Wednesday, January 15, 2014

Vampire SPIRIT evicts SOUL and CLAIMS NEW BODY via a GRAND ARMONICA ... 1/15/13

They flew him in from Philadelphia. The vampire-oligarch's 'familiars' I mean. The plane landed at a rickety airport just west of the Urals and a small caravan of Land Rovers brought him in. Most of the Russian handlers spoke a bit of French. Doctor Franklin's, a little bit antiquated to begin with was rusty, but he managed to make himself known and trade a few bon mots. The 'ladies'... the 'ladies'... always the ladies. And a couple of them Natashas thought him the dearest old man they'd ever met. Oh, and he liked the vodka too. Jefferson liked it too. Had it brought into Old Philadelphia courtesy of Prince Potemkin, a court favorite of Catherine the Great. But Jefferson's dead. Been that way since eighteen twenty six and ain't showin' no signs of improvement. Franklin, on the other hand, still lives, due to carefully meted out doses of perfectly calibrated harmonics provided by his eighteenth century masterpiece... the Grand Armonica. A small scale model of that device is on exhibit in his old house in Philadelphia. Tourists think it's the real thing... Little do they know. But certain cognoscenti, ever since the first days of The Junto (his scientific, fraternal, society) have been privy to something else. They've seen and even worked on the real thing down in his vast complex under the Navy Yard. Some long time readers know this. But I'll provide a quick run down for those who don't.

A horizontal axis, forty feet long and eighteen inches wide. A rod wrought from a copper alloy similar to a brass/bronze mixture but fundamentally different. It rests on two massive triangular iron supports, each twenty feet high and eight feet wide. Arranged on this rod are thirty two huge, crystal discs, ranging in diameter from two feet to approximately twenty four feet. Each disc is fourteen point two inches thick. The smaller ones resemble massive 'wedding rings' more than discs. Powerful, somewhat steam-punk looking electro-magnets placed about the chamber interact with the mechanism via impressive, though essentially harmless, lightning bolt-like arcs. A long, narrow zinc tub... a bath filled with some sort of secret oil-water suspension runs beneath the discs, rising to a height just beneath the bronze-like axel so that each of them (the discs) pass completely through the mixture as they rotate. Controls are accessed via an organ-like console located by what would be the 'south pole' of the massive contraption. Each disc can be rotated independently, or in concert and at varying speeds. The chords, vibrations and harmonics produced are quite unique and capable of effecting matter in many strange and unusual ways.

In this manner will the unfortunate soul of the young Russian haberdasher's assistant, known as Ivan Stephanovich vacate his still living body so that the temporarily homeless shade of the oligarch-vampire, named Grigori Usipov can take possession.  Granted, conditions and facilities at the 'abandoned' Russian complex did not match what was under the Navy Yard in Philadelphia, but the outcome should still be quite successful. A soul manifests itself in our world as energy. And the Grand Armonica can certainly handle that. 

The few pin-head specimens still in residence, wandering about the endless, dark passageways (descendants of the original four) were giddy. They knew the device was being readied. Vibrations resonated through the very structure. And the small number of living ape-human mixes shuffling through the shadows vocalized incessantly, while the Greek chorus of ghosts simply floated about and watched.

Doctor Franklin liked the ghosts. He found them very urbane. And the spirit of Grigori Usipov, strictly speaking. was no ghost, for he had never ever really died. 

Soon all would be ready. The 'music' would commence. Til then they left the poor haberdasher's assistant alone. He sat in his small room on his not too soiled mattress, in darkness broken only by feeble candlelight and thin, almost tinny music from an old, barely functioning cassette player.... A CHORUS LINE I think it was.... I think they gave him some of the irradiated, canned food too

Achhh, he hummed pathetically....


please leave us a comment. come on. I'm whispering. thank you.

No comments: