Saturday, February 28, 2015


Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: DOCTOR FRANKLIN'S COMPOUND UNDER THE PHILADELPHIA ...: The Anti-Enchantment Bureau is in utter pandemonium. The Delaware River is expected to reach unprecedented levels. The underground compound...

This was written 28 months ago, just as HURRICANE SANDY roared into the Philadelphia/South Jersey area. Some coastal towns were flattened, Miraculously, the ones mentioned in our tale were not. Oh, minor damage... a low lying laundry room here... a flooded garage there. the eye passed right over, thus the relative calm. And soon after, the storm unraveled... There are those who say certain benevolent paranormal adepts caused that. Who knows? Que sera, sera.

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Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: A VAMPIRE TESTS THE BOUNDARY BETWEEN MAGIC AND SCI...

Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: A VAMPIRE TESTS THE BOUNDARY BETWEEN MAGIC AND SCI...: Long before the advent of the atomic age, musicians searched for 'the lost chord,' an elusive example of pure harmonics believed to...

To late to blog. Was doing the #ff over on Twitter all night. So here we have something from our commodious vaults you might like . And the science behind it is true.

This is the second one we post tonight. Hope you read the boaf a them.

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Friday, February 27, 2015


Zebulon, the disembodied spirit, narrates, as he's done so many times before----

Billy slept on. Apparently the entity was having problems. It's not always easy settling into a new physical body, especially if the body in question stems from an entirely different genome. Doctor Franklin told us that. Jonathon called him. Who else did we have? Look, he already knew all about it. It's not like his Bureau doesn't watch this place round the clock. I know they get images from some kind of space probe. You know how real estate sites on line can focus all the way down to bird droppings on your car? Well, so can they. They have this device to detect and read gaseous emissions too. Can tell what's in here... who's in here and what (or who) they had for lunch. Saw the entity enter the house. Not the actual energy field, if that's the right word for it, but the battered Groucho Marx, Madame Tussaud's wax figure it inhabited. They're talking about that now.....

Edith lit a couple aroma candles in the den. Place didn't have any green apple, so she got spring meadow. Figured winter's lasted long enough. And you know how vampires are about aromas. didn't say anything, so I suppose it was alright. Fireplace was on. The good vodka was out. Doctor Franklin asked for Doritos. Three hundred and eight year old, harmonically preserved patriots have skewed tastes. That's just how it is. 

Jonathon said - How did he walk here? How did he control that Grougho thing? He... well, we call it a 'he,' can't effect matter. Can he? ...
Doctor Franklin interjected - I believe we went over this before. He doesn't move mater directly, but he can 'talk' to it.. communicate with the particles and if they're amenable, the matter moves. But he tires quickly and can only keep it up for short periods of time Maybe entities experience troughs and crests? Now he's in a trough. Who knows how long it will last?

Sarah said - What's going to happen to Billy?... The Doctor thought and said - It all depends on how long the entity 'keeps' him and other things too. The creature, when it was originally in physical form, was in no way human, or even remotely related to humans.
Alien life is like that. I know you're aware of Europa and what goes on out there. You know. Disembodied entities are most successful when they possess one of their own, or perhaps a form very closely related. This 'thing' was originally a praying mantis, a very civilized praying mantis, but an insect-like thing the size of Sea-biscuit. What can I tell you? His limbs were different than ours. His organs functioned differently. His nervous system, and that's like his switchboard, in no way resembles ours. He breathed through spiracles, for God's sake.
I don't think he can reconcile the way his mind works with a human body. It's like putting an octopus in a suit of armor, or a human skeleton in a jellyfish.

But he did this before? - asked Edith. How did he manage then?... Who knows if he did? - said Franklin. Maybe all those times were with creatures like him, or somewhat like him. And he will eventually create some type of interface. The only thing is, when that happens the unrelated body wears out fast. The entity loses interest, surrenders the deteriorating physical mess and the host dies.

They just sat there. For almost four and a half years the mortal blogger was one of the family. They didn't want to lose him.

Then the 'Discoverer of electricity' said - We can always find a more suitable host. We can lure it out of Billy.

Do you have any suitable candidates? - asked Jonathon. I don't think a garden variety Earth praying mantis would do.

Give me time - said the Doctor.

How much time? - asked Sarah.

I don't know - whispered Doctor Franklin.

While upstairs, in Billy's room, the disembodied spirit entity slowly learned how to play human genitalia by ear... which is pretty hard for a creature that never had any... Ears, I mean...

<more next time>


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Tuesday, February 24, 2015

They Hear KILL DA WABBIT As An Entity Settles In... 2/25/15

I'll take over now. It's me. It's Zebulon, your second favorite disembodied spirit. Thirteen when I died, but been doing this for twenty one hundred years, so, uh. I know what I'm doing.

