Sunday, May 8, 2011

THE GREAT IMPERIAL CITY OF PRAGUE

The life-eater couple left the warm room with the velvet chairs. They had eaten well. Human fare, mortal human fare. And it still tasted good. Jonathon had not so indulged for almost one thousand years. For Sarah the time was shorter. As they walked through the streets of this Other Worldly city, the buildings took on a rich, golden hue and the rooftops all shone red with natural, baked clay tiles. Fine, black iron lamp posts punctualed the gloaming with nebulous clouds of light. Music flowed out from the dwellings. And ornate broughams pulled by matching white horses progressed along the thoroughfares. Then, bit by bit, their physical bodies began to evaporate, til they were naught but moonbeams dancing in the night. Did this thing scare them? No, it felt quite natural. They were still together. They could still communicate. And if the vehicle for their thoughts was more ephemeral than before, the clarity of the conversation, never the less, improved. They spoke soul to soul and that was very pleasant indeed.

Jonathon said - I know this place. I was here........Where are we? - asked Sarah.......In the great, imperial, Hapsburg City of Prague. - said her companion.......She asked if this was the real Prague, or just a spiritual fabrication.....Jonathon laughed and said - I will find out.....So he called to a passing coachman, who saw nothing strange in responding to a disembodied spirit. And when that spirit inquired as to the provenance of the place, just laughed and said - Does it matter?.....The two ghostly life-eaters realized that it did not. They continued on their way...passed a church with a choir chanting beautiful songs....passed a palace lit for a ball...passed a pair of lovers kissing in the shadows...and a tiny tribe of pigeons nibbling pumpernickle crumbs from the cobbles. The streets grew narrow. The path more twisting. The sights more ancient, in a moldering, charming way. And then Jonathon stopped. For he saw it straight ahead, the dark stone Alt-Neu Schule. The Old-New School, the venerable synagogue of Bohemian Jews, a faithful bastion of belief..

He whispered, or rather his soul did, - It was just a genertation or two before my crossing to the New World, an excursion made from London, a chance to clear my head of all that frou-frou Restoration (or practically Restoration) nonsense. For yappy lap dogs and shoulder length wigs of persian lamb can grow exceedingly tiresome. So I drifted over here and learned important things.

The heavy oak door to this place of prayer cracked open, allowing a thin, trickle of light to flicker out beyond. A man stood in the entrance, an old man with a gray beard. He held a square, glass and copper lantern and wore the black robes (such as a judge might wear) of the Hebrew  clergy, his head covered by a dark, satin prayer cap.....And who is that man? - asked Sarah. Did you learn anything from him?.....Yes, I did. - said Jonathon. That worthy, old rabbi  taught me a lot.......

If you are unaccustomed to these tales, search out histories of the Golem. For we venture into Kabbalistic waters and there are certain things you must know.....Go on. I'll wait. You won't get lost.............

COPS AND VAMPIRES

Evelyn called the cops. That Gladys Kravitz (no relation to me, wilkravitz) skinny, nosy, two pound chicken old bitch called the cops. Luck they came after dinner. Can you imagine if they came during the day!? God only knows. Edith answered the door. There were two of them. Big guys. They like playin' cop. Like being bouncers for the city. That's what they looked like with their tight uniforms and their Popeye arms and all. People round here think they especially enjoy stickin' it to the Chestnut Hill crowd. You know - I make sixty thousand a year. You make ten times that. Now get  down on the ground and give me twenty.

One of them says to Edith - Excuse me ma'am, is the owner of the house home?.....She says - Yes. Then her eyes go all crazy, rollin' around and looking side to side. So the other whats-his-name-pro-wrestler-Jericho-wannabe says -  Is it all right if we speak with him? We'd like to ask him a few questions. But Papa is sharp. He spruces up real fast. Comes walking out of the kitchen, doin' his best 'ain't I a cool dad in a movie?' impersonation. Shakes hands with the 5-OH  dudes. Leads 'em into the 'parlor' (no, for real. the vampires actually call it 'the parlor.'). And five heartbeats later (they got me talkin' like them) everybody's sittin' around chewin' the fat. Do I know where he gets the fake I.D.'s from? No, I do not. But he has 'em. One for him. One for Luna. Some kinda paper identifying Little Annie. I am a personal assistant. Edith is a housekeeper. The Red Paints are down in  the sub-basement rec room watching Mrs. Doubtfire with the elves and cherubs. (for some reason, they get along especially well). And everything's honky-dory.

Edith says she wasn't hurt much. She sticks out her thick 'almost an old lady' pasty, white leg and shows them. Vampire blood infusionns work real fast. So except for two small bruises and one tiny, practically healed scrape, she's good as new. Well, not new, just as good as an almost old, pasty, white fat lady can be. You know what I mean? They laugh and laugh  about the crazy nextdoor shrill bitch who feeds her kid shitty pizza. The whole neighborhood knows that story. The kid has a blog about it. No, really. I've seen it. It's caller 'Hi, My Name is (can't say it for legal reasons) and My Mom Feeds Me Shitty Pizza. If I remember right, she's already got thirtytwo hundred hits.. Jeez, they gonna put her on Hoda and Kathy Lee soon....And now our next guest is...the girl whose mom feeds her shitty pizza...

Well, anyway, the Steve Jerichos stand up and get ready to leave. They buy the story that it was just some kid out to steal the patio furniture for scrap or something. She got knocked over. That's it. No big deal. The fact that Edith spiked their High-C with a teeny bit of vampire blood kept in the kitchen for just that purpose didn't hurt either. Everything worked out. We were lucky. Wanna know how lucky? Mrs. Doubtfire ended while the two crew-cuts were still up there. The cherubs start gettin' restless. They start flying around banging into the sub-basement door They wanna go upstairs and get Elmo or something.. You can't control them. The older Red Paint guy almost peed himself. How you gonna explain away four flyin' babies all dressed up in these real glittery, custom made (blame Luna) 'Dancin' With the Stars' tee shirts? Jeez! But even Edith can be shrewd when she has to be. Clicked on the TV real loud. Said she hadda watch American Idol.  Papa walked the boys in blue over to the door. Makes some joke about - Don't you guys have to be off catchin' hoboes with shotguns or something. And that was it.

So now we got Evelyn to worry about......Papa will take care of her....Such is life in the...(what do we call it?)...oh, yeah, ...in the wonderland.

NOW HERE COMES THE EASY TO FOLLOW, HOW TO SET UP YOUR OWN BLOG AND COMMANDEER ALL MEDIA INFORMATION......
1) establish an email account
2) go to blogger.com. If, for some obscure reason that does not work, go to blogspot.com.
3)  click on 'starting your own blog, or whatever the graphics are calling it these days. you CAN'T MISS IT.
4) fill out the quick, short, easy form. EVERYTHING IS COMPLETELY FREE AND REMAINS FREE ALWAYS. The whole form only contains about five questions. a) your name, address, phone etc. b) name of blog. c) email address...and that's about it.
5) they'll ask you to click onto your choice of background 'wall papers' and colors. Hey, when I did this I was a complete computer beginner and I had no problem at all. It was scary how easy it was to grab hold of a piece of  the worl-wide media.
6) you'll see a 'dashboard' (control panel that is self explanatory. Just single click onto whatever it is you want to do...New Post (write new material) check your 'stats' (statistics on number of viewers you've had), change backgrounds...it's all easy to understand.
7) then you're 'on the air.' that's it.
8) if you can type on a standard word processor style keyboard or typewriter you're all set. there is no limit to the length of your blog posts. the space provided will grow to accomodate the material
9) if you are on blogger.com...and you probably will be...your link will be http://thenameyoupick.blogspot.com/.    Your name will appear where it says thenameyoupick. I just put that there as an example. remember, no spaces.
10) then stick your link up wherever you can...on your twitter profile page...on facebook...anywhere. ...you need publicity...make comments on other people's blogs. when you sign in, your link goes up automatically. People will start to see your link. Tweet about it often, but don't be too obnoxious...like we all sometimes get, or people will call you a spammer. But don't worry about that. Get going and have fun. Post often or readers will lose interest. Pick a specialty for yourself-----reprint travel deals from other sites...critique TV or movies, or restaurants, or fashions, or sports...whatever. Just DON'T PUT THIS OFF. DO IT. Fame (even just the chance for it) is intoxicating. And while it may take anywhere from a couple weeks to a few months to build up a following, stick with it. Big watermelons grow from little seeds. If you know how to post graphics (I'm still learning) so much the better. Now go out there and become a STAR!!!