1987 (MCMLXXXVII) was a common year that started on a Thursday, in accordance with the Gregorian calendar. It is the 1987th year of the Common Era, or A.D.; the 987th year of the 2nd millennium; the 87th year of the 20th century; and the 8th year of the 1980s decade. It will also be the last year with all the digits being different numbers, until 2013.
The following are references to year 1987 in fiction:
Louis Dearborn L'Amour ( /ˈluːiː ləˈmɔr/; March 22, 1908 – June 10, 1988) was an American author. His books consisted primarily of Western fiction novels (though he called his work 'Frontier Stories'), however he also wrote historical fiction (The Walking Drum), science fiction (The Haunted Mesa), nonfiction (Frontier), as well as poetry and short-story collections. Many of his stories were made into movies. L'Amour's books remain popular and most have gone through multiple printings. At the time of his death some of his 105 existing works were in print (89 novels, 14 short-story collections, and two full-length works of nonfiction) and he was considered "one of the world's most popular writers".
Louis Dearborn LaMoore was born in Jamestown, North Dakota, in 1908, the seventh child of Dr. Louis Charles LaMoore and Emily Dearborn LaMoore. He was of French ancestry through his father and Irish through his mother. Dr. LaMoore was a large-animal veterinarian, local politician and farm-equipment broker who had arrived in Dakota Territory in 1882.
Plot
Liberal district attorney decides to seek the death penalty for a man who slaughtered a family at Christmastime, then drank their blood. He escapes, though, and starts killing again.
Keywords: based-on-novel, based-on-play, blood, capital-punishment, independent-film, shot-to-death, violence
This is the face of Charles Reece, a mass murderer. He doesn't think he's done anything wrong. The real crime is that the jury may agree.
A question of your life or death.
In Modern America, The Boy Next Door Isn't What He Appears To Be.
The terrifying new thriller from William Friedkin, the director of "The French Connection" and "The Exorcist".
Do you set a killer free because he's insane, or kill him because he's not?
They know his madness. They know he kills. Their crime would be to let him live.
You are about to witness a picture of madness
Charlie Reece: [before killing one of his victims] I'm sorry!
Anthony Fraser: [addressing to the jury] The life of an innocent human being worths more than the life of an murderer. Charles Reece must die. Now, I want you to remember that you sit here as representatives of your community, your neighbors, your friends, your children. If you should decide to let this man go free, be absolutely clear in your mind that you are condemning his victims to a second death and saying to your neighbors that the life of a terrible murderer is worth more than the life of the people he killed. Thank you.
Charlie Reece: I hear voices on the radio sometimes.::Albert Morse: What sort of voices, Charles?::Charlie Reece: Music. Telling me to kill. There's this one radio station I listen to. It's the devil station. I listen and I hear Satan telling me to kill. Sometimes I think this isn't real. It's not really messages, it's not making any sense. Then finally I figure it must be truth. So then when I start to lose all my blood, I figured that was Satan poisoning me for not keeping my end of the bargain.
Mel Sanderson: My God. This looks like brains!
Acid-wash Guess with the leather patches
Sportin' the white Diadoras with the hoodie that matches
I'm wearing two Swatches and a small Gucci pouch
I could have worn the Lugi but I left it in the house
Now, my niggas, Duce and Wayne got gold plates with their names
With the skyline on it, with the box link chain
I'm wearing my frames, they match my gear with their tint
And you know Lagerfields is the scent
Now, my nigga Rafael just got his jeep out the shop
Mint green sidekick, custom-made rag top
'Strictly Business' is the album that we play
'You're A Customer', the pick of the day
Now there's a nigga on the block, never seen him before
Selling incense and oil, my man thinks that he's the law
But why on earth would this be on their agenda?
As he slowly approaches the window
"Uh, uh, I've seen you before, I've been you and more
I was the one bearing the pitcher of water
I rent the large upper room, furnished with tidings of your doom
Or pleasure, whichever feathers decrease"
Yo Ralph, is he talking to me?
"No I'm talking to the sea son's resurrected
I'm the solstice of the day
I bring news from the blues of the Caspian"
My man laughs, he's one them crazy motherfuckers
Turn the music back up 'cause I'm the E-Double
"Wait, but, but, but, but I know the volume of the sea
And sound waves as I will
Will you allow me to be at your service?"
My man Ralph is nervous, he believes
That this strange tongue deceives
And maybe he's been informed that
He's pushing gats hidden in the back, beneath the floor mats
Come on Jack, we don't have time for your bullshit or playin'
A'salaam a something' or another
"Wait isn't Juanita your mother?"
"I told you I know you, now grant me a moment"
At the gates of Atlantis we stand
Ours is the blood that flowed from the palms of his hands
On the plow till earth till I'm now
Moon cycles revisited, womb fruit of the sun
Full moon of occasions wave the wolves where they run
And we run towards the light casting love on the winds
As is the science of the aroma of sleeping women
Lost in his eyes they soon reflect my friend's are grinning
But I'm a pupil of his sight, the wheels are spinning
Yo, I'll see ya'll later on tonight
In the beginning her tears where the long awaited rains
Of a parched Somali village
Red dusted children danced shadows
In the newfound mound of mascara that eclipsed her face
Reflected in the smogged glass of Carlos, east street bodega
Learning to love, she had forgotten to cry
Seldom hearing the distant thunder in her lovers ambivalent sighs
He was not honest, she was not sure
A great grandmother had sacrificed
The family's clarity for God in the late 1800's
Nonetheless she had allowed him to mispronounce her name
Which had eventually led to her misinterpreting her own dreams
And later doubting them but the night was young
She the firstborn daughter of water faced darkness and smiled
Took mystery as her lover and raised light as her child
Man, that shit was wild, you should have seen how they ran
She woke up in a alley with a gun in her hand
Tupac in lotus form minutes, blood on his hands
She woke up on a vessel, the land behind her
The sun within her, water beneath her
Mushed corn for dinner or was it breakfast
Her stomach turned as if a compass
She prayed the east and lay there breathless
They threw her overboard for dead
She swam silently and fled into the blue sea
La soh fa mi, re do, si
The seventh octave, I don't mean to confuse you
Many of us have been taught to sing
And so we practice scales
Many of us were born singing
And thus were born with scales
Mermaids, cooks and field hands
Sang a nightsong by the forest
And the ocean was the chorus
In Atlantis where they sang
Those thrown overboard had overheard
The mystery of the undertow
And understood that down below
There would be no more chains
They surrendered breath and name
And survived countless as rain
I'm the weather man
The clouds say storm is coming
A white buffalo was born, already running
And if you listen very close, you'll hear a humming
Beneath the surface of our purpose lies
Rumors of ancient man, dressed in cloud face minstrels in the sky
The moon's my mammy, the storm holds my eye
Dressed in westerlies
Robed by robes ol' man river knows my name
And the reason you were born is the reason that I came
Then she looks me in the face
And her eyes get weak
Pulse rate descends, hearts rate increase
Emcees look me in the face and their eyes get weak
Pulse rates descends, hearts rate increase
Emcees look me in the face and their eyes get weak
Pulse rates descends, hearts rate increase
It's like "beam me up, Scottie", I control your body
I'm as deadly as AIDS when it's time to rock a party
We all rocked fades, fresh faded in ladidadi
And when we rock the mic, we rock the mic
And when we rock the mic, we rock the mic
And when we rock the mic, we rock the mic
But let's look feminine side, ignore the feminine side
Let's the feminine side, ignore the feminine side
Let's the feminine side, ignore the feminine side
Let's the feminine side
I presented my feminine side with flowers
She cut the stems and placed them gently down my throat
It was 1987
It all changed for me that year
I got on a plane and flew
somewhere away form here
I called you when I landed
told you I was safe
said that I'd come home again someday
Juče sam sluš'o vesti na radiju,
poseban osvrt na pucnjavu u Persiji.
Sve ređe spominju drug' Hamdiju,
suviše njih je na veresiji.
Nesreća jedna, jadna i bedna '87!
Na svetskoj berzi laju kerovi,
nek' dolar propadne, tu su naše menice.
Ne plaše mene krupni zverovi
nego krvopije i stenice.
Nesreća jedna, jadna i bedna '87!
Decu ubijaju na spavanju,
plaši me da se ne podigne vampir četnički,
šta vampir zna o iseljavanju,
i on sve vidi čisto etnički.
Nesreća jedna, jadna i bedna '87!
I negde sasvim u dnu novina
mala i beznačajna vest,
da jedan peva deset godina,
otpev'o je i on svoje,
gotovo, gotovo je!
Juče sam gled'o televiziju,
neshvaćen genij, drug Fadilj na teškoj muci je.
Ne shvata niko moćnu viziju,
ne dižu javne institucije.
Nesreća jedna, jadna i bedna '87!
'Ajmo deco...
U Novom Sadu demonstracije,
poznata priča, i ovde je kriva menza.
Na ulicama mladost nacije,
e sad nam jedino fali još Lech Valensa.
Tuga jedna, jadna i bedna '87!
I negde sasvim u dnu novina
mala i beznačajna vest,
da jedan peva deset godina,
otpev'o i on svoje,
gotovo, gotovo je!
I neki drug je opet digao glas.
Drug nam je ponovo zbog svega drž'o govor.
Da, on je opet malo vik'o na nas,
do kraja govor je postao čisti horor!
Tuga jedna, jadna i bedna '87!
Slučaj tih gradjana je zamršen,
niko im još ne sme reći da štede snagu,
i da je rat nedavno završen
i da su Rusi već na Reichstag-u.
Nesreća jedna, jadna i bedna '87!
La, la, la, la, la... Oleo!
La, la, la, la, la, la, la...
Jadna i bedna '87!
Jadna i bedna '87! Blesava!
Jadna i bedna '87! Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop!
Jadna i bedna '87!
Jadna i bedna '87! Najgora godina!
Jadna i bedna '87!
Jadna i bedna '87!
Jadna i bedna '87!
1987 época de gloria
una tarde de diciembre
hacía mucho calor
represión policial
arde el obelisco
y la policía la pudrió.
1987 época de gloria
una tarde de diciembre
hacía mucho calor
represión policial
arde el obelisco
y la policía la pudrió.
Época de gloria, época de gloria !
Época de gloria, época de gloria !
Época de gloria, época de gloria !
Época de gloria, época de gloria !
I believe in all the visions that you've made up in your mind
I believe in the point of here and now you read these lines
Got a word to say; Just save the day
In the game you take your part
The evil game lives forever more
While every player shall die
Don't hide and fear the dark
Don't go astray for light
Just take your time tonight
This too will pass
Fly away on the wings of moments that you're breathing out
Fly away, don't rely on the worlD it's turning round and round
It's the way we choose and got nothing to lose
In the game we call "our lives"
All that appears will turn to dust
Like every soul shall rise
Don't hide and fear the dark
Don't go astray for light
Just take your time tonight
This too will pass