Evil-unveiled.com/Gort

Chris Nolan - DECEASED

Age:	45 yo at the time of his death
Birthdate:	November 15, 1960
Occupation:	N/A
Location:	Lakewood/Rocky River, Ohio
Physical Description:
Affiliations:
Organizations:	BoyChat
Individuals:	Sparks
Synopsis:
Chris Nolan AKA Gort was a known pedophile and BoyChat member who committed suicide by hanging in September, 2005 in Rocky River, Ohio.

Chris Nolan AKA Gort was a dangerous pedophile and well-known member of BoyChat. In fact, he was considered the "godfather" of BoyChat and was an active poster and moderator. In this quote, he describes how he came up with his nick:

Gort is a robot from The Day the Earth Stood Still.

Chris Nolan was romantically involved with Phillip Distasio AKA Sparks, a convicted sex offender who is accused of raping children. It is believed that Nolan may have had sexual contact with the children, as well.

Quotes

In Reply to: I am a boylover...

posted by Gort on February 01, 1999 at 16:44:24:

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I am a BoyLover, in this world of mythes where a lot of people hate us, even my parents don't agree with who I am.

But I don't care about thoses people because being a BoyLover make me happy and all my Boys are happy too that I love them. I'm proud of who I am and every BoyLovers should be too (and I'm sure they are). We don't hurt our Boys, we just love them, help them and protect Them. By showing the world that we are BoyLover and that we have rights, WE WILL WIN!

Here's one of his posts to show how evil he was:

His little hand could barely fit around my weiner.

Posted by Gort on July 9, 2004

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The hotdog vendor outside the building had his little grandson with him today. A spry, dark-haired morsel I spotted with my boyonic eyes the second I stepped out of the door. He was wiping the dew off his upper lip with the bottom of his wife beater shirt so naturally I gravitated towards him like an asteroid orbiting Jupiter. I just couldn't stand there salivating all day over a ten year old so I ordered up three dogs with dark mustard and kraut (yellow mustard is for kids and ketchup on a dog is down right un-American).

"Three dogs vor you" the vendor said as he started in on his task. His accent sounded Russian but I'm probably way off. The only two accents I recognize anymore are middle-eastern and wigger.

"Vould you like zumzing to drink?" the boy said to me, using those big brown eyes to push the offer. A chip off the old block with that cute accent.

"No thanks, buddy" I replied. That kid could have sold me a wad of gum off the bottom of his shoe, but I know hotdog vendors. They can turn a one dollar hotdog into an eight dollar sale before you can say Vladimir Lenin. Losing the sale, Gramps says something to the boy like "vanya das nishke" and quick as a wink, he was on my side of the hotdog cart, thigh to thigh with me, getting a little brown bag ready for my dogs.

"Don't skveese his veener too hard" Gramps said as the little man wrapped his small, curious fingers around my dogs and began packaging them. I could feel the blood flow out of my head and I thought I was going to faint. He kept looking up at me for approval as he delicately placed my all-beef weiners one by one into the little bag then handing it to me with a smile only the creator himself could have carved.

"He vants to be hotdog man zomeday" Gramps said as he tapped his grandson on the head. "He needz to pay tenshun". Gramps then stuffed a wad of napkins into my bag and the kid just shrugged his shoulders.

"That's the way to go, kid" I said to the boy as I paid for my lunch. "Be your own boss".

I got a happy wave and another beaming smile as I walked away with a lunch I didn't want. But I'll tell you, I savored each and every bite of those dogs this afternoon.

Now if you'll excuse me, I've had buns and weiners of another kind on my mind for the past five hours and I need to take care of a little business.

Our Investigation

All information on this pedophile was obtained through his posts on BoyChat (See the Additional Information Section below) and from related media coverage of his death.

No further follow-up on this case will be conducted.

Online Accounts

Known Screen Names

• Gort

Known E-mail Addresses

• [email protected]
• [email protected]

Affiliations

Pedophile Websites

• BoyChat

Last Known Address

• Deceased.

Additional Quotes

Why I live alone

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..it's hard to explain, but for those bl's that know me irl, I feel a certain obligation to try and explain why I am the way I am. I am the second youngest of six kids and the runt of the litter. I used to create my own little worlds out of paper and would live for hours in them. My brothers and sisters were assholes. That is the only word I can think of to describe them growing up. They were assholes of the worst kind. They never hesitated to invade my little world and when I was'nt around, would destroy my little paper things I had made. It was impossible to get any peace and quiet, something I craved because school was another nightmare I was dealing with all by myself. There was no middle ground for me to find peace. I dreaded going home as much as I dreaded going to school.

My brothers and sisters knew I had an emotional hair trigger and knew I was an easy target, especially when I got home from school. They would tease me to the point I would become violent and usually break something in the house, thus setting me up for the kill when mom and dad got home from work. I begged him to listen to my side of the story.

Dad would beat the shit out of me trying to get me to shut up because my emotional problems were keeping his fat ass from sitting in front of the tv. It got to the point he would yell at me for no reason at all. One night we were watching tv and he yelled at me for eating the snacks too fast. Yelled at me for eating the snacks too fast! That would usually erupt into an argument between us and his solution to the problem would be to beat the shit out of me. By the time I was in the seventh grade I knew I was having a mental breakdown. I would stay awake all night because that was the only time I could find any peace. I developed nervous ticks ( I still have them today but have learned to cleverly hide them ) and my grades at school were non-existant. Beating me and verbally abusing me was my dad's solution to that problem. Leaving the house was the only way to find any peace and quiet. I found a utility shack at a near by school that became my place of solitude. I remember sitting in there one night smoking cigarettes because it was winter and the weather was really bad and it was cold but it was better than home.

I gave my dad one more chance and literally got on my knees in front of him and begged him to understand what it was I was going through. With tears pouring out of my eyes he compared me to a horses ass. Swear to god he told me a horses ass was better than me because it produced manure for fertilizer. What the fuck did I do to deserve this? What in gods name did I ever do to be treated this way? All I ever wanted was to be left alone.

That night I swallowed every pill I could find in the house. I managed to make myself very sick and failed in my attempt to finally find peace. My mom asked me ( no one else ) what I did with the pills. I told her I tried to kill myself and she did'nt believe me. She thought I hid them to make her mad. I was cold and without feelings now. I told her she would believe me when she found my dead carcass. There was a rage inside of me that could'nt be controlled any longer. I had enough of peoples shit and was going to do something about it. One night one of my older brothers teased me and I went nuts. I got him in a choke hold and he was blue by the time he freed himself. He locked himself in his room and I took a broom handle and started digging a hole in his door to get him. I was creaming at the top of my lungs that I was going to kill him and I meant it. My dad had to sit on top of me and pin me down until I calmed down.

They got a shrink. A family counselor. My family would rattle off all the crap they did'nt like about me and all I would tell that wormy fucker was I hated them all and could care less if they died. They could kiss my ass. I tried for years to explain my pain and only now when their miserable lives were in danger because of me, now they wanted answers. My oldest brother joined the navy and finally I got my own room. From the ninth until the twelfth grade I hid in that room. I had my own little world back and I was happy to be in it all by myself. I no longer raged and literally ignored my family. After High school I joined the Navy myself and was finally out of that nut house and away from all those upper class shitheads I went to school with.

When I got out of the Navy I moved into my own place. I lived with a girl once but told her to pack her bags after three weeks. It drove me crazy to have someone around invading my space. I've lived alone since then. I find peace and tranquility being alone. I still suffer long bouts of depression and hide in my little world for weeks on end. Being around people when I'm depressed does'nt help at all. I am very much a hypocrite when I tell people on BC to seek the company of friends when they are depressed. Most people who know me irl from BC don't know me at all. They think I'm being rude or forgetful when I don't answer the phone or promptly answer a e-mail. Most of my time now is spent with my dad who is getting up there in years ( I forgave him years ago ) and needs to be driven around and kept an eye on, especially when he is cooking. What little time I have left I spend hiding in my little apartment, hiding from the ghosts from the past that still haunt me today. I've dealt with every problem I've ever had all by myself and find it very hard to share those problems, even with my BoyChat family.

I brought this up because of something that happened this weekend. I was spending Friday and Saturday with Sparks and another bl. I hitched a ride with the other bl and the plan was to go back with him Saturday evening. This past week I have been severly depressed, so much so dangerous thoughts were being kicked around in my head. I thought a couple of nights with some bl's would be just the medicine I needed to snap me out of it. We had a great time but my mind kept wandering back to my problems and I was struggling to keep a positive frame of mind. Saturday evening came and Sparks did'nt want me to go. He offered to by me a bus ticket back home if I would stay. I made up some lame excuse why that would'nt work. He offered to come back with us and get himself a bus ticket back but I told him I needed chill time. Sparks is a dear and caring person and only wanted to be with me on the long holiday weekend. I kept making excuse after excuse why it was'nt feasable for any of his plans to work. I was so grateful when he accepted the fact I needed chill time because the rage that plagued me as a boy was surfacing again. He was being so sweet and kind but within my mind angry words were forming and had he kept at me another couple of minutes that boy within me would have exploded and screamed "Can't you see I just want to be left the fuck alone?" I felt so bad for wanting to be away from Sparks, but I am the product of the environment I was raised in and I doubt very much if those scars will ever go away. I've gotten to the point in my life were I can leave my home and be with other bl's. But I can't change what I am. I can only explain my behavior.

When I came to BoyChat I had found the perfect forum. I can share my problems and still be safe in my little world. What I did'nt expect was other bl's finding their way into my heart and into my life. I love having the company of so many generous people but how can I explain to them how seriously fucked up I am mentally? I've been able to make excuses for my behavior but after this weekend it's time for me to try and tell you guys were I am coming from. In my heart I feel I have only told you guys some of the events that occurred in my life making me what I am. Words can't convey just how whacked I really am.

When I'm with you guys, you see the Gort I want you to see so you don't try getting into my mind. The Gort you see is fun and generally happy. The Gort I don't want you to see is the sad and lonely man who can go into a rage whenever his world is compromised. I have tried my best to hide this side of me from you guys, but the closer I get to you, the more I feel the need to tell you the truth about me. It was never my intention for my relationships with you guys to go any further than BoyChat. I found a group of people who accept me as one of their own and I had to venture out and meet you. Now I need you guys to understand what I really am and that I am working on getting better a little at a time.

I love you guys and that comes from my heart...

Gort

Additional Information

The Gort/Chris Nolan Connection

Here are a couple of posts that ensued after Chris Nolan's death:

i just learned, that tpka Gort died, a short time ago. i learned from a news report that he killed himself. i'm a lump of grief right now so i can't really write well, some of the things i want to say about him.

The terrible news of Gort's suicide was a blow to those of us who knew him, even though most of us had not heard from him in quite some time. And I agree that his blood is partly on society's hands, even though he did the final actions. But let us not think that it was because he was a boylover that he died. That's far too easy, and wrong besides.

As others have come forward and said, and as his own stories tell us, Gort was very much an unloved boy. Not just a boy who was neglected, but one who was taunted and made to feel worthless by his very own family. Gort needed an adult friend. Not necessarily a boylover, but anyone who would pay attention to him, and wipe away his tears, and reassure him that the hateful things he heard were lies and that he really was worth loving. And as he grew up, he had to fight depression and a feeling of worthlessness constantly. He just could not believe, as his friends could, how valuable he really was.

So, as we continue to mourn the loss of our friend, let's not just sit and whine about persecution by cement-headed straight clowns. Let's use this tragic event as a further reminder of why we must take responsibility upon ourselves to intervene when we see kids being mistreated and neglected, whether they be friends or complete strangers. And when we're tired, or not wanting to get involved, let's remember how much impact a little extra effort might have meant to Gort.

Contact Us

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