there was Abu Ghraib, back in 2004. Remember those Iraqi prisoner abuse pics, memorably featuring a then-twenty-one-year-old Lynndie England? To her credit, Eden Abergil didn’t post any shots of her holding a leash attached to a naked, crawling man. She does not make the thumbs up sign behind human pyramids. There are no snaphots of her leering at men being forced to masturbate.

Moreover, there’s no evidence that Abergil did it to please a man, unlike England, who happily posed for the enjoyment of her now ex-boyfriend, Charles Graner In a half-assed defense of her reprehensible behavior, England remarked to an interviewer, “I didn’t want them. But he was so persistent. Go on! Just for me! If you loved me, you’d do it. I’m like, gee, OK just take the damned picture.”

I suppose it’s somewhat comforting to know that Abergil probably didn’t take her pictures for some fella’s titillation. Perhaps there’s more gender equality in a country with universal conscription. Sisters are doin’ it for themselves!

When Abergil was asked about the harm Israel’s international reputation could face as a result of her actions, she protested, “We will always be attacked. Whatever we do, we will always be attacked.”  For Abergil, the Geneva Conventions (to which Israel is a signatory) are major a killjoy when she’s having “the best time of my life” (as her IDF Facebook album is labeled).

There’s nothing wrong with violating international human rights standards of the people you’re occupying. It’s just good, healthy fun when you’re young.

“Any commissioned officer who uses contemptuous words against the President, the Vice President, Congress, the Secretary of Defense, the Secretary of a military department, the Secretary of Transportation, or the Governor or legislature of any State, Territory, Commonwealth, or possession in which he is on duty or present shall be punished as a court-martial may direct.”
–The United States Code of Military Justice

Let’s do a little thought exercise, shall we?

You’re the president of the United States of America, which, in addition to your other executive powers and responsibilities, means that you are the civilian leader of the US military. As Commander in Chief, you have a higher ranking than any member of the armed forces. According to the military’s staunchly-observed hierarchy (by which the entire apparatus functions), enlisted personnel may not, under any circumstances, insult, demean or ridicule a commanding officer. Nor are subordinates allowed to reject or thwart orders issued by a superior. To do so would be a gross dereliction of duty, rendering the perpetrator unfit to serve.

Still with me? Good.

You also happened to have taken the Oath of Office under particularly trying circumstances. Your predecessor managed to embroil the country in two protracted wars, at least one of which was entirely elective. This is in addition to a badly-damaged national economy, a ballooning deficit (3 trillion of which can be attributed to just one of the aforementioned conflicts), and an obstructionist minority party. Oh, and there’s also a huge-ass oil leak in the Gulf that refuses to be plugged.

The last thing you need is the general in charge of the most strategically significant of the two wars undermining your military policy. Especially when the shit-talker is the living embodiment of that policy, having repeatedly evangelized his counterinsurgency plan until you finally chose to implement it. Even with this particular conflict entering it’s most violent phase in nearly a decade, you remain committed to your general’s strategy. So much so that you’re willing to deal with ongoing squabbles between the more skeptical members of your administration and Pentagon brass.

Sounds kinda sucky, huh?

Well, that’s the exact situation President Obama finds himself in due to a story in Rolling Stone that shows a clearly disrespectful, if not insubordinate, General Stanley McChrystal. More telling are the remarks from the general’s staff, who cross enough lines to make an Army draftsman’s head spin.

According to the article:

McChrystal’s aid calls National Security Advisor James Jones a “clown.”

Another aide says of envoy Richard Holbrooke, “The Boss [McChrystal] says he’s like a wounded animal. Holbrooke keeps hearing rumors that he’s going to get fired, so that makes him dangerous.”

Bolstering that, McChrystal himself, receiving an email from Holbrooke says, “Oh, not another e-mail from Holbrooke. I don’t even want to read it.”

On Vice President Biden, who disagreed with the General’s strategy in Afghanistan, McChrystal says while laughing, “Are you asking me about Vice President Biden? Who’s that?” An aide, mirroring his boss, adds, “Biden? Did you say Bite me?”

