Derailed by a VERY ANGRY Conductor While Exploring the Abandoned Bartlet...

Now this was a fun explore with a little twist at the end!   #explore #abandoned trains  #trains #BartlettTrains #NewHampshire #Whitemountains #funny

Exploring Elan, the Remains of a Controversial School for Troubled Teens.

“After all, when a stone is dropped into a pond, the water continues quivering even after the stone has sunk to the bottom.”  -Arthur Golden, Memoirs of a Geisha

As are many roads off the beaten path, Number 5 Road, is all together unassuming and benign in its existence.  Well-manicured lawns, flower laden porches and echoes of child’s play line the drive toward our destination and speak with such familiarity to the nature of upper middle- class life in the peaceful and welcoming state of Maine.   Such beauty within the woodland, and a seemingly perfect place to call home.  As we drove quietly down the road, my mind wandered, as it so often does, to the history behind the homes that lined the path to, what we were soon to discover, was one of the most horrifically abusive places that we have ever laid our eyes upon.   Were the neighbors blind to the atrocities that occurred just beyond their white picket fences?  Did they not hear the panicked footsteps in the cackling autumn leaves of a child attempting to break free from the clutches that held them with such evil purpose just at the end of the drive?   Were their screams muffled by the sweet sound of songbirds and the rustling of the acorns as they blew in the breeze?  A small farm lies nestled just left of the road…how many broken souls sought refuge within the stalls as they pleaded with a seemingly uncaring society to free them from the hell beyond the emerald green pastures?  


We had learned of this place through friends that we had met through the sweet power of social media.  A couple, much like ourselves, that delve into history and the mystique of crumbling walls, history laden cemeteries and tattered doorways.   Scanning through their pictures, including their own amazing adventures, silly sayings and a true love for their family, we could tell that we would connect with them right away.  We spoke of our love for Maine and how we would welcome any suggestions that they might have that could quench our collective thirst for exploration.   Our conversations with them led to an exploration that we would not soon forget.  A place that through our research, explore and the connection that we would then feel with the Survivors, would forever hold a staggering imprint on our souls.  


The end of Number 5 Road was drawing near, and soon the buildings of the, now abandoned, Elan school began to slowly come into our view. 

Opening its doors in 1970, it was billed as a therapeutic behavioral modification school, that was designed to take in troubled teenagers.  In its genesis and throughout the years, it claimed to be a healing haven for adolescents who were suffering from addiction, mental health issues and a menagerie of other factors that left parents at their wits end.  The peace and serenity of its location would assist in luring parents, and others with what one would assume would be the best interest of the child, into its lair of deceit.   Those who claimed to be experts in the field of recovery and behavioral health would ultimately reap a financial windfall of staggering proportions.  All at what cost?   It would later come to light that the types of behavior modification used were highly abusive and, from what we have found, would leave everlasting psychological scars on many of those who endured the unconventional and highly toxic techniques that were imposed on individuals who were just trying to navigate their way, toward maturity.   


The summer sun was strong as it reflected off the now vacant and silent basketball court.   At first glance, it felt as though we were winding our way through a suburban neighborhood that had heartily been neglected by residential lawn mowers.  Each building reflecting simplicity in its architecture but giving off an atmosphere of camp like sanctuary.  Upon first impression, it would seem benign and peaceful, but the echoes of sadness, anger and desolation were heavy in the air.  We made our way in through an open window.  The soft breeze blowing outside followed us as we entered.   A doorway just beyond swung slightly open as if to beckon our arrival, but our welcome was short lived.  The door closed just as swiftly as it had open and we were left with the echoes of sorrow and pain.  Anyone who knows us, or has watched our adventures on YouTube, knows that we are lighthearted and fun when we explore.  It is our nature to joke around an act like two teenagers discovering everything and anything we see as if we are seeing it all for the first time.   This explore felt different.   Within our research, we had heard the words of the only people who really know what went on within these walls, and knew that we only wanted to honor them and to hold nothing but respect for what they had all gone through as a collective group of survivors.   We kept their stories close to our hearts as we toured each room together.   It is always in our nature to close our eyes and picture the rooms that we are exploring as they once were.  It is an attempt to imagine what they were like when life filled the space around us.  We often speculate about what we are seeing and in this explore, we did the same.   The difference was, we knew that looks can be deceiving.   We were humbled to have each room of our explore explained to us by the people who lived the horror within the walls.  We could never pretend for even a second that we know exactly what they went through in the past.  We can only offer our support and desire to advocate for them in the here and now.


Each room, each item found brought back memories for those who spent time here.   Many of the survivors that we heard from were thankful to see this place in its state of early decay.   Signs of peeling paint and dust covered relics are indicators that no other child will be subjected to the anger and abuse from within.   Having only closed its doors since 2011, there are still reflections of its past that are not quite left to the complete corrosion that we sometimes see on our explores.  What looks now like a well-run school, was once a dormitory filled with kids who were just trying to move forward and do what they had to do just to get out.   The haunting echoes of encounter groups, dealing crews and general meetings filled the air.  The image of a young teenage girl in a dunce cap being ripped to shreds and shedding tears of sadness filled our minds.  The stories of boxing rings, brainwashing, forced hierarchy that led to a Lord of the Flies type of atmosphere, 12 plus steps of bullshit just to use the bathroom, conformity, rage and an overall nightmarish feel broke our hearts and, quite frankly, made us mad as hell.   


The voices of the survivors of Elan have been heard.  There have been bills passed to protect children and adolescents from ever having to suffer through what the survivors of Elan had to deal with.  There are advocates and people who truly have the best interest of the child in their hearts and minds.  Those who created Elan have since passed away, and by all accounts that we have heard, are not at all missed in the world of sane and empathetic human beings.   A resounding agreement of “may they rot in hell” proclaimed.   Their greed leaving a legacy of emotional scarring and post traumatic stress.  As for the survivors, well, the stories of this tight knit group continue to give rise to child advocacy and the support they have for one another is unwavering.   Through the voices that we heard, we know that many have come to terms with the time spent in the woods of Maine, but there are many who still live with their ghosts.  We do not wish to be the catalyst for bringing up nightmarish memories, only to respect each and every person who stepped foot upon its wicked grounds.   And to offer our heartfelt support for their wellbeing and for their futures as they navigate farther away from their past.   We entered this explore as we always do, in search of adventure and imprints of the past, but left humbled and as advocates for the survivors who, in some cases, lost their youth and innocence within these walls. 



Our explore and this blog are dedicated to each and every survivor of Elan.   A very special thank you to all of you who reached out to us.  We know that we struck a few chords of angst as we wandered through each room and we thank you for letting us know just how this explore made you feel.    We want to let you know that we are thinking about you and will hold your stories close to our hearts forever.  


Another big thank you to Todd Nilssen, survivor of Elan and the director of The Last Stop, a moving and emotional documentary featuring the stories of those who knew Elan and its controversial techniques the best…those who actually lived through the nightmare, the survivors.


Please take the time to watch this amazing film.


https://thelaststopfilm.com/product/the-last-stop-2017-video-on-demand/


For more information on the Stop Child Abuse in Residential Programs for Teens act of 2017 please visit…


https://www.congress.gov/bill/115th-congress/house-bill/3024



Thank you for taking the time to read this!   We truly appreciate your support and hope that you will come back and visit this blog and our YouTube channel for more explores and adventures in the future.  And… as always,


Do whatever makes you feel alive!


Jennifer and Marcel

Saying Goodbye

They say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder.  What may seem an eyesore to one person, just might be a beautiful masterpiece to another.  There are places beloved by communities and protected in the hearts of those that hold their memories of its tattered hallways and decayed rooms dear.   This is the way that we feel when we explore places that have been forgotten by time.  Left to rot and decay and only holding the silent whispers of what once was. 

  
We know that there are people out there with malicious intent toward these places that we venture into.  It saddens us when we see the filth and destruction they leave behind, but we want to make something very clear…   We are explorers and lovers of history.  We in no way, shape or form condone the criminal activities that take place in the historical decaying places that we document.   Social media has brought many of these places to the limelight, but the intention is to show the beauty and mystery of abandonment.  Not to invite trouble.   Trouble will find its way on its own and to say that the peaceful documentation of these places leads to criminal activity, is mind blowing.

   

We have met so many amazing fellow explorers in our travels and are so thankful and humbled by the positive responses we have received.   We know that this type of exploration is not for everyone…many people don’t understand why we find such beauty in decay, we can only explain it as a beautiful journey into the past.   We invite you to watch our explores and come along as we visit these amazing places.   As for the criminal activity that occurs, those individuals are responsible for their own actions.  It is a terrible part of our society, but reality, nonetheless. 

