A VAMPIRE APPROACHING HEAVEN MEETS AN OLD TEACHER.....zsa-zsa gabor and eddie fisher make quick, cameo appearances too

Oh, so he was stoned when he was only thirteen years old! So what!? I died in a fire at the hands of barbarian Crusaders. And it did not happen quickly. Not that I like to brag, but I endured that ultimate torment for what latter generations would call fortyfive minutes. True, there were periods of numbness (more or less), but only  till a fresh new layer of nerve cells could be accessed . Then the danse macabre started anew. And it all went on till my skull exploded. The mingled screams of eight score innocent souls, many just children,  still echoes through the firmamment, though their blessed spirits swirl  'round the Throne of God.

Come on. You must recall my name. I am Johannan, guardian servant to the young Jonathon at the time of his ordeal. And I stand close behind him as he climbs the Heavenly Stairs. How is he Here? I do not really know. Why is he Here? The complete truth of it eludes me. I think it has something to do with 'The Dream,' a Message sown by the one you all call Papa, though The Seeds belong to Someone Greater still.

It is spreading. Fibers of understanding weave through Creation, binding tight the whole. Some hear clearly. Others detect only muffled bits. They gather in the squares and meeting places, hungering for something better. You saw it in Fostat...no, ecuse me...Cairo...and in the American Empire, as concerned individuals came together for 'tea.' We (those of us Up Here, I mean) can smell it everywhere. The World that is Earth approaches a New Age...... Call it Aquarius......Call it the Post 2012 Improved Edition.......or maybe One of  The Comings.....First or Second.....take  your pick...................For it is true that The Great Carver is vain, but not that way.

A man comes down to greet my young charge. He is dressed in the clerical garb of a Great Teacher. And Jonathon encounters the Esteemed Rashi, as he was meant to do all those many lifetimes ago...

While down among mortals the dance still goes on. Twelve nights and days till the Scriptural New Year. A like period of time  till the Leader of the Near At Hand Ishmaelites speaks to The Peoplehood of Nations.
So much opportunity. So much work to do. Cut the pattern. Stitch it tight.....Just be sure you get it right.

Johannon waxes poetic. For before the fire, I had a bit of  'the bard' in me too.

Oooh1 Look! There by the star-gilt balustrade! Zsa-Zsa Gabor...and Eddie Fisher!!  Quick, let me get their autographs!

Come back on the morrow, to learn of Lailah and her sorrow.....

There now...Wasn't it nicer visiting with me, instead of that troublesome, little, false-prince, Zebulon?

SHALOM YELEDIM

DOCTOR FRANKLIN'S SCIENCE WAS AHEAD OF ITS TIME....the arcane mysteries of an old city

We sublimated through this material almost a year ago, but people still ask about these things, so here's a quick review. Benjamin Franklin did, in fact, construct an armonica. The original is not a huge contraption, like the Grand Armonica in out narrative. It's about three feet high and four feet long. Finely polished crystal discs, each with a hole drilled in the middle, are carefully mounted on a horizontal, bronze bar resting on a sawhorse-like  support. The discs, arranged in size order, can freely spin when 'played' by human (or maybe our killer monkey could do it too, I suppose) hands.

The instrment, an early tool in the study of harmonics, produces ethereal sounds akin to choirs of angels singing in Heaven. I said 'produces' instead of produced, because it still works. You can see it in the subterranean remnants of Franklin's Market Street  home. The great inventor suspected that the 'vibrations' produced (what later generations would call frequencies) could tap into other 'planes of existence.'  Indeed, urban legend claims that the accomplished nation builder never really 'died,' in the true sense, but was instead  'sublimated' into one of these parallel realities with the help of his intricate, glistening creation.

True, there is an old style 'slab' grave in an iron fenced, Society Hill church yard, but who knows what lies within. However, each dawn, when the light returns, early risers report seeing bright, copper pennies sprinkled on the site. How do they get there? The security camera shows nothing. Another old Philadelphia story, or something else?

And if you ever go wandering through our venerable municipality, know this, the large, busy and rather Norman French, castle-like City Hall Courtyard, rests upon the old hanging field. The granite and bronze compass rose inlaid into the pavers marks the 'drop.'  X marks the actual spot where n'er do wells and pie thieves met their Maker. I wonder if the capuccino laden  masses hurrying into work even know that? Thar be ghosties here.

The vampires and their other unusual friends will shimmer back into our realm tomorrow. Please take this opportunity to pierce the veil and wander through our 346 testimonies.. A pixilated magic awaits.