The Serial Killer Coloring Book Fundraiser

October 26, 2013

I am doing a fundraiser to get the next issue of the Serial Killer Coloring Book – The Richard Ramirez edition #6.66. Exciting, eh? Yes it is.

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Serial Killer Coloring Book fundraiser

http://igg.me/p/559880/x/4082277

For those of you that are not familiar with the Serial Killer Coloring Book I will give a little history. In 1998 I was looking to create an adult themed coloring book. I tried a Porno Star Coloring Book first but it didn’t do it for me. Or anyone else. The thought of doing a Serial Killer Coloring Book intrigued me. It also mad me snicker a bit.  I bought a copy of Harold Schector’s A-Z Encyclopedia of Serial Killers and began reading the drawing. I thought it was fascinating and made it real simple and low quality like as if a serial killer or a mental patient would draw and write. After some bad national criticism of my execution from other Zines of the time I decided to make it an ongoing comic/ fanzine and improve the quality of art even though they were the ones that missed the point. By the time the second issue $1.666 was finished I developed a following and the the Serial Killer Coloring Book found it’s way to international distribution.

I soon discovered an entire underground culture of serial killer enthusiasts (for lack of a better term). Most of us interested in the subject do not “love serial killers” or intend on sensationalizing the subject. We are interested in the intellectual and psychological aspects of serial murderers. I approach it with sarcasm and humor in my art and writings.

Serial Killer Coloring Book fundraiser

The rest is history. I created and sold 5 issues from 1999-2002 and are now available here in one collected volume. 11 years later it’s time to pick up where I left off.  Since Richard Ramirez died this year and I had a unique interest in him I figured an issue dedicated to him would be a good start.  Since I don’t have the “discounted” late night printing at a local copy shop option I am reaching out to gain support to print them and make them available at a reasonable cost.

I am also fortunate enough to have some wonderful artists working on this with me like Matthew Aaron (my artistic partner in crime), Herlaka Rose and Jon F Allen

Serial Killer Coloring Book fundraiser

Please click any of the many links to the fundraiser now and help if you can. Although the killer incentives are worth it to some, I appreciate any support I can get. Thank you in advance for your support.

artramirezsignedenv Art-Ramirez-Aaron-Hillen3

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Crime Scene 2

August 16, 2012

The experience was fantastic folks. Here’s the promo from before the show.

Get ready folks! “True Crime Three” are at it again with a little help from their friend’s to bring you the Crime Scene 2 murder convention in Indianapolis. Mark your calendars, iphones and all reminder devices you own. August 13th 2012 will be legendary.

This is not just another night of murder, music and art! It’s an unforgettable experience you will never forget whether you want to or not.

In 2011 award winning true crime documentary filmmaker, John Borowski was interviewing The Last Dime Museum owner Mathew Aaron and author and creator of the largest serial killer site online and serial killers, Joe Hiles planned a collaborative true crime convention that took place May 28th 2011 titled The Crime Scene. It featured the founders, which was enough to make the convention noteworthy. The

During the filming of award winning true crime documentary filmmaker John Borowski’s interview with Joe Hiles, author and creator of Serial Killer Central online and Matthew Aaron, owner and curator of the Last Dime Museum at the museum. The “true crime three” decided a collaborative crime convention was in order.

Matthew Aaron suggested collaboration between him, Hiles, and Borowski and for an event hosted in Indianapolis, Indiana that would be the ‘true crime event of the year’, featuring true crime inspired bands, authors, filmmakers, displays of artwork by serial killers, and film props. The event also draws attention to numerous crime and punishment issues such as the death penalty, prisoner abuse, and wrongly convicted prisoners such as the West Memphis Three.

Matthew Aaron organized the venue at Birdy’s Bar & Grill in Indianapolis, Indiana, Joe Hiles designed the event website and John Borowski helped secure talent for the event. The collection or artwork by killers on display are from the collections of Aaron and Hiles.

Some of the highlights of the event were:

– A first ever scene screening from Panzram: The Spirit of Hatred and Vengeance, John Borowski’s documentary film being released fall of 2011, as well as a teaser trailer for his upcoming film entitled Serial Killer Culture.

– Meet and greet with: Collector, Musician, and photographer Matthew Aaron. Author, collector, and founder of Serial Killer Central, Joe Hiles. John Borowski, filmmaker of H.H. Holmes: America’s First Serial Killer, Albert Fish: In Sin He Found Salvation, and Carl Panzram: The Spirit of Hatred and Vengeance. Charles D. Moisant, publisher of Mystery Manor and Bane of the Werewolf comic books.

– Displays of original true crime paintings and artworks by such famous names as Charles Manson, John Wayne Gacy, Richard Ramirez, and numerous others.

– Acoustic songs ‘bout serial killers by Rich Hillen of the World Famous Crawlspace Brothers and Hillen’s Best of the Serial Killer Coloring Book and his macabre artwork.

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Serial Killers are Cool bla blah blaaa .. . Whatevs

May 25, 2012

“Just when I thought I was out…they pull me back in.” Michael Corleone Godfather III

The following response was posted about my poster (above) for an upcoming event I posted.

A fairly famous author and filmmaker about serial killers said “I would argue the poster is moronic. A lot of us, including myself as a true crime author, are here “in the business” of profiting from people’s fascination with serial killers, but few of us forget that in the final analysis there are victims and families whose lives are destroyed by the acts that serial killers perpetrate. Unless there is some forensic reason, I de-identify victim photos by blurring out their faces, an act akin to covering the victim. A poster like this exploits and glamourizes the suffering of victims and worse, trivializes it. Somebody should hang the moron who designed that poster in his/her own blood, along with the idiot model who agreed to pose with her titties soaked in fake blood in this poster. Everyone thinks serial killers are cool until they come over and anal rape you or your kids and cover them in their own blood.”

 

I wrote 3 responses already but decided to let you write the responses instead. I can’t post this on Facebook (see previous blog)

Here’s the original poster that I like better anyway.


Dreams of Stains, Refrains and Delorians on Film

May 4, 2012

Yeah. I haven’t had writer’s block per say. I’ve been busy having my 19th nervous breakdown and drawing to pay rent. I love drawing but I miss writing as much as I normally do.

So, here’s a well something I wrote based on a few dreamses.

It was group therapy. It was forced therapy. It was a family reunion of the family that never was but perhaps should be. Grammar school orgy. Grammer school orgy. It was a film making table reading in a locked room. Forced filmmaking. Script reading. It was confusion. Both of my, well 3 of my (2 are brothers) friends who made make write score create direct films -William Hellfire and the Martin Brothers-Andy and Jim Martin were there as counselors or doctors or caretakers or leaders or patients taking charge. They had their latest cast or character actors who belonged here with me along with Kat Dennings with the personality of her character Max in the non-hit TV show 2 Broke Girls, another friend Cherie, Sarah Michelle Gellar, Andy’s friends Rick and Pat and Hellfire’s latest young hot sultry actresses ready to do anything. Anything. Non of the other girls mattered. I liked Kat. I was really into her this time and not the average young skinny wild ready for anything models (although she was young and not fat-she was older than and heavier than most girls I dream about and the ones in the room).

 

The reading was tedious. Repetition and such. Words. Just words. I kept thinking. The padded walls became more apparent. Was it part of the set or part of the prison? The cell. The reading? The words. There was a window in the corner left right over the top wall. I was padded and bars decorated the outside. I think it a was plastic window. No glass for the loons. This loon.

 

We could hear the heavy storm a coming. Rolling round the bend. A hurricane. An avalanche? The doors were bolted shut and we hung out in the lobby of the built in movie theater we found though a secret compartment and sneaked in and ate popcorn and drank coffee and soda. Mr Hellfire always had a stash of liquor with him to share and some took some and some turned it down. This was our scared straight therapy I proposed in my mind. The party was just beginning and I felt like I just begun as well. I never began. I never stopped or started. No one understood why we were there and most of us didn’t care or cared too much. We fluctuated back and forth. An orgy. An evening of days spread across the calendar of my subconscious or maybe I was part of someone else’s dreams.

The storm subsided eventually and I dreamed my way onward onto a floatation vehicle. A car. A Delorian. A delirium. Ruins of the storm maintain the balance somehow and the roads –Who needs roads?- I see foreign flying vehicles. Ed Woodian saucers like whipped by me on the way to Gary’s house. Flight attendants offer my navigational gal Friday pills for the ride and I steer along seamlessly despite the nausea.

 

“Go ahead and vomit” I tell Gary but Gary never gets sick.

 

We arrive in his underground tavern. Cavern to find his equipment ready to go. We park. Hang out forgetting the therapy of filmmaking and ballet dancing. When he’s ready for me to leave the BitchCave Gary confidently hands me a package. I knew what to do as I climb into a new flight device. Airplane maybe?

Flight of the dead. Dead musicians, friends, loves and my own life obliterated into one pile of ashes from the exhaust flames of a flying saucer. I’m still high from the flames and the guilt.


Ezra POUNDed My Head

February 9, 2012

Ezra POUNDed my head today

I woke up in the (William) BURROUGHS of my mind

Unable to NEAL like Cassady and pray

I write like I am an ARTHUR (Rimbaud) of many poems but

I am really a HUNTER (S. Thompson) of words

A Patti wordSMITH

 

I am hungry for an Allan GINSBERGer with cheese

Flap JACK Kerouac rhymes touch my soul

I search as (Henry David) THOREOUly as I can for the

Right (Edgar Allan) POEm to come along and

It all seems so (William) BLeAkE like

Tasting rotten (Walt) WHITMAN chocolates

My creativity takes it (Gregory) CORSO

As I ponder on about Emily needing DICKenson

I have to make my MARK like TWAIN

And do as I WILLiam and say FAULKner you

 

I WILLiam SHAKEspeare this feeling

I want to have my (Robert) FROSTed cake

And (William Butler) yEATs it too

Mark my (William) WORDSworth


Dreams Can be Fun and Not

January 28, 2012

My dreams are my only real social life these days. Sometimes the dreams are great. I have jobs, friends, girlfriends and sometimes pure happiness. Tonight or last night or morning depending on when I finish writing this was a doozy of night of bad dreams.

I woke up and had a dream that went bad but it was social. On a vacation or a trip or something with my girlfriend (it was my ex-girlfriend who was now my girlfriend for some reason but I accepted it). We did a lot of hiking and lugging clothes to a remote house or cabin in the woods. I remember suites and dresses on hangers and we made it in the cabin to meet up with families we knew and children running around. I had a bad feeling but my girlfriend was feeling fine. We hung out for a while and then it became a scene out of The Hills Have Eyes, the remake not the original. It was like some kind of horror movie with savages or cannibals suddenly attacking.

I tried to protect my girlfriend and the children but I was so afraid when suddenly these men that looked like huge skeletons. Some had dark black skin and others had albino skin. Every time they came to attack us the children would rat something and they would back off like Frankenstein’s monster from fire. It was a beautiful chant I wish I could remember. Instead of attacking us they stole our belongings. Most of them. I saw some of my suits left trashed along with my girlfriend’s dresses. She clung to my arm and asked if we could leave and I obliged. Her friend came up to us as we were in the clear and near the car. He said we have to leave because of Laura. I had no idea who Laura was. I woke up.

