Wednesday, August 17, 2011


Zebulon speaks. I have been oozing in and out of our neighboring parallel universes. It's easy to do that here in Jerusalem, for this divine cooprdinate serves as a portal, a hernia, if you will, allowing souls and materials from one plane to seep into the next. Do they have vampires in those places? Of course they do, but I like the centaurs best. Can you imagine what their public toilets are like? Ass wiping poses a bit of a problem, but that's what the little satyr restroom attendants are for.

I also hear from those with various forms of mandibles and digestive tracts that the pizza is shitty wherever you go. And Cats is still playing in a realm two cosmic vibrations away, but with real talking and singing felines. Bette Midler is president of the United States in one reality and cans of  Chicken of the Sea tuna fish are used as money in another...counterfeits (did I spell it correctly?) contain dead human flesh in place of the more usual albacore.

So if you're of a mind to go back and compare episodes, you might notice that certain pearls along the strand don't exactly fit in with all the rest and some of the pieces of our puzzle don't 'jig' with the others. Does that reveal a fundamental flaw? Certainly not. It merely indicates an unavoidable level of extra-parallel contamination. You know how individual pieces of slop in the refrigerator suck up stinks from all the other slops? Well, cosmic reality is a lot like that too. Ask Renate. She knows. So does famed Australian kiddie singing sensation, The Wiggles. And I think Gilbert Gottfreid is comprized of a bit of trans-parallel genetic material too. God isn't a good copy editor. What can I tell you. But he does write a good story.....

A group of Holocaust survivors met with a steeering committee made up of vampires and other extra-ordinary types. They applaud the quest for Mideast peace, but fear that all this Israel-Ishmael brotherhood might water down the distinct character of their religious homeland. After all, Ishmael already has dozens of arrows in his quiver, while Israel has only one. Many states fly the Ishmaeli banner, but the tallis flag stands all alone. And certain supporters of the yet-to-be Ishmaeli state fail to see the sense in a settlement recognizing Hebrew aspirations. They never had to do that before. No one did. It's tradition. It's history. It's the way things are.......Looks like we're gonna have to contaminate plenty more felafel balls to circumvent this one.

And speaking of felafel balls...Sarah's getting mighty chummy with her new, centuries old, left over Crusader, vampire Frenchman,  Jean-Michel. Midnight swims in the storied pool of The King David Hotel. Pre-dawn blood nibbles on the Mount of Olives. Look, none other than Queen Beringeria herself had a thing for him, so what's a little auburn haired night-sweetie from Philadelphia supposed to do?

Ah, but the night air is peppered with our ersatz 'jinns.' Who are they? I don't really know. What are they? Well, they're a lot of things. Jonathon can feel them. He senses them in tiny currents and eddies moving through the mikvah (baptismal pool) where he takes his monthly post feeding purification bath. And he shivers as he steps up onto the worn stone paving surrounding the clear, fresh water, allowing himself to be enveloped by the crisp, clean sheets........

No comments: