Tuesday, December 19, 2017

WITCHES ARE A KIND OF CHIMERA 12/19/17 Exotic & Mysterious Spanish Guitar Music: CHIMERA - Al Marconi

 

Many of our posts speak of vampires. We mention other forms of biologic rarities in passing. Tonight we highlight witches... born witches. These are not successful students of the arcane. Their efforts have no real part in it. Such human confections are simply born that way. In most instances, the trait comes down from one parent. Statistically it can devolve from both, but, existing cases are very, very few in number. Please understand that there was no way to positively identify a 'born witch,' at least there was no scientifically recognized method. With the advent of genetic testing, the same mail-away, cheek swab, or spit-in-a-vial investigative procedure can reveal 'magic blood.'

Everything we are starts with our genes. Think of them as hard wired 'spells.' Genes control our physical form, our abilities, or lack of abilities in all spheres of life. Most humans possess the usual combination... an equal distribution of tiny chemical cocktails from each parent. But sometimes an interloper comes into the mix. Such complications happen very early in a pregnancy when two zygotes (potential fetuses) develop. Normally, they'd continue to grow as twins, either identical or fraternal. Under certain conditions the twins unite, continuing development, but as one organism, resulting in one person with more than the normal allotment of genes. Few such people are handicapped by this outcome. Most live average lives. But some are not average. We don't yet understand how extra genetic stores actually 'change' an organism, yet clearly various things can result.

Some tests indicate that various 'talents' we call 'magic' are just enhanced electrical  emanations . The magic happens when we're sensitive to those forces, or able to control them.
Controlled forces can manifest as the ability to move or alter matter. Heightened sensitivity can enable the bearer to 'read' minds. Certain very powerful adepts can control their own atoms to such a thorough degree they can change shape, or transport themselves from one physical location to another . Some are so attuned to the emanations of  others they can discern thoughts regardless of distance... and they can send thoughts too. A very few are able to control atoms with such precision they can conjure objects out of the ether.

One such unusual example was Abner of  Crete, an eighth century physician and alchemist who according to many unrelated accounts had the ability draw the blood out of a living body through the pores and capillaries. Victims were covered by countless tiny, thin arcs of red liquid bursting forth from every part of their bodies, even the corneas of their eyes. It's said that same Abner was able to transport the heads and necks of unfortunate subjects up from their shoulders and to his presence with a clean cut precision not seen till the advent of the guillotine one thousand years later.

A daring woman, the Dowager WarWife of  Loch Negan used to denude a whole great hall of drunken guests with an arthritic clap of her old, liver spotted hands. Needless to say, she caused many clan wars and illegitimate births among the chieftans and land lords of the Highlands. After a while, her visitors had to know what they were getting into. Maybe that was the attraction? Bards of the day sang songs for years.

The practitioner known as Ubis of Ebis (gender unknown) tuned into the Papal Confessional in Rome via remote viewing, thus privy to every foible of every pope during the reigns of all the Frankish Pippins, till eventually being caught and forced to take a molten lead bath in a large vat of what was essentially a nine hundred degree cauldron of viscous heavy mud. Attendants forced the unhappy bather down into the hellish porridge with long, sharp poles most often used to impale the juvenile dependents of heretics and other non conformist types.

Some born witches use magic for good. Some do not.
 Oh, one more thing... What does 'chimera' mean?... It means two differing animals in one body. For instance griffins are chimeras, as are merfolk and squid-puppies.

Utilization of 'the craft' can be a very nasty business...

But look, don't let that stop you. Take one of those tests. Find out. You might be one of the good ones...

<till next time>

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Sunday, December 17, 2017

Our Vampire Jonathon loves this song-LeAnn Rimes - Lullabye (Goodnight, My Angel) - Billy Joel cover

 

The nearly immortal being known as 'Jonathon speaks -

I've done this every year at this time for centuries. I hope you are a regular visitor. Then you'll know. The house is locked up. Sarah is in her cubicle. Annie sleeps. Conrad, Edith, all of them are snug in their places. I sit in the 'little' library. The draperies are drawn. By the low warm light of a small, Chinese, porcelain lamp I count out coins, large, heavy, yellow, golden coins, Venetian ducats.... a 'vampire' tradition. I measure them out upon a lap desk... five to a sack...(sighs)... A 'familiar' (mortal helper) makes them up for me... small, dark blue velvet, drawstring sacks trimmed with thin golden rope around the top. In other lands, at other times, others made them, but the form has not changed in more than three hundred and fifty years... I'm told, in this time and in this city a gold, Venetian ducat brings more than two thousand American dollars. What's that come to, twelve thousand for each sack...

When ten are filled, I shall go out on the streets and in the wee hours before the light, I shall distribute them where they will accomplish good things...  Our little boy ghost watches me. He came with the house. We've only been here for a few years. Oh, there were other townhouses and a manor up in Chestnut Hill once or twice, but the poor, tiny, polio victim has been here since the nineteen thirties. He likes the 'little' library too. Plays with a set of old, painted, pot metal soldiers on the rug, a hand drawn deck of Hungarian cards and an etched brass top . Sometimes he manipulates them quite well. Death cured his polio, thank God. Other nights he just looks at them. Abilities are not always constant in the supernatural world, especially during the first few decades. Powers lapse, tea cups break. Parakeets talk Romanian. Old Ladies whistle the Barcarole. You know how it is.

Now I am off... a thousand year old soul (well, a thousand years old on Earth) with a young man's body. Most take me for anywhere from eighteen to twenty eight, depending on how they view things. There's a two nights' old icy glaze on the streets. I dress warm and go out, the gold coins, in their velvet sacks, snug in the deep, zippered pockets of my black puffy coat... A vampire with a black, zip-up, puffy coat. They'd drum me out of the union..... Ah, the songs I hear in my head... The Tales Of Hoffman... Rhymes of a Quayside Bawd. Bet you don't know that one... from Paris in the 14 30's.

(he leaves, locks the door behind him and silently hops down the steps... a gray, tiger stripped tabby falls in behind. they turn the corned and are off)

Mortals fear these long nights. It's instinctive and stamped upon the breed. Imagine how dark it was before all the tick-tock niceties we have now. Utter blackness. Maybe moonlit nights were a bit different, but then you'd see the shadows. Then you'd know what was out there... not exactly what it is, but you'd know it was coming.... That's why we have festivals now, parties to lure back the sun and then celebrate when it returns. No more slow, creeping death, but new birth and ever increasing life.

Soon I will slip 'life' into the pockets of desperate people. There's a handwritten note tucked into each drawstring sack --- Please contact Leverett & Reed for instructions and advice in the redemption of these coins..... I've dealt with them since seventeen fifty one, a most reputable counting house. Now they call themselves 'investment counselors.' There's an old gentleman who handles antiques. In the New World, Philadelphia is the mother lode. I'm sure they'll do well. That twelve thousand dollars per sack mentioned earlier was just gold value. Genuine Venetian ducats are highly collectible. Ask the Buccaneers of Hispanola ...

Now please forgive me. I have lives to change and people to see. Well, most of them will be sleeping. That makes it more special. I know some of you heard about the night that started all this... I trot it out every year 'round this time.

Google  --- Indulge me a bit... Vampire Wonderland... it'll be there...

To think if I went up in flames right now, my tale... all, well, by now close to one million words of it would go on for centuries, suspended in this ether they call 'the cloud.'...

That, my friends, is immortality too...

<hasta la proxima>

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Sunday, December 10, 2017

Vampires LOVE it When there's a Blizzard in Philadelphia (4k) 12/10/17

 

Vampires love the winter. They love the dark and the cold. Sarah, Jonathon's understanding consort, walks the streets for hours all bundled up in her black puffy coat and thick (also black) wool hat. She stops and gives homeless people gift cards to fast food places. Sure the food's not the healthiest, but other places chase them. In a fast food joint they can, at least, duck into the toilet for a fast fix up and eat their meal in peace. There's always a corner somewhere... maybe a discarded newspaper or magazine. The heat feels good. They can decompress a little. And you know she loads the cards up to about two hundred and fifty dollars. Figures that'll last them between ten days and two weeks. Sometimes she gives out six packs of tightie-whities and t-shirts too... sometimes six packs of white gym socks. It makes a difference. She used to give out jeans and sweat shirts too and enough money so they could slip into a Laundromat and wash their stuff every once in a while. But few had the will power for that. They'd buy alcohol.

Carries a big plastic shopping bag from Target. She doesn't do this every night, but often enough. Look, she knows a few of them sell the gift cards for maybe a few bucks (how much can another homeless guy have?). But at least second guy keeps it and WANTS the food.

One guy, Jim had cancer. Lost a whole lot of weight. Looked like that deep gravelly voiced singer who sings about life on the street. Told her his name was 'Bob.' Sarah got friendly with Bob. Gave him money. Gave him a lot of stuff. Arranged for a room in a clean but plain hotel twice a week, so he could get cleaned up and sleep and all. She would have arranged for the place full time. Bob didn't want that..... Tom Waite! That's the name. The singer is Tom Waite. They'd talk over coffee or tea. Sit there for hours. The waitresses never said anything. Who else was gonna come in that late... even in the city.

Sarah never said she was a vampire, but he knew. He never said anything, never had to. Neither did she. One night she passed him a vial of her blood. She said - Here, drink this... What's it gonna do? - he asked... Sarah said - Just drink it. You want to be well, don't you?... Bob just looked at her. She nodded... He took it. He drank it.... A few nights later he was all better. Then he disappeared. Not right in front of her or anything. It wasn't like that. He just stopped showing up at that hotel. No one saw him on the street. He just left. She kept thinking about him though. If she was a vampire before Jonathon, if he didn't bring her over, she might have started something with Bob... Maybe he could have been her consort? Sarah never found out why he was on the streets... His crowd (homeless types often have a small group, maybe three or four) never knew. That's how it was.

Winter nights were like that. People talked more. Maybe the dark made them seek each other out?

So she wandered the streets and did her thing.... 'culled' the wicked... saved the worthy. Never made a big thing out of it. Most never knew she was there. Just sublimated into some high rise bedroom and did it. Jonathon liked his little confrontations. He liked his passion plays. Not Sarah. She liked the cold. She liked the snow. She liked the dark. Look, they all like winter... the vampires, I mean. But she had a deep appreciation for it... a reverence. Odd, considering Jonathon was the spiritual one. Even for a vampire he was spiritual. No two were alike.... 'alone in the dark' they called it.

Before she went back to the townhouse, Sarah went into a CVS store and bought a couple magazines... all kinds... Jonathon liked magazines... He bought them too. But most nights he stayed out till the last minute and had to rush back before the dawn, so he never had time.... Sarah was responsible. She had time.

I guess she's the Wendy to his Peter Pan.

Look, no one ever bothers vampires when they roam the city late at night. It's like a 'thing' they have, an aura.

But if you have a couple friends, go out some time, in the wee hours before dawn. Be quiet. Be discreet. Look around...

It's a whole other world and most people never even realize it's there.

<more next time>

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