Billy won't wake up. They try everything. Sarah dribbled a few drops of vampire blood between his lips. Edith threw hoo-doo's. Jonathon said prayers. He has this exorcism rite he does. But it didn't do anything. They called a doctor... a 'familiar' doctor. He helps them and they help him. Sometimes he screws up with a kid. Parents get sad and all. Doc gets scared he might be sued. So he gets a few drops of night-folk blood and stirs it into the kid's cough syrup. Twelve hours later, the little bundle wakes up, opens his eyes, smiles, gurgles and goes - Ya ya ya ya ya ya ya ya!.... And everybody's happy. Nobody knows what he did. nobody has to know. Now he's over here at the townhouse returning the favor. Got a portable cardiogram machine and everything. Some stuff for rudimentary blood test. Sets it up on the desk where the laptop usually is. They all stand around watching. Sarah's real scared. She actually knew Billy back when she first ran the book store. He used to go into Philadelphia After Dark. She was mortal then. They talked. She'd recommend books. Now she's a vampire and he's their designated blogger. Boy life is strange. Jonathon doesn't say much. But he's worried too.  Edith knits. She sits and knits. That's what she does when she's nervous. Makes scarves and gloves for the elferinos and elferinas. Makes little ones for the cherubs too. They don't talk about them much, but they're out there. 

Sarah quietly says - Is he alive?..... 
Doctor says - Sort of. If I go by the readings. Blood oxygenation within normal range. Brain waves make sense. He responds to stimuli. Not much, but he responds. Definitely not a vegetative state. Body temps a bit low, but that happens. Everything's as it should be.
Then what's wrong? - says Jonathon.
His heart. His heart's not beating- says the doctor.
What do you mean 'his heart's not beating?' -says Jonathon.
I mean there's no muscular contraction. No nothing. It's inert. Yet everything is normal, as if it was beating - says the doctor. And they can see how puzzled he is. 
Sarah says - What do we do now?
He just shrugs.
Give him some water. Not a lot. Just a little bit. See if he swallows - says Edith.
You want him to choke? You want him to aspirate it into his lungs? - goes the doctor.
You said his heart's not pumping. So I assume his lungs ain't workin' either - she says.
What are you? Are you a doctor? - he goes.
Look who's talkin'! You almost killed a kid, you son of a bitch. And now because a them, you're off the hook. Gonna submit a bill and grab plenty. Sure 'cause a what THEY done - goes Edith.
He makes like she's not even worth acknowledging. She picks up on that and continues - Let your mother make a fuss over you. We're done with that. .... Then he gulps. She can see him swallow. She hit home. She knows. Good.
Jonathon goes - Get some water.....
Sarah hurries into the bathroom, finds the paper cups, fills one and comes back.
Doctor goes - Give it to me. I'll give it to him. If he swallows... if he can still swallow, that's a good sign. If not... (he just trails off)...
Then he pinches the rim of the cup to make a little spout and goes to pour a drop or two in Billy's mouth. But his hand's shakin'. It's really shaking. And the water falls on his chin. Only thing is, it doesn't run down his jaw onto the pillow. Just seems to 'fizz' through his skin. Body just absorbs it.
Jonathon sees. He says - give him more. Pour it on his forehead. See what happens...
The doctor does. Same thing happens. It just 'goes in' through the skin.
Doctor goes - He, he's taking it. He's not swallowing, but he's taking it.
No shit, Doctor Bombay - goes Edith. You think witchy-woman don't know that. He's skin drinkin'. What's in him wants the water and that's how it takes it.
You know what I think it's like? - says the doctor (not to her, to Jonathon). It's like a pole change. Like a polar shift. Something's taking over. Everything's shifting. I don't know how to get him back... He looks toward Sarah and goes - Can I have a drink? Not water. Not that. Do you have any vodka?....
Well, you know how them vampires are with vodka?...
Sarah goes - Yes, what kind?
Orange? You have that? - he goes...
Give me a minute - she says. Then she runs downstairs to get it.
Edith chuckles, but never drops a stitch.

While deep within his body, sealed in darkness, the part that's Billy shrinks down into a singularity and keeps on going, as a vast smothering force presses in from all sides.

Sarah returns with the vodka and hands it to the doctor who gulps it down. But the TV remote fell, or something and BOOM, flat screen snaps on and  lights up with Elmer Fudd in a metal hat going - Kill da wabbit! Kill da wabbit!... Doctor almost chokes. Edith breaks into a fit of laughing and starts humming along. 

Jonathon picks up the remote and turns it off.


As deep within the prison of his hyjacked body, Billy weakly goes - Kill da wabbit. Kill da wabbit.


As an alien voice whispers something in a strange, clicking tongue.

