Sunday, March 2, 2014

OVER THERE - DANDY YANKEE (COLORIZED) ---- now imagine it in a patriotic movie set on Mars?..











Not our regular post. That'll come later after the OSCARS. But who wants to see this picture?~~~> a terraformed Mars, much like the AMERICAN Southwest...... the population, centered around the capital city of BARSOOM (pronounced bar-sum) and other towns, though many old original families have huge ranches out in 'el polva rosa' (the red dust) and are called 'Troopers' a la cavalry of old American frontier. The unofficial anthem of the Five Territories (Mars Montana, East Equator, West Equator, North Mars, South Mars) is SHE WORE A YELLOW RIBBON (they sing it all the time when they're drunk). One old Trooper family are the Texacos, holders of a huge spread and breeders of prize pegasus (bio-engineered winged horses). Family scion Bobby Joe Texaco poised for a run at THE STONE HOUSE (Martian 'president's' residence). But dastardly invaders from beyond The Ort Cloud swoop in. It's WAR! America (basically most of the Earth, the moon and an outpost on Europa) is slow to respond. Martians go it alone. Anti-war sentiment strong back home. Aliens gain upper hand. But at the last instant Earthside sentiment flips (maybe after an alien raid there too?). And HUGE squadrons of AMERICAN space planes flying in formation, streak over the Martian horizon, filling the sky, as two young boys race up a hill, plant an AMERICAN FLAG and salute just as the armada speeds by overhead and rallies in BARSOOM and WASHINGTON (other places too) break into the 'king' of patriotic anthems ... George M. Cohan's OVER THERE!... (cue the music up above). And as the film fades a rather 3D slide of a HUGE AMERICAN FLAG flying in the breeze, fills the screen and says --- BUY WAR BONDS!....... BOOM--- THE END OF  El Rancho Texaco I..... coming soon... EL RANCHO TEXACO II ..... I think the people filling multiplexes would stomp and cheer. We NEED a movie like this.... and just in case you want to know, the AMERICAN anthem is .... God bless America,

Worlds that I love,

Stand beside her.

And guide her,

Through the night.

With a light from above.

From the sun-worlds.

To the ice-worlds,

And the sea-worlds,

White with foam.

God bless America,

My home sweet home.

God bless America,

My home sweet home!!



THESE ARE THE DAYS OF EL RANCHO TEXACO!



So far just a script getting passed around. What do you think? Please COMMENT. Discuss ideas. Provide input. Talk about  

llinks to your sites and projects too. and as always, to see older posts click on BROWSE ALL OF IT ... or to join us on TWITTER hit @wilkravitz ... much thanks to everyone.

VAMPIRE MAYHEM ...THAT'S ALL ... Last Night 'Billy' was a bit too crazy & pixilated so now we gonna make up for it.. 3/2/14

The homeless drunks were practically dead. Oh, they would have lived if the elferinos and elferinas stopped then. But Peter, the new one, wouldn't let them. And the baby witchling, Boopsie, although in no way vampiric herself, thought the whole thing quite a joke. She kept gurgling - Again! Again! Again! .... What with her natural, instinctive, baby magic way she got about her and Peter's sinister pixilation, crap just seemed to happen. Marianne, Celeste, Roland and Albion (the elferina & elferinos) didn't want to do it. One or two fast little blood drinks is enough for them.  But those other two were pulling the strings. So they sat there on the cold, dusty, stone floor of the never used little mausoleum, passing the old drunks around like box-wine at a beach party. Albion tried to stop, but Peter ripped his ear off. He screamed just like a skinny, little, white girl. How fortunate he is night-folk possess the ability to regenerate lost, or ripped off body parts.  One of the drunks tried to crawl away . Boopsie squealed - No! No! No! No! No!. Peter gestured with his hand and the poor inebriate flew up into the faux wood (really textured cement) rafters and cracked his head real hard. Peter caught him on the way down. Cradled him like a little baby. Elfin-folk are strong, you know. That ain't no big thing to them. Eighty nine percent dead guy blinks one eye and mumbles something.  Peter goes - Uh huh... rocks him a little bit, then leans down and bites his nose off. Grins with the bloody, fleshy thing 'tween his teeth and says ( not to clear, but he says it) 'I got your nose.'... Boopsie claps and goes - Uh oh!.... Think by then the eighty nine percent dead guy was completely gone and the other one starts crying.  Peter was mad because night-folk (real night folk) won't drink from a dead corpse. You see, it's not just the blood that sustains them. It's the taking of a life, or in the case of elferinos and elferinas the diminishing of a life. I can't lay it all out for you here. El Mundo Vampirido is much more nuanced and complicated than that. If you browse through all we got up here, you'll pick up a lot. I don't even know what all is up here, because I just channel the stuff. Sometimes I go back and see a post and think - Wow, did I say that?!... But the truth is I didn't say it. I just typed it. 

Marianne crawls over to the second drunk and finishes him off. Peter sees, but he don't care. He's like in a stupor. Didn't take long . Thin, dry, sour, jaundiced skin don't hold much blood anyway. Killin' folks is foreign to her. She's done it, but not that often. Just sits there watchin' as he ignites into the 'cold' blue flame and disappears. Ashes rise up and stick to the ceiling. Some day a caretaker will come in here, see the burn mark on the stone floor and the ashy soot up above. Probably blame it on homeless folk. Thing is, he gonna be exactly right. 

Boopsie claps as the ashes dance through the air and goes - Pretty!

Then it's quiet. Everybody just sits there. First dead guy what never got drained to death lies in a heap. Peter gets a crazy look, like Malcolm McDowell in A CLOCKWORK ORANGE and a lot a other movies too and says - You had 'cherubs' around here. Didn't you?..... Marianne, who usually speaks for the elfin-folk says - Yes..... He goes - Where are they?... She says - I don't know..... He grins..... She adds - They went off when the old caretaker left. His wife died. She used to be like a grandmother to them. Crocheted little outfits... sweaters... knit caps.... scarves. Cold can't hurt them, but she wanted them to be comfortable. She was a good woman..... Peter said - And you don't know where they are now?..... No - she said. I'm sure they found another safe place... a warm, little den... a dear, old soul to take care of them. We just let them be. Why do you ask?...

Peter didn't answer..... 

Roland said - He made 'cherubs.' He did that. I can tell.... Then he looked at Peter and asked - Is that why they sealed you in the chest?..... Peter still didn't answer. Cherubs are baby vampires.... Maybe like a one or two year old toddler too. Bad enough making elferinos and elferinas, or the occasional child vampire, but them what make baby vampires are the worst. 

You know what vampire killers do when they catch 'cherubs?' They roast 'em on a spit. Take 'em off before they die. Dead vampires ignite into 'cold' blue flames too. Them what kills 'em can't have that. Feed 'em to hounds... Big ones... mastiffs... them giant, Brazilian ones too.... killers.... Want 'em to 'get' the scent and the taste. Use 'em to sniff out night-folk.... Dogs get a little bit night-folky too. 'Hell Hounds' they call 'em. Showed up here in Philadelphia a couple years back. But we haven't seen 'em lately. You should hear them howl at night. They got a religious order. Not the dogs, them what raise 'em. Not an official one, but they think they are. The Brotherhood of Saint Shamus of Castle Mara. Old too. Go back to the early days of Celtic Christianity... I don't know. Maybe they were an official order at one time? But they're not now. Haven't been for centuries. Still, if they think they are, who's to say? When they howl, the dogs, I mean, people say - Ah, the music of the children of the night.... Bela Lugosi didn't start that line. 

Edith picked up things about Peter, from when he was here in the townhouse. Said he 'smelled' from 'cherubs.' Probably an orphan taken in by The Brotherhood. But then something went wrong. 

Exactly what, we don't know. 

Back at the never used Mausoleum, Peter was gonna drag the dead guy out into the night ant bury him under some bushes. Lot a places in Laurel Hill for that. 

Boopsie don't want him to. She likes the dead guy. Uses her powers to make him twitch around..... Puppet! Puppet! Puppet! - she says...... Marianne, Roland and the other two (Celeste & Albion) don't like this.

But they can 'not like it' all they want, 'cause Peter won't let them go...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

click BOOGALOO for earlier posts.
click PHILLY DOG to join us on Twitter.
your COMMENTS are very much appreciated.
discuss the story, characters and lore. thank you.