Saturday, June 30, 2012


The huge whale surfaced just off the coast of a small island. A lacy, veil of windswept clouds raced 'cross a yellow moon. And then he began to sing. Tomas felt the pulsating rhythms. He pressed into Luna. She felt them too. Ten heartbeats later, the opaque, rubbery barrier, secreted by the leviathan, began to deteriorate. Strips of thick, elastic mucus peeled back, exposing the vampire couple to the chill, night air. The lights of Bermuda glowed over the horizon, but our preternatural twosome was headed somewhere else. 

Tomas kicked off from his gigantic steed. Luna did the same. They swam through the sea  toward the island, wading up onto a crowded rookery. Masses of sea birds, large gulls, or perhaps some type of albatross, screamed at their advance, surrendering just enough space for the invaders to sit down. 

He brushed back her hair, flicked little bits of seaweed from her smooth, white skin and kissed her. She trembled, not from the cold, but in anticipation. Papa was practiced. Papa was thorough. Papa was good. And he satisfied himself, there in that enchanted place, before an audience of dozing smelt-eaters and their wide-eyed, fuzzy chicks. Luna found pleasure too. And they held each other upon the soft, gray sand.

The vampirina listened to his heartbeat. She heard it quicken and looked up as the first merman emissary broke the surface. How very human he looked..... How very 'terrestrial'... a well formed head.... a strong, thick neck and broad, shapely shoulders. He bore no sash or torque. There was no outward sign of rank. But he said something, or rather made some foreign, sea-folk sounds. Papa responded in Old Vamperigo, a very early dialect, akin to ancient Lusitanian tongues spoken in Western Iberia eons ago.

They got up, stepped down along the beach, careful not to harm their avian neighbors, and walked into the sea. Fifteen heartbeats later, the silvery wavelets reached their chins and they began to swim out to a place where a squadron of merman circled 'round them. Some reached out to stroke their thighs and calves. Sea-folk love exploring dry-folk legs. And Luna gasped as they tickled some where else...... Soon after, the mermen descended. The vampires followed. And the last thing to show above the moonlit ripples was the glistening, rounded orbs of Luna's cheeks...


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Friday, June 29, 2012

Tomas a.k.a. Jonathon, Reads to Sarah From The Pages of an Old Vellum Text

He wanted to go, but they did not chose him. Sarah was glad. She remembered their sojourn in the parallel world. So they sat together on an old rooftop, deep within the loft district of Old City (Philadelphia has a lot of such places) and he read to her from a relatively small, old vellum book. In times passed, during the middle ages, these small volumes were called 'ladies' books,' or sometimes 'students'  texts.' 

Tomas sublimated into the rare book stacks of the main library, on The Parkway, to get it, but the librarians knew and trusted him. He'd done the like before.

Listen to this - he said. Synods of sea-folk occupied bays, estuaries and coves throughout the known world. Hibernia, that means Ireland, had many such colonies, as did Normandy and Brittany. Two factions fought  over the spot where the Thames met the sea. And mermen were known to reconnoiter the Seine right up to Paris.

Sarah said - Did you ever see any? Did they have them in Spain?......... No, I don't think so - said Tomas. You'll have to remember, The Caliphate of Cordoba was much more advanced militarily. We had the beginnings of what would become gun powder. Our blades were the best, as were our ships. Divers descended down into the sea via diving bells. Do you know what they are?........Yes - said his consort. I know the trick...third grade science. Plunge an upside down glass down into a sink filled with water and the inside stays dry........ 

Some of the large bells held three men. They'd go down at night. Not too deep. I think fifty cubits was the norm. You know, pearl fisherman from various islands in the Indian Ocean were the best...divers, I mean, next to sea people, that is. Now mer-folk are diurnal. They crave sunlight. That's why they want to reclaim the old, coastal homes today. Darkness frightens them. It's cold. Oh, they can bear cold, but they do not like it. But sometimes a juvenile would be out...not a child...more like our 'elves.'  And such young ones tend to be naive. They're careless. They come too close. Curious creatures too. And we all know how fatal that can be........... He showed her an 'illuminated' (highly colored) panel depicting the abduction of a mer-folk prince and princess.

What did they do, kill them? - asked Sarah....... No - said Tomas. They'd take them hostage. The sea people truly value life and love their children to the utmost. Cruel practices like that drove them off. A rare pitch from the eastern Mediterranean, able to burn underwater, helped too. So they left our shores, retreating to The Azores. They say some frequent The Canary Islands to this day........ He gave her the book. She looked at the pictures, fine, medieval representations of fantastical sea kings and their 'dogs,' fearsome barracuda-like things, able to slice through the depths and tear into prey.

Are you at all familiar with The Canary Islands? - he asked........ No - she said............ Then I'll tell you - whispered the vampire. There is an island, Cubierta en Palmas  (covered in palms), a beautiful place hiding a terrible secret. The ground along its western flank is unstable. Some say vast, mountain sized rocks, granite 'icebergs,' if you will, could smash into the ocean at any time. Others say in ten thousand years. Who knows? But whenever it happens, a gigantic wall of water will race across the sea, crushing all who live upon our eastern shore.......... Don't you mean 'drowning'? - she said....... No, crushing...scraped along the surface by a dark, cold god-like hand. Even the bones will be pulverized.

Could the mer-folk do things to hasten this event? - she asked.

Tomas didn't answer, but he leaned in and turned the page..... showing her the truth.

And ten hundred miles to the east, in the waters 'round Bermuda, Papa and Luna approached the first deep sea bastion.....


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Wednesday, June 27, 2012


Papa was briefed by some guys from Foggy Bottom.  That's headquarters for the state department. It's where Secretary Clinton has her office. They know all about the fishy people (actually 'dolphiny,' but, hey, it's a Chicken of The Sea thing, so we're stuck with it) and it ain't gonna be easy. 

Can't just bring 'em into the country. In this case, the territorial waters, because they are hominids. They are human, after a fashion. And they do have their own form of political organization. Plus, you know how parochial most quasi-educated citizens are. What would they think? We're just gonna let in a whole bunch a totally nude strangers with fish tails? And if them, why not the Mexicans? They got cultural rights to the South West too, you know. What's more, they ain't naked and they got legs.

Right now, the guys in Washington are lined up behind the 'Down Under' solution. Send them all to populate the waters along certain almost empty stretches of  Western Australian coastline. Lots a fish. Nice climate. Potential income. What tourist wouldn't LOVE swimming with the Mer-folk? You think swimming with the dolphins is so special? The hell with  dolphins. Who needs 'em?

Luna says they got the same number of genes and chromosomes as we do. So like what... we gotta  change the marriage laws again? And what  about the kids? What are they gonna  look like? Could they compete in the Olympics? Would it be legal? Winter Games would be out. Hockey'd pose problems...skiing too, I guess. Would they be 'resident aliens,' or what? We're not gonna just surrender prime riparian territories.. Think of the potential mineral rights. Do they even use money? How would they carry it? I'm guessing the average cloaca can only hold so much.

Preliminary word from their 'Great Speaker' eighty-sixes the Aussie deal. Ain't their homeland. No ancestral ties to the place. They want to reclaim old ceremonial centers. I told you about those massive undersea structures near The Bahamas, didn't I? It's like a city. It's 'their' city. Oh, and there's another one off  Avalon, New Jersey we ain't even 'discovered yet. Think what's gonna happen the first time some pinky ring bastid in a forty two foot sedan cruiser runs over a nice, little fishy-boy. Who's laws would apply? 

And we can't just let 'em in illegally, like an invasive species, 'cause you know SWAMP PEOPLE'd be out there in five minutes harpoonin' the shit outta them. Mermaid ass steaks...two hundred bucks a pound. 

Look, this ain't no joke. Apparently, they are not without some muscle. Fact-finders indicate they CAN effect sea levels via judicial changes to undersea currents. We've seen the ancient dams. The whole state of Florida could be Ariel-central in three months..... And you know Disney ain't gonna stand for that.

Maybe Canada wants 'em?


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Tuesday, June 26, 2012


Done. It was settled. The mermaid-hag goes free. Doctor Franklin was convinced he couldn't learn anymore from her. She was crazy. She was old. She had to go home. We can't tell you exactly how old, because we don't know. Some sea captain... a whaling era sea captain... sold her to the Anti- Enchantment-Bureau way back when it was still called The Junto. This was like in early Federalist times. You know, lots of blinding, white neck linen and Beau Brummel top hats. If you need a visual, Google the Cholly Knickerbocker guy from The New Yorker. 

Medics seem to think mer-folk age like whales... and some of them are believed to be more than two hundred years old. Not much, compared to vampires and all, but, hey, I'll take it. Just in case you're wondering, it's me, wilkravitz. They got me back doing channeling duty. Didn't get no new sneakers yet. I'll let you know when and if....

So it's gonna be Papa, Luna and the crazy, old, cackling sea-hag. I think they decided on Luna because she was originally some kind of physician and they always send a saw-bones on these things. Remember STAR TREK?

A helicopter's takin' 'em out to the western edge of The Gulf Stream. Papa wanted to sublimate, but the sea-hag opted for the 'sky ride,' as she called it and after all she's been through, they gave it to her.  It's one of those big choppers, like the army has, 'cept ain't no army guys flying it. This is strictly a Doctor Franklin (and that means Anti-Enchantment-Bureau) joint. But they wear mirrored sunglasses too. And some of 'em talk with these phony, real clipped, 'South'ron' accents, so what's the diff? Like army guys dipped in a little bit a Hogwarts sauce. That's what they are.

Got a little tank for the old mermaid. Has to have a lid so the water don't go sloshing all around. Couldn't get her no raw salmon. Not enough time. So some guy ran out to the Acme (Albertson's to non-Philly people) and grabbed a whole lot a Mrs. Paul's crap. (n0, I DON'T mean that it's actual crap. We just talk that way, so deal with it. I eat it too. So shut your mouth. OK?). She don't like the bread crumb part, but the stuff 'under' is all right.

Papa and Luna are already naked. They have to be naked when they hit the water, in order to meld with the whales. And did I tell you they once had a 'thing' going? I know I must have. Look, if you're a regular reader, you know all that. Sarah almost bit off a titty. But now she don't care. She's the 'wife.'  This one (Luna) is just the slut. That's how it is. Like in the British aristocracy.

Pilot takes 'em down real low. WHUMP-WHUMP-WHUMP from the blades echos up from the surf....waves fan out in concentric circles. Wind blowin'. Moon shinin'. Gulls screamin' (they feed out here.) Whales singin'. Papa takes Luna's hand. He leans in and kisses her, as they jump. Then about eight mirrored sunglasses guys tip the tank and send the loony sea-hag back where she belongs.  Oh, she was SO happy, clappin' her hands and singin' Popeye the Sailor..... Funny thing is, when she hit the water she got younger. Not that she looked any better...Just acted it. Started beatin' her ratty old fluke up and down, just like a dolphin. Papa let her go. She knows the way. But he did wrap her up in a real tight hoo-doo (magic barrier) to keep away the sharks and orcas.

'Bout forty eight heartbeats later, he sees the whale.... real big one, like a fin, or a great blue... something like that. Rises up from the depths like a giant ghost, or maybe like a Jules Verne submarine. You know they can be more than one hundred feet long? 'Bout fourteen times longer than Papa. If  you were a whale and say like six feet tall, them little vampires would be just under five and a quarter inches.... like a salt shaker, or something like that..... Like the native guy in King Kong The Original's mouth...... So instinctively Luna tenses up. But Papa starts rubbin' her flanks and ticklin' her thighs to make her relax. Then he wraps her in his arms real tight and they sink down onto the great, broad back of this prince of the sea. Ten heartbeats later they stretch out flat, belly to the beast, as the mucus starts oozing from specialized pours, enveloping them in a thick, heavy, protective cocoon...

We couldn't travel like that. We'd die. But vampires can. It's how they cross the sea. It's how they've always crossed the sea.

You know the Story 'Bout Jonah? Well, in reality it was something like this...

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Monday, June 25, 2012


I cannot do the channeling of vampiric communications this evening due to unforeseen circumstances. Will explain tomorrow. Til then, you might want to look down and click on the post right under this... The one called ~~~SOMETIME IT AIN'T THE CAT WHAT GOT YOUR TONGUE. I know a lot of us take Sarah for granted, but take a look. See how she do when she get mad....

Oh, and one more thing... The crazy, old mermaid-hag wanna go home and Doctor Franklin say might let her.....(more on EL MUNDO MERMANIA tomorrow)


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vampire wonderland: SOMETIMES IT AIN'T THE CAT WHAT GOT YOUR TONGUE......: Sarah strolled through the semi-arid parklands, so like the California she was used to. Jonathon's forebearers had tombs there. He showed he...

MERMANI WEAPONS --- Strategic Maneuvers AVAILABLE to those We term Mermaids and Mermen

To those who have been following our postings for the last few nights.... Please know that the Mermani are NOT completely defenseless. They are an intelligent breed with EXTENSIVE knowledge of undersea currents and conditions. 

Ancient and medieval records indicate a certain measure of what we would call 'technological know-how' as well. It's believed they produced a type of underwater concrete used to construct huge buildings and vast, marine, civic complexes. Remnants of these polities are found off the coast of The Bahamas and near the Japanese island of Okinawa. Early Celtic peoples in The British Isles spoke of Hi-Brasil, a quasi-mythological place off to the west, beyond the tip of Cornwall. Similar references dot the records of Bronze Age peoples from Malta, The Levant and Iberia. Meso-American civilizations were familiar with Mermani settlements off the coast of Yucatan. 

Certain historians maintain the Herodian Dynasty in Roman Era Judea got the recipe for aqueous concrete (used to build the imposing port of Caesaria Maritima) from an Eastern Mediterranean Mer-folk chieftan known as 'Yam Seran' or sea prince.

The two surviving strains of the genus 'homo' remained in more or less close contact til the very early years of the nineteenth century, when a variety of changing circumstances forced Mer-folk to retreat from the coastal seas, settling in deep water communities along the Mid Atlantic Ridge, a huge, Andes-like, undersea mountain range stretching from the Southern tip of Greenland to the Antarctic Peninsula. (10,000 miles).

This vast, natural barrier, via certain mountain passes, facilitates the blending of warm and cold water, resulting in the formation of climate-shaping currents, such as The Gulf Stream.

Military Intelligence indicates Mermani have the capability to alter these currents through the use of dam-like gates and sea-bottom tunnels. Needless to say, their mastery of 'wet-set' concrete makes it possible.  Slight alterations of naturally occurring  flow patters could significantly alter global weather. In fact, some consider global warming to be a Mermani plot which will enable them to re-establish themselves on the soon-to-be flooded coastal plains.

Our negotiations with these people is of the utmost importance. Ambassadorial protocols are being formulated and recorded right now.

Which vampire, or vampires, do you think will make the trip? Remember, they need no oxygen. breathing is just a habit, not a necessity. Both groups (Vampiri and Mermani have Cetani (whale) alliances. Each group is well versed in the lore of the other.

Vampires as enemies? I think not. We should thank God we have them. 

please read the previous two or three postings for clarification of this report.

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Saturday, June 23, 2012


I am a leader among my people. We have tasted the presence of those you call vampiri since the time before time. I am of the saline water...a swimmer, not a walker. I am mermani. My language is unique. Dry-folk cannot reproduce it. We sing to the cetani (the whales) and they sing to us. I send these thoughts to you via a conduit, the 'wise woman' known as Edith. It is she who 'types' these words upon the magical device.

My kind have seen your kind, primarily in vampiri form, since the time when water turned to stone, known to you as 'ice ages.' We saw them as they crossed the sea upon the backs of whales. 

Now, we seek parlance with them. I know how you assemble yourselves. I know of your nations. Mermani have similar customs..... and we want to preserve them. 
Make room for us. Accept us. We want to come back...not to the land. That is not our place. We want to reclaim the frontiers...those shallow places where scallops grow...and oysters...and prawns. We want to see the sun. The depths are cold and dark and hard. A place as barren as the moon.

Let us swim through coastal waters. Let our children see your children. For we are of this planet too.

Send your scroll bearers (ambassadors). Send your vampiri emissaries. We welcome them. We will talk to them. The one you call 'Papa' is known here. He visits with his friends. He has seen the Hidden City. 

I do not know who your Great Speakers will chose. I do not know if they will send the one known as 'Papa.' But he would be a good choice. Send him...or perhaps his son.....

We cannot threaten you. Our weapons have no edge. We need your help and understanding.

Do not reject us.... Please, do not reject us. 

May He Who made the Universe make us, in Spirit, one.



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Friday, June 22, 2012


this is an addendum to our narrative. we will attempt to provide a thumbnail sketch focusing on  the biological development of Homo-aquaticus.

Two million years ago the genus called homo consisted of various species. there was australopithecus, homo-erectus, certain little known 'dwarf' varieties as well as types yet undiscovered.

each strain was shaped by their environment. grassland specimens grew long legs, the better to lope through the dense foliage. northern clans developed thick, robust torsos in order to conserve heat.

some isolated populations inhabited coastal estuaries, existing on a diet of bivalves and arthropods. in many ways their lives paralleled that of early cetaceans (whales). subsequent generations became even more suited to their environment. tailbones reappeared, continuing to lengthen and gain strength as the years passed. primitive examples used the appendage in a rather reptilian manner, much like modern day alligators. legs degenerated and ultimately vanished, although some contemporary examples still bear vestigial leg bones buried deep in the muscular hind sections.

after a time, nature produced a creature rather like a marine centaur. at first, the skin on the lower parts favored that found on dolphins and porpoises, however a fortuitous mutation, thought to have originated among a 'bottleneck' population scattered among what became the Indonesian Islands, produced a series of atavistic traits unseen since the age of amphibians, providing those so endowed with the ability to absorb oxygen through their skins. thus the aquatic form became truly marine. lungs continued to function, but were clearly secondary to dermal respiration.

fossil evidence place this transition at approximately 750,000 years before the present. since then the species known as homo-aquaticus (though homo-marinarus would be more like it) has continued to evolve and develop. Early admixtures of Cro-Magnon blood are found in their DNA record as well.

at one time populations frequented wide spread coastal areas scattered around the tropical and subtropical regions of our planet. but terrestrial human incursions forced these groups to abandon the shallows for the depths. 

today they are found chiefly along the Mid Atlantic Ridge and certain trenches in the Western Pacific. 

now you know.....


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Thursday, June 21, 2012


Shadowy, artificial moonlight reflected up off the tiny wavelets, gilding the vampires in shimmering, silvery radiance. Tomas felt the doctor approach. He turned and nodded, but the others continued watching the grotesque, old, aquatic, she-thing make faces at them through the glass. Finally, the doctor said - She knows all the words to I'm Popeye the Sailor Man and Don't Dunk a Doughnut If You Don't Know How to Dunk....... He waved at Sarah. She waved back. Annie stuck her tongue out. Doctor Franklin gave her the finger. Conrad smiled nervously....... The doctor continued - Wants me to get her some baby penguins, or puffins, maybe. Apparently they're great delicacies among the mer-folk. Funny, she's never mentioned them before. But I suppose in her dotage she remembers things from the past........ Then he whispered something into his smart phone. Five heartbeats later an attendant entered the marine enclosure through a small side door and gave the sea hag a small bucket filled with sliced, raw fish (salmon, from the look of it) and sweet, freshly shucked scallops. She gurgled impatiently, grabbed the bucket and started to eat.

Manners are not a strong point among her kind. Yet I must admire the way she slurps it all up with such relish. Rather like certain uncouth elements in the First Continental Congress I had to deal with. I'm sure you remember, Tomas. Am I right? ......... That you are, Doctor Franklin. That you are - said the attractive vampirino........... Where is our graceful, Ashanti princess? - asked the doctor......... Baylah did not accompany us - said Tomas. She waits for her upholsterer. Natuzzi leather sofas are all the rage; don't you know?......... Don't be impertinent, my unusual 'young' man. I know everything and you know that - smiled the doctor...... Then please sir - said Sarah. Share a bit of your all encompassing knowledge and tell us why we were brought here?......... You knew that? - whispered the doctor........ Sarah's expression indicated that she did....... Smart girl - said the venerable patriot.

There's trouble out along the Mid-Atlantic Ridge - said Franklin. Agitation among the mer-folk. It seems they miss their traditional, seasonal treks to the shore. Haven't been able to do so for almost two hundred years. Not since humans took up bathing. Ocean bathing, I mean. Prior to that, except for occasional fishing villages, coastlines used to be deserted places. Run ins with mer-folk were rare. But then we encroached upon their territory. Children were snatched. Mer-children, I mean. I believe they still have two skeletons on display On the Boardwalk In Atlantic City? Funny, she knows that song too. Don't you, old girl!- he yelled, as he rapped on the glass........ The aquatic crone responded with a series of rude noises made with her left fist and her right arm-pit. Then she absentmindedly began playing with her cloaca, as the scientist/alchemist continued.........

We want to send people out to observe. Mer-folk are extremely intelligent. Can't afford to antagonize them. They might be useful. Divers are no good. Can't withstand the pressure. Deep water, submergeable ships are no better. You vampires seem to be the ticket. Oxygen means nothing to you. Pressure is just an immaterial variable. I know your history. I know how you traverse the sea. Probably a few life-eaters walking across the abysmal plain now, as we speak. Only thing is, I don't know them, but I do know you. Of course the government, in Washington will grant you full ambassadorial status. They've never done that before. Not with your kind, I mean. Annie, you can't go - said the doctor....... She tried to kick him, but Tomas restrained her........ And here I was going to give you a baby butterfly-vixen. A 'Tinkerbelle,' I think you call it- said Franklin. Do you want one?..... Annie petulantly said that she did....... Well then behave, my little brat and you may get one - said the doctor.

He went on, sharing certain other particulars, as he ushered them into his own, rather baronial, chambers. Attendants came out bearing rare, costly aroma candles (not like what Edith bought at Target) and Annie was given a handsome, bell shaped, crystal terrarium containing a beautiful, little, iridescent butterfly-vixen. She even murmured - Thank you......

You might want to come back tomorrow night. Franklin's going to fill us in on the parallel evolution of mer-folk...... Look, if sea lions and seals are no more than aquatic bears, the same thing is possible with humans. I'm telling you. Come back. You'll see....

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Wednesday, June 20, 2012

A NIGHT AND A DAY WITH DOCTOR BENJAMIN FRANKLIN -----vampires make good house guests

Vampires make good house guests. They never dirty the bathrooms or use up all the toilet paper. Doctor Franklin enjoys entertaining night-folk. And via a tiny chip inserted deep into the sleek thigh muscle of Sarah (or was it Tomas?) during an earlier 'visit' he was able to steer the conversation inside the taxi-van his way. The always eager MOLE GIRLS will have to wait. All stripped down and no one to grope. That's just the way it is. 

Were the vampires aware of DOCTOR FRANKLIN'S influence? No, not at all. The scientifically preserved reprobate is much to subtle for that. SARAH started it. She said - Who wants to see the mermaid?...... Annie loves more-than-mythological creatures. She was all for it. Tomas enjoys all night bull sessions with America's MERLIN too. So they did a minor hoo-doo to the driver's cerebellum and approximately twelve minutes later pulled up to his door...... a nondescript green, metal portal leading to what looked like a storage locker set amidst a slew of commercial, quasi military structures deep within the contemporary labyrinth that is Philadelphia's reborn NAVY YARD. And it's almost impossible to get in. But Doctor Franklin gave the heads-up to his ANTI-ENCHANTMENT-BUREAU cronies (the REAL men in black, although fine, buff khaki is also acceptable this time of year) so all barriers were down. Even switched all the outdoor security lights on and off as they passed.

LUNA came up to greet them. She's a vampire M.D. currently working with Doctor Franklin and the Bureau. Tomas used to have a thing for her. Sarah knows it. Caused a big cat fight. That's why they were originally banished from the Penn Museum. {remember...this is an on-going account of life among the not-quite-dead and has been running for almost 700 nights} . Oh, he still 'admired' her...the polished dark blond bun...the classic features.... the willowy build. But the nights of playing dusty 'vaquero' and lusty cantina girl were over. Yeah, yeah, yeah, we know he cheats (remember the Mole 'Ladies"?) Yet even hard, trim, 'young' vampirinos must practice discretion sometimes......... He did brush a tiny bit of lint from the breast pocket of her crisp, white lab coat. And she smiled, ever so slightly. Sarah just bit her lip. Papa quietly chuckled to himself, as they entered the stainless steel elevator for the quick, fast ride to the bottom. 

And CONRAD'S eyes were wide as saucers, for the menagerie of fantastical beasts (and beings) is definitely something to see. (I will provide details tomorrow night.) 

The JERSEY DEVIL whinnied, flapped his huge, leathery wings and raised a bottle of Guiness in salute.

Two repulsively hairy TROLLS occupied the next dimly illuminated chamber. But they just blinked and continued chomping away on the contents of their fresh-dead-cat basket........ Annie especially liked that part. 

Then they saw it, an artificially created moonlit grotto, sealed behind two inches of distortion-free glass. Semi-tropical foliage rose up from the 'shoreline' and shimmering 'rafts' of bio-luminescent plankton rode upon the tiny wavelets.

Conrad said - This where that mermaid lives?..... Luna nodded. The others stood silently, as twelve heartbeats later the head of a pouchy-faced old crone broke the surface and cackled at them. Tomas politely waved. The crone said something in her own language, which sounded like nothing so much as fish kisses, or wet, geriatric farts. A moment later  she hoisted her bloated, sagging, decrepit form up onto a rock and played with her yarmulke sized nipples.

The VAMPIRES watched transfixed......even Papa. And no one noticed as the wispy-haired old reprobate (wearing his signature, shamrock green, Philadelphia Eagles sweat suit.) tooled in to join them upon his latest (and best) electric scooter.

Though it seemed Doctor Franklin had something important to say.......


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Tuesday, June 19, 2012


Trouble posting. Digital Devils attempting to silence. Not like a virus. More like a fungus, or slow, creeping tooth decay. BUT we persevere. 

Edith came back from the Pines. Oh, some days she'd drive in for a few visit, or to get things done. But the TV WEATHER LADY said we're all gonna sweat and sting for the next few days, so she came back. Mister Edith is here two.... a rarity. But them 'RED PAINT' folks didn't come.... You know, the ones where all the females look like PEEKABO STREET and all the males favor CAPTAIN JEAN LUC PICARD of The Star Ship Enterprise? Heat don't bother them. They just sit real still and keep they eyes closed. 

Tomas gettin' religion again. but he not lookin' to save the whole world, like last time (remember that parallel, alien-filled universe and the good diner orbitin' 'round Saturn?) He just wanna see his mama and papa. Thinks some guardian angel gonna help him do it. Edith tryin' to contact Johannan, his old, gruesomely killed body servant. But so far all she got is the kid who played LASSIE'S human brother on old, black and white TV. And I don't even think he's dead yet.

Tomas lookin' up shit in his copy of LA CIENCIA VAMPIRISMO. Edith brung it back from the Pines. He prayin' and readin'. Got an old 'victrola' recording of Jan Pierce's Kol Nidre, the old Hebrew liturgy of human confession and Divine Forgiveness. Plays it over and over. Sits on the floor huggin' hisself and whisperin' whole bunch a Aramaic secrets.

They all in Baylah's apartment. You know, the place she got upstairs from the piano bar. Sarah jus' set there sniffin' in a big, ole aroma candle. Usually she like green apple. Most vampires do, you know. But now she got one called 'fire cracker cherry.' Must a seen it on ELLEN, or somethin'. 

BAYLAH got a guy comin' up soon to show her 'swatches.' She wanna buy a new Natuzzi leather sofa. So they all gotta have to leave soon. Cab comin' in a few minutes. Sarah wanna go to Doctor FRANKLIN. His spread is really nice. Papa won't go near them Anti- Enchantment-Bureau goomers. He wanna go tickle some MOLE CHIPPIES. Tomas act like he in a stupor. But L'il Bastid Annie take his boot off ( you know, them leather bootkins he likes?). Pretend she fixin' a bite off one a his toes. That bring him almost all the way out of it. But he really do wanna see his mama...papa too.

SARAH say Mole People probably got them mushrooms (grows 'em underground) what help folks commiserate wit' the dead. See maybe if they work on vampires.

Baylah go 'round helpin' folks put they stuff in boxes. She get 'em from the State Liquor Store. Not for her. For the bar. Now they goin' down the steps. Gonna wait outside for the cab. It like one a them vans.

TOMAS see a homeless guy he know. Sarah say - Why you not give him somethin'?......... She mean like money. But Tomas don't know..... so he give him a real nice Rolex. Snap it right off his wrist and give it to him....... Homeless guy say - What I have to know what time it is for? It time a take a shit. Don't you think I know that?!..... But they already pilin' in the van, so don't nobody actually hear him.

CONRAD holdin' Annie's bestest, most favorite, petrified 'Gyptian baby-mummy. He don't like it, but he do it......

She is his 'mama,' after all....... and even though he don't perspire like he do when he human, he still want her buy him new suit a clean underwear.

Mister NEVER YOU MIND gonna leave you now. Gotta float off and  go see some real nice crack whores I know. Gotta bring 'em salt water taffy and a box a KOTEX.

I do try to help, don't you know...


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Monday, June 18, 2012


Not every night is a barn burner. 'Save the drama for your mama' is more like it. Immortal beings move through time in slow motion. What's a month to them, or even a decade? There's a vampirino in PARIS who's been frequenting the same cafe for two hundred years. Every night he orders the same meal, a Provincal pot-a-feu (pardon my french). The silently judgemental waiters bring it, slam it down upon the table and watch from behind the COFFEE BAR, as 'Mister Midnight' proceeds to cut it up into tiny morsels and feed it to his well mannered, little doggie (a nicely groomed, but absinthe riddled, cross-eyed Pomeranian). I do  not know if he's had the same dog all this time. A talented life-eater could arrange that. But I just do not know.

Papa has taken to public nudity. He wanders the dark, narrow byways 'sans coulottes ' as the CoCo Chanel's and Maurice Chevalier's say. Then, as soon as someone sees him, he flickers out of the ether, only to re-appear someplace else. One local, weekly, urbane publication has begun calling him THE 'MOON' MAN.'  They say he's even on YOU TUBE. Jimmy Kimmel showed a shot the other night, but I missed it.

Annie has been giving 'sonny-boy' ,Conrad, the grand tour. Shows him all the mummies. Takes him to sleep with the polar bears deep within their fake stone, fiberglass, caves. She likes the zoo. Hasn't gotten him to bite off any strange toes yet, but she will. 

Sarah does what she's always done. She heals the poor. Visits hospitals and clinics doling out tiny, glass vials of her restorative blood. Doctors hate her, especially when she helps those with adequate 'fee for service' coverage. Tomas occasionally tags along. After all, she got the idea from him. But our trim, 'young' Spaniard more often than not, enjoys summer evenings spent in the company of his wide-eyed, Mole Girl groupies. He lures the nubile, sweet things up from their below-the subway-tunnels depths for sensual encounters in fine hotels amidst smooth, cool sheets and spa-like showers. Does he bite them? Of course, but not fatally. 'Tastes them' would be more like it.

That's the way it is. The moon comes up. The moon goes down. And night-folk stalk this fine, old town.

Sure, things come to a head, sometimes..... but only sometimes. 

It's a nice way to live...... Well, you know what I mean.....


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Sunday, June 17, 2012


MORE ON ABRAHAM LINCOLN AND THE VAMPIRES LATER. ........ Tomas didn't think much of Conrad. Papa didn't either. None of them did. Still, it was better to have a new team mate than an old adversary. The dogs are a nuisance though. Three people were seriously bitten last night alone. They're lose. They're smart and they're hungry. Two of the chebubs found them loping through Fairmount Park. I guess they were hunting for bums. Lot a places to hide in eight thousand acres.... some caves....old, forgotten shacks. Much of it is old, original growth, woodland...... Dogs treed a bobcat and were trying to drag it down. Some old homeless guy peeked out from the bushes to watch. But the big one, Red Eye, seen him. And you know how predators are when they fixate on something. Forgot about the mini-tiger real fast. Just turned, focused, and moved right in.  Rest of 'em followed. Old guy backs away. Runs into a big oil drum  parks crew was using for liter. Tips it over and climbs under, like a urban hermit crab with a new shell..... Two heartbeats later, dogs is on him, growling and scratching and bangin' into it. He screamin' and trying to hold it down. This goes on for like ten minutes. He 'bout ready to have a hearty-tack.....and then it gets real quiet. No noise. Just his breath echoing 'round in the dank, metal can. That's when the diggin' starts. Pack got him pinned up against a big boulder. He caught like in a little crevice, or something. Can't see nothing. Can't move nowheres. All alone, right in the middle of an almost forest primeval, 'cept it's surrounded by millions of people.

You see, dogs is clever. They can do stuff. They can solve things. They can kill people. You lock a dog inside wit' its dead master and that ass flesh gonna get ripped off real fast. Nothin' personal. No disrespect intended. They just hungry. Dogs is practical. And tunnelin' the way to go. 

Old guy start yellin' - No! No! No! No! No! But this group used to hand signals. They like a good 'snap.' He can yodel all he want. Ain't gone do no good, 'specially after that big one grab hold a his ankle. Start pullin' him out. Leg all scraped up. But that OK.  For dogs.... blood like gravy.

One go for the cheeks. One like the belly. Bitch tear in a his privates. Cherubs try dive bombin' in to scare 'em off, but they jumpin up and snappin' at cherubs too. Fat, little, flyin' vampire baby like a can a peas to them.

'Bout a hundred and forty heartbeats later it all over. He mostly dead. Leg meat gone. Arm meat gone. Guts all permanently ruined. Look like zombie do it. That what the paper say----- ZOMBIE KILLER STALKS FAIRMOUNT PARK.

But Papa and Tomas and Sarah and all the rest know different. 


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psst! GO TO THE POST RIGHT UNDER THIS AND CLICK ON IT --- secrets, spells, naked girls in pits in the sub-basement, fear

I'm dizzy from lack of sleep, but I found a good specimen and tacked it up for you. Even cleaned it up a little too... So please do like the title says ----- go down one space and click on it.


vampire wonderland: DANGEROUS LIFE-EATER SECRETS SHARED ON A QUIET SIN...: They all went out. Papa took Jonathon and Sarah to the Jersey Shore. I guess they're at Baylah's boyfriend's beach house. She runs back and...

Friday, June 15, 2012


Sometimes she start talkin' real fast. And her voice change. She lose that Philadelphia accent and fall back to what she had in Old Mali..... very clipped, real precise. You know how that model, the one who like a hit girl in head wit' telephone sound? .....No, not her. Mister Never-You-Mind is a bit confused. I mean the one what married to Ziggy Stardust. Imam, I think they call her. She talk that way.....Africa talk, nice talk, if you know what the word mean. She still make English words, but she say 'em Old Mali style. That how I know she excited. 

Abraham Lincoln don't kill no vampire. He not even  KNOW vampire til they get him in the White House. That when his wife (she very fat woman...don't you think?) start eatin' ice cream and doin' voo-doo and hula-hula dances. Missionaries bring 'em back from Lahaina, or whatever they call that town they got on the Big Island. Mrs. Wife-of-Lincoln wanna talk to little boy. He dead. He STILL dead, but back then he just gettin' used to it. So she make 'spooky' party...lot a spooky party, in a WHITE HOUSE. Send soldier to bring back talk-to-dead lady. (lady not dead. she just know how to talk to 'em.) So they all hold hands and go 'wooo-wooo-wooo,' like they moanin', or gettin' tickled the wrong way. President lock a door. He not want president-helpers to think he crazy.

Little dead boy (he president's son) don't come back. Talk-to-dead lady say he must be busy. Mrs. Wife-of-Lincoln find this extremely hard to believe, 'cause he always very, very lazy boy. So she say - Hey, what are you, a crook?.............Talk-to-Dead lady say - I no crook! You jus' wanna make trouble....... President Lincoln jus' sit there. He doan say nuthin', 'cause them what do for him already think he got bubbles in the think-tank.

White House maid bring in cool drink. Prob'ly Kool-Aid. Not 'cause she so worried people thirsty and all. She jus' wanna see what goin' on. President say - We got any pineapple? She say - No, jus' cherry...... He drink it anyway. He drink a lot a beer too. Once he peed on a floor a the Lincoln Bedroom. But room not so famous then, so it mostly OK.

Never actually meet vampire that first time. Saw one walk past open door, but never talk to him. 

Next time he do talk to him. That the beginning....... You gotta keep an open mind.

Still got vampire runnin' 'round that White House. Still doin' it today. 

You gotta keep an open mind. Come-sea. Come sah...

Man, how 'bout that God damn asteroid almost hit us and all?....... What the president goan do bout that?????


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Thursday, June 14, 2012


They finally all  got together at the museum. Not the Penn Museum, the Mutter Museum. Vampires seem to like the macabre, nineteenth century atmosphere, deformed, salt-cured heads in thick, glass, jar-like vessels, frightening, antique surgical devices, creaking wooden floors. They say, at one time two vampire brothers actually worked as night watchmen at the place. The story has it they were originally conjoined twins, converted to the 'night shift' as a 'two-fer' . One came willing. The other was a draftee. Chewed through the gristle connecting them soon as the fangs came in. But they're not part of this narrative. You gotta read the screenplay for that.

Baylah found a few old, rickety, wooden folding chairs in some storage closet and put 'em up in a little circle. At one time, they used to meet up there a lot. There's a spot on the mezzanine, right by the Chaing and Eng exhibit.... a life cast taken from the naked bodies of the original 'Siamese Twins.' Got a preserved specimen of a rubbery, two headed, pickled, white baby up there too. Kinda look like the Olsen Twins.

Guys they got watchin' the place now know they all vampires. But they get paid off, so it's all right. Tomas there, Sarah, even Annie and Papa. Elves don't come. They do their own thing. The new one, Annie's little baby, Conrad, there too. He settin' right in the middle.

Nobody say nothin'. Just go up one at a time and sniff him up real good. Vampires does that when they want a find out shit. Or they can lick a face. Sometimes they does that too. Later, when and if they all become 'family,' there might be a little mutual blood tastin's, but not tonight. 

Papa just sit there makin' like he readin' People Magazine. All of a sudden he so interested in Kate Middleton, don't you know. Annie crackin' her gum and shakin' her knees up and down. She real proud a herself. Think she a 'mommy' now. Wanna know if she get a give him a different name. Wanna call him 'Stackhouse,' or 'Barry.' Conrad, her new, (though he probably 'bout thirty) baby, don't say nuthin'. He just make like he real interested in a three-eyed-Pocahontas lookin' out from a big, ole head a American Indian gal in an old fifty's space helmet, what left the rest a her body at home.

Jonathon (I mean Tomas) wanna ast him 'bout 'The Brotherhood,'.....wanna know all about them Saint Shamus people and all. But Sarah say that not polite, seein' as he is most likely all discombobulated what with crossin' over into Vampire Town and all. So they just sits there waiting for Stackhouse, I mean Conrad to say somethin'. 

Baylah light a new aroma candle and put it down on the floor. Watchman guy run over an' slip a little plate under it. He fussy, but he OK. Vampires like a good aroma candle. They like candy. Sometime they sit around holdin' a bitty one like it tomato juice, or somethin'.

Papa look up at the ceiling. He yawn. After 28,ooo years, he STILL ain't got 'nuf sleep. Annie lean over. She pinch Conrad. She pinch him real hard...right in the butt. He jus' give her a look and scootch over a little. 

You know how kids is when you want 'em to show off.

So Baylah ast if anybody hear bout ABRAHAM LINCOLN~VAMPIRE KILLER..... But nobody say nothin,' so she say she gonna tell 'em the real story.

Come back tomorrow and I tell you what she said.

Tomas mumble somethin' in Spanish, but I don't know no Ricky Ricardo talk. Mister Never-You-Mind jus' know English, plus a little bit a New Orleans patois. 


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Wednesday, June 13, 2012

VAMPIRES, CHERUBS and ELVES..Oh MY!~~~ some more nighttime magic in revealed

Annie and Conrad (the former, not-quite monk) checked out of the hotel on JFK Boulevard 'vampire style.' That means they sublimated through the wall of the lobby without paying the bill. He couldn't sublimate yet, but she could. So they did this thing where he hugs onto her real tight and gets wrapped up in the energy emitted by her body. Then they sublimated into some sporting goods store and stole new sneakers. Annie likes Nike for kids. Conrad prefers 'Chuckies.' ---- monastic simplicity and all that. After, they sorta kinda killed a schizophrenic wino, 'cause he won't give 'em no little taste. Vampires can tolerate alcohol, don't you know. Annie claims the blood of diabetics tastes syrupy. She says there's all kinds a blood...pissy blood, beefy blood, asparagus blood, milk blood, shitty blood and fishy blood. More too, but I forget the rest. 

Conrad says he's starting to hear voices. Annie tells him it's just the others. They can probably pick him up now and want to feel him out. Everything is so different in Philadelphia now. For a long time there was just Tomas, or Jonathon, or whatever you want to call him and Baylah. That lasted for like two hundred and forty years. Bob came along in the nineteen twenties, but he's dead. Luna stays with Doctor Franklin, so she don't count and Blackie and Minnie mostly keep to themselves. 

Vampires are by nature very non-confrontational. They're quiet. They hide. They fit in. It's only in fiction, like on TV and all, that they have them nostril flaring battles and cat fights. You saw how Annie handled things? You saw what she did to Conrad. She converted him. Gave him a taste (not of the blood...of the magic). Got him hooked and reeled him in. That's what usually happens. Van Helsing my eye. All Dracula gotta do is dip him in some magic, some REAL MAGIC, I mean, and that dude not gonna be so eager to mutilate corpses. Well, 'almost' corpses, I mean. You know... vampires.

Please know I'm talking 'bout 'our kind' a life-eater. Them 'noxious' bastids is something else. And excuse me for leaving out the elves and cherubs. But I don't like to speak for them. Remember what we told you last night... about magic and all? Well, I'm gonna tell you some more.

Magic is energy...sentient energy. It's got a mind. It can think. It can feel things. I don't know who started it. I don't know where it came from. Don't go asking me that. But it's there and it's real. 

Powerful vampires are the ones who can talk to it. They purr. They ask it things. That's how Papa gets it to string people up over the roiling surface of the sun. Annie too. She gets it from him. He is her 'daddy' after all.

You may be able to do a little bit of this. Let me give you an example. Ever walk by a street light that goes dark? Ever have a furry, little, golden honey bee hover right in front a your face,  just like it trying to tell you something? Ever scared like you ain't gonna make it inside to pee... like you're gonna wet yourself, but then at the last second you ain't gotta take no leak no more?...... Well, that's magic.... Little stuff...Mortal stuff, but still magic. Some people, like witches, or political power brokers get good at it. But mostly it sticks to unusual folk, like vampires, or butterfly-vixens, or them fishy-tailed people, or elves and all. Some other types too. But I don't wanna get into them. 

It gonna get light soon. Did I ever tell you how vampires hate these short, summer nights? No, wait a minute. I think I did. She gotta find him where to sleep. Conrad, I mean.  Annie wanna be on her own now. She wanna be her own boss. Papa know. He indulgin' her. 

Bet she gonna take him to The Penn Museum. Bet they gonna fly over to Thirty Third Street. She best friends wit' them old, waxy, dried up mummies. Some got ghosts livin' in they bellies. They whisper. They giggle. Annie like that. She don't get them Coptic words, but vampire don't gotta. You see, truth is something else.....

It rained again tonight. Streets is real wet and shiny. folks is all up inside they whoop-dee-doo co-ops and condominiums. They sleepin'..... mostly. They snorin'. They fartin'. They droolin' all over them forty eight dollar, fancy, sea isle cotton pillow slips. Few just died a strokes, or some other kind a shit. Some is watchin' info-mercials. Some be playin' nasty. Don't nobody even guess that down on the street a stringy haired, little white girl and a skinny guy all dressed in black be two 'juvenated, walking corpses. don't nobody even care. 

Couple doormen see 'em go by. But doormen see a lot a things...


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