Sunset Star 7 by Brian Sapere


Part 1



Throughout this Q&A series, the voice of the narrator (Linda Jo) is light turquoise.



“You seem to be in an especially good mood tonight…”

Alex Horn: “I’m ALWAYS ‘in essence’ — can’t you see that?”



“What made you decide to become a teacher?”

A: “I was BORN to be a teacher! It was no accident or mere coincidence that [some notorious guru] died the night I was born. When I heard about this, I knew right then and there that I was born to take his place – MEANT to be – DESTINED to be – another great leader and Fisher of Men – Self-observing, Self-remembering, Self-evolving No. 4 Man – Balanced Man – Conscious Man – REAL Man – Teacher of ‘the Work’ and all the great religions, teachers and teachings in the world!”



“Did you ever have a regular job?”

A: “I was a garbage man!”



”What was your relationship like with your mother…?”

A: “My ‘mother’?  She bullied me to death and controlled every move I made – even when I was in college.  She drove my poor father – a kind and gentle rabbi – into an early grave.”



“Have you ever tried hallucinogenic drugs?  LSD, hash, peyote or mescaline?”

A: “No.”



“What do you think of the Beatles and their great new album?" (Abbey Road)

A: “What are the Beatles compared to Bach?”



“What happened to your teeth…? ”

A: “I had to get them pulled out and wear dentures.”




A: “My dentist said I had ‘self-cleaning teeth and didn’t have to brush like other people did'.”



“You only believed that yarn because it made you feel special!”





Graphic Language Ahead!



I'm not sure when or where he began, but in the Sonoma hills and spring of 1970, Alex Horn was feeling "duty-bound," entitled and compelled to "fight boys" in the Study House and "fuck girls" in the Men's House, to display his prowess and prove that HE was the so-called "top cock" and "fox in the hen house" – "the only REAL man and healthy animal with enough strength, balls and cock to fuck and 'break' a horse, as well as 'a harem' of self-willed females, young fillies and healthy heifers." 


Many of his "female students"/rape victims got married for protection, while others wound up in a hospital – or an early grave (including my college friend Susan), as predicted by the cocky, middle-aged, married predator, "teacher" and "father":



   "This self-willed girl is probably gonna kill herself soon," said the fox (with a wry smile and chuckle) in the hen house. 


Summer – 1970



One of the starkest realities is that sexual predators are stunningly effective at gaining control over their victims.


There are two basic predatory types: the power-predator and the persuasion-predator. The power-predator charges like a bear, unmistakably committing to his attack . . . Accordingly, he strikes only when he feels certain he'll prevail.


Gavin de Becker, in his Forward to Dr. Anna Salter's book, Predators, Pedophiles, Rapists, and Other Sex Offenders: Who They Are, How They Operate, and How We Can Protect Ourselves and Our Children



15. ton2uDecember 7, 2014 – Fellowship of Friends Discussion blog


13. Linda


re: “To name something correctly…” in the past I’ve thought of burton and his ilk as “sociopaths” – which may be part of the picture but it’s worse than that… plenty online info comparing sociopaths with psychopaths.


“…Psychopaths, on the other hand, are unable to form emotional attachments or feel real empathy with others, although they often have disarming or even charming personalities. Psychopaths are very manipulative and can easily gain people’s trust. They learn to mimic emotions, despite their inability to actually feel them, and will appear normal to unsuspecting people…. Psychopathy is the most dangerous of all antisocial personality disorders because of the way psychopaths dissociate emotionally from their actions, regardless of how terrible they may be.”


light reading on a dark subject:


16. ton2u




A Review by
James M. Craven



Anna Mikulak
Association for Psychological Science

Everyday Sadists Take Pleasure in Others' Pain

Sept 12, 2013


Most of the time, we try to avoid inflicting pain on others [and] when we do hurt someone, we typically experience guilt, remorse, or other feelings of distress. But for some, cruelty can be pleasurable, even exciting. New research suggests that this kind of everyday sadism is real and more common than we might think.


Two studies led by psychological scientist Erin Buckels of the University of British Columbia revealed that people who score high on a measure of sadism seem to derive pleasure from behaviors that hurt others, and are even willing to expend extra effort to make someone else suffer.


The new findings are published in Psychological Science, a journal of the Association for Psychological Science.


"Some find it hard to reconcile sadism with the concept of 'normal' psychological functioning, but our findings show that sadistic tendencies among otherwise well-adjusted people must be acknowledged," says Buckels. "These people aren't necessarily serial killers or sexual deviants but they gain some emotional benefit in causing or simply observing others' suffering."


