"The sleep of Reason brings forth monsters."

There aren't enough swear words to fully express my reaction . . . scroll down to Coney Island Death Watch Halloween Edition: New Renderings

I seriously hope whatever gets built there? Spontaneously implodes before it opens. I don't want anyone to die, but I want enough property damage to happen, and on such a scale, that Thor equities--the assholes that have the stones--fucking audacity to knock down my amusement park uses the very last of their fortune--that they're gonna pour into wrecking a national monument--to salt the soon-to-blighted earth on which they're gonna perpetrate the foulest misdeed since--I don't know what.

How the dare they? This is Coney fucking Island. You do not tear it down, you do not improve upon. You don't remodel the childhoods of millions of New Yorkers until they can't even reconcile memory with reality.

. . . a grand vision of the famed summer amusement area's rundown streets being transformed into a glitzy year-round playground and public attraction.In one image, Stillwell Avenue becomes a fantasy-filled boulevard marked by larger-than-life street furniture, such as a mermaid swimming in a martini glass and a gigantic tattooed elephant.

If the people at Thor had bothered to get the opinions of real New Yorkers--those of us from the Five Borroughs or Long Island, and therefore the only New Yorkers who count--we coulda told them that every idea in that paragraph? Is a shit idea. What the fuck do New Yorkers want with that kinda overdone, Atlantic City-style bullshit? This ain't Vegas. Cirque Du Soleil does not live in here.

Coney Island isn't the safest place in the world. A lot of the time, it's downright perilous, depending on the time of day and the time of year. The park itself can be creepy-good fun. I'm pretty sure there's still an actual freak show there. All the pitch-til-u-win games are rigged. Everything you get at Nathan's is scorched and covered with carcinogens. Every summer, I keep an ear out in case the Cyclone--made out of wood, a roller coaster made out of fucking wood--finally collapses and takes a whole bunch of stupid teenagers with it--

For Christ's sake, I once almost got landed on by a dude parachuting out of an airplane as part of some airshow! Swear to god. My mom literally yanked me out of the way, just as he landed on the boardwalk.

That's the kinda place my Coney Island is. Not this--monstrosity that's about to be unrolled on my fair borrough and the world (New York City) at large.

Coney Island, as it stands, suits its community, safety issues aside. I wouldn't touch the Coney Island Thor's proposing with a ten foot pole. I would sooner never go there again than see it . . . compromised.

But let's see how long all that shiny, touristy carny crap lasts on Stillwell Ave. Between the gangs, the shake downs from the Russian mafia, the shakedowns from the Mafia mafia and the hordes of mentally disturbed that call the area home. . . .

Do the Thor corp-rats have any idea what they're getting into? How little this plan fits any of the people they're counting on for most of their revenue? NYCers don't wanna see this kinda shit in their backyard.

Let's see how long that fantasy-filled boulevard nonsense lasts once the heart of New York City, of Brooklyn, of Coney Island--the one and only, the real Coney Island--starts seeping through. Let's just see.