<more next time>


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Jonathon came down just after sunset. The sky was a pale, somber, watery blue. Vampires like it that way. Some venture out when there's still quite a bit of light in the sky. People see them. Children are still playing. It all seems so natural. Night-folk are great at obfuscation. He was about to leave the house for a quick stroll... let the neighbors see him and all. Granted, their block was quiet. Not too many people about. But there's always a few. Though before he got to the door, Edith grabbed him. She said - Jonathon, Billy never got up. I listened at the door. He's still sleeping. Jonathon, it's a quarter to six (dusk comes later in February).

He turned and went back up. Edith followed. Sarah was coming down when they entered the hall... She knew something was wrong. Actually, Jonathon did too, from the moment he opened his eyes. Vampires are attuned to such things. Yet their brain is still a human brain and quite prone to denial. 

They stood by the door and listened. But these are not the hollow interior doors you may be used to. These are solid wood... historical accuracy, you know. Society Hill people are very picky about that. Some hide flat screens behind paintings and refrigerators behind cabinetry and skeletons in closets and dirty socks under the bed. But that's another story.

Jonathon knocked. He said - Billy? Billy? Are you alright?.... (no answer). He tried to open the door, but it was locked. So he sublimated his hand through the wood, reached back and fiddled with the latch. They went in. The room was dark, but they could hear the breathing ...and something else. Edith switched on the light. Small glistening shapes scurried everywhere. Billy slept on a mound of them. They explored his nostrils... his mouth... under his t-shirt and inside his tightie-whities. The three of them just stood there. Sarah said - Why can't I smell them? (vampires have a keen sense of smell). Jonathon went to the dresser and tried to brush them off, but his hand went right through them. Sarah said - Are you sublimating?... He shook his head and whispered - No, they're sublimating through me. 

It's a hoo-doo - said Edith. Like a dream, or ghost stuff. Something's in here. That thing from the wax figure. It never left.

Then she mumbled a prayer, or some kind of incantation and they vanished. Just turned to smoke and blew away.

The bed was just a bed. Billy slept under the covers. They tried to wake him... but he just slept.  That part of the 'ghost stuff' held true.

Entities have other ways to explore a host.

Billy trembled. He was cold. Edith got another blanket and covered him.

Jonathon looked concerned...

<more next time>


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Saturday, February 21, 2015


I was making biscuits. Everybody likes my biscuits. Them vampires take 'em to people. give 'em to 'familiars' (mortal helpers). Make a big batch, maybe seven or eight dozen. Used a do it with lard, but Sarah says people don't like that no more 'cause although it tastes good, folks say it makes 'em drop dead too much. Folks in the Pines never dropped dead too much and they all love Edith's biscuits. I am a good cook in addition to being a good witchy-woman. Once when folks complained bout all the stink bugs, I threw a hoo doo. Got rid of 'em. Marched out from all the houses in straight little lines and drowned themselves in a river. Don't make a difference what river. We got lots a rivers. Really just streams, but we don't wanna hurt they feelings.

Something's not right. I don't know what it is. Sarah says that entity 'diffused.' That's what disembodied spirits do when they lose interest in something... or somebody. They just make with a big sigh and expand in all directions till they are everywhere and nowhere at the same time. That's how they rest. But I don't think that happened. She talkin' 'bout what they want to happen. I'm talkin' 'bout what is happening. 

Billy don't seem right. Never goes out no more. Never walks around down on South Street, or Head House Square. I ask. He says it's about the cold... Cold never stopped him before. An' his eyes look all screwy, like he lookin' at a big chunk a plain air. One night, when all the others out doin' they nightly hoo haas, I see him sittin' in the den lookin' at television. He watchin' a show 'bout what astronauts gone do on Mars, but he don't pay no attention. He just sit there.... But I see a shadow pass over him... an' it not my shadow, 'cause I'm sittin' in the kitchen. Even his shirt collar move, like it bein' touched. An' I see a dirty bird in the garden. That a term we have. Can be any kind a bird, just look troublin'. This bird got one eye. Other all puckered an' shut. Plus it eatin' a baby mouse, or what used a be a baby mouse. Crow might do that, but this no crow. Little bill tappin'... pickin' off tiny, pink, stretchy bits a mouse (maybe part what got the squeak in it). I wanna shoo it away. But somethin' tell me not too.... I hear mumbles 'round the house too... little whispers and not in any manner a talk folks 'round here knows.

Never used to mind the dark. Figure what can happen in a vampire house. Sometime I sit by the front room window. Lights all out. I peek through the drapes. This block quiet. Don't get much traffic... cat maybe.... old lady with dirty face what talk to herself. ... guy with a fake ear. Fall off once. That's how I know.

But last night, while I spyin', little dog come prancin' in. Come right from the library... right through the wall. I know it real.... hear the claws clickin' ... But it did come through the wall... Little terrier lookin' thing. I could tell, even in the darkness. Street light come in through the drapes, you know. Funny, how I just didn't do nothin'.  Don't know if I could. Then it turned. It looked at me with a human face, just like a gnarled, old man, real angry and all. I said - Good evening..... But it just stick its tongue out at me and go through the wall... this time to the street... Later, when I go in the kitchen, step in all kind a little dog turds...