Clearly, McChrystal’s team would not be as free with their color commentary if they thought the boss felt differently. It’s no exaggeration to call this an Epic Discipline FAIL.

And it can’t be good for the mission. In the RS piece, McChrystal registers frustration with an Afghanistan strategy that he not only architected, but aggressively pushed for. Apparently, it’s all Obama’s fault. So much for that famous military ethos of personal responsibility.

The article was hardly an exercise in “gotcha journalism.” according to RS editor Eric Bates, “They knew when we were on the record. They said a lot of stuff to us off the record that’s not in the story. We respected those boundaries. This was all when they knew they were on.”

Furthermore, McChrystal made no attempt to deny the veracity of any of the story’s quotes.

Bates has also said that the general has known about the article’s contents for the past two weeks, as he had been contacted during the magazine’s routine fact-checking.

Lots of folks are think that Obama should dismiss McChrystal, and not just liberals. Notorious hawk Henry Kissinger said earlier today that the president “should probably fire” the general. Its not like McChrystal is some populist superhero like General McCarthur, who was famously axed by President Truman. The war in Afghanistan does not enjoy broad public support, and even Republican congressional leaders recognize the futility of retaining an insubordinate general in the midst of major conflict.

The fact that McChrystal has apparently already offered to resign doesn’t make things any easier for Obama, who has pinned his entire Afghanistan strategy on the general’s lapel. Wild card or no, McChrystal is one of the few American officials who can seemingly communicate with Afghan president Hamid Karzai — an impossibly flaky leader who nonetheless is the sole political bulwark against Taliban intransigence.

We should know very soon whether or not McChrystal keeps his post. Until then, I might as well ask: what do you think Obama should do?

My journey has been one of photoshopped photographs, “ghost sounds” that were really pebbles thrown by other investigators and magicians’ assistants who tweaked EMF and K-II meters to light up like the Fourth of July. I have seen this behavior displayed by both weekend warriors and paranormal rock stars, each creating his or her own brand of falsification and misdirection.

A few noble personalities — such as John Zaffis, Kristyn Gartland, and Loyd Aurebach — stand out as honest folks, willing to share with me their truths (and myths). A candid conversation that I had with Dave Tango gave me some hope in a dying field. I assume these folks offered their views because they recognized a shared passion for the paranormal. They occupy a rare place in the industry as the few truthsayers in a field of hyperbole-prone, self-indulgent liars.

Then there are those tarnished and lost souls who pilfer and rape the paranormal, squeezing out every drop of it in pursuit of personal glory and sensationalism. They’re like the so-called “spirit photographers” and “mediums” of 19th century Spiritualism — taking money from Civil War widows armed with cheese cloth and papier mache masks. They are the people who stymie any validation that the field may garner from outsiders. They are fuel for skeptics and haters, and at this point, I can’t say I blame anyone for harboring negative views about the paranormal field.

It’s like meeting Babe Ruth, and he punches you in the face, sleeps with your mom, and eats all your candy.  And then you find out his bat is corked.

So, where do I go from here? Do I retire my fascinations and try to maintain what level of respect I have left for the field? Do I walk away from it, and just go back to the books that I’ve cherished since childhood? Or do I go all Fugazi on this bitch and DIY a new group that’s more iconoclastic in approach and definition? Do I even have the energy to even attempt that?

I’m not sure if I am willing to sacrifice a childhood love anymore than I already have.

Well well, Mr. Richardson, the cat’s out of the bag. Looks like you’ll have to put the snake back in the basket. As of this post, Terry Richardson, fashion photog/enfant terrible has been involved in enough controversy that his Wikipedia page is one long scandal sheet. Hardly any references to his work or style remain, and frankly, isn’t it about time?

By now, the bleached-out, candid-style photography popularized by the likes of Dash Snow have fully permeated the culture, particularly fashion photography. While such sordid images initially had an impact of shock and unexpected intimacy, the tenderness has been subsumed by all-too-common depictions of torporific female subjection. There is nothing intimate about a 100 foot billboard of a barely-legal teen in her underpants on Houston Street, or another fucking nude chick in Vice. It’s boring, bloodless, colorless. If you’re so excited about people who (look like they) use heroin, just join a rock band and write the obligatory smack song for your third album.

