Wednesday, July 27, 2016

WE'VE SEEN EACH OTHER BEFORE - said the alien to the vampire 7/27/16

I liked the chanting - said the vampire known as 'Papa.' The chords passed through my body. I felt the low, rumbling vibrations in my sternum. And then there was the incense, rich and aromatic. You know about our vampiric sense of smell... at least some of you do. The sanctity of all creation is paramount to true Buddists... Hindus too... Jains... Sikhs... all the dharma driven faiths... Sikhism is a hybrid, Abrahamic and Dharmic ... They left polished, brass bowls of carefully prepared food where the rats would find them. In that way they steered then from our rooms toward an outer courtyard... a place of offerings.

We gathered for communal meals. The monks and functionaries spoke in a patois of Turkish, Persian and Himalayan languages. I knew Vahmperagha, an ancient Sanskrit dialect used by my people since pre Vedic times. Thus I could make myself understood to some of the monks and most of the Persians... Those familiar with my special existence said nothing. Others asked questions, particularly about my dining habits.... Does not a jinn eat?... Apparently they can eat... I told them I was fasting, a pilgrim on the way to pray at the tomb of a Uyghur holy man. They nodded. I told them I took specially made 'cakes' of nourishment during the night. They nodded some more... Then they ate a rather savory, stew-like porridge of grains, chick peas, vegetables, bean curd and oils. Aesthetics they were not, at least not excessively so.

But a man in the shadows ( the many rooms and chambers lit only by small lamps of plant based ghee) noticed something about me and smiled.... I nodded and smiled back. He whispered a few words in Vahmperagha. The others could not hear, but I could.

Later, when we broke up into small groups over tea, I moved toward the shadows and sat down on a red, silk cushion near the Vahmperagha speaker... He said - We've seen each other before, vampire. A mammoth hunt I think it was.... Then I noticed his eyes, the strange, vulpine eyes.... The man from another sun - I said.... He bowed his head.

It seems he was well known in those parts. After the others retired to their sleeping quarters we met in a small, windowless, interior room. Old lamaseries are like labyrinths. The man from another sun led the way. I followed his scent.

The room was dark... a place to store old tomes and lacquered casks of God knows what. I smelled the oil from many hands. I heard their lives and felt their souls.

The man from another sun spoke without words. I did the same....

And in that way it began...

<till next time>

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Tuesday, July 26, 2016

A NEW VAMPIRE REALITY --- The Age Of Independent Actors.. 7/26/16

More from the all powerful ancient life-eater known as 'Papa.'

Before I was imprisoned beneath Rome (sometime in the tenth or eleventh century) I traveled the Silk Road with a caravan out of Isfahan. My companions, being Persians, fancied themselves poets and bards. We traded tales 'round the fires of caravanserais all across the heartland of the world. Did they know of my strange affliction?... After a fashion... Some knew. Others fancied me a jinn. I cured disease and told the future. They wrapped me up in an old elephant hide during the day and hoisted me over the hump of a quarrelsome dromedary ... not a particularly comfortable way to travel, but I've suffered worse. At  least at night, when they unwrapped me, I saw the stars. If you've never seen them in the pure, dark, clarity of the endless steppes, you know not the greatness of The Universe and the glories of Creation. Odd how less advanced societies, though respectful of the firmament, took it in stride, while modern folk, when faced with that site cry and look away... How horribly vast it is. ... How diamond-bright... the cache of ten thousand Sinbads strewn across Heaven's Dome like so many seeds. In a sense, that's what they are, for each is a sun and often the source of life to biological entities clinging to their dancing children.

Apparently there are many such dancers.

At times we veered to the south, arcing down and under the 'Roof of The World,' as the Himalayas were called, to trade with the rich lamaseries of Tibet. I saw all manner of jade... all manner of ivory, some pieces carved from the bones of dead monks and wonders to baffle the most learned men of Christendom. There was a golden top that never ceased spinning and a long lived songbird, warbling away in a tongue known to the priest-kings of Dilmun... I saw Xanthura, last of the Scythian unicorns...

But the greatest wonder was a silent gentlemen with vulpine eyes... fox's eyes with vertical pupils... A telepath you might call him... To me, he was my friend... my brother from another star. We spoke mind to mind. Few mortals can do that. I relished the experience...

Come back tomorrow. I'll tell you more...

<till next time>

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Friday, July 22, 2016

CRESSIDA AND HER VAMPIRE STUDIES... 7/22/16

Papa speaking.... Haven't felt so mortal since we stuffed those bastards in a 'brazen bull' about two and a half millennia ago. It's Cressida. Such an apt pupil. Wants to learn everything. Like Eliza DoLittle if she was a vampire instead of Julie Andrews (I saw the show). So many questions... Is it a sin to kill a virgin? (not if its an evil virgin)... How about pregnant women? (don't do it. if the fetus in her womb is late term, it gnaws its way through the belly, scrambles out into the world becoming that rarest of vampire creatures, the 'imp,' thin, big headed, wide eyed amoral things who manically ravage the flesh of their victims with sharp, claw-like fingernails and take in all the blood with a vacuum-like precision).... She writes it all down in a seventy nine cent spiral notebook. Bought a package of Bic pens and everything... I tell her she'll remember. I tell her she doesn't have to do that... She studies the stump where her right foot used to be... When will in grow back? - she says... In a few nights - I tell her.... Vampires regenerate lost appendages, but not the head. Never the head. Although it will reattach if held in place for a few hours. Reattaching doesn't take as long as regeneration, since little new tissue is required.... Excuse me, but she lost the foot in a sublimation accident. Tried to pass through a low stone wall in a pocket-park. Materialized to fast. Foot got caught. Foot popped off. Ignited into that 'cold' blue flame and disappeared. Some rodent thing ran out of the bushed and licked up all the grease.... I grabbed her and sublimated her back home with me. Shared my aura. We can do that... There's already a little, white, stiff, rubbery stalk growing out of it. The stump, I mean. I say - Stop playing with it.... She sucks her teeth... Billy can't bear to look at it. She laughs, hobbles over on her crutches and tries to touch him with it. He runs away.

I got her a cat, an Abyssinian thing, like a strange Siamese. She named him Menelik, after the son of King Solomon and The Queen of Sheba, since Sheba ruled Yemen and Abyssinia... Abyssinia was called Sheba... Mole people are quite well read. They have lots of old books down those tunnels. Sometimes they lay about for days reading by Sterno light, like harem girls in old Istanbul... even have a few ancient, crank-up Victrolas ...

Cressida's sister, Sylvia, misses her, but I don't want a meeting just yet. Let her settle into this new thing first. Besides, they're not blood sisters, if that makes a difference. Their 'father.' the mole king, took them in as foundlings. So many babies disappear into the tunnels. The parents never know.

I want her for Sarah. I think they'd be good friends. And do you doubt, with my abilities, I'll get them back? Doctor Franklin won't keep them forever... but I'm not ready yet.

A meal will make her heal faster. I'll bring her one. A male, I think, a young male. She'll ask if he's evil. I'll say 'yes.' He'll beg and cry. I'll stick a rag in his mouth... and then he'll be gone.

Have you ever stopped to think how many lives I've taken? Figure one a fortnight... maybe an odd extra here and there. I'm guessing it's somewhere around seven hundred thousand. Back in Neolithic and ancient times, my tribe would steal meals for me.... Sixteen hundred generations, that's all it is. If you picture one person for each generation you could fit them all in quite a small space, provided they all stand shoulder to shoulder.... NEXT!... ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.

Now let me go get her 'take out.'

<more next time>

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Wednesday, July 20, 2016

A VAMPIRE SAYS - I've been good and I've been bad, Good is Better, but Bad is More Fun.. 7/20/16

Gather 'bout your little screens, mortals, and read my words. I so rarely acknowledge your presence. Maybe after twenty eight thousand years, I've just forgotten, or grown numb to the sensations and problems you face. I am the one they call 'Papa.' Over the eons I've had many names. What difference could they possibly make to you. That's not a question. It's a fact.

But I observe the maelstrom of human life and I draw conclusions. Please know that my mortal nativity occurred far in advance of anything resembling the modern interpretations of Divinity you have today. We were, what you might call, pantheists. 'God' was everywhere and He peeked out at the world through every set of 'eyes,' both functional and figurative. A stone might see... a shaman... a wolf... a storm... a baby.... Spirits, indeed, THEE Spirit was everywhere, thus gratuitous slaughter was a no-no. Did we kill? Of course, but not like you do. It happened... crimes of passion.... tragic conflicts between tribes and clans. Yet even considering the tiny spark of humanity back then, those things were rare. Maybe we willed it so? Maybe God willed it so? My experience, though prodigious, doesn't cover everything.

Yet I want to comment on your current realization of the Divine. To me, it seems obvious. I'll bet it does to some of you too, though you just don't say it. I speak of Scripture.... the holy books of religion, as they exist in the 'west.' Each has passages of love and reconciliation. Each has instances of hate, brutality and division. I sure 'God' does that for a reason... free will and all.. You are given choices. Everything is everywhere. The path taken is yours.. You can see the dark, or you can see the light..... Get it?.... What choices do you make?

And 'scripture' goes far beyond the sanctioned tomes. There are commentaries... compendiums of religious 'law'... accounts of the acts, both bloody and otherwise' of the faithful... a large, ongoing nebulous repository or 'truth.' Beauty is as beauty does... You know what I mean... 'By their deeds, ye shall know them.

Simple?.... It is

That's why Jonathon and most other 'vampires' take vows.

Me? Over the years, I've been good and I've been bad. Good is better, though bad is more fun. The victims went up in a whoosh of 'cold' blue flames and disappeared. Those on the scene rarely suspected us. You've heard talk of this before. How do you think spontaneous human combustion legends started?

Oh, the ruling classes knew. They were our allies. We killed for them.... at least some did.... And some of us were destroyed in return.

I want to share some of my experiences.... victims taken in The Blue Grotto.... compliant 'believers' culled in shadowy cathedrals.... travelers snatched on dark roads....

I like variety...

I like to shake things up.

<more next time>

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Thursday, July 14, 2016

NAKED VAMPIRINA CRESSIDA TALK TO US.. 7/15/16

I grab the magic talking book from that Billy. We have a few similar devices down in the tunnels. I know a bitsy 'bout these things. He don't want to let it go. I say - Do you want me to be a powerful friend or a powerful enemy? No, not your enemy, your executioner.... He give me a look. I smile and let him see new fangs..... I go - Well?... He slides it over.... I am no thief. That Billy will get it back. But I want you to hear about me FROM me. For as far as I know, there had never been another like me since the time before the moon. I do not mean the real time before the moon. It is just an expression. But you know that.

I am Cressida, formerly known as Aura. They both mean same thing. And I am first never-die vampirina in dis place we call 'the world'.... What does this mean?... It means I have more smart stuffed into my skull than any mortal, or originally born mortal creature on Earth. Other worlds, I do not know. Their magic is their magic and what they do with it is their affair.

Papa, my creator, has no idea. That twenty eight thousand year old vain bastid.... Oh, he look just like young Richard Gere... SCREW Richard Gere. If he was young Richard Gere I would. But he is not, so ha ha ha ha ha!

If I go on WHO WANT TO KILL ALL DE MILLIONAIRE AND TAKE ALL THEY MONEY, I win the whole thing, especially if they are asking me de history question. I thumb my nose at history question because I live every bit of it.  I see Queen Marie Antoinette naked. You know that? A make pretend French girl. I see her. I have it de sex with Hercules... the REAL Hercules, not Lou Ferrigno. And I once shoplift sweater with de young Elizabeth Taylor. I say - Elizabeth,why you not kill that Eddie Fisher bastid and say some other dumb bastid do it?... She say she think about it, but obviously she do not. Squeaky voice bitch.

Now I run de street and go SEX SEX SEX!... If I like, they live... If I not like... I go - Yum! Yum! Eat 'em up!.. Please do not think I shout those words all up and down city.  Cressida does not do that. She kill lowlife rotten bastid with style and panache.

I feel SO GOOD to be free from de many tunnel. Mole-folk papa not know I here. Mole-folk sister (Sylvia) not know I here. Want to send them letter, but post office bitch say they not deliver to sinister underground place, so I kill her. Now she know for real...

Have you ever see me? You know if you do. Cressida very much beautiful thing. I got smooth, creamy, olive skin... long curly, rich brown hair... dark green eye... nice, heart shape face and pretty tittie... both of dem.... They both pretty.

I wear mink stole, PHILADELPHIA ZOO baseball cap and Converse ALL-STAR sneaker... de black ones... de real ones. All over every place else I am naked. Vampirina can do that. If I see cop... if I see crazy old lady... if I see f*ck face anybody, I make de vampire eyes and they not see me. Sometime I tickle them and they do not see me. Sometime I pull pants, inside pants, outside pants, down to ankle and they not see me.... Never-die vampirina have fun. Many people like see me. They go - WOO! WOO! WOO! .... Some I make de sex with. Some I kill.... Look, what can I do? You know how it is.

Why I am talking this way? I not know. Papa say it because new vampire nature upset never-die nature and all de different life I got inside a me all mixed up. Who cares? So what? Drop dead.

Now, go do what you do. I watch JAMES CORDEN den I run naked in streets...

<more next time>

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Wednesday, July 13, 2016

The Never-Die, Aura, Becomes The Vampire Known As Cressida.. 7/14/16

I was naked in the rain and my skin was peeling off. Papa lay on top of me. I cried. Lightning flashed silently in the distance. He whispered - Soon it will be over.... Then he hugged me tight.... We were all alone, lying on the grass of Belmont Plateau. The lights of Center City twinkled through the nighttime haze to the south. I gasped for breath. Such an odd feeling. Oxygen meant nothing to me. I didn't need it. Yet my lungs were used to the sensation. I felt Papa's breath against my cheek. I grew calm. I drew in air and let it out.  We breathed as one. ... My skin was gone. He tore out handfuls of grass and scoured the last bits from my body, revealing the smooth, new, clean, white vampire membrane beneath

Then I felt the hunger.... New food... New nourishment... New everything... It was more than hunger. It was a drug. I craved it. I trembled. I moaned. He picked me up and held me... Look, a lot of you have been with them since the beginning. You've read the accounts. You know what happens.... But I never read them. I never knew. I was Aura, First Daughter to The Mole King. I lived under the city. I was barely aware of this 'blog,' this public sharing. My people are quiet and reticent. They live in dark tunnels, after all. I ate mushrooms and domesticated pigeons and rats for God's sake. And now I swim in magic. I breathe it instead of air.

