Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: TRADING OTHER PEOPLES LINKS TO RAISE PAGE RANK FOR...

Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: TRADING OTHER PEOPLES LINKS TO RAISE PAGE RANK FOR...: Our narrative story continues later tonight. This is something else. I happened to see a post that said sharing easily clickable links to o... OK, we're putting up the assorted LINK LIST before our next post. If you want your link on the list, tweet it to us now and it'll go up. This HAS helped some people draw traffic and (potentially) inch up in Google Page Rank. Click on where is says TRADING OTHER PEOPLES' LINKS up above to see who's up now. Thank you. If you want, click on Twitter.com/wilkravitz and tweet your link right now. 

המוסיקה היהודית האנדלוסית يهود الأندلس Jewish Sephardic music 500 year old SPANISH SONGS THAT TOMAS REMEMBERS ... 9/30/14

He left Marianne's dark refuge and went abroad in the world. Certain streets were clean and orderly, cleared of refuse and undesirables by the warlords, so they and their clients might have respite from the madness. Influential oligarchs strolled through with their retinues. Well dressed ladies, some wives, some demi-wives drank rare and costly coffees at sidewalk cafes. Fire jugglers and conjurers regaled crowds at intersections. Electronic entertainment, save for sporadic, scratchy radio broadcasts, did not exist anymore, so they played out on the streets for lesser grades of fame.



Tomas breathed it all in, savoring the menu available to him that night. How like the mercados and souks of his boyhood in Old Al Andalus. And in his soul he heard the music of that place, ancient cantorials and Sephardic love songs, sung 'round fires in courtyards and caravanserai. He went into a small establishment, a perfumery in what used to be a chocolate shop. In a way, to a scent intoxicated vampire, it still was. The woman behind the counter, an olive skinned

beauty, bewitched him. Not that she meant to, but her form and mien was so like the ladies he remembered from his youth. She smiled, sold him sandalwood and laughed. He politely bowed his head, forever the well bred, Spanish courtier and paid her in the accepted currency of these times, cut up bits of silver from salvaged tableware.... one teaspoon bowl and a fork tine. Then he put the small bottle, once home to aspirin, in his pocket and left, but he came back later, just before dawn, and took her as she tidied up. A scared, girl, her daughter, watched through a barely opened store room door. Tomas pitied her, all alone in such a place, so he took her too. Then he sauntered off to rest among the crypts and bone safes of the great Laurel Hill Cemetery. 



Like a passenger in a speeding train, he was. Like a slave, deep within the hold of a rancid, creaking ship... along for the ride, though unable to change the course. And in a sense this saved him, absolved him of all guilt. He had no choice. He was compelled. Any resistance would be futile. Besides, it all tasted so damned good and there was so much of it. 



Not my fault - he told himself. This new body makes me do it. The morals and the appetites and the 'need' are not natural to me..... Maybe he was right? And maybe he wasn't. 



But he had an excuse... And an excuse is a dangerous thing for a vampire to have.



Now if you'd like to peek into his mind and share his memories, listen to the music up above, sung in medieval, Ladino, an old Sephardic Castillian dialect.



Memories can be quite overpowering...



<more next time>



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VAMPIRINO TOMAS encounters his friend the ELFERINA MARIANNE .. 9/27/14

She took him to this place, a cellar, or maybe a deeper, second cellar like they used to have generations ago. He sat down on an old bean bag chair. It was ripped, but most of the beans were still in the bag. Place didn't have any electric hook up. Regular electrical service didn't exist anymore. Some had generator. Stealing generators was a big thing. 'Motor hopping,' they called it. But Marianne didn't even have that. She made due with a few cartons of batteries in assorted sizes and a whole mess of battery powered candles. Flickering light... She had flickering light and an old 'camp' radio that also used batteries. You could crank it up too. But that didn't really work.

Then she collapsed onto a broken up, dirty mattress and rattled away in Flemish, or Walloon French, or whatever it was. Tomas put his hand up and said,'I know you don't know Spanish and your Vahmperigo (Mediterranean, Romance, vampire dialect) is abysmal, so stick to English. OK?

The animated, elferina bit into the back of her hand, sucking up the blood... a vampire 'cutter,' if you will... took a few deep breaths and began again... 'When did you wake up?' she said.... He didn't answer. Marianne didn't care. Tomas didn't have to answer. He knew what she meant. She could tell. 

'You know I killed an eight year old little boy tonight?' she said. The mother tried to make it real nice for them. Just him and her. Just the two of them. Covered everything up with sheets. Tucked them in real tight. Pinned them in place and all. Don't know where the flowers came from. Maybe they were weeds that looked like flowers. He had board games and army guys. High up in an attic they were. Thought it was safe. The people in her building grow potatoes in the back yard. Well, now there's one less mouth to feed. Got him while he slept. The mother was sleeping too. She never knew. Twelve feet away and she never knew. Stink woke her up. Smelled the blue flames. Saw him burning and saw me standing there. Started screaming. Threw herself right on top of him. But she can't put him out. Blue flame's not like that. Keeps coming back til he's gone. Like trick birthday candles. You know what I mean? (eyes him) Who cares if you know what I mean... (eyes him again) So, you are not crazy anymore. How many years were you like that? Since you came here?

He just plays with a little mouse crawling through her crap.

'Albion (a male elferino) says we should kill you. But I say you are too powerful. Only now I'm not so sure. You got all your talents back, but something is  not right. They say the body is switchboard to the soul and you have a different switchboard. One eye goes twitch-twitch-twitch. I can see. You got to kill. You got to drink. You know that?

He nodded. After more than two hundred and fifty years she still had that accent... like the girl in AFTER MIDNIGHT. Tomas liked that.... Now it's not like vampires don't have to be careful in this new, almost apocalyptic landscape. They do. Warlords run everything. Oh, the National Government still exists, but at street level it's all the warlords. Washington just takes a cut and keeps the foreign low lifes away. Most vampires have been domesticated. They help the warlords... enforcers and all. Afraid of The Lead House. You go by there late at night, hell anytime, you'll hear them screaming... vibrates right through the metal.

Rogue vampires, like the elferinos and Tomas and whoever else is out there have to watch themselves. Sleep somewhere else every day. Marianne has maybe twelve 'nests.' Tomas gotta start finding twigs.

She let him spend the day there. But he couldn't sleep much... too self conscious 'bout that eye twitch and all. You know how vain that Tomas is.

Kept petting that little mouse. Blew on its fur. Poor thing died of fright, but he just kept petting it...

<more next time>

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Philip Glass - The Kiss (HD) ... como suenos de vampiros locos... Tomas in THE CITY... 9/26/14

They assembled in an old auditorium. I believe it was once  the Theater of The Living Arts, on South Street, where they used to have midnight showings of cult films, like Rocky Horror. But 'Apres Le Deluge,' with the death of civilization and all, the place was definitely not what it was. Though it retained a certain tattered ambiance, like a ruined manor house in Dickens. 



There was a stake on the stage... a thick, tall, upright log, minus the bed of kindling usually found 'round the base, since an open flame in these surroundings was a no-no. Though a ritual of death would take place just the same.  And the witnesses quietly mumbled to each other waiting for it to start.



Tomas slid in, taking a seat near the back. Just another almost-post-apocalyptic hipster abroad in the town. His hair was long, black and wavy and the requisite fine, soft, black, leather bootkins were also in evidence. The man in black was back. And in this second body, gleaned from a twenty eight year old victim, he had a certain worldly air missing from the eighteen year old original. But everything else was the same. They really searched hard for a duplicate.



The lights, already low, grey and smoky, fluttered and dimmed. Everyone stopped talking, a monotone congregation (black was the new black) waiting for the spectacle to begin..... 



Seconds later, a chamber ensemble in the pit began to play... something by Philip Glass. I believe we have an illustrative video up above. Then they brought her out, a naked, young woman. How white she looked in the pin lights from above, an alabaster statue with long, dark, glossy hair. I believe she was drugged. 'Snake bite,' they called it. Her attendants, dressed as nuns, or some type of female, medieval pilgrims, bound her to the rough, wood pillar with grey duct tape. Then they bowed their heads and hurried off. That's when the real fun began. 



I don't know where they got them. Philadelphia's 'cherubs' were never like that. Benign, innocent things they were. But these were different, twisted, vampire babies, with keen, sharp appetites and dark shining eyes.  They flew onto stage, darting about like insects. Beautiful things, resembling Renaissance angels, or juvenile godlings. 



The naked girl flinched. She knew their purpose. Warlords and street bosses had used them before. Brought in from Europe, people said, or from remote fincas along the Amazon. How feral and determined they were, armed with sharp-tipped, whip-like tongues, since at the time of their transformation they were much too young for teeth. Like hornets they were, diving in, taking a drink and zipping off, only to circle back and do it again. The girl screamed. An eye was gone... an ear... a nipple. She oozed and dripped blood like a fountain. With each pass the pace quickened. She writhed and strained against her bindings. A few in the audience groaned in sympathy, but only a few.  Tomas watched, transfixed by it all. Soon bone began to appear... on the knees... the scalp... the clavicles. Not that the tiny vampirinas craved flesh, but they had to rip through it to free the blood.And the boards became covered in gore and meat. Some sat with eyes closed, listening to the music.



Tomas watched til just before the end. He left when the ribs were exposed, returning to the street in order to search out his own food. Gone the reverent rationalizations of his former self. Now he was insane, if that's even the right word. Perhaps vampire nature is hard to fight? Perhaps after all those years it just asserts itself? 



He killed two victims before midnight. What did they mean to him? Such transient, short lived creatures they were. My God, in five hundred years even their distant descendants would be gone. Like flash paper they were.



After midnight he killed some more.



Marianne, the pubescent, elferina, saw him. She saw him take a victim in a narrow, alley-like thoroughfare in Queen's Village. And she watched his blank expression in the glow from the cool, blue flames, as the corpse he'd just drained disappeared.



Then she silently approached and put her hand on his shoulder. He turned. She smiled. Tomas smiled too.



But these were evil smiles, for these were evil times.



She led him 'round the corner and all was quiet.



When the flames were gone some crows came down to pick at all the scraps.



