A VERY ED GEIN CHRISTMAS

In the wake of Ed Gein's murders, "Gein humor" began circulating around Plainfield, Wisconsin. Among them was this, dubbed "Ed Gein's Christmas." 

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all though the shed,
All creatures were stirring, even old Ed.

The bodies were hung from the rafters above,
While Eddie was searching for another new love.

He went to Wautoma for a Plainfield deal,
Looking for love and also a meal.

When what to his hungry eyes should appear,
But old Mary Hogan in her new red brassiere.

Her cheeks were like roses when kissed by the sun
And she let out a scream at the sight of Ed's gun.
 
Old Ed pulled the trigger and Mary fell dead,
He took his old axe and cut off her head.

He then took his hacksaw and cut her in two,
One half for hamburger, the other for stew.

And laying a hand aside of her heel,
Up to the rafter went his next meal.

He sprang to his truck, to the graveyard he flew,
The hours were short and much work he must do.

He looked for the grave where the fattest one laid,
And started digging with a shovel and spade.

He shoveled and shoveled and shoveled some more,
Till finally he reached the old coffin door.

He took out a crowbar and pried open the box,
He was not only clever but sly as a fox.

As he picked up the body and cut off her head,
He could tell by the smell that the old girl was dead.

He filled in the grave by the moonlight above,
And once more old Ed had found a new love. 

CHAR MAN

A well-known urban legend in California comes from the Ojai Valley in Camp Comfort County Park. They say the spirit of a man burnt in a fire will emerge from the forest and attack cars and hikers. He is called Char-Man because the majority of his face and body could be described as “extra-crispy.”

There are several versions of Char-Man’s origin, but they all begin with a wildfire that occurred in the park in 1948. The main story goes that a father and son were caught in the blaze and the older man was killed. But the son survived, and when a rescue team arrived they found that he had strung up his father and pulled off his skin. He then disappeared into the woods. Another story makes the victims a husband and wife, claiming that the man went mad as he lay trapped and injured in the fire, unable to aid his wife, who was screaming for his help.

Either way, it is said that if you drive onto a bridge located in the park and get out of your car, Char-Man will come. The horribly burned man will run at you and attack, trying to tear off your skin—perhaps to take as his own.

Story source.

EDWARD GEIN: AMERICA'S MOST BIZARRE MURDERER (1981)

As I’ve said before, there’s been no better friend to the horror genre than Edward Gein. Perhaps you’ve heard of him? He killed two women (that we know of), dug up the graves of a dozen more, and kept parts of them in his home for various purposes. Which parts? I’ll let the author of this book tell you in his own words:

“What follows is probably the most unusual case in modern times. It is the story of Edward Gein, America's most bizarre murderer, grave robber, maker of exotic household items, wearing apparel, and possessor of undoubtedly the finest private collection of female heads, vagina, vulvas and unquestionably the most notorious character ever to stand before me in court.”

Without Gein, Robert Bloch would not have written the book that became the ultimate slasher film Psycho; same goes for Thomas Harris, who would not have written The Silence of the Lambs. And perhaps the most “accurate” account of Gein’s crimes, never would we have met Leatherface, Grandpa, and the whole Sawyer clan with Tobe Hooper’s The Texas Chain Saw Massacre. (As far as films go, I’m only naming the good ones. There are far far more titles, and boy, do they plummet that ladder of quality.) Gein even enjoyed a brief appearance in the recent Anthony Hopkins film Hitchcock, in which he was played by character actor Michael Wincott (The Crow).

Being that I am a true crime obsessee, Edward Gein, America's Most Bizarre Murderer  seemed an obvious choice for me. I find Ed Gein to be nearly as fascinating as I do Carl Panzram—in fact, it was through reading Killer: A Journal of Murder that I realized reading horrific accounts that befall humanity when crossing paths with the inhumane, while morbidly interesting, can be that much more interesting when the text utilizes the subject’s own voice. It was after reading this that I decided any further reading on a particular true crime would hinge on that one requirement. After reading something as powerful as Killer:  A Journal of Murder—a tome comprised largely of Panzram’s own words—other true crime accounts I’d read by people unconnected to the cases they were examining utterly paled by comparison.