 Thank you for taking the time to read this and for loving this location just as much as we do.   We too, were sad to see it go and hope that through this video, the memories held within will remain.

Uploads and Streaming and Death Threats, Oh My!!

The warmth of the April sun kissed our cheeks as we stood just beyond the entrance of the Hoosac Tunnel in the beautiful Berkshires of Massachusetts.  I (the J of J&M) knew that we would be attempting our first video for YouTube and my stomach fluttered a little with nerves and the full-blown feeling of wanting to puke behind a bush.  I never really considered myself camera ready…my hair had a mind of its own, my voice was less than perfect, and I just knew I had about a million ridiculous things to say.  But when I looked into M’s eyes, I knew that all those things really didn’t matter.  We weren’t doing this to become famous, we weren’t filming our adventures for analytics and monetizing (terms I later found out about) we were doing this to document the amazing times we have together!  It was a chance to have fun and, as it has always been our mission in the beginning and still is to this day, to hopefully inspire others to get out there and explore the wonderous world around us.  And so, it began.

 I had never really had any exposure to YouTube, other than the occasional funny viral video that just had to be viewed.  I knew of its existence and had even heard that it could turn regular people, people just like us, into well-known personalities.  I never really gave it much thought and would have never imagined that someday we would end up creating videos of our amazing adventures.  It was slow go at the beginning.  We had one “subscriber”, aka supporter….Wade, Marcel’s son-in-law, who believed in us and hit that  button despite the fact that the two of us are die hard Patriots fans.  Our supporter base began to grow slowly but surely.  We had our first taste of thumbs downs and the occasional “You guys are idiots”, but that didn’t stop us!  We have said it a million times…” We definitely aren’t for everybody!  If you want to watch great!  Come along for the ride, if not…no big deal!”  That is the beauty of YouTube, there is something out there for everyone!  

Not for everyone and PROUD of it!!

As we began to spread our YouTube wings (sorry Twitter, we think you are for the birds), we began to find others that we enjoyed watching and interacting with.  Peaceful walks through the woods with Marlo C, inspiring “get off that couch” moments with Muscle the Russell, amazing explores with Burning Sands Exploration, the Lost Turtle, RNS, Hobie Katt, Rich Discoveries and the Vega Zone.  Funny and extremely entertaining moments with Mr. Fables.  We have been taken to far off lands with Urbexy, Explore 101 Urbex, Kelita K, Exploring with Carl, OneOld Key and Awesome Epic Adventures….just to name a few.  It has been an opportunity to travel the world and gain inspiration from others who share our passion.   

A few months ago, we added another layer to our YouTube experience when we found a few live streams that we swiftly began to enjoy and become a part of.   We began to look forward to Monday, Tuesday and Friday nights!  Live streams are a wonderful time to meet up with others with whom you share common interests.  They have come a long way since the dial up days of  “You’ve got mail” and archaic chat rooms.  Your host appears live on the screen and is the conductor of a symphony of stories to be told, advice to be given and, in most cases, laughter to be had.  A deep and sincere respect began to grow for one of our most favorite conductors.  Exploring with CF…it was, at first, a mystery as to what the CF meant.  Was it the name of the two gentleman that explored many amazing places deep in the heart of our country?  Was it a first and last initial?  We soon learned what the CF meant and, without making the conductor blush, it took our breath away.   You see, the CF stands for cystic fibrosis, a genetic disorder that can affect many organs in the body but tends to affect the lungs the most.  It can cause many debilitating symptoms such as a persistent cough and difficulty breathing.  He does not dwell on the fact that he has this disorder and instead has become an inspiration for many young people who also have been diagnosed with this disease.  As for the two of us, we learned early on not to feel sorry for our friend, only to join him in his quest to inspire others.  We swiftly looked beyond the title and began to learn from this veteran explorer.  Our very own Obi Wan Kenobi.  Now, as for the two of us…exploring is not M’s first rodeo.  As mentioned before, he has been exploring the wonderful world of decay and abandonment for many, many years.  The J (that’s me…duh) is a relative newbie.  Within the streams, we have, even with one of us being extremely experienced, learned many new things and for that we are forever grateful.  Along the way, we just so happened to make many new friendships and, as it so happens…a few enemies as well. 

It all started with laughter amongst friends, telling stories and getting to know others, who, as it just so happens, are real life people behind the swift fingers of a computer keyboard.   Behind the veil of anonymity within the world of social media, lies the entanglement of blessed humanity intertwined so meticulously around a web of malevolent chaos.  We had encountered a fellow explorer with whom we began to form a bond with.  He was funny and engaging and we truly enjoyed visiting his streams.  On Mondays, we talked all things exploring…from cameras to drones to places we have been and dangers we have encountered.  On Fridays, it was a free for all!  Time to laugh and let loose! We had some really great times!!   And then came an unraveling, a downward fall that became extremely difficult to watch…even as I write this, I hesitate, because….You know when you do something and then you regret it and just wish you never said anything in the first place?  The old saying, “Sometimes it’s better to leave well enough alone.” Well, we saw our friend spiraling out of control and, due to the fact that we are both a bit outspoken, did not leave well enough alone.  Although our intentions were, in our minds, for the good.  They were misinterpreted and set off an explosion of hatred, hostility and anger.  Unspeakable threats of violence ensued and although some loyalties were broken, we received a wave of support and caring that we will not soon forget.  It was deflating, but we have rebounded and do not intend for this incident to intrude on our explorations.  We have no ill will and no desire to reopen old wounds, just closing the chapter in this part of our story for good. 

Our participation on streams is still something that we enjoy and look forward to!  There are so many amazing people out there and we are very thankful to have found a way to share our adventures while, through the magic of YouTube, we get to travel the world to come along with others as they explore this wide world of awe-inspiring locations!  Adventure is truly out there!

There are many more explores to be had….more stories to be told!  If you are taking the time to read this…we thank you and hope that we have had some part in inspiring you to get out there and enjoy our world.  Make sure that you pass it along and motivate those around you to get out there and….

As always,  “Do whatever makes you feel alive!!”

Jennifer and Marcel

For more information on Cystic Fibrosis and how you can help please visit…www.cff.org

Abandoned grossinger resort Demolition

Beauty in decay...things are not always what they seem!

Behind the corpse in the reservoir, behind the ghost on the links, behind the lady who dances and the man who madly drinks, under the look of fatigue, the attack of a migraine and the sigh…there is always another story, there is more than meets the eye.  -W.H. Auden  

The dawn of winter has arrived and the chill of its grand entrance has followed us to the familiar village nestled just west of the beautiful Hudson River.  The first Nor’easter of the year has decided to rear its ugly head and attempts to deter us from our prize.   There are those who quell their curiosity when the weather is less than cooperative and then there is J & M.  It is not within our nature to let a little detour from mother nature get in our way. 

It has been a over a year since the vine covered fieldstone in its somewhat uniform architecture captured our attention and drew us into a love affair beyond  imagination.  The haunting remnants of child's play and mysterious structures surround the buildings that were once over 130 in number.   Amazing and beautiful in its decay, it has become the place we long to return to again and again. Diligent research into intriguing locations led to the allure of this spectacular place.   Others had gone before us, including a trio of celebrity ghost hunters, taggers, squatters, explorers and other curious adventurers bewitched by the charms within the darkened hallways and decrepit structures.  As for us, we were captivated immediately by its tragic past and haunted reputation.  You see, not everything is as it seems, and these buildings hold a menagerie of memories.  From the caring and loving hands of those dedicated to the care of those less fortunate, to the dark and sinister acts of betrayal, incompetent care, under-staffing and neglect.   In its creation, it was a philanthropic and noble vision.   Imagine a place where mentally and physically challenged citizens could live together in a caring environment where they would be taught to provide for themselves, farming the land, tending to livestock and caring for one another.  A place that would provide employment to many people in New York and would carry on the legacy of the man who made it all possible.  Over the span of many years, the concept of this utopia grew and the population which should have been held at 3000, exploded well past that margin.  Overworked and understaffed, it was the residents who began to suffer.     Its story brought to the forefront of national headlines would be the catalyst for change in the horribly flawed mental health system.  It would be a beacon of hope for the future of those with mental and physical disabilities.   Through its darkness, the light prevails, and it is through that illumination that our infatuation has blossomed and led us through journeys that most dare not to embark upon.