Keep lights on ever since.

<more next time>


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Friday, February 20, 2015

THE ENTITY REMEMBERS WHO HE WAS -- 2/19/15The RagTime Dance Scott Joplin + sheet music

I remember how it all began.... there's a vision I have, about promenades along the sea wall and water-ice socials on warm summer days. Everybody all spiffed out and polished. Whole families doing the 'Four Step' as (what you would call) Ragtime issued forth from pianofortes placed out on the verandas of stately homes along the way. Odd how such different organisms developed such similar aesthetics. I suppose the universe has a set number of themes and they just recycle them. I really don't know.

My mother was so fussy. She'd go - LadyBug, get in there. Do me up good!.... And her little beetle-like maid hopped around, polishing that carapace til it shone. She had such a smooth, even, green apple surface and a regal carriage. Her people had money, you know. An uncle was a flyer and flyers were very rare among Praying Mantis People. She wore hats... jaunty, little, specially made hats, created by a milliner to Senatorial wives and all that. Some had beautiful feathers. Such a bright, yellow tongue she had too and eyes like the finest cabuchon (smooth polished) emeralds. 

Please don't think we were nudists. We were not. Each wore cunning, little form fitting snoods over our external genitalia in powdery creamy oranges, yellows, or pinks. Garter-like ornaments decorated other parts of our bodies, some trailing long addendums of ribbons. 

And then we marched. A cake-walk, you might call it. Families waved as we went by.. an afternoon constitutional along Mulberry Avenue. Mulberries were quite the delicacy to our kind. My father was a banker and as rich as he could be. Though what could be the point of it is quite obtuse to me. He worked so much. sisters need dowries, you know. And the traditional dowry among our kind was a house... a substantial, three windows wide, four story tall, red sandstone townhouse in The City. Believe me, they did not come cheap.... The scene I relate to you now... The Promenade, took place not in the city, but in Sea Bright, the place where we summered.

That was my life, a young, mantid boy. I sailed on the bay. I remember that. And I remember my consecration. I remember The Chapel. We marched in, all of a certain age, festooned with white ribbons. Fourteen made The Ascent with me... eight boys and six girls. I almost remember their names. The Prayer Leader called us up, one by one, presenting each a small Book of Scripture. We linked fore limbs, tongue-wagged and sat down. Then came hymns and 'the preachings.' Each of the Consecrated returned to The Rostrum and delivered a sermonette detailing all we'd learned in consecration class, plus a recitation of our good works. Families were so proud. Seven hundred and fifty thousand of your years and I remember it. I know that now... Seven hundred and fifty thousand years. I remember so much, yet still can't find my name

But I know how it stopped. I know how it ended. One day, as we frolicked on the beach, a second 'sun' broke off from its parent and plummeted  toward us. No one moved.... a great, fiery, orb, expanded to the size of an incandescent island, til every part of the sky grew white as liquid iron. Steam rose all about us, as the sea itself boiled away... And then we boiled too, as our world was erased.

Why am I here and not where other faithful go? What keeps me in this place, adrift among the islands you call planets?

My 'new suit'... the one known as 'Billy' sits there tapping out the keys, though he knows not what he writes. The house is quiet. The others, being vampire are immune to the icy cold and free to haunt these old, old streets, engaged in other things.

I work the Billy thing like a puppet. Soon he'll be my coat. No, more than that. He'll be my skin. I'll see the world through mortal eyes and therein lies the prize.

<next time --- the possession>


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Thursday, February 19, 2015


I watched a meteor streak across the late night sky. Such arbitrary things they are. A man on the television said it came from this solar system's asteroid belt and weighed five hundred pounds. I suppose that equals the weight of three or four women, depending on food intake and other variables. If it tore into a city many thousands would have died. But this soulless thing skipped over the atmosphere like a stone. Millions saw the light, though none burned. 

To me, with my limited spirit vision it looked different. I saw a dark, dark gaseous streak slice across a white, white sky. How I missed the real thing. I've stitched myself into physical bodies before... too many times to count, if I want to be truthful... and not all of them were human, or even human-ish. I am an old, old spirit, divorced from my true form for eons. What does that word mean? Who cares? 

But now I am among you, eyeing the one who channels this... the one they call 'Billy.' Look at him. He knows not what he types. I control the fingers. I 'talk' to the tiny brains within each and every cell. I whisper into nucleic ears and tell them what to do. Thus fingers bend and muscles move. The words appear and you read it. 