Though I’m sure true crime authors who have written about all kinds of serial killers/mass murderers have done their homework, I’d rather read about it from the point of view directly connected to the case. That, to me, makes the book seem more legitimate. Very rare can such a book be made up of the subject’s own words, as, by law, a killer cannot profit off the sharing of his or her crimes. The next best thing is to get the story of someone who was there.

Enter Judge Robert H. Gollmar, who presided over the murder trials of Ed Gein.

Wiki crash course:

Edward Theodore "Ed" Gein (August 27, 1906 – July 26, 1984) was an American murderer and body snatcher. His crimes, committed around his hometown of Plainfield, Wisconsin, gathered widespread notoriety after authorities discovered Gein had exhumed corpses from local graveyards and fashioned trophies and keepsakes from their bones and skin. Gein confessed to killing two women – tavern owner Mary Hogan on December 8, 1954, and a Plainfield hardware store owner, Bernice Worden, on November 16, 1957. Initially found unfit for trial, after confinement in a mental health facility he was tried in 1968 for the murder of Worden and sentenced to life imprisonment, which he spent in a mental hospital.

I’m not sure that I would call Edward Gein, America's Most Bizarre Murderer, the definitive account on Ed Gein the man, but as for the crimes that rocked Plainview, Wisconsin, in the late 1950s, as well as the trial that would follow a decade later, it does provide a pretty complete overview of the case. Interviews with psychologists, law enforcement, and transcripts directly from the trial are provided—sometimes with mixed results. When the subject of discussion is of Ed Gein, or his crimes, then the book is incredibly interesting and compulsively readable, but in the interest of providing detailed accounts of how evidence was removed from the scene to satisfy the reader who might, perhaps, doubt that Gein was responsible for the crimes of which he was charged, pages upon pages of explanations on which guns were removed from the scene, and which bullets were found, and which bullets fit which gun, and could you describe how these bullets were loaded into this gun?, and on and on, it can read monotonously after a while. Ditto for the fingerprinting techniques, which also went on for too long.  Again, this was crucial testimony for the prosecution, and I understand its inclusion in the text; it just doesn’t make for compelling reading. For the legally minded, however, I’m sure this particular material reads just as interestingly as the others.

Because why not?

The book really pulls no punches with the sharing of very graphic details, even going as far as including crime scene photographs taken of one of Gein’s victims—flayed and mutilated like a hunter would a deer.

Oddly enough (and perhaps for padding purposes), following a trend the judge noted occurring at the time, also included are examples of “Gein humor”—more specifically, jokes that began circulating following the news of his arrest, and for which type of crimes. These are as bad as you might suspect, but were probably hilarious to Wisconsin farmers in the late 1950s.

Q: Why did Ed Gein's girlfriend stop going out with him?

A: Because he was such a cut-up.

Q: Why did they keep the heat on in Ed Gein's house?

A: So the furniture wouldn't get goose bumps.

And, you know—other jokes just as stupid.

The book ends with one final interview, performed between Judge Gollmar and Ed Gein, with the latter being forever confined to a mental asylum for the criminally insane. This is the only point in the book in which Gein comes off as aloof—even lighthearted—and it makes you wonder if this man had played the entire court system in order to get away with murder. Yes, his sentence was still life behind bars, though they were not prison bars, but those of a hospital, where some of his rights and comforts would still be maintained. To summarize the defense’s entire strategy, a tactic combining claims of an accidental shooting and “I don’t remember what happened” allowed Gein to skate having to plead guilty to murder. And this was perhaps the most interesting part of the book. Yes, women being killed and mutilated, and bodies being unearthed from graveyards, all makes for cheap shocks and creepy thrills, but the most eye-opening was the spotlight on the American justice system. The prosecution and the judge knew Ed Gein was guilty of murdering at least two women, and likely responsible for dozens of other disappearances from surrounding areas. They simply knew it. The dissected body of one of his victims was found strung up in his shed, decapitated, and shackled with ropes as if she were a trophy deer shot during a hunt. But despite this, coupled with the fact that his confession was later thrown out, as it was determined to have been delivered under duress and persuasion, certain evidence obtained during the investigation was deemed inadmissible because preliminary investigating law enforcement did not obtain the proper search warrants to enter his property. That and Gein simply had no motive.

That loopholes like that exist in our justice system is actually scarier than any old murder.

