Sunday, January 19, 2014

THE FRINGES OF THE VAMPIRE WORLD ARE STILL OUT THERE ... 1/20/13

They are still out there. We speak of Tomas and his dear ones in their snug, red brick town house in Philadelphia and even Doctor Franklin and his mad, Russian holiday. But other species of night-folk are still out there too. Some never speak. Nor do they ever walk the streets of men, preferring the cold, abysmal plain. 'Lucid Wanderers' we call them. They see (after a fashion). They feel and they abide. 

Names are lost. Identities forgotten. They exist as legends... seamen's stories... travelers' tales. The princes of the sea know who they are and greet them as they pass. And lest you imagine 'princes of the sea' to be merfolk, let me tell you, they are not. Think 'leviathan' and you will know them. 

Aquanauts in special, spherical craft able to withstand great pressure know who they are. Photographs exist.... even videos. Picture blackness through a small, thick, solid quartz window. Then a light goes on. A harsh, yellow beam cuts the darkness. Tiny scraps of once living organisms dance through the current... Bleached, white, colorless fleshy things, nudibranch, I think they are in your language, undulate through the brightness and disappear. A white crab, carrying the torn off finger of a drowned man, gleefully scuttles away. Welcome to the deepest dungeon of King Triton's realm. I would have said Poseidon, or possibly Neptune, his true royal names, but so few know the classics these days. Disney does that. Everything is simplified, homogenized and bowdlerized. The noble Atuhualpa, Emperor of Tihuantisuyu (All Directions), who ruled from Cuzco (Navel of the Universe), Earth's largest city in its day, who built what became known as 'el camino real' (the royal road), creator of hummingbirds, receiver of the sweat of the sun (gold), great shepherd of the celestial llamas. confidant of deities is whittled down to a petulant youth in a baggy tunic without a name. No, I am wrong. 'Cuzco' they remembered. He's named for the city. 

Oh, how I go on. Am I a vampire? You, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid... what do you think?  Who else speaks so contemporaneously of these things? Yes, I am a vampire. I am a New World vampire who saw the fall of the Olmec, the Toltec, the Zapotec, the Aztec, the Mixtec and all them other 'Tecs.'  Mayans too, but they always had to be different. I saw the rustic, northern, polity of Cahokia, a vast, 'Indian' city near what you call Saint Louis. Did you even know it was there? 

And now I walk among the remnants of creation, a frigid place of endless night. I like it. It suits me. When hungry I rise to the surface (always by moonlight) and snatch souls from ships. The floating ziggurat, the island-like pleasure barges that ply the sea are nothing to me. You've heard tales of people disappearing... young husbands gone missing....baccarat dealers up in smoke?... Well, that smoke is me. Like a spider I climb. They never hear. They rarely know. I care not for reactions. Mortal fear does not entertain me. My ego is secure. 

So gaze out through the thick, quartz window. Squint into the darkness. There I am... off in the distance... a tiny figure walking up a hill.... all color gone, washed out by the salty sea.

All parts of Earth are known to us. Night-folk are everywhere.... We watch you as you sleep. Some, like your Tomas and his allies, interact with humanity while others, such as I, do not.

How I love the pressure... It caresses me.

Oh, look... a krakkon (huge, giant squid). Perhaps she'll let me ride?

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