Connect to Today "A hellhole with a claim on history," Bill Keller wrote in a March 1994 New York Times article describing Sharpeville, just before South Africa's first elections with universal suffrage.
But the merriment here is countered by a smaller image (1977) of the playland as a hellhole, with a grisly clown holding grotesque masks; rockets and an enemy plane in the air; grim men on horseback rushing off in the foreground; and amusement rides like Wonder Wheel seen as sardonic mockeries.
Perhaps people have realised that some aspects of gentrification are, y'know, actually quite good, and that it's better to witness that than the one that's turned the rest of the country into a homogenised hellhole with a ham and cheese croissant on every corner that hasn't been subsumed into the Slug and Lettuce empire.
The basic plot of the films is that a group of people, preferably women, will walk into a hellhole where a maniac with the mind of an Abu Ghraib guard will inflict physical pain using whatever tools they can get their hand on.
One of them reported that Bruno had called Christ "a dog cuckold fucked dog" and had given him the finger — a not unreasonable action on the part of a man who had been locked up for months in a Venetian hellhole, with four other, equally maddened prisoners.
Now it's a tepid agglomeration of parking lots and apartment towers, but back in the late 1800s, it was a great place to smell the vestigial stench from the Collect Pond, take in a street fight or two, get chloroformed, and wake up in a tumble-down hellhole with no money in your pocket, a big bump on your head and a great story to tell your friends.
It's a fairly squalid hellhole with no sign but it's actually a really comfortable place.
It was also, I learned, scrolling down, a hellhole manned by human ferrets, with overflowing toilets and mephitic smells that had tragically ruined the honeymoon of vox12populi and Iwantmyrum, who were now exacting revenge by describing their nightmarish experience on every message board they could find.
The story repeatedly and irritatingly zigzags between 2002 and 1986, when Jonathan, then a middle-schooler nicknamed Milk, lived in a project overrun with drug addicts that is visualized as a hellhole as awful as any prison.
GQ magazine portrayed it as a hellhole of testosterone and tattoos, where drunken oilworkers shower strippers with cash and get into fights because there's nothing else to do.
The program started with footage of the Greens senator Sarah Hanson-Young calling the island a "hellhole".