The defiant wind howls just beyond the corridor, as the stinging rain scolds us for our audacity to explore in such inclement conditions.  It’s of no significance to us, for our hunger for its intrigue holds immunity against any obstacles in our way.   M leads the way toward the closest entranceway.  As a team, we, for the most part, will stick together in the name of safety and my abundant adoration for the partner who has brought to me such joy in our mutual love of exploring.  The disintegrating staircase strains as we make our way into a large awaiting room.  The familiar smell of decay fills the air as we immediately begin our tour within the halls that we have grown to love so much.   I run my fingers along the weathered casing of a long-lost employee instructional book.  It’s pages now tattered, torn and singed with evidence of fire damage, no longer to be read by any sane soul.   Although its relevant existence is over, to us it is a remnant of the once bustling halls of an overcrowded hospital.  A clue to the past.   I look to the ceiling…it too is crumbling, allowing the icy rain to beat down, unwelcomed, upon our heads.  I can only hope that the flooring that we tread so carefully on has not yet succumbed to such deterioration.   With each step, each discovery of forgotten everyday items, unique architecture and mysterious fixtures, my trepidation fades. 

With swift and careful placement of my face mask, we traverse on.   As always, the camera is on and we set on to document our explore through these familiar hallways.  The storm has chased away all rays of light and has set the stage for dramatic views through the peering lens.  Darkness falls swift as we move forward.  Its of no consequence to us.  We love the darkness and have little to no fear of what we will discover.   They say that evil dwells within these walls and perhaps a little discretion might be in order, but our minds are at ease.  I can close my eyes and sense that we are safe.  We may or may not be alone, but evil has yet to make its grand entrance.   Respect for the past, acknowledgment of experiences that others have had here and a general love for the pitch-black pathways, lead the way.  

With youthful excitement, we travel on.  Things are not always as they seem, right?   As we have mentioned in our other writings, we know that we are no longer green and budding.  Our hues are ever changing and although mature in stature, our child-like curiosity for lost places continues to blossom.    It is rejuvenating to seek knowledge and solace amongst peeling paint and somewhat hazardous dust particles.  Although we are no longer young sprouts, our roots have been planted and our desire to bring others along on our adventures continues to grow.  A seed has been planted and we have this wonderful opportunity to bring others along as we discover places long forgotten.   

As we move along the somewhat ominous corridors, I catch site of his sparkling eyes. He has seen many places in his own adventures.   He has been to many places that others only dream of and has brought knowledge and joy to others in his travels to well known ethereal locations.  His love for adventure, exploring and seeking knowledge of the unknown has evolved into an additional passion for documenting and sharing his experiences with others who have interest in all things amazing.  My mind wanders for only a moment...I feel blessed to be here in the shadows with my best friend.   Our mutual passion for exploration has so wonderfully collided and with every step, I know the best is yet to come.   He points the camera into the abyss…”Guess what time it is…” he says with an impish grin.  My own eyes light up, for I know exactly where we are going next!    A small light is lit to guide our way as we round the corner.  There is not a trace of illumination, save for a couple of breaks in the infrastructure, where we are going.  He pauses for a slight dramatic edge as we take the view in.    It might as well be a grand staircase with jewel lined risers and railways.  It evokes excitement and a mysterious calling to descend into the depths of darkness. With childlike exuberance, I skip happily into the void beyond.   A giggle in the gloom, for I am entering my playground.  

We have been scolded in the past for our humorous antics and jovial demeanors when we are in the midst of places known for their tragic occurrences and historical atrocities.   It is true that we often bring our lighthearted personalities into desolation, but it is our honor to bring light into the darkness of such places.   These dwellings have sorrowful history, but are not so consumed by the past that they cannot allow for joy to seep in.   Happiness comes in many forms and can be described in infinite ways.  If not for our delight in decay, the spirit of adventure would be lost in regret.  The spirits that dwell within the hallways have had enough sadness and suffering.    And so, as I lie down upon the cold and clammy slab that once held the bodies of so many lost souls, I close my eyes and pay tribute.  It’s true that it is somewhat of a novelty for me to prove my courage and “hey!  I’m not afraid of nothin” (except bridges and lightning strikes) attitude, but I (and I know that M feels the same way) hold nothing but respect and love for the souls who perished within these walls.   Things are not always what they seem…

Our adventures within these walls are far from over.  We have heard others say how there is just something about this place that draws you in….a certain obsession and longing to return.  Within the structures, grounds and last but certainly not least, amazing tunnel system, lies a magical mystique.  As always, we wish to encourage you to get out and explore on your own.  We know that traveling to certain locations that may be deemed less than prudent to explore might be beyond one’s own desire, so we will happily bring you along with us.   Through our eyes, we hope to bring you joy for the forgotten and a shared love for all things tattered and decayed.   

Close your eyes as we speak to you from the darkness which is our light….”Do whatever makes you feel alive!”    Share your own inspirations with us by leaving a comment and thank you so much for taking the time to read about our adventures! 

-Jennifer and Marcel

J&M Explorations

"Get Busy Living, or Get Busy Dying"

I guess it comes down to a simple choice, really. Get busy living, or get busy dying. -Andy Dufresne (The Shawshank Redemption)

Some days we awake from sweet slumber ready to take the day head on. Bright eyed and eager to face challenge and adversity with courage and strength.  Other days, the challenge lies in the simple act of crawling out from under the covers, wandering half blind through the darkness as we fall deeply into the pit of despair that we so hopelessly call our daily routine.  Infectious melancholy that we harbor deep in our souls as we so willingly succumb to its repetition.  It is within these days of woeful awakenings that the joy and wonder of life can begin to fade quietly into despair.  We are all different.  We have our own stressors and daily obstacles to face.  We all place different value on our stressors and it is easy to get caught up in our own perceived desolation.  And so, it is within these moments that we must choose our daily path.  To get busy living or get busy dying….  

Whether you know us and have been following our adventures on YouTube, or have stumbled across this article by chance, you should know….Both Marcel and I have decided to get busy living!  I’m not saying that we don’t both have our days of gloom and doom (take today for example…nothing but trouble!!), the point is, that even in the days that go directly down the toilet, we never lie down and give up.  We (and by we, I mean me) may whine every now and then and grumble to each other about our own daily stressors, but within those moments of wretched despondency, there is always light.  Radiant illuminations of adventures to come and the bright glow of memories to treasure.

   

Get busy living, or get busy dying.  Every fellow adventurer knows that there is some risk involved in exploring. This past weekend we stood on the banks of the Kennebec River in Richmond, Maine with aspirations of exploring Swan Island, an abandoned and historic settlement full of mystery and wonder.   It was a bitter cold day in November, and we were hell bent on crossing the chilled water with nothing more than a well-loved Coleman canoe separating us from life and certain death (or a really bad case of frost bite). 

As always, trepidation gives way to splendor as courage is fed by trust. There was just no question that we would cross, and cross we did!!  It was our island for the day and we relished every moment of serene exploration. Our thirst for nature and abandoned structures quenched, we forgot all about aching feet, freezing cold temperatures and the inevitable death-defying canoe ride back to the Explore-mobile. To live in the moment and to be the only two people in the whole world exploring that island just at that moment in time, was worth any perceived danger. And so, as we arrived back on the safety of the shoreline and heated seats, we smiled.  Another amazing adventure to treasure and another chance to inspire others to make their own memories…no matter what the stinking weather holds.  There is always the element of danger in exploration, but risk gives way to immunity when one of your greatest loves comes in the form of; pitch black hallways, decaying staircases, whispering souls of history and stunning artifacts from days gone by….just to name a few.

There are many obstacles that by all intents and purposes should deter level headed, mature, responsible and completely sane people from diving headfirst into, and although we are all of those things, our desire for adventure overrides any reservations we may have.  Is it not enough to feel the sting of a razor sharp thorn as it rips unhindered into our thighs while we wander through an abandoned woodland?  Maybe the pungent odor of a million spores of mold dancing dangerously though the air as we peer into rooms betrayed by time. Or possibly, precarious walls and buckling hallways taunting us with their decay.  Maybe just maybe the risk comes in the form of judgement and disapproval of our escapades from those who have no understanding of what we do.  Peril can take many forms when you get busy living.  But here’s the thing…when we have slowed down, when we can no longer push our bodies to their limits, we will sit, our fingers lovingly intertwined as we share our memories with each other…no regrets, for we have lived life to the fullest.  Get busy living….or get busy dying…that’s goddamn right!