Based on their previous work on the "Dark Triad" of personality, Buckels and colleagues Delroy Paulhus of the University of British Columbia and Daniel Jones of the University of Texas El Paso surmised that sadism is a distinct aspect of personality that joins with three others – psychopathy, narcissism, and Machiavellianism – to form a "Dark Tetrad" of personality traits.



Machiavellian: Conduct or philosophy based on (or one who adopts) the cynical beliefs of Niccolo Machiavelli (1469-1527) whose name (in popular perception) is synonymous with deception and duplicity in management and statecraft. Born in Florence (Italy), Machiavelli was its second chancellor and (in 1513) wrote the book The Prince that discusses ways in which the rulers of a nation state can gain and control power.  Although The Prince contains some keen and practical insights into human behavior, it also displays a pessimistic view of human nature and condones opportunistic and unethical ways of manipulating people. One of its suggestions reads: "Whoever desires to found a state and give it laws, must start with assuming that all men are bad and ever ready to display their vicious nature."




Alex Horn, taking center stage in his own misogynistic, Machiavellian way and feckless (4 1/2 hour) play: "The Fantastic Arising of Padraic Clancy Muldoon, mounted by a new troupe, the Everyman Theater, which performed in a reconverted gymnasium at 24th and Mission Street." (1973)


       Prologue To Audience


If self-knowledge is the aim of man,
There is no meaning in the life we live.
For man, lawful master of the earth,
Has given up his birthright.
Learned men of high repute,
Philosophers, kings and sages,
All agree we live a life of hollow pretense.
Having touched the length, the width, the height,
Man at last is out of breath,
Flailing in the depth.
Ten thousand years of seeking the answer to the same dilemma,
Brings no greater wisdom than we had before.
We know the bee, the rat, the snail;
But man's the riddle we can't unravel.
We are assailed by treasonous voices,
Mystified, polluted and bewildered,
The issue's still unsolved.
No papal oath promising ablution,
No presidential commission
Can illuminate this strange enigma, Man.
Is he monkey, God or devil?
Is he dust or spirit, flesh or vapor?
Lover, hater, God forsaker?
Or compound vegetable, animal, mineral?
A starry hoax, an absurd joke?
Or God's impossible ultimate hope?
The greatest mystery on the earth,
The king of apes, the status seeker.
Something must be done, we know,
With this menace who's refused
To be his brother's keeper.
The age of royalty is dead.
Monarchy and priesthood have failed us.
Now dawns the day of ordinary man.
On him we place our final hope.
Ladies and gentlemen, help us if you can.
Usher in the long-awaited era of the brotherhood of man!


. . . . . . . . .


ACT I (Scene 1)


MARY:  Wake up Man!  Wake up! Get out of bed Paddy!

PADRAIC:  Wake up, is it?  The whole world’s going directly to hell, and I’ll not get out of bed ‘til it mends its ways.

MARY:  Oh stop speechifying you fat tub of lard and get up!

PADDY:  Not ‘til the world changes its direction.

MARY:  Be on your way.  The University is calling you.

PADDY:  I’ll not to the University today Mary.

 MARY:  When will you stand on your own two good feet that God gave you and be the man I know – the man you are?

PADDY:  When the world gets out of the mess it’s in.  ‘Til then it’s sweet sleep for me and sour living for them.

MARY:  Have you not heard, Padraic Clancy Muldoon, the sun is shining yet.  It’s a beautiful day!  On a day like this God must still be in His heaven.

PADDY:  And who out there will believe you lass?  Go to the window and look at them.  As for me, I’m fed up with looking.  They appear to be men.  Don’t be deceived.  It’s a likeness only.  A shadow only.  Killing, stealing, lying, cheating, betraying.

MARY:  Men have always done that Paddy.  We must go on.

PADDY:  Men!  Don’t talk to me of men.  Animals only.  Only knowing how to destroy.  Polluting the world with their filth.

MARY:  And still the earth is glorious yet.

PADDY:  And will these foul pestilential greedy little maggots let her live?  They’ll not be content ‘til they kill every living thing, and cover her with the scum of themselves.  Not content to die in their own stench, they insist on killing God’s good green earth as well.

MARY:  This will bring no good.  Life is for the living.

PADDY:  Yes, for the living, and not for the dead.  Why then do the dead steal the place of the living?  Tell me that then, if you can.

MARY:  Paddy, come out of your ill temper in God’s name and enjoy what’s left.

PADDY:  Away with your maudlin sentimentalizing, Woman!