<more next time>



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Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: TRADING OTHER PEOPLES LINKS TO RAISE PAGE RANK FOR...

Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: TRADING OTHER PEOPLES LINKS TO RAISE PAGE RANK FOR...: Our narrative story continues later tonight. This is something else. I happened to see a post that said sharing easily clickable links to o... HERE IT IS! easy way to spread links around the internet and, as a result, your link too. Quickest way is to hit that little BLOGGER.COM icon at the bottom of your blog posts (if you have it and are on BLOGGER). 



Or just browse the list and chose some you like. Start including them on your sites. At bottom of posts you might say - Here are some other people you might like...



If you have your own sites and would like to be listed here, please tweet me on twitter. Just click TWITTER and tweet the link/links you want featured. Might take a couple nights but they'll go up. 



Links are not in alphabetical order BUT any one link CAN be SEARCHED and found immediately.



When your link/links start appearing all over the web, your PAGE RANK rises. That means if you write about food/recipes and somebody Googles food or recipes, YOUR link/links appears near the top of the list, NOT dozens of pages down.



And PLEASE...all these big red letters aren't the post. You have to click on where it says 'Trading other people's links to raise page ranks' up at the top of all this to go there.



Try it. Might work for you. 



I'm not an expert, but I HAVE discovered certain things. This seems to work. Google Vampire Wonderland by Billy Kravitz, you'll see.



If YOU have any good promo ideas, spread them around. share on Twitter. A rising tide raises all boats.



Sincere thanks,



Billy

Twitter.com/wilkravitz

browse.feedreader.com/c/Billy_Kravitz_vampire_wonderland

remember, GET YOUR LINKS UP THERE!

VAMPIRES AND THE AUTUMNAL EQUINOX ... 9/24/14

He found an old harmonica... a toy really, crumpled up in a faded plastic sack, all mixed up with the remnants of a little boy's lunch... ball of tin foil... old juice box. Kids used to come here on school trips. Guide took them through the more or less 'explored' and opened part of The Pines. Showed them snapping turtles, frogs, beaver dams. Kid probably bought the harmonica at some souvenir-snack bar. Then he lost it. Now a vampire has it.

Tomas found the snack bar.... a dried up fake cabin with rustic toilets. No food now, 'cept maybe for the termites.  He went in and stretched out on one of the tables, a regular picnic table. You know, with attached benches and all. Moonbeams tickled their way in through desiccated shingles. Tomas liked the moon. Moon like a god to some vampires. Yeah, they got the religions they were born with, but moon's special... the sun for the sunless. Guess second hand, reflected light don't count.

He held the harmonica over his face, examining it like an artifact. Made him think about music. Tomas (also known as Jonathon) likes music. Remembers it from his boyhood in Al Andaluz. Played the oud back then... guitar too. If you gave him one he'd still know what to do with it. But the way things are now, who's gonna give him one? ... Civilization is on a vacation. You remember how it is in the city. You know.

Then he blew in it. Reeds still worked. 'Mouth organs' are simple. You can't ruin them. Found the scale. That's not hard to do. Sure, not the Judeo-Arab scale he knew from centuries ago. But, you have to remember, he's lived in 'the west' a long time too. Played 'Teddy Bears' Picnic.' That was his theme song. Used to quietly whistle it when he prowled the streets looking for prey on cold winter nights. 

Vampires like the winter. Nights are long. Sixteen hours of darkness. So many shadows to explore. So many lives to devour. Some never saw him coming. But he had this thing he'd do... fall in behind a victim, maybe ten or fifteen yards behind. He'd match his steps to theirs. Then, after a bit, to up the ante, he'd whistle --- When you go out in the woods tonight, you're in for a big surprise.

They'd stop and turn around. Maybe some mortals like the darktime too? Some would look, see him there, a stylish 'eighteen' year old boy and go on their way. If he felt like it, he let them live. But only if he felt like it. Lots of places to kill a person in the city. Philadelphia had these park-like squares... Washington Square... Rittenhouse Square... Fitler Square... trees, bushes, benches, small fountains, statues.  Tomas liked doing it near the goat, a stalwart, life size bronze, billy goat. I don't know why. He just did. Some deserved to be 'culled.' That was his word for it. Tomas tried to be a responsible vampire. And most of the time he was. But sometimes he'd forget... Bite through the trachea, scoop out the voice box. They'd go into shock, but they were still alive. How wide-eyed and trembling they'd be. He loved that. Like kittens about to be drowned. Sometimes he'd eat the eyes... suck them right out of the sockets. Optic nerves were a bit grisly, but night-folk teeth are sharp. Quite a watch collection he had too... gold ones... diamond bezels. Who knows where they are today.

Tomas puts down the harmonica, thinks about those nights and smiles. The first full night of fall this is... the autumnal equinox.... aahhhh.

How nice to be deranged. Maybe latter the pain would come. Maybe later he'd realize. But now he didn't care, or at least he pretended he didn't care. That's almost as good. Civilization is on vacation and he is too.

So he got up, left that desiccated ersatz cabin and made for the city. 

Vampires always know the way. 

What a hunting ground the ruined, or almost ruined Philadelphia would be. A free agent. Lord Death... Like Charon on The River Styx, ferrying souls from this world to the next...