I fell back asleep and ended up in a house with guys I knew in my dream but not in real life. They were drug dealers. Big white bald guys that reminded me of skinheads. I was hanging out with skinhead drug dealers that could kick my ass and I felt very comfortable. I wasn’t doing drugs or anything I was just talking and watching television. A couple of times the police came in and couldn’t find anything. The second time they came in I went up stairs and showed them a small throw rug in my hand and opened it up innocently to show them I wasn’t carrying anything. I accidentally covered for my “friend” who was holding crack, cocaine and heroin. He showed me once we got upstairs. I remember thinking he only sold weed because that’s what I bought from him. He disappeared into another room and I found some cats to play with.

I wandered back downstairs when I heard the police leave. There were several guys hanging out and they were different then the previous guys yet looked the same. I tried walking out and back in different entrances to see if they would change. I finally gave up and walked outside and the sun was out and I was just below the street standing on stairs. I looked up and saw what looked like prostitutes above me. They started pulling fishing lines with baggies of crack up the stairs to sell. There were so many being pulled they were hitting my face and went in  my mouth. I kept a little in my mouth and put the rest in my hand and wandered down the stairs trying to figure out how I was going to smoke the remaining rocks oblivious to my surroundings. I woke up.

I sat and reflected and started to fantasize about doing crack and it wasn’t good. I thought of my heart and the dangerous places I’d have to go to get it. I prayed and went back to sleep.

I had several other dreams through the night that woke me up but can’t remember. I finally woke up at 5 am for the day in a good mood despite the bad dreams and the fact I was awake 2 and half hours before the alarm was set. I felt better than I have for this entire week. Odd. My low energy depressive week passed and I feel up and ready to go. I’ll probably take a nap later.


Contagious Mental Illness?

June 7, 2011

Is depression contagious? Are negative people really emotional and psychic “vampires” draining and infecting another person? I guess it depends on the people involved.

 

I’ve had many relationships with people that drain me emotionally. Some say I let it happen. Others believe that some people “feed” like vampires off of other people they perceive stronger or even anyone that will let them in.

 

I have always attracted people that drain me because I like people and I see qualities beyond what other’s see. In theory it’s a nice thing but in reality it’s a no win situation. I have found that despite my innate self-absorption, I am extremely sensitive to other people’s moods that surround me.

 

It’s been written about in psychology, psychiatry, sociology, and personal experiences books, novels, poems, studies and blogs for years. Self help books emphasize the importance of surrounding yourself with the people that have what you want. Experts suggest that if you hang out with people that are happy and successful you can develop their qualities. The 12 step programs have a saying “Stick with the winners”. That is quite the ironic statement. It implies I must judge people as winners and losers. It also holds some truth.

 

I have always had an attraction to people labeled as outcasts, freaks, misfits, weirdoes, creeps, and anyone different from the norm. As it turns out these people are all emotionally damaged on one level or another and can be a negative influence on my life. Being sensitive to the energy, vibes and emotions of people that surround me I tend to compare myself to them and sometimes take on their negative qualities.

 

As human beings we are all naturally attracted to people that have similar qualities to ourselves. Myself. I spent years relating mostly to mentally ill, emotionally disturbed, abused, socially abandoned people. In my estimate it was my way of relating to and understanding my natural Paranoid Schizophrenic mother. I know this about myself and I still act upon it.

 

As I’ve written and expressed many times in the past I have increasingly become a recluse in the last 3 years. It is getting to the point of agoraphobia. Some of my friends are sick of hearing about at this point. As much as I want to be alone and don’t want to leave the house when I am in a social situation whether it be a trip to a convenience store, visit with family or even my room mate I can be extremely social out of habit. Most of my life I’ve been social and extraverted.

 

The past 8 months I have lived with a fellow mentally ill friend. Other people have suggested that living with him could be bad for me. Since I am sensitive to other people’s energy and moods I find myself feeding off of him. When he is aggravated it aggravates me. When he is depressed I get depressed. When he is manic I get aggravated. We do have times when our moods are centered and we get along but over all I am uncomfortable living with someone when their moods affect me. It’s not anyone’s fault. He once reminded me that about 95% of his moods and whatever he is going through has nothing to do with me. I try and hold onto that and move on.

 

I need a new life.


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