When he held me, we flickered. His energy was my energy. I knew Jonathon had abilities. I knew he had his talents... but this was different. I haven't been a vampire long, or 'vampirina,' as they say it.... Excuse me. I get confused.... We sublimated into a place, a shadowy stone chamber. I don't know where it was.... A thin, young man cried on the floor. He didn't get up. He didn't do anything. I have no idea how long he was there. Papa wouldn't tell me. He said one word - Eat... The young man whimpered. I fell on him and tore him apart. I laughed like a maniac and cracked his ribs. I was slick with blood and licked it from my forearms. I wanted more. It was like the blood baths of Byzantium, or the skull crushings of  the Eastern Ghats ... specially trained elephants, you know... taught to hold their massive foot just above the head of the prone figure and apply pressure slowly.... How they screamed.

Papa grabbed me. A few heartbeats later we were here. He took me upstairs and bathed me. Then we went down to the secured sleeping quarters in the basement. The ghost of the little polio victim watched. Billy didn't say a word. He stayed in his own room far upstairs, till daylight came.

What would Jonathon think of me when he came back? What would Sarah say?

I was Papa's slave. He may not have thought of it in those terms, but that's what I was.

I was supposed to be a companion for Sarah, but, in truth, I was a concubine for him.

I retreated back into my endless memories and wept.

<more next time>

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Tuesday, July 12, 2016

CRESSIDA WAS ONE OF THE AURAS ... 7/12/16

Now they call me 'Cressida,' but you may know me as Aura. Both names mean the same thing. Cressida is Greek. Aura is Latin. Each means 'gold.' I am the eldest daughter of the mole-folk leader. Not magic in any meaningful way, just different. We live in the unused subway tunnels beneath the city. I 'played' with Jonathon. He knows us. Sylvia and I were favorites of his. Our subterranean candlelit sponge baths are legendary. God bless those old cans of Sterno.

I said that I am not tinged by magic in any meaningful way... but magic isn't everything. I endure through other means. Does my body live forever? No, but my soul does and I remember every instant of the journey. No sooner do I shed one mortal coil then I inhabit another. Heaven can wait. I've never been there. My memory goes back to early hominid times. No names then. Little in the way of language, though we had our dramas... who coupled with whom... who gives the best 'grooms and tickles.' Simple times..

Then I was Neanderthal. Then I was Cro Magnon. Then I was Eefah of the Podoh People. Mud pack hairdos and henna squiggly-wigglies all over the place. Please think not that these transformations happened quickly. They did not. When I say 'Neanderthal' I speak not of one generation, but of eons. I saw the ice come and I saw the ice go. Sometimes I was female. Sometimes I was male. I've been a eunuch and a king. Does that sound like Sinatra? Forgive me. I did not mean it. It all seems like a whirlwind. I've enjoyed few of my childhoods. You know how children are. And childbirth can be lethal. Everything was lethal. Once I was a Grand Inquisitor. Once I built a railroad. Made it run. Once I babbled my life away in a dungeon for thirty six years. Believe me, Man of La Mancha it was not. Burnt for a witch eighty one times. Only deserved it twice. Was Queen of Bythia once. Was King of the Gypsies twice too. Never a vampire, but killed by them a few times.

You know what stays with me? ... A rogue wave off the coast of Madagascar. I was a deck slave. The sky was black... a charcoal dome of swirling clouds... I was terrified... All the passengers and most of the crew were down below. The 'lodestone' I was... a seamen's superstition, meant to draw the charge from the storm.... a sacrifice to Jove, there to take the lightning...

But before I got the chance, Neptune threw something else my way... a small undulation, off in the distance, barely visible in the maelstrom rolled toward the ship and the few sailors left on deck... each transfixed by the rising horror before us... a crushing wall of water more than one hundred and thirty cubits high. Two heartbeats later, the remaining crewmen ran below, leaving me all alone to face our hellish end. I said my prayers, as the dhow rolled under (we took the wave broadside) untold tons of dark, cold pressure... At least it was over fast... but I did feel my skull pop.

And now I am a bride... a vampire bride... brought over to this new form of enchantment.... a 'never die' in body, as well as soul... a female for what might be a very long time... a vampirina meant to be 'sister' to Sarah.....

Does she know about Jonathon and I?...

Of course she does....

But I'm privy to a lot about that one too...

Maybe I was ready for a change...

Who knows?

<more next time>

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