Edward Gein, America's Most Bizarre Murderer is essential reading for anyone interested in the murderous exploits of Ed Gein, or those interested in true crime, but it may perhaps be invaluable to those considering entering law as a career. And if you'd also like to know the silent partner behind some of your favorite horror films, he's been waiting for you. 

SHITTY FLICKS: MOTEL HELL

Shitty Flicks is an ongoing column that celebrates the most hilariously incompetent, amusingly pedestrian, and mind-bogglingly stupid movies ever made by people with a bit of money, some prior porn-directing experience, and no clue whatsoever. It is here you will find unrestrained joy in movies meant to terrify and thrill, but instead poke at your funny bone with their weird, mutant camp-girl penis. 

WARNING: I tend to give away major plot points and twist endings in my reviews because, whatever. Shut up. 

There’s been no better friend to modern horror than a simple dead man named Ed Gein. Yes, Ed Gein, farmer from Wisconsin, was a leading frontiersman in early horror cinema, inventing the aspect of the “jump scare,” coining the phrase “a horror movie is a roller coaster ride,” and even giving Alfred Hitchcock some pointers on how he should shoot his now-infamous shower scene from Psycho.

Now, is any of that true?

Heavens, no.

But it doesn’t mean Ed Gein didn’t have a profound effect on the horror genre. It's just that he did it by digging up dead girls and eating them while sitting in chairs made of human bones, wearing human face masks, and cooking livers.

He also had mommy issues.

Any horror fan worth their weight in shit can name at least three movies this man directly inspired. For the uninitiated, those films are the aforementioned Psycho, The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, and The Silence of the Lambs (I'll even give you American Psycho). Keep in mind I am only naming the good ones. There are many, many more, such as the just-OK Roberts Blossom-starring Deranged, Three on a Meat Hook, two movies called Ed Gein, and lastly, this masterpiece of depravity, 1980’s Motel Hell.

Farmer Vincent, played with zest and appeal by the always standing and walking Rory Calhoun, rocks outside his prime piece of real estate, Motel Hello. Vincent leans against the chair, enjoying the sounds of the night air, staring at the stars. Then he grabs a shotgun off the wall and leaves his tiny business to randomly shoot a motorcycling couple in the dead of night.

But uh oh, before he even has the chance to take aim, the motorcycle sputters and then shits, spilling the people messily on the ground. Vincent gathers up the girl, takes her home to his monster of a sister, and lays her in bed. Vincent, believing she was spared her death by God, decides that he will nurse her back to health. Her lover ends up…elsewhere.

Despite this recent turn of events, Farmer Vincent has a business to run - that of hickory-smoking his collection of divine meats and selling them at barely a profit. This is a business he has shared with his fat, monstrous sister Ida for apparently a long time and his reputation is pretty well-known.

While selling off his meats to a man and woman, their stupid daughters wander into Vincent’s smoke house where they are assaulted by some swinging pigs. Sure, it’s creepy, but to be expected from a meat smoker (that’s filthy!); however, something then happens that’s not so normal: someone wearing a giant bloody pig head pops up and screams, sending the little girls pissing and running from the shack.

Stacy and Macy were all out of hash,
and Farmer Vincent had the best shit in town.

Sheriff Smith comes to the farm to see about the girl, Terri, who had crashed. Ida, the fat monster sister, attacks him for no reason, making the audience think that this cop has already met his maker. We think that for about six seconds before Vincent calls her off, and she obligingly releases the man from her meaty arms. The sheriff looks barely annoyed, and this is never mentioned again.

Thanks, Motel Hell.

Later, we meet a new character: Bald Bob. Called just Bob by his friends and Bald Bob by no one but me, Bald Bob, the town veterinarian, does a quick look-see to see if Vincent’s swine are up to slaughtering standards. Bald Bob looks at pigs, falls in mud, and then leaves, and the audience is happy to have met him.

Meanwhile, Terri looks absolutely destroyed over losing her motorcycle crashing lover and being all alone in the world, but once Vincent convinces her it was God’s plan, she looks instantly better and goes to bed.

I wish Farmer Vincent was my caregiver.