In the meantime, is anyone surprised that Richardson has been accused of lewd conduct in his professional life? While some defend his sexual harassment as an occupational hazard, others are sane enough to realize that this behavior is a clear demonstration of Richardson’s abuse of power, not to mention sheer douchebaggery.

Jezebel reports:

Frankly, “creep” seems inadequate to the task of describing Richardson’s behavior. While it’s important to note that Peck [ed note: Jamie Peck, fashion model] does not imply that she didn’t consent to what went on with Richardson, it is troubling that she describes “zooming out” during their encounter. The environment she writes about at the studio, where she is surrounded by Richardson and his assistants, all armed with cameras (and, apparently, towels), all cheering her along, and all acting like it’s the most natural thing in the world for a photographer to interrupt a shoot and demand a hand job from his model, is even more troubling. “Inappropriate” and “unprofessional” don’t even begin to cover it. Given the power differential that exists between Richardson, who is old, wealthy, regarded as an artist, and vastly influential, and most of his model subjects, can the consent of these women even be said to be freely given? Richardson is a guy who publishes books with Taschen, hangs out with celebrities, and photographs the President. Peck was a “nerdy as hell” college freshman when she met him. Most professional models are even younger.

To those who would argue that any nude shoot carries an implied risk of lewd behavior on the part of the photographer, or that models should be aware of Richardson’s oeuvre and avoid him if they don’t like working in a sexualized environment, I say: Bullshit. Nudity is common in fashion, and when the clothes come off, it doesn’t denote a holiday from the responsibilities of maintaining a safe working environment. When I modeled, I shot both topless and implied nude with a variety of photographers — in fact, my first editorial shoot, for Italian Glamour, was topless — and never was I sexually harassed on a set. Nor did I expect, or feel that I deserved, to be simply because of the kind of work I was there to do. Instead, I expected those around me to not violate my dignity at work. Peck agrees that Richardson’s behavior is exceptional, and crosses some clear lines. “Of all the fine folks I’ve frolicked au naturel for, he’s the only one who’s left me feeling like I needed to take two showers.”

It’s not terribly surprising that Peck, who describes herself as “not a model, just a vain girl with nice tits who likes to pose for the occasional cheesecake photo,” is more comfortable speaking out about her experiences with Richardson than many professional models. Rie Rasmussen is one notable, and courageous, exception, but the fact of Richardson’s immense power within the industry, his long-standing relationships with both influential magazines like Vogue, Harper’s Bazaar, and Vogue Paris, and commercial clients like Miu Miu, Gucci, and Sisley, makes it difficult for most working models to openly criticize him. Pointing out the wrongfulness of his behavior risks hurting you more than it will him. And so agencies continue sending their young charges to castings with him, in the hopes of him giving one a big break. And so magazine editors who would never for a moment consider leaving their teenage daughters alone with someone like Terry Richardson continue booking him for shoots with other people’s teenage daughters.

Remind any of you music industry professionals of the unspoken gag rule surrounding the recent Ticketmaster/LiveNation merger? But I digress….

The fact is that women can be professional models, as well as sexy and provocative, without being exploited. And personally, I would prefer fashion to return to an aesthetic that’s not so overtly sexually exploitative and downright depressing. We’re all broke now, for Pete’s sake. Bring on the color, the richness, the lushness and the joy, please! I really miss seeing pictures of women having fun and engaging in vibrant behavior — I can relate to that. Is this why I haven’t gone shopping for so many years? Does poly-cotton no longer apply to people with self-esteem?

At the very least, please let it be the end of an era in which the visual environment is ruled by a guy like this:

“(Richardson) spoke in the effeminate tones of someone trying very hard not to come off as sexually threatening despite the fact that he was basically walking around in a hipster pedophile costume.”

Gross. But unfortunately, at present, sadly ubiquitous. Here’s hoping that it won’t be for much longer.

Thanks to my photographer friend Jesse Untracht-Oakner for thrilling me to this story.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=MM0zDiHGtKA

Hat tip to our primo plunderer of vexing video, Shane of the Government.

Thanks to Shane of the Government for the second pic.

Pre-glasnost Soviet apparatchiks were initially tight-lipped about Chernobyl-related deaths. Over the years, however, the Cold War thawed and  information concerning the accident slowly began to surface.

Within three months of the event, 31 people died from acute radiation sickness. Included in this death toll are the Soviet firefighters who knowingly rushed into a death trap to contain the blaze inside the reactor. These brave souls, reminiscent of our own FDNY on 9/11, would die of radiation sickness in a matter of months.

Yet the full impact of Chernobyl will likely never be measured — the incident continues to claim victims across generations through cancers and Down Syndrome spikes in former Communist countries and NATO nations alike.

Despite the initial silence, the Soviet response to the disaster was quick. A large concrete sarcophagus was built around the site of the explosion to contain any possible radiation leakage and the town of Pripyat was immediately evacuated.

Today, Pripyat is literally frozen in time, radiated beyond any acceptable threshold. Plates and eating utensils sit in sinks waiting to be washed; clothes hang in closets, ready to be donned; children’s strollers are lined up at the train station where hundred of parents promptly boarded departing freight cars, leaving behind everything they knew. Sitting eerily in the center of the town is a Ferris wheel, ensconced within a dead amusement park.

The population of the city the morning of the accident was 50,000 — with the next sunrise it was, and still is, zero. On that fateful day, entire lives were abandoned, with fragmentary remnants left frozen for decades.

The city of Pripyat and the Chernobyl site is an interesting case study for paranormal investigators. Many in the field feel that radiation and paranormal events are somehow symbiotic — wherever you find one, you will find the other. And there isn’t a more radioactive spot than this place. While some claim that radiation is a byproduct of paranormal activity, others believe that the radioactive particles act as “fuel” for the spectral. And yet the question persists as to whether or not a legitimate paranormal investigation could occur in this area, as the radiation levels are so high that visitors can only move quickly in and out.

During an episode of “Destination Truth,” Josh Gates and the crew went to Chernobyl and attempted an investigation.  However, whenever the team began to experience events, radiation alarms would sound and they would have to move out. Yet Gates and his team claim to have seen the shadows and the outlines of people, doctors and firefighters walking amid the radioactive clouds of night.

Could there be a connection between radiation and the paranormal?  Many investigators carry Geiger counters on their belts to measure spikes, the idea being that stronger radiation readings increase the likelihood of activity. If this is the case, Pripyat is ground zero in more ways than one.

There’s tremendous doubt about Chernobyl and the surrounding area ever being safe enough to host a proper paranormal investigation that could make explicit the link between radioactivity and the paranormal. With the march of time, the reactor’s concrete sarcophagus has begun to erode — it’s expected to completely collapse within the next decade — elevating safety concerns rendering any hope of of an investigation a near impossibility.

Until then, Pripyat and Chernobyl rests silently in the Ukraine, a relic of another time in history as well as a reminder of mankind’s limitations in harnessing the power of his environment. And perhaps within the emptiness and isolation of this radiated Russian winter are the lost souls of Chernobyl: frozen in time and waiting for release.

Education reform would appear to be the next Obama administration effort to clean up another Bush-league mess — in this case, the educator-and-student-detested “No Child Left Behind” program. Susan Engel‘s New York Times Op-Ed outlines priorities in curriculum, namely the core skills a person needs to help them learn rather than the regurgitation of mandated facts. This portion jumped out at me:

During the school day, there should be extended time for play. Research has shown unequivocally that children learn best when they are interested in the material or activity they are learning(…) A classroom like this would provide lots of time for children to learn to collaborate with one another, a skill easily as important as math or reading. It takes time and guidance to learn how to get along, to listen to one another and to cooperate. These skills cannot be picked up casually at the corners of the day.

An organization called Peace First aims to arm children with the skills to create peaceful communities and efficient group relationships. They foster the kind of personal empowerment that can only come from helping and collaborating with others. From their website:

Peace First has taught over 40,000 students critical conflict resolution skills; created over 2,500 peacemaker projects that improved communities and instilled a sense of civic engagement in students; recruited over 4,000 volunteers who provided 400,000 hours of volunteer teaching service; and trained 2,500 teachers in conflict resolution and classroom management skills. We have seen remarkable results in each of our schools: a 60 percent reduction in violence, but more importantly, a 70-80 percent increase in instances of children breaking up fights, including others and helping one another—resulting in better schools and better potential for each child in that school.

One hopes that their model of success will be recognized and applied to all grade schools as part of core curriculum. Right now, their methods benefit just four schools in New York and a number of others in Boston and Los Angeles.

In her Op-Ed, Engel also suggests the following criteria for thriving learning environments:

In this classroom, children would spend two hours each day hearing stories read aloud, reading aloud themselves, telling stories to one another and reading on their own. After all, the first step to literacy is simply being immersed, through conversation and storytelling, in a reading environment; the second is to read a lot and often. A school day where every child is given ample opportunities to read and discuss books would give teachers more time to help those students who need more instruction in order to become good readers.

Children would also spend an hour a day writing things that have actual meaning to them — stories, newspaper articles, captions for cartoons, letters to one another. People write best when they use writing to think and to communicate, rather than to get a good grade.

The idea of fostering enthusiasm for learning by including materials that “have actual meaning for them” is vitally important. Media literacy must take precedence in a cultural environment flooded with information. My first day teaching in an early childhood learning center, I noticed immediately that most of the children’s clothing and even diapers had licensed cartoon characters on them. I found that children as young as 14 months had distinct awareness of media commodities such as Mickey Mouse and Big Bird. However, many of the adults around had never considered the powerful subliminal associations formed through such deeply integrated visual stimuli.

In recent years, media and access to information has become omnipresent, and the ability to directly participate seemingly effortless. The use and distribution of images has become as important as verbal literacy skills. Yet the ability to assess and critique media, much less understand the legal implications of distributing content via new media, has not advanced at the same rate. A fine example of this is (at the time of this writing) 1,031 people’s willingness to participate in American Apparel’s “Search for the Best Bottom in the World.”

Organizations dedicated to the self-empowerment of girls, which aim to foster a healthy sense of self-image, such as Hardy Girls Healthy Women, make the following claim in their letter-writing protest of American Apparel’s “model” search:

American Apparel is directly and unconscionably undermining girls’ healthy development by equating confidence with looking sexy, winning with being judged on their appearance, and personal value with 15 seconds of fame.

So let’s talk about fame — either the kind that lasts 15 seconds, or the kind that gets people quoting that very phrase for eternity. Andy Warhol himself landed on Forbes‘ yearly list of top earning dead celebrities, which itemizes the amount earned in life and in death, typically on intellectual property but also on their own image. For example, James Dean, who commonly makes the list, acted in a mere three films during his life, yet his profile is ubiquitous. And licensed carefully by a crack team of copyright attorneys, I’m sure.

For years, feminists have complained that the female body has been commodified and exploited, associating a woman’s sexualized body (and in the American Apparel case, which is a pretty standard one, sexualized body parts), with something which can or cannot be owned according to the affordability of the product it represents. The argument is that when free access to a desired commodity is denied, the price inflates and violence is used to gain or deny access. This structure is commonly seen in the illegal drug trade, for example. A precedent of the correlation between women in media and pathological violence is described in Eldridge Cleaver‘s autobiography Soul On Ice.

Clearly, the motivation to enter these kinds of contests is not monetary (the top ten rated receive a grab bag worth $300 of American Apparel items! Whee!). The grand prize winner wins a flight and three-day stay in Los Angeles, where they will be required to participate in a panties-themed photo shoot, presumably to be used in advertisements for the company doling out the “prize.” All images submitted by any contestant become property of the company (again, that’s more than 3000 people). All monetary value remains firmly in the hands of the advertiser. They make millions and you might get a bag of panties.

I believe the key motivation here is inclusion, participation, a chance to be assessed favorably in a collective environment. Without the opportunity to participate in a cooperative group in school, and the alternative of having their use of sexuality condemned by a progressively prudish feminist “left,” young women seek a chance to prove that their physical, intellectual, and emotional property is theirs to control without mitigation from political interests. Yet where ideologies enforce codes of morality, businesses literally offer incorporation — albeit in a very, very bum deal.

My point is, if a cartoon of you is going to end wrapped around someone else’s bum, be sure you’re getting royalties. Your ass is worth it.

As I read the headlines these days, more and more my mind is plagued with one question: what do naked people think? Who will tell their story? Is there a hairy, droopy, butt-stanky man waiting in the wings who could provide some insight on this issue? Are there perhaps other people in these same wings who wish this guy would just go away?

Well, finally the voice of the naked has been heard. In a recent press release, The American Association for Nude Recreation has voiced their support for full-body scanners in airport security. “A trained security professional in a remote monitoring station takes a few seconds discreetly screening passengers to be sure they’re only bringing what nature gave them aboard” says AANR Executive Director Erich Schuttauf. “In exchange for safer skies… it’s completely worth it.”

For many, the situation recalls the classic movie Porky’s in which the protagonists discreetly screen the bodies of high school girls in the shower from their remote monitoring station in the boys’ locker room. Schuttauf’s comments, however, remind us why so many were scandalized by the film: clearly, the boys were not trained security professionals.

Regardless of where you stand on the issue of titties and pee-pees though, we can agree that it’s time to welcome the voice of the nudies into the American political arena. In years past, before such associations existed, one nude fellow on his own might have a hard time being heard, at least for any significant length of time before being dragged away. But today, this brave foray into politics comes to us from the AANR, the most respected of the nude think-tanks. Hopefully, in time we can look forward to hearing from other groups such as the Nude Electricians & Pipefitters Union, the American Association of Nude Riverboat Casino Owners, and the National Association for the Advancement of Nude Colored Persons. Perhaps President Obama, after he has declared martial law and taken the role of Supreme Leader, will in his wisdom see fit to create an Office Of Nude Doings, and appoint and Undersecretary of Nude Affairs.

One hopes we are coming closer to a day in which the nude and the clothed can come together in a sweaty, awkward embrace, then quickly pull away.

————————————-

In other news, Pat Robertson has recently been quiet about his lifelong crusade against the hokey-pokey, instead turning his attention to the sinners of Haiti. Robertson reminds us of the widely known historical event in which all of Haiti got together and handed their country over to the devil back in 1804, drawing a clear connection between that event and the tragic earthquake which struck them just 206 years later. Of course, it’s hard to imagine a country of nine million people all getting together on anything, but just cast your mind back to the time all us folks in the United States got together and decided Pat Robertson was a hateful douchebag. It was pretty much like that.

Father Droopy Dog has gotten a lot of attention for his revelation, and we should listen to him because apart from being a valued political commentator, he is also a keen predictor of future events. You’ll all recall how he warned us the world would end in 1982. Then it did, and I think I don’t need to remind anyone how bad that sucked. Then, of course, he predicted that great tsunami that destroyed the Pacific Northwest back in in 2006 in retribution for The Kingsmen‘s recording of “Louie, Louie.” Clearly, Robertson has a direct line to the will of God as well as a deep knowledge of Satan‘s inbox. He warns us that our Lord God is a vicious and smitey deity, not to mention a real bitch when it comes to holding a grudge. So we should heed his wisdom when he recommends a “great turning to God”, because you can’t make that shit up. Wait, yes you can.

In earlier posts, I have discussed the competitive nature of the paranormal world. Regardless of all the griping, all the University of New Mexico Women’s Soccer-esque hair-pulling and back-punching, it’s important to remember where this all started. Let’s take a look at one of the original paranormal pop-culture phenomenon, which likely inspired the divide.

I give unto you this holiday week’s post — a reflection on one of paranormal investigation’s most treacherous and controversial moments. It was the pop-culture wedge that jostled the supernatural boulder down the mountain: The Amityville Horror.

Consider it to be the litmus test of the paranormal world: simply ask someone in the field if they believe that The Amityville Horror was a true story, or was it fiction, and his or her answer will tell you many things. If they say it was fact, you have a crackpot on your hands. If they say it was fiction, then you might be talking to an investigator.

Because so much information about the misinformation of the story has come to light, it is next to impossible for anyone with half an investigative mind to ever regard Amityville as “A True Story,” as emblazoned on both the book jacket and movie poster.

The 1979 film, based off of the novel by the same name, followed the ordeals of the Lutzes: a down-on-their-luck family who happened to stumble on a real estate gem at 112 Ocean Avenue in Amityville, New York. Unfortunately for them, (cue my best scary movie-guy voice) “the old tenants hadn’t moved out!” Seems the previous owner, the DeFeo family, had a genetic flaw running that resulted in Papa DeFeo spreading holiday cheer — and his wife and kids’ brain matter — all over their bedroom walls with a high-powered shotgun.

So the Lutzes move in after the clean-up team bagged the remains, and immediately, Papa Lutz starts to go mad! He starts growing a beard! He starts drinking and yelling! Things he never did before! And starts ambling through town being told he looks so familiar to the townspeople, just like… nevermind… no one there likes to talk about those things… and then he begins drinking at the same bar as Daddy DeFeo!

Next, the Lutz’s daughter makes an invisible friend named “Jodie” who has a demonic body and a pig’s face and glowing red eyes! And on New Year’s morning there were pig prints in the snow! And they found a room not in the original plans painted red! And then Daddy Lutz saw the devil in the fireplace with half of its head blown off! And Mama Lutz saw green slime dripping down the walls! And the family called the local priest to come and bless the house, but a strange demonic voice said “Get out!” and he ran screaming from the home never to return again! And one night it rained really hard and as they fled the house, black slime poured out of the floorboards that cracked below their feet and windows started smashing, blowing the panes right off of the frame of the house! And then… and then… and then…

THE FLIES!!! GAH!!! INSECTS EVERYWHERE!!!!! HOW BIBLICAL!!!!!! IT’S AN ALLUSION PEOPLE!!!! GAH!!!!!!!!!!!! AND A CHEAP ONE AT THAT!!!!!!

Seriously, Ghostbusters is a better depiction of “A True Story” than The Amityville Horror — and its countless spawn — ever proved itself to be.

The initial success of both the film and the novel was astounding, and brought with it a kind of scrutiny by the media and investigators that dwarfs anything since. The Lutz’s children were interviewed and each appeared to be paranormally-preoccupied “balloon boys” doing it “for the show.” The priest who “visited” the home claimed he only spoke to the Lutzes once and it was on the phone — he did swing by the house for an unrelated reason and experienced nothing supernatural. And subsequent owners of the property have gone on record that there is no damage from any events depicted in the novel — broken windows and panes from the narrative are the originals from the initial construction of the house. And, because the book is chaptered as the dates of the events, the local weather services claimed that the weather conditions as depicted in the novel do not match with the actual climate conditions on record.

Get out!

Jay Anson, the author of the novel, would state later that the premise of the novel was formulated with the Lutzes during a night of imbibing many bottles of wine. (Anson should have apologized for the overuse of the exclamation mark, as well!!!!!!) And the Lutzes went on to suggest that the story is “mostly true,” versus their original claim that it was completely factual.

Yet despite the controversy, the facts that have surfaced, the holes in the story and the author and “victims” of the events shifting the goalposts of “truthiness” that is The Amityville Horror, the public continues to be fascinated, regardless of the facts. This Hole-y Narrative has ushered in numerous sequels and remakes, television documentaries that dismiss the Lutze’s claims and others supporting them and enough investigative novels to keep the money pouring in for nearly thirty years.

Thanks to this success, the so-called hauntings of Amityville have become arguably America’s most infamous paranormal event — despite strong evidence that it could be a total fabrication.

Hollywood learned in the infancy of modern supernatural depiction that the truth has little to do with profit, and that flamboyant, hyperbolic storytelling trumps truthful depictions of the paranormal. And other cinematic depictions of supposed “real events” such as A Haunting in Connecticut have likewise proven themselves to be box office gold. Rinse and repeat.

But Hollywood’s formulaic depictions of hauntings and the bank trips following such releases has left a rift in the actual paranormal investigative community: those who see an event like Amityville with dollar signs in their eyes and those who view it as a case gone horribly wrong and commodified rather than deconstructed. Either way, both view it as the quintessential “what to do” and the “what not to do” — but it’s what we do with it that matters.