Too bad you don't have eyes in back of your head.
Too bad you can't see him coming.

Well, too bad for you...

And he whistled his special song, as he soundlessly made his way through the night.

<the tale goes on>

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NIGHT WRAITH ........ 9/22/14

He never went back. But Edith knew. She knows lots of things. She feels the sky and tastes the ether. And she made sure the books, La Ciencia Vampirismo and The Journal , were safe, hidden deep within The Pines, wrapped in an old suede hide made from human skin.

Vampires don't need much. Cold can't kill them. Microbes dine elsewhere. Any weapons they might use are, shall we say, built in. And darkness is easy  to find. There's always a cave, or cellar, or trash heap, or something. Tomas never lived that way before, but now he don't care.  Ain't no big thing.  'Papa' made sure of that.

So he walked and he killed. No, 'killed' is to clean a word. He destroyed. He ripped. He devoured. 

Found a couple holed up in a little shack. Refugees from the city. Had a truck, or what was left of a truck. Had some tuna fish too. Those cans are gold in town. People trade them like bullion. But guy was a real dope... lowlife too. Combination's lethal. So Tomas crouched down, peered through a window and waited for the show to start.

Dope says - You shit, bitch, pig you, grabbed your f%$kin' makeup, but couldn't take no goddamn can opener!?... Girl goes - I didn't know! I didn't know. I thought you had one...... Dope slaps her. She cries... Dope goes - Shut the hell up, you goddamn lazy whore, you!... She cries some more and sobs - I wanna go back! Take me back! I mean it! I mean it!.... Dope looks for a rock and mumbles - Screw you.... Sees one in the dirt next to the ruins of a fireplace. Hefts it. Runs his dirty hand all over it, looking for an edge. Starts pounding that can of chunk light albacore like a baboon cracking clams. Only it don't work. Can dents. Lid bends, but won't break open. Metal too soft. But she got stuff. He knows it... in her makeup kit. He grabs it off the table. Rips it open. Girl goes - No! No! That's the only nice thing I got. The only thing. Look what you did, you goddamn, ape bastid. Look what you did. (sobs) My sister gimme that from Canada.......

But he don't care. There's a file in there, like a nail file, a metal thing. Got a point. He takes it  and starts punchin' holes in the lid... POW! POW! POW! POW! POW!... Water flies out, tuna fish water. Smell makes him crazy. Tiny, little flies start conin' 'round. Girl sobs some more. She looks, but she don't do nothing. He finds her scissors. Hairdresser scissors they are. Barber scissors. Do-it-yourself times now, even haircuts. He gives her a look. She wants to say something. He knows it. But she don't. So he jams a point through one of the file slits and starts cutting. Takes time. Gets a blister. She just sits there. But he can see. Sees her eyes in the light from that Sterno can. Used to be only homeless bastids and mole people used Sterno cans. Now everybody got 'em. Like tattoos or scabies. 

Gets it open. Sloppy job, like a jagged football shaped gash. Looks like can's makin' a face. Digs a finger in. Gets some fish. Eats it. Takes some more, only this time he cuts himself real bad. Yells 'SHIT!'.... Wings the can. Hits her right on the side of her head. Now she's bleeding too. Hand flies up. She feels the blood and starts crying.

Dope goes - Shut your f$#kin' mouth before I shut it for you, you goddamn bitch!... But she curls up on the dead, mildew sofa and cries some more. So he gets up from the table, goes over and smacks her... real hard... more like a punch... She don't make a sound, just folds up real tight. He hits her again. She's helpless. She takes it.

And that's when he does it. That's when he jumps in. Tomas flies through the window. Glass explodes everywhere. Sash breaks. Shade snaps up. Vampire grabs that dope and SLAMS him into the wall. Dope jumps up (he's a fighter), grabs the scissors and goes for him, like he don't know what he's up against. Look, maybe he does, but what else can he do?

Tomas gets him by the wrist and crushes it. Sounds like gravel. Little crackin' and poppin' noises. Dope moans. Girl don't say nothing. Just looks. And she sees it all when he takes the rough, jagged lid from the tuna can, pins the lowlife to the wall and saws off one whole cheek.... just where the gums meet the flesh. Makes like a little, boneless, breast of chicken, it does. After the other side, makes two breasts.... Blood pours from the wounds, as he slumps to the floor. Tomas kneels before him, cradles what's left of the ruined face and goes in for the kill... How good it tastes... How rich... How satisfying... How right.

Then he just stays there on his knees, as the dead guy falls in on himself and ignites with a cool, blue flame, like all victims do. Nothing else burns... just the copse, til that's left is an ashy, greasy mess.

The girl makes a noise, like a chirp, or a gasp. Tomas turns 'round, covered in gore..... Girl sniffs and goes - Are you gonna kill me now too?..... But he quietly says - No.

Only later, when she falls asleep, bathed in the glow from the Sterno can,  as much from shock as anything else... he does.

Tomas is crazy now, you know.  What did you expect?

<the tale continues>

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

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TRADING OTHER PEOPLES LINKS TO RAISE PAGE RANK FOR EVERYBODY! ...9/21/14

Our narrative story continues later tonight. This is something else. I happened to see a post that said sharing easily clickable links to other people's sites on our blogs and websites increases Google Page Ranking, a very important variable, for both, provided the other people retweet YOU as well.

Some of these links are to blogs/websites, some are to Twitter. All are interesting. Actually, most that go up tonight will probably be Twitter links, because they're easier to remember and every time I struggle too remember stuff the tips of my ears catch fire. Good party stunt. They laugh. I scream.

OK, here goes. Check them out. Share a few. Hopefully the whole list. If this works, by next week, we all gonna be on Twitter.com/TMZ <~~ and that's the first one.

AHardingBooks.co.uk naughty, crime Brit books by Andrew Harding

freakboyzone.blogspot.com an assortment of cool PICKET FENCES type stuff by John L. Harmon

Twitter.com/italianjewmom wit and wisdom from Lita Ann and she knows everybody

Twitter.com/DarkMoonComic the NEXT BIG THING in graphic novels and comics. You gotta see this

vickiabelson.com Vicki helms one of the most popular media salons (events with celebrity guests) in L.A... Everybody goes. Make contacts.

Twitter.com/mattmerk L.A. and NYC filmmaker with REAL CREDITS!

fineartamerica.com/profiles/curti... look for curtisimages... really cool photographer.. highly collectible.

williamsonbooks.wordpress.com ...popular historical fiction. 19th century America and more.

Twitter.com/seoking1389 maximize your visibility... they know

Twitter.com/BarbsBurntTree all the cozy stuff you like to buy for your house. Barb knows...

frankslechuga.com quantum sci-fi and related fantasy of the highest order. intriguing material...

Twitter.com/sevenpointstar naughty but nice, romance, paranormal and more. lots to see...

Twitter.com/taralconklin lot a good stuff. Tara knows everybody. you should know her ...also look for her at TaraLConklin/tumblr.com, but I don't know why. My PC won't let me put up links to tumblr (they do to Twitter though?)

Twitter.com/fearthecrypt horror fans will want to hook up with this Eli Roth endorsed site, especially creative horror fans

Twitter.com/cryptfamily and what goes for the entry right above this goes for this one two

Twitter.com/inanimateASLT music, comedy, film and more. a secret Lord of The theater. Go and TALK!

Twitter.com/song4mozart knows a lot, into the arts, creative and communicates. Go see~>

Twitter.com/davidquickbooks lots of useful, information packed books helpful to artists and business people. Go interact with him. And check out his site at thewrongplaceatthewrongtime.blogspot.co.uk he REALLY lived this adventure. it HAPPENED. Go see~~>

Twitter.com/grammakaye Ms Kaye is up on everything and very wise too. strike up a conversation!

favstar.fm/users/robotthomas Go see what the WELL KNOWN Rob Thomas has to say. Communicate! Talk back!

Twitter.com/pulmyears musician, commentator, industry journalist & writer...REAL CREDS. Go see~>

Twitter.com/heyitsmejoy writes rock and roll romances and mature YA paranormal, which means ppl of all ages love her stuff.

masqueradecrew.blogspot.com stellar book promotion site. get to know it and maybe use it for yourself too

Twitter.com/kevinhayes1987 Glasgow born author of very well received horror and sci-fi. Explore...go see~~>

Twitter.com/mrbrown7777777  sorry bout small size but value of this great restaurant info (and more) site anything but. Go see. start a conversation. Almost any restaurant...any place!


more links later...




I got others I want to put up too, but can't remember all of them. Gonna go back to Twitter and gather some more. 

PLEASE share a few. If you want to take over the media, you got to.

COMMENT <down below> with your link so we can highlight that too.

This is how 'external link' chains are born... (whispers)... this is how CITIZEN KANE started (I forget his first name)

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to see all our Vampire Wonderland posts click AND IT MOISTURIZES TOO ...

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Thank you. I'm trying and I WILL put up more links. 

HERE'S A PEEK INTO VAMPIRE EVENING FROM A FEW YEARS AGO -- Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: AN INVITATION TO THE DARK TIME PROMENADE

Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: AN INVITATION TO THE DARK TIME PROMENADE: She made no noise. Vampires can do that. It has nothing to do with any type of magic. It's just a physical ability. Dogs may or may not...



Sarah, Tomas' consort, walks the streets of Philadelphia one dark autumn night and meets eccentric people. Didn't have time to post tonight because we did our running commentary of SNL on Twitter... Not just me. We have a little group. Like homemade DISH NATION or TMZ. Next week, the seasonal premiere with Sarah Silverman gonna be bigger. Join me on Twitter at BILLY KRAVITZ (click on it) if you want.



But the 'night stroll' episode we're running now is good. Click on that 'dark time promenade' line up above if you want to see the whole thing. Vampires getting darker, especially TOMAS also known as JONATHON. 



That's it. Already after 3AM here. Thanks for stopping in. Tweet YOUR links on Twitter. I'll retweet them.



And if you want to see more Vampire Wonderland episodes (not ALL vampires) click on this ~>MORE VAMPIRE EPISODES ...

Sincere thanks for your support. ~~~ Billy

VAMPIRINO LEARNS LESSONS FROM AN ESTRANGED 'PAPA'... 9/20/14

EXT - Nighttime in The Pines. JONATHON and PAPA sit on a rock, gazing at clear, full, chalky-white moon. The 'young' vampirino is as he was. His skin is new, smooth and clear. His hair is long, dark and wavy. They've just left the pit, so he's still bare. Ain't too many haberdashers in the woods.

PAPA - Can't stay here, you know. Who would you eat? You know the same prey to predator ratio that holds for lions, applies to us too.

JONATHON (also known as TOMAS) - I know.

PAPA - Well, then what are you going to do?

JONATHON - I'll leave, but I can stay here for a little while...

PAPA - And?

JONATHON - I'll do like I've always done. Once a month is enough for me.

PAPA - You're going to live by that 'cull the wicked. help the worthy live' crap?

JONATHON shrugs.

PAPA - (exhales) 

JONATHON - Why? What were you going to say?

PAPA - It doesn't make a difference, you know. Not what I say, but what you do. My God. From the fall of Byzantium to this night here, is to me like an after noon. They live so fast. They die so soon. Do you think it means anything? Kill all you want. There'll be more. I'm not saying there won't be times when you can't do all that 'God' stuff. But not now. The cities are shit holes. Law means nothing. They have a guillotine set up in what used to be 'Love' Square, in your Philadelphia, I mean. I know, you're going to say they need it now more than ever... And you know what I say?... Who cares?... You go back there and you do that. They'll lock you in 'The Lead House' so fast. no one will save you then.

JONATHON - So, what should I do?

PAPA - (leans close and whispers) Be bad. Just live. Just go and see and touch and eat. You've never really done that. Oh, there've been isolated episodes. I know. But you're a vampire and you've never really done that. And who's going to stop you? 

JONATHON - They have gangs in the city. Most vampires have been 'domesticated.' They work for mortal warlords now. 'Wild' vampires are few and far between and they don't last long. 

PAPA - Your 'elferino' friends seem to last long.

JONATHON - And they still believe, you know. They don't kill indiscriminately. They rarely kill anyone at all.

PAPA - (covers his face with his hands) You see what you want to see. They like you. They get along with you, so they play the game. Let me tell you. They kill children. They kill children. They KILL children. THEY KILL CHILDREN!.... Come on. You know that.

JONATHON just sits there hugging his knees.

PAPA - Grow up. What is it, almost a thousand years? And look at you. I should have left you in that burnt out synagogue. You should have died. You'd be happier dead. Not 'vampire' dead. Not like you were, but truly dead..... I'm going to leave soon, you know. Madam Shang desires my company. She wants me back. You can't imagine what we do. You can't imagine what we see, who we are.  Here they called us Anunnaki. Not me. Not her, but other ones like us. You want God?... Be one.

JONATHON doesn't respond. He looks out over the trees.

PAPA - You don't like the part about the 'elferinos' do you? Your little friends... so pure... so good... so innocent.... Well, that's the way it is..... But now, you must excuse me. I'm off to 'swim with the fishes.' My intelligent, ray-like friends beneath the ice on Europa.

JONATHON wants to say something, but PAPA gestures for silence.

PAPA - Please. Not now. Think about what I've said. I'll be back. I'll look in. We'll talk then.

He gets up, strides down the hill. As he goes he defuses and expands... all the while keeping his natural form (like a 32 or 33 year old Richard Gere. he's been described that way since Vampire Wonderland began)... a huge, ghost-like figure... one hundred feet tall... two hundred feet tall... five hundred feet tall... like a transparent cloud painted by the moon. The trees come up to his knees. Then he raises his arms, ascends toward the stars and disappears. 

JONATHON sits there, alone in the woodland night.

CUT TO - Dawn... The same place...

JONATHON is gone.

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TRANSITIONING VAMPIRE, TOMAS, MEETS THE GIRLS... 9/19/14

SCENE - Deep, cylindrical, raw, earth pit, far back in the cave where the TALKS TO GOD MAN lives.

Minute traces of light from the TALK TO GOD MAN'S hearth find their way down to the bottom, where JONATHON (also known as TOMAS) sits shivering. He whimpers. The surface of his body is red and oozing. His recently shed skin lies in tatters near his feet.

Then he hears voices from up above.... Papa comes over to the edge of the pit.

PAPA - Twins, He got twins.

TALK TO GOD MAN'S VOICE - Identical, not fraternal. Did you tell him that!?

PAPA - No need now, you dumb f%$k!

JONATHON - (weakly) Please, it hurts. It just hurts...

TALK TO GOD MAN drags the girls, bound with duct tape, to the edge. Their eyes are round with fear. One of them wet her daisy dukes. They kick. They squirm.

PAPA shoots them a 'look.' They instantly rise up, collide with the ceiling and crash back down on the floor, motionless and unconscious. 

TALK TO GOD MAN'S VOICE - Don't hurt 'em. They special.

PAPA turns toward the offending individual and snaps his fingers... The TALK TO GOD MAN'S mouth immediately puckers up, shrinking down to a tight, little rosy anus before winking out altogether.

PAPA - (whispers) Hope he's not a mouth breather.

Then he hoists a girl under each arm and sublimates through the air, depositing them down in the pit near Jonathon.

PAPA - (quietly) You know what to do....

Then he quickly vaults up and sits on the edge to watch.

JONATHON tentatively crawls over to the first girl. He begins to sniff her body and taste her skin. She awakens, sees his raw, oozing flesh, devoid of all hair, even eyelashes...  She screams through the duct tape, bucks her whole body, trying to get away. But it's no use. He  breaks the bonds 'round her ankles, pulls off the urine soaked daisy dukes and has his way.

She vomits. It runs out her nose. He pulls off the tape. It explodes from her mouth. PAPA doesn't say a word. In fact he absentmindedly watches a spider crawling across the the rough, shadowy surface up above.... Then he looks down and sighs, as JONATHON rises from the limp, panting girl and moves on to her sister. Her eyelids flutter, as he kisses her neck, breaks the skin and begins to drink.

PAPA  hums Nessun Dorma (vampires love that aria), as the second sister dies and JONATHON'S skin grows back...

TALK TO GOD MAN begins to suffocate. We hear the nasal wheezing.

PAPA looks toward the sound and belches. Soon after, the unbroken expanse of flesh where the shaman's mouth used to be begins to break open... a long, jagged, bloody gash. Then lips suddenly swell out and take shape. The TALK TO GOD MAN gasps and sucks in huge mouthfuls of air. His fingers explore this new portal.

TALKS TO GOD MAN - This ain't my mouth. This a f%$kin' 'lady' mouth!

PAPA glares impatiently. This time all facial openings disappear... the mouth... the nostrils... the eyes... and the ears..

The unfortunate shaman thrashes about, then grows still and dies, as PAPA turns back and watches his 'son' regenerate...

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MANIC VAMPIRES BUST IN ON THE TALKS TO GOD MAN... 9/17/14

SCENE - abandoned, cave-like mine. abode of The Talks To God Man. An energy pulse-like Papa suddenly moves into the space with Jonathon (also known as Tomas) in his arms and solidifies inches from the face of old Piney shaman.

TALKS TO GOD MAN - (drops his pipe and stash) JESUS CHRIST! Who the hell are you! I ain't conjured nobody, you f&%kin' son of a bitch!

PAPA - (drops a catatonic Jonathon) Go to hell, you old bastard. Where's the pit!?

TALKS TO GOD MAN points toward dark passage beyond. PAPA grabs Jonathon's wrist and drags him in.

TALKS TO GOD MAN - (bathed in flickering glow from small fire) Excuse the mess.

INT. THE PIT. A deep, rough, cylindrical excavation, littered with a few rancid corpses, greasy, ashy, residue and old, crumpled up McDonald's wrappers.

From the bottom of this gruesome place, lit by errant photons escaping the far off fire, we see PAPA approach the rim and roll Jonathon over the edge.  He smacks down on the hard packed earth fifteen feet below and moans.

PAPA - Get up. You're alright. That can't hurt you. 

JONATHON coughs, gags, spits up and shakily rises to his feet. He stares up at PAPA.

PAPA - Don't you remember? We did this in Southern France all those centuries ago.

JONATHON sniffs and nods.

PAPA - I'll get you something to drink.

JONATHON watches him retreat. He looks at the rancid corpses and retches. Then he leans against the wall and slides down to the floor.

A few heartbeats pass. He fidgets. He rubs his back against the wall. Then his chest starts to itch. He scratches. It doesn't help. He scratches some more, rakes his nails across his scalp and jumps to his feet, as if devoured by starving, manic, schizophrenic, communist bed bugs. He tears at his clothing, ripping it off and throwing it away. Watery, blood tinged fluid drips from many wounds. He quivers, as a bloody, urine-like arc bursts from his urethra  and paints the nearby wall.

Steam rises from his body. JONATHON gasps for air, as a lose flap of skin rolls down from his forehead. He pulls at it, peeling of a thick, sticky strip passing over an eye (eyelid skin comes off), down a cheek, continuing along his neck, pectoral region, abdomen, groin and leg. He shakes his hand til it comes off. 

PAPA comes back and throws down a box of white wine.

PAPA - Here. Drink this. Red Paint People looted a liquor store. Flayed the owner, only his skin wasn't supposed to come off.

JONATHON pulls off other swatches of skin. You know when you're just beginning to heal after a bad sunburn and the warm, wet, sticky, dead skin just peels off? Well, the noise is like that, only louder... and what comes off is thicker... not just the epidermis, but the dermis, the true skin as well.

PAPA - Come on. Drink some. Lessens the sting when it all comes off. You feeling that yet?

JONATHON struggles to unscrew the top and guzzle it down.

PAPA - (quietly) I guess you are.

JONATHON - (pants) Where are the girls? I remember girls. (grabs his belly). OH GOD! GET THEM! GET THEM! GET THEM!

JONATHON sits down and screams, as his red, raw flesh meets the dirt...

PAPA - Don't sit down!

JONATHON jumps up.

PAPA - Sorry.

JONATHON shivers and weakly moans. Get the girls. Get the girls.

PAPA nods, turns toward where the TALK  TO GOD MAN sits and yells - Yo, crazy hobo... where you got some girls 'round here?!

TALKS TO GOD MAN'S voice - You gonna kill 'em?

PAPA just shrugs, like the way Robert Downey Jr. might shrug.

TALKS TO GOD MAN'S voice - Y-you gonna kill me?

PAPA - No.

TALKS TO GOD MAN'S voice - Hell, yeah! Hot damn! Gimme a minute...

<next time we meet the girls>

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Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: LIFE AFTER BURIAL <~~~ a buried alive tale from our early days...think 19 people saw it back then.. 9/16/14

Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: LIFE AFTER BURIAL: Lorenzo railed in the darkness, smashing his arms against the thick, unforgiving, oak walls. The casket was small , designed for a corpse,...



We had a wide assortment of characters and directions in the early days.. Here's a bit of LORENZO and KADEEMA .. a pair of 'noxious' vampires...rapacious in every way... Please click on that LIFE AFTER BURIAL line up above... This isn't the post, just the link to it... Please click that line and see.



Thank you. 



Back to our tale ( Tomas returns to vampirism a second time) tomorrow.



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See, what happened was I spent too much time on Twitter and then it got too late to post. Plus I get so tired lately... And I'm bummed out 'cause them aliens ain't been back in SO long. And I haven't been off this planet in months.

'PAPA COMES BACK and this song fits~~> 9/15/14 ... James Taylor - Sweet Baby James (Live: BBC - 1970)

I felt the resonance and there was an aroma too. I'm not sure if the smell was truly there. It might have just been in my mind, yet it was so real... a fire, a campfire... more like an ancient hearth, all woodsy and rich. The ghost beyond the pond moved towards me. and I never saw a human like shape. The presence was never more that a softly glowing smear. But it passed over the water. I could see its reflection on the surface. Ponds can be so still. Nothing, no sound save the 

crickets. I was alone in the forest with this thing, but I wasn't afraid. Ghosts never scare me. They are not monsters, simply people who've lost their bodies. Soldiers lose limbs all the time. They just lost a little more.


The shimmering, silvery essence moved toward me. Maybe it would be more accurate to say it expanded til I was within it. That's when I knew who it was. We are more than hands and feet and faces and breath. We are more than those transitory things. I (Tomas) know, for I was dead, or something very much like it. The soul is real. And that's the truth.


The twenty eight thousand year old being who made me was back. 'Papa' had returned. I said it. I said the word. I said - Papa.... Barely a whisper, but he heard it and he said my name too. He said - Jonathon... He always calls me Jonathon, the name I was born with.... And at the sound of it he began to condense. The fog that was his essence drew in like an inhalation. I heard the sigh and he was there, seated on the ground right near me, dressed in soft suede garments such as Indians might have worn, or perhaps a neolithic man from ice age Europe... Well, that's what he was.... a stone age shaman. The powerful ones were all life-eaters. They thought it was an honor. Clansmen and clanswomen near death were 'taken in' by the shaman. Their blood became his blood. In that way they lived on, advising, recommending... a day to day presence. Of course the shaman hid from the sun, so the people worshiped the moon. At least she was their major deity. 'The Fire That Doesn't Burn' she was. And the fact that they who were 'taken in' by the life-eater, after the blood was gone, ignited into a cool, blue flame and rose up to the sky as large, papery ashes proved the truth of it.  The moon was silvery gray because it was covered by the ashes of all gone before. Life-eaters are consumed in a like manner when their time comes. 


In two hundred and seventy centuries 'Papa' had never made another. Jonathon (also known as Tomas) was the first. Thus his blood was very strong and in ten centuries he did many things. But vampires make mistakes. That's why the born-witch, known as Pig Blood Something or Other killed him.


True, he was back as a human. Doctor Franklin and his unique take on science could do that. But he wanted more. The eighteen year old boy who longed for a pure, clean, mortal life missed his powers. Papa knew that. Papa knew almost everything.


So Jonathon (also known as Tomas) looked to the other and said - Where have you been?..... The being inhaled and said - I have been to other places... Jonathon nodded. He knew not to push....But he did whisper - Did Edith call you?... Papa shook his head and said - Shells, bones, incantations mean nothing. Power is power and toys are toys, at least to me and those like me.


Then he said - Come. It must be done..... So there under a cool, September moon, deep in The Pine Barrens, Jonathon regained the power and became what he was. Papa drank from his wrist and he drank from Papa's. Though the ageless shaman drank first, for the mortal link must be drained nearly dry for the magic (if it is magic) to work. And the circle was unbroken for four thousand heartbeats. That which was lost was restored. Jonathon was mortal no more...


Though he still had to go through the shedding of his  skin. He still had to go through 'first food.' And before each and every cell of his body was transformed, he could couple with a living woman and create a human line.... if that was his desire.


Then he got up and went with Papa to a cave used by a Piney shaman of sorts... to the place where the 'Talks To God' man lives. That's where he'd wait. That's where it would happen.


And in the hours before dawn the People of The Pines, including The Red Paint families, knew a vampire had been born among them. Those strange creatures known as Jersey Devils knew too. Perhaps it was telepathy, or the cricket song? Who cared?


The Pines knows many things


<more next time>


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