MARY:  And an end to your dark philosophizing.  It’s a pity people have forgotten how to live, but we must enjoy the good fruit of the land.  We have our children yet, and in them life is sweet.  Come man!  Rise up!! Here come our little ones.

PADDY:  Woman, do you take me for a fool?  Life is a bad dream.  An intelligent man will have none of it.  I’ll to bed.  Wake me up when it’s all over and it’s curtains for the world.

MARY:  It’ll be too late then.  We’ll all be dead.

PADDY:  And won’t it be a good thing too?  The universe will be rid of its experiment gone astray.  And then we’ll all get some peace and quiet.  There must be an awful pounding in God’s ears in this year of our Lord 1972.  Have a heart and give the Great Man some quiet, and me too, I say.

MARY:  The universe will only have to try again.

PADDY:  What are you blabbing about now?  Try again for what?  What are you talking about?

MARY:  You told me so yourself.

PADDY:  Told you what?

MARY:  That Man is a great experiment conducted by Great Nature herself, the servant of the soul of the world, to see if she could produce a being capable of reaching the stars and finding God, becoming Divine itself.

PADDY:  Sweet Jesus!  I never said any such thing.

MARY:  You did Paddy, and there’s no denying it.  You swore it was true – as true as you loved me.

PADDY:  There’s a changeable love at best, in a very changeable Universe.  I was deluded fantastically.  It was the ecstasy of youth which sent poetry through my heart upon beholding you.

MARY:  And yet when you courted me you swore it was true.

PADDY:  It was true and still is.  Unfortunately the experiment has failed, and Man has gone awry.  They’ve even announced it in the Daily News:  God is dead!  And then only a short leap to Man is dead.  And now they’re putting those gorgeous sentiments into practice.  I’ve seen enough!  It’s the end of the world.  I’ll close my eyes on this nightmare and sleep it off – sleep ‘til the end of time.

MARY:  (Stretches out on bed)  What would you do if I slept all day?

PADDY:  I’d take advantage of your position, and straddle you with love.

MARY:  Oh no, you don’t, Patrick Muldoon!

PADDY:  Oh yes, I do, my sweet, my love.  Since when have you lost the desire to take the full weight of the man you love?

MOLLY:  (Age 8):  Daddy’s making love to Mom again.

SEAN: (Age 10)  Doesn’t he ever get tired?

MARY:  Paddy!  The children!!

PADRAIC:  Bring them to bed with us.  We’ll educate them early.  We’ll lie naked as a pair of pagans and let them romp between – recipients of the honey of our love.  They’ll suck up knowledge like pomegranates from the rind.

MARY:  Oh Paddy, you’re out of your mind.

[Etc., etc.]

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . Page 20 – 24


PADRAIC:  How did I ever get sent to this asshole of the Universe?  God must have been daft.  I’ll curse him for wasting such a good man as me on these savages.  What crime have I committed that he put me here?

FATHER MURPHY:  Well, get out of bed Man.  This bed’s no good for living.

PADRAIC:  Why this bed is good for everything.  Eating, sleeping, loving, conceiving children, fornicating.  Why I can sit on it, lie on it, bounce on it, stand on it.  It could be the observatory of Heaven.  Or the forecastle of a ship.  I could be a ploughman at the fields.  Here am I at the wheel plowing through the heavy seas.  All aboard, that’s coming aboard.

MOLLY:  What is it Daddy?

PADRAIC:  The ship of state.  For lovers, lunatics and clowns.

SEAN:  Where are we going?

PADRAIC:  Through the midnight sky.  It was a bed.  It’s now a rocket ship.  We’re off to find a hole in the sky.  Blast off lieutenant!

SEAN:  Aye, aye, Captain.

PADRAIC:  Now to Venus, Saturn and Mars.

MARY:  Will you never stop filling their heads with imagination?

PADRAIC:  Imagination’s divine.  The Immortal Sovereign of the World!  The inmost faculty of God!  Who will learn the secret of World Creation?

MOLLY:  Me, me.

SEAN:  Me.

PADRAIC:  I know a magician named Imagination.  The great Magician who casts his spell and we the dreamer caught, caught, caught in his web.  Watch him take wing.  Come on, we’ll follow, no matter how far the journey.

            (Both children jump on Paddy’s back as he stands on the bed.)

PADRAIC:  We’ll climb on his back and spiral up, up, up throughout the seven worlds.  Who follows his sweet reign contains heaven and earth and all the worlds between.  I’ll follow him to the end of time for he’s immense.  But first, are you strong, and are you brave?  Who[ever] rides Imagination must have a clean, brave mind.

SEAN:  Yes, yes.

MOLLY:  Yes.

PADRAIC:  All right now, up, up, up we go, flying through the rooftop of the world.  Here’s the first world.  That’s you, you, you, and you.  For each of us is a world entire.

UNCLE BILL and MIKE:  Aye, that’s a world.  And now for number two.

PADRAIC:  Humanity on the earth.  If you tire, hold on tight.  For here comes number three.  This ball of Earth.  Oh World within worlds spinning!  Are you dizzy?  We’ve just spun into world four.  The Solar system within the galaxy.  This is a ride you’ll never forget.  Can you count to five?  Things are getting hot.  We’re swimming in the fire of a billion suns lost amidst the stars of our Galaxy.  Here come six!  Our minds are bursting.  We’ve reached the infinite Universe itself!  And now comes seven!  We’ll really have to stretch.

MOLLY:  Will we find God?

PADRAIC:  Let’s call out and see.  Oh Lord!

MOLLY:  God, God, God.

PADRAIC:  Drat, he’s on vacation.

MOLLY:  What’s that?

PADRAIC:  He’s vacated the universe and left us to our own devices.  Look out!  We’re gonna crash.  This world’s a prison.  That’s for sure.  If only I could find the exit.

FATHER MURPHY:  What’s ailing you then Man?  Why aren’t you romping in the noonday sun?

PADRAIC:  I’m in mourning for the nation.

FATHER M:  Poor Ireland.

PADRAIC:  Not Ireland.  My country.  I’m American now.  The President is dead!

UNCLE MIKE:  It’s full seven years [ago]  Paddy.

PADRAIC:  It seems like only yesterday.  And now the Senator, his brother dead.

UNCLE BILL:  Two years now, Paddy.

PADRAIC:  And with him the Priest, the conscience of his race, is dead.  Oh God, will murder never end?  The Great Beast has freed himself from his dark hole and wends his way toward Calvary again.  And the world cries glory to the beast.  The world cries death, death.  And I’m to march for peace.

MARY:  The boys expect it.  You’re their spiritual leader.

PADRAIC:  Their spiritual enema, you mean.

MARY:  They pin all their hopes on you.  Your mind has roused them from their slumber.  Three days now they’ve been waiting on the front step to see you.  The world is crying “Muldoon, Muldoon.”  And you lying in ease the length of the bed.

PADRAIC:  I’m growing stupider by the moment.  Oh, to unlearn all the uses of this dull world and slip backward to the womb of time, and exit.  What’s the way out from this world of grief?  Does anyone know?  How do people live with death and decay and corruption in the air?  How can they bear the barbarism of it all?

GREAT-GRANDFATHER:  Something’s terribly wrong with this country.  Where are the fighting men – men who’ll take a stand and not back down to any man?

MICHAEL:  They’ve all been shot down.  All our brave leaders shot down.

G-GRANDFATHER:  Aye, And there’s nothing can be done.  No one who’ll fight for what’s right.

PADRAIC:  The evil’s too strong.

G-GRANDFATHER:  Come on.  Get out of bed.  We’ll go out and fight the world ourselves.  We’ll face up to them.

GRANDMOTHER:  You’re too old father.  Your fighting days are done.

G-GRANDFATHER:  Who says I’m too old, daughter?  Never too old for a good fight.  A man who can’t fight any more might just as well be dead.

PADRAIC:  And I, a peace-loving man who wouldn’t hurt a fly.  Surrounded by fighting men.  Violence on every side.

MARY:  You peace-loving . . . Huh?

G-GRANDFATHER:  Ah, and your father, Paddy.  What a proud man was he!  Why he would stand up to the whole world and not budge an inch!  He was a man!

GRANDMOTHER:  Aye, he was that.  Every inch a man.  He wooed me and with the same breath off to the war he went, with barely enough time to conceive you.  “Where you going” I says, with my panties half off.  “I’m for the Revolution,” he answered, “to make men free.”  “What about me” I cried.  “Ireland shall be free,” he answered.  That was your father.  He died a hero – betrayed.

G-GRANDFATHER:  As Ireland was betrayed.

MICHAEL:  As the whole world’s betrayed.

PADRAIC:  So goes the world:  betrayed, betrayed, betrayed . . .Children, promise me you’ll be failures.  Catch butterfly wings, but not success.  Rub your toes in sand; ride lizard’s backs, but not success.

MARY:  Paddy!! That’s no way to teach the children.

PADRAIC:  This age Mary – the triumph of mediocrity.  Would you have me teach them to take part in that?

SEAN:  Why not Daddy?

PADRAIC:  It’ll make a monkey out of you.  You’ll have bad breath.  You’ll stink.  The coffee’s good.

MARY:  Agnes is coming over.

            (Padraic caughs up coffee.)

MARY:  With Herb and Bernard.  She asked me if she could.

            (Padraic spits out coffee.)



. . . . . . . . . . . . Page 25 – 27


(Enter Herb, Agnes and Bernard.  Silence.  Everyone stands around mournful. Paddy hits Father in leg.)

FATHER MURPHY:  I’m sorry to announce he’s . . . he’s. . .(Paddy keeps hitting Father in leg.) He’s. . .

AGNES:  He’s not.

FATHER MURPHY:  Yes, I’m afraid so.

HERB:  He was a dear man.

BERNARD:  My favorite Uncle.

PADRAIC:  (Rises up suddenly in bed) Yahoo!!!

                          (They all cry out.)

AGNES:  Oh, my God!  You gave us all such a fright.

                   (Paddy’s hand creeps up her dress.)

AGNES: Oh, you dirty man!

PADRAIC:  Just testing your virtue, Agnes.

HERB:  That’s my wife, Padraic.

PADRAIC:  We’re all one big, happy family.  Share and share alike.

HERB:  Oh.

                 (Enter Mary)

AGNES:  How can you put up with such a beast?  I hear he sleeps with all his students.

PADRAIC:  Just some of them Agnes – just some of them.

AGNES:  You dirty, nasty man!  How could you do such a thing?

PADRAIC:  How could I not?  How else could I teach them?  What else is worth learning for a young girl?  These hot and eager maidens burning to gain knowledge of the world.

AGNES:  You’re a monster.

PADRAIC:  Come here, Agnes.  I’ll teach you something.

AGNES:  Stay away from me you pig!  You devil!

PADRAIC:  Aye, and what’s better than to put the Devil into Hell?  Come here sister, I’ll quench your fire.  And you’ll soon be rolling your eyes to heaven.

AGNES:  Don’t touch me!

PADRAIC:  What you need Agnes is a good tumble in the hay.

AGNES:  Oh, you’re positively indecent.

PADRAIC:  Now your high Anglican virtue’s showing.

MARY:  That would be incest, Paddy.

PADRAIC:  Not at all.  She’s your sister.

FATHER MURPHY:  The law forbids it.

PADRAIC:  Oh, the stiff formality of the law.  It’s enough to make you puke in or out of season.  We’re all prisoners of the law.  And yet this world’s unlawful.  Let’s break the world apart and fly to regions that now we only dream of.

AGNES:  Men!  You’re all alike!  There are too many men.  They should all be sterilized.

PADRAIC:  Ah, you want to sterilize the nation?  Let America die of impotence?

AGNES:  You!  You’d like all women to breed like rabbits – be breeding grounds for you.

PADRAIC:  It’s true.  I’d like to populate the nation.  Oh, what a grand and glorious occupation!  Cock-a-doodle do!!!

AGNES:  You conceited stud!  How do you live with him, Mary?

MARY:  It’s not easy.




From The Mask of Sanity: An Attempt to Clarify Some Issues About The So-called Psychopathic Personality, by Dr. Hervey M. Cleckley:

The [psychopath] is unfamiliar with the primary facts or data of what might be called personal values and is altogether incapable of understanding such matters. It is impossible for him to take even a slight interest in the tragedy or joy or the striving of humanity as presented in serious literature or art. He is also indifferent to all these matters in life itself. Beauty and ugliness, except in a very superficial sense, goodness, evil, love, horror, and humour have no actual meaning, no power to move him.

He is, furthermore, lacking in the ability to see that others are moved. It is as though he were colour-blind, despite his sharp intelligence, to this aspect of human existence. It cannot be explained to him because there is nothing in his orbit of awareness that can bridge the gap with comparison. He can repeat the words and say glibly that he understands, and there is no way for him to realize that he does not understand.


. . . Whatever these people may be called, they are not normal.



From The Psychopath Next Door 2014 Documentary

Published on Dec 27, 2016


"Psychopaths don't act or look crazy. They're not mentally ill. In fact, they're masters at appearing normal. Their main defect – what psychologists call 'severe emotional detachment' – is harder to diagnose than schizophrenia or bipolar disorder. They don't feel emotion but act as if they do. They know right from wrong, but lack remorse and empathy. Psychopaths are pathological liars who love to con and manipulate others."



Part 2