Bald Bob returns to the farm later that night under the cover of darkness to do some sneaking around, intent on visiting that smoke house that he was denied entry to earlier in the film, when he, again, falls in mud. Then he discovers a patch of Vincent’s garden filled with quivering and gurgling sacks. Curiously, Bald Bob lifts a sack and is greeted with a man’s head - his body buried beneath the ground - and making intensely disturbing wet noises with his throat. Bald Bob experiences a moment of horror before a nice, satisfying BONK takes him out of the frame and reveals Vincent behind him, apparently pleased with this new turn of events.

Vincent then places a bear trap in the road, removing a bus of annoying punk rockers almost immediately. To make room for this new batch, Vincent and Monster Ida start uprooting all of his previous victims, so weak from their lack of food and water that they can’t do anything except wait to be smoked and eaten by dumb white crackers.

“It takes all kinds of critters to make Farmer Vincent fritters!” they exclaim together, staring at their garden of sacked heads.

Mmm, I’ll have skull, please!

The next day, Vincent, Beast Ida, Sheriff Smith, and Terri go on a picnic, where they all discuss the history of Farmer Vincent’s business. When Vincent regales the group with tales of having smoked and killed his mother’s dog, Terri looks momentarily horrified before quickly letting it go, realizing that in this backwoods area of fuck-heads, that’s a normal occurrence, and,well, she better get used to it if she’s just going to live here. Fat Ida almost lets slip just what secret ingredient Vincent uses in his meats, but a quick punch to her massive stomach quickly shuts her up, and Sheriff Smith and Terri leave out of sheer discomfort.

That night, Vincent and Ida walk around their garden of heads, who have funnels shoved in their mouths to receive whatever divine goo is in Vincent’s bucket.

“Do you think, in years to, come people will appreciate what we have done here?” asks Ida the monster. Assuming she means the movie, I answer before Vincent can:

“No.”

People plants are hard to cultivate, but if you

know what you're doing, they're quite satisfying.

Two miscellaneous ski instructors traveling the road late at night encounter a herd of fake cows blocking the road (oh, Vincent). One of the girls agrees to remove the cows, having taken a gun with her for protection, for she was once sexually assaulted by a fake cow. A lot of good that gun did as Vincent grabs the girl, causing the other one to take off.

Vincent, in hot pursuit, catches up to the blonde and takes to ramming the girl from behind with his big…truck (perverts) as the girl freaks out and calls for help on her convenient CB radio. She’s eventually taken care of.

Later, a swinger couple shows up at the motel, thinking it’s a different motel that hosts swinger parties, as Vincent and Ida disgustingly play along.

The couple grows extremely aroused at seeing Vincent and Ida enter the room with rope, assuming it’s all apart of their impending sex romp. They quickly realize that Vincent and Ida are here for reasons other than sex and grow quickly horrified, although they rightfully should have been horrified much earlier at the prospect of committing any kind of sex act with the very unpleasing body and face of Ida the Terrible.

Terri, rescued from the nearby lake after Ida tries to drown her out of fat jealously, tries to kiss Vincent, but he refuses, saying they should be married first, which really oddly leads to marriage.

After their marriage ceremony, the three of them toast with champagne and wear party hats (haha) as Ida’s fat, monstrous jealousy leads to murderous behavior. She slips a Mickey into Terri’s glass and it works unrealistically quick, knocking her out instantly.

And just when you think Farmer Vincent is going to show some humanity - plot twist!! - it turns out he was in on it.

At his head garden, he turns on a bunch of spinning, colored, psychedelic gizmos and it eventually stuns his heads so he can do…something. At this point in the movie, I’d grown to hate it so much that I stopped paying attention and attempted to chase down a virus in my computer.

Oh look, during my cursing and clicking, it looks like Vincent’s head garden managed to escape. They did what I would have done and immediately murdered Ida.

Sheriff Smith shows up, having heard of Vincent and Terri’s wedding, deciding that it’s time to kill a farmer or two. He and Vincent, now sporting his stupid pig mask, take part in a poorly-choreographed fight inside his smoke house. Vincent, wielding his chainsaw, is overpowered by Sheriff Smith and has his own weapon shoved into his cut.

Vincent gives a weepy monologue that’s supposed to also be tongue-in-cheek, gurgles, and dies.

Sheriff Smith and Terri leave Motel Hell for good, and so do I, as I eject the disc, place it back in the case, and see what I can get for it on Amazon.