Jonathon thinks I've gone, or at least become dormant. Maybe he knows better, but he hopes. He and Sarah go out at night to do whatever night-folk do. They have a routine... one killing per month. Two actually... one for him and one for her. I don't pay much attention to them. Maybe they do it on a full moon, or a new moon? I don't know. Some nights they just walk around doing good deeds. Last night she gave a homeless woman a three and a half carat, pillow cut, high grade diamond ring. Vampires come by so many strange things. They got a little pickled baby-thing in a glass globe. Guess the artisan fashioned each half independently, laid the tiny dead thing inside and stuck the other half on top. Maybe he had a little tube... glass or rubber. Maybe he stuck it in and pinched it between the two halves... dripped brine, or something like brine through it... could be alcohol. Maybe he made a little notch in each half so the embalming fluid could go through and patched it all up after. You can still see tiny bubbles in there (they all stick together... about the size of a dime)... stay near the uppermost part of the globe, which since it is a globe changes depending on how it was positioned. I look at it a lot. How smooth the seam is. Like an almost invisible equator going 'round a dead, little baby prison. None of them know how old it is either. Did I tell you that? But I know....

Egypt wasn't the first place. Sumeria wasn't either. Earth people built lots of old cities. Human minds just work that way. Stones are hard. Stones are strong. You stack them up in a careful manner, you get a fort, or a palace, or something like that. You can smooth them off... make them square... even pave the street. Soon you have quite a place. Basket weavers say - Hey, maybe we can do the same with corn silk, or some kind of other plant crap, as we do with reeds. After trial and error, the textile trade was born. So cities are no big thing. People always made them. Well, for about fifty thousand revolutions of this world around its sun they made them. That bubble-baby's from one of the early ones... Some place in the Caucus Mountains.

Took a body there once. Got used to it. Took a lot of bodies. Girl bodies.. Boy bodies... Old men... Soldiers. Zipped right in. Had my fun. Zipped right out.  They're dead when I leave. Soul never comes back. I don't know where it goes. Maybe they're not dead? Maybe they're something else?

Every once in a while I have what feels like a dream. I see a very different place. It's got plants, but not like your plants. And trees, but not like your trees. I smell things... the dirt... what grows... what dies. And I see a reflection in a little pond. It doesn't look like you... not like a human, I mean. Looks like a baby bird, or a praying mantis, or something like that. A voice in the back of my 'head' says 'that's you.'

How nice the colors are in those dreams... like what I see through other people's eyes. Maybe I'll see them soon? Just zip in and take over. Won't be no permanent habitation. I've still not learned how to work that trick. It's why I hover around vampires. They know so much, even if they're not aware of it. But I can still commandeer a body for a while.

Billy just types and types. At times he's actually sleeping. But he still types. I haven't had a tall body like him in a while. I like tall bodies. I can take bigger steps... walk faster... see more places.

I do not mean him any sort of personal harm, but you tell me... what am I supposed to do?

Wonder what it feels like to sit in a chair? Been a while. I forget. I like this townhouse. I like this old neighborhood. Why can't I live here for a while?

I have needs too.

<more next time>


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Tuesday, February 17, 2015


This is not you regular story. I know you gotta story here and this is not it. But I live with it for many many years and I want for you to know it. My name is Livia and my sister, they call her Dora. We come in a boat. I don't say 'on' a boat, 'cause that is not how it was. They force us down into darkness and there we stay... in the piss and the noise and the vomit.

One night, I say - Dora, come get fresh air. See the stars. Smell the water..... But she is afraid to do this, for steerage is our place. So I fix her hair... change her blouse. She don't want to do it, but she go. A man guard the steps. He got a uniform, like a soldier, but he is not a soldier. He says - Where duh yooz think yer goin'?..... I say - My sister sick. Let her throw up like a free woman. Ain't you got no mutter!?..... He makes a face. Maybe he thinkin' 'bout his mother? But he let us go...

This is  not the fancy deck. This is just a place where nobody goes... or nobody is supposed a go. Got a rail. Got everything. But no seats. You know those big seats you lay down on? Well, they don't got 'em. So I take Dora and we go to the rail. She don't wanna do it. Says - No, Livy. We're gonna slide over... I say - Stop it! Stop it! Nobody gone over. The rail is too high. Look. Look at the stars. You ever see so many?.... She looks and goes - They scare me. They make me feel so little, like a mouse. What if they get loose? What if they fall?... I hug her. She don't know. When she's born, midwife do something crazy and now... she got problems. But the breeze feels good and she likes that. So we stand.

A voice goes - Taking the air, I see..... We turn. They got a guy standin' there in a white tie and tails. Looks like a groom from a big wedding, or something. Eyes all sparkle. Looks like he wanna smile, but he don't smile. Dora always bashful. She grins. She makes faces..... Man takes a handkerchief from ... uh, I don't know where he takes it. But he got it. Says - Look, I got little cakes for you.... Then he unfolds it and we see 'bout six real pretty, little cakes. 'Rich girl' food they are.... Groom man goes - Take one. They are so creamy good.... I say - They from up there?.... Groom guy nods.... holds 'em out.... Dora goes - Tee hee hee...and takes a white one with blue squiggles on it... Then he looks at me. I do the same. I don't know what mine looked like. It was just cake. But he drugged it with something. I did not know that then, but I know it now.

