I remember hearing of her, long before I was ever interested in that sort of thing. Mother was a famous medium, apparently quite legitimate and dedicated, and charged a pittance for her services. He ended up dumping them on the black market for a pittance. He speaks eight languages, can invade any computer network, and possess other people's bodies long enough to loot their wall safes-he is obsessed with wall safes, by the way, hi an almost erotic fashion!-and yet he plays silly tricks on people and ends up with handcuffs on his wrists! The objects he took from our vaults were nearly impossible for him to sell. "Lestat, there is something positively stupid about this creature. "But, Lestat, it's an endlessly destructive game." "Ups and downs," I said, remembering his words. Look, if you meant to possess a mortal body for a while, I'd be dead against it, for that is diabolical and unnatural enough! But to give your body to this madman! Ye gods, will you please come here to London? Let me talk you out of this. You can't give your body over to him! And that is just what you mean to do. "Lestat, you must understand how destructive and vicious this individual can be. He rises from the lowest employment to living in extravagant luxury, running up ludicrous accounts for fine clothing, motorcars, jet excursions here and there, and then it all collapses in the face of his petty crimes, treachery, and betrayal. She said her brother had been destroyed when he was quite young, by their mother's death." She's deeply grieved over the death of her troublesome brother, but relieved he's gone. Her only daughter became a seamstress, still works for a bridal shop in London. "Ah, the photograph on the ship," I said. I mean how did he become this wizard of sorts?" ![]() "David, you investigated him before he became a member of the order, did you not? What sort of man is he. His next stop was Berlin, where he was arrested but talked himself out of custody, and then back to London, where he went to jail again." In Milan, he bilked a member of the old aristocracy out of thousands before he was discovered, and had to leave the city in the middle of the night. ![]() Then Vienna, where he worked as a waiter in a first-class hotel until he became a psychic counselor to the rich within a matter of weeks. After a series of odd jobs, including very menial work, he started some sort of a spiritualist church, swindled a widow out of her life savings, and was deported. On Spike Lee & Hyper-Gentrification, the Monster T."Same thing happened later in Oslo, more or less.But you know gentrification has run its course when one of the founders of Pinkberry is sentenced to seven years in jail for beating a homeless person with a tire iron. Now Chelsea's culture is fading away as everyone keeps getting priced out. But then the next wave of gentrification came, so even white gay males count afford to live there anymore and they all moved up to Hells Kitchen. When the avenue gentrified, or maybe it gay-ified, it improved briefly with places like The Big Cup coffee shop and some of the better restaurants opened up. ![]() They are basically for people who haven't discovered internet porn yet, or who just crave catching strange diseases from strangers. ![]() Those sex shops are gross too, even compared to the old ones on Times Square. When Rawhide showed up it was just dark and seedy, an odd place where gay men from the Island and New Jersey went to hide out in a neighborhood that was full of openly gay men, and it was not a very good neighbor. And believe it or not it was safer than a lot of other places like the East Village and Spanish Harlem. There was a coffee counter and donut shop on the south corner with the best jelly donuts, and a Psychic upstairs above the pizzeria, and all the degenerate types stayed where they belonged, in the Chelsea Hotel.Ĭhelsea was a great place to grow up back then, playing stickball in the street, climbing on the old abandoned tracks on the high line. It was just a regular working class neighborhood in the 70s when there was the bowling alley on the 2nd floor over the Lamston's on 23rd St. Chelsea is so over, the waves of change have finally done it in.
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