Two hours later we were naked in a little room all covered with canvas cloths and half way to bein' vampirina. Think he had a deal with the steamship company. Dora screamin'. Skin all peelin' off. Some get it real bad. All red an' oozin'.... all flayed... Dora goes - Please, God. Please, God. Please, God.... Only God don't do nothin.... Then he brings in some skinny girl on a leash. Gave her some cakes too.... Guy goes - You ladies gotta bite her up real good and lick up all the blood... We do. It's like a instinct. Can't help it. I do most a the bitin'. But Dora lick up her share too.... Girl moans. She quivers. Got black and blue marks all over her skin... her legs and stomach and ass and all. Eyes all glazed... Dora goes - Th-th-this not gonna kill her, will it?..... Groom guy goes - Noooo. It's just like a game. A little rough, but just a game. You girls haven't  traveled much, have you?..... We shake our heads... Guy whispers - It shows.....

Twenty minutes later, skinny girl's dead. Dora starts cryin'. She goes No! No! No!..... Guy goes - Yes! Yes! Yes!..... We just look at him....Ten heartbeats later he says - What the hell you think, you dumb, God damn bitches?

Then he grins. For the first time he really grins.

Dora's all scared. She snifflin'. She goes - They are never gonna let us into 'merica now...

Guy busts out laughing, as two creeps come in, grab the body and jam it out through a port hole. Guess the sharks got it. I don't know..

Well, they did let us in America and Dora has never bitten anyone to this day. I bite people. Then I regurgitate the blood up into her mouth. Night-folk can do that. And that's how we live.

Did I want this thing?... Look... everybody has to make adjustments.

Just wanted to let you know how it is. Please don't watch those movies where we're always monsters. Promise me you won't do that. God they make me sick.

Sorry to but in, but that 'Billy' guy you got didn't even know he was channeling this and I've never had an opportunity to communicate with the real world, not more than one at a time anyway, so just blame me.

I can tell you he's plenty scared about that 'entity' though. Said something about it to people on the outside. Mentioned it on Twitter.

Jonathon (I think his name is) almost had a fit.

Now let me go. I gotta vomit blood in my sister's mouth...

<back to the entity story arc next time>


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<continuation of our 'entity' thread from a few nights ago>

Salutations, best beloveds. It is I, Zebulon, the disembodied spirit of a thirteen year old boy stoned for witchcraft in Hasmonean Jerusalem. That's the Hellenistic, though thoroughly Jewish dynasty existing between the ouster of the Post Alexander, Syrian-Greeks and the coming of Rome. Jews had names like John Hyrcanus and Aristobolus the Second, frequented gymnasia, yet studied Biblical Commentaries. Some free thinkers actually journeyed out to Bactrian ashrams. They say, certain phraseology in The Liturgy comes from those times. But I died as a child, barely sampling that world. Once I saw one of the Nephylim, though... Our word for aliens. A vaguely man shaped nimbus of silvery light. It came through the roof one hot summer night ( we slept on a terrace up there to escape the heat), stared at me from a featureless face, emanated what I assumed to be otherworldly syntax and continued up toward a dark, gunmetal colored vehicle. Everyone else was sleeping. Yeled, our Saluki (like a levantine Afghan hound) was up, but nothing phased him. A hunter he was... a watchdog he was not.

And now I watch and narrate the lives of others. All seems quiet around the townhouse. Edith boils pasta. Vampires, for some reason, enjoy the smell of boiling pasta. She and Billy eat it later. They haven't seen (or felt) the entity. But that doesn't mean he's not there. You see, he hasn't made up his mind yet. Does he want to effect a permanent (really just a long term) transfer, or a routine, quick 'try on?' That's where he infuses his essence (or energy) into the unlucky host. Believe me, for the host, it is not pleasant. All sensation stops. There's no interaction with anything. No sound, or sight, or taste, or smell, or touch. Just thought in a featureless, intangible darkness... Rather like the consciousness that sometimes occurs after death. Some spirits tarry too long in the body, you know. And then it's hard to break free. Indeed, they don't even know where they are. They say some stay that way forever.

But the 'interloper' has a good time. They're in the driver's seat. They control things... How wonderful physical sensation is. They see, feel and taste and all. When they're done and ready to move on, some 'release the corpse' via a swan dive from a great height, thus explaining various 'jumpers' around local bridges and skyscrapers. 

And this entity's eyeing our Billy. Long term, or quick visit... either way, it's no good.

It's snowing now... one of the first dry, powdery snows of the season... Not too much. Maybe four inches. The city sleeps, snug and still beneath a clean, fluffy comforter. A bright, white, winter night. ... or early morning. Like a cityscape on a sound stage made by God.

Billy sits in the den tapping this out. I 'write.' He 'channels.'

Does he grasp the situation?

Well, after associating with night-folk for almost four and a half years, what do you think?

Stay warm...

<more next time>


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Saturday, February 14, 2015

Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: THE PHOTOLUMINESENCE OF LIFE IN THE ABYSS

Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: THE PHOTOLUMINESENCE OF LIFE IN THE ABYSS: I could feel the cold. Temperatures at that depth hover near freezing. But my body was immune to it. Hypothermia does not effect us. I supp... Here's a scene from our MARIANNE IN BRITCHES story arc.. An elferina (girl transformed whilst in her early teens) regales wealthy, Society Hill matrons and their husbands (who paid ten thousand dollars each for the privilege of attending these sessions) with recollections of her paranormal life. this scene details what happened to her in the seventeenth century, when she was sealed into a leaden cask and thrown overboard into the sea.... If you like this episode, click NEWER POST or OLDER POST or (if possible) just scroll down for more... there's enough up here for at least six lengthy books. 

As always, PLEASE KNOW that this is not the post. Click on the title up above to go there and see that. Don't roll your eyes because I said this. You won't believe how many people don't get it. I understand, because I don't get much about the digital world either.

Oh, Society Hill is an old district of meticulously maintained colonial and federal townhouses in Center City, Philadelphia... In a sense, like traveling to London without traveling to London... and it's got ghosts coming out the wazoo.

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Friday, February 13, 2015


It is I, Doctor Franklin. Let me tell you what I know. Jonathon came to see me. We didn't meet at my complex under the Navy Yard.  That didn't feel right, although the 'thing' obviously knows it's there. But to me, it felt like drawing the fox to the hen house. So we went to a diner for a midnight breakfast. I ordered waffles. I love waffles... with peaches in medium syrup and a bit of whipped cream. The vampire asked for a pot of Earl Grey tea. He likes tea. There's something about diners late at night.... Like an oasis of warmth amidst the cold, dark city. 

We sat in a corner booth. Everyone looks strange under florescent light. Vampires fit right in. But do you want to know the truth?They don't really look different at all. Whatever 'force' it is that preserves them does a good job. Still, Jonathon was worried. You could see that. Billy is 'family' after all... not night-folk, though he did bring them into your world via this blog... Well, I told him what I knew.

The thing is a 'bashi-bazouk' - I said. An old spirit, unattached to any ethereal hierarchy. A 'loose cannon,' if you will. The name, an old Turkish term going back to Ottoman times, also means 'broken head' or free thinker. Bashi-bazouks do their own thing. And they lie. Maybe they don't know they're lying? Maybe thoughts become reality in their realm. But it's just the way they are. He's old. I can tell you that, but no where near as old as the galaxy. They all say that. 'As old as the stars' - It's a thing with them. I'd wager a guess he's seven hundred and fifty thousand years old. Know how I know that? They leave a signature... a residue of nothingness. Call it negative energy, or vacuum echoes. It's the stuff that powers those new engines they're testing. You know, if all goes well, relativistic space flight is only a few decades away. And that's not just my group. Nasa is in on it too.

I got the residue from the wax shard you gave me. Think it was part of Grougho Marx's chin. He, the entity, I mean, stole it from a wax museum in Niagara Falls. And I don't know how he did that. Entities, for the most part, cannot effect matter. Now it is possible he 'whispered' into the mind of a human helper. That person might have brought it here to Philadelphia for him. You say he 'inhabited' the artificial facsimile and actually staggered down the street in it?.... I'm at a loss. I can't explain it. Nor can I tell you what brought him here. Why doesn't he just try to find a way to occupy the body of his helper? They do this all the time... entities, I mean. Your Billy isn't his first fixation.  There were others. Then, after a while, whatever it is that plasters the spirit to the flesh wears off and it all turns to mush. Bones break through the skin. Finger meat falls off. Eyelids wither and die. Not like normal decomposition. Everything just turns to a frothy, bloody mess.
A bashi-bazouk... that's it. That's what you have.

Can we prevent it from doing what it wants to do?... No.

But...  we can change it's mind.

It's strange, Jonathon, for your first nine hundred and forty years you didn't know this. Oh, you may have tasted a bit here and there, but it never meant much. I can tell. I'm only three hundred and eight years old, but I study everything. And I'm talking about magic. But for the last year or two, you've been in the thick of it. And not just at The Vampire Revels or visits to The Hermetic Order Of The Golden Dawn. I mean every day.

But I can't tell you why..... You know, the 'sea hag,' the old mermaid died. She was in her tank. We made it as nice as possible. There was a little island. There was a little beach... holographic island scenes and everything. Spent a lot of money. You'll have to excuse me for tearing up... She sang... She sang her sea song. You know what their language sounds like. We stayed with her. We listened... Gave her some fresh herrings and she died... Floated under the surface... about a foot or two down, looked up, smiled and died. We never even knew how old she was. That's how it is.

Then the waitress brought his platter. Doctor Franklin thanked her. She smiled at a customer who was just another old, white haired guy in a heavyweight, green, Eagles sweatsuit. After that he quietly began to eat, while Jonathon sipped his tea and studied the quasi-hipsters scattered around the place.

3AM est in Center City, Philadelphia...

Have you done your magic today?...

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Thursday, February 12, 2015


this will have to be a short post and please forgive all the typos. It's Billy (the one who set up this blog for them). I'm scared. That 'entity' thing is after me. It wants me. It wants my body. I don't leave the house. I stay near the vampires (mostly Jonathon). Even when he sleeps during the day, I stay upstairs. My room (under the eaves) is right above his sleeping chamber. Maybe eleven inches of joists and floor boards and plaster (this is an old residence) separates us. I hope and pray his strength can save me... Sarah's too. Edith gives me charms... little things she makes from fish scales and chicken bones... old Piney stuff... What's that gonna do against an entity that goes from here to Pluto and beyond? Edith says size don't mean nothing when it comes to spirit beings. They all exaggerate...'I fill the firmament' and all that. she says - who the hell cares? air is just air... I tell her hurricanes are just air too.... she says - That thing mostly out in space. No air there. Just a whole bunch a nothing.... I googled 'the vacuum of space'.... Article said - they now know even the emptiness of space is filled with electronic eddies and echos of events ocurring elsewhere. And that energy produces matter-like particles. So every place got something in it. Dust is everywhere. 

I pray. I look up 'afterlife' to see what that's like. But how's somebody supposed to write a Wikipedia about something they (or anybody else for that matter) have ever seen? One guy says there IS no death, just life-life-life-life-life up to the very end and then it just stops. Like when a roll of toilet paper runs out. Ain't no ghost toilet paper. what was is all used up. Ain't no death. Ain't no nothing. Not even a split second where you can say - Son of a bitch. Look what's happening. Just go BLIP! and that's it.

Other people say there is a world to come. they say energy can neither be created nor destroyed. Life is a type of energy, so they gotta have a place for us somewhere. Even Albert Einstein believed that. But he also used to mess his hair up and stick his tongue out at reporters, so who knows?

And how do they reconstitute families in heaven? Are we all the same age? Do we live with our parents or our babies? Must be a lot of aliens up there quiet, reverent spider people... or wet, mushy clam people or clowns that don't wear makeup, but just have skin like that. Heard that in Killer Clowns From Outer Space. Made sense too.

I know they called Doctor Franklin. Jonathon has a special number. they use throw-away discount store phones. Safer that way. I hope he can do something. I was in a fetal position all day. Edith wanted me to eat. Got me the good chicken nuggets from Wendy's. I could eat twenty of them any other time. that's only nine hundred calories. For a dinner it ain't so bad. But this time I only ate seventeen. You know how it is. 

Will that entity thing kill me? I had a dream. I was smoke...just a little cloud of smoke... a column really... and I saw my body walking away from me... Tried to move toward it, but the breeze wouldn't let me. Tried to call out. But smoke ain't got no voice box... then the breeze got stiffer and blew me away... No thoughts... No words.... No colors.... no dark... No lights. Just like it was before I was born.

It's 4:45AM est here. I'm sitting up in the bed, all wrapped up in blankets. Wall's cold. Bed's up against the wall. I like it like that. Real cozy with all the blankets. Got a little lamp on next to the bed.... a carved, ship's wheel lamp with a nubby, light brown, linen shade. Sometimes I hear someone running up on the roof. But that doesn't scare me. It's probably just an elferino or elferina. They come around here too all the time. Everybody likes them... even when they go a little crazy. If you do not know who, or what they are, google elferino or elferina by me, Billy Kravitz... Wow... I put so much up here, over 800,000 words, enough for six long books. 

Wonder who'll read it after i'm gone. 

Will my body still be walking around?... And what's gonna be in it?

I'm gonna stop now and curl up under the blankets. Got a Bible under my pillow. Jonathon once gave it to me... all in Hebrew, from when he was in Jerusalem. I can sound out most of the words, but don't know what they all mean.... Know the big parts anyway... the big prayers... My God is near. I know not fear.

Maybe it'll help me?

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Wednesday, February 11, 2015


I share this with you, the humans, or primarily humans who read these posts. I need no disembodied spirit to funnel words and ideas into my brain. First of all, I have no brain. Second of all I AM a disembodied spirit. 

But I want you to have a sense of my size, experience and capabilities. Right now, the one they call 'Billy' types this. I suppose to him, I am a disembodied spirit, but this revelation is mine... not his. And as I interact with you thusly, the 'tail' end of my being undulates out beyond your Keiper Belt. At times the very 'tip' of my presence (much like the end of a whip) 'cracks' into adjacent dimensions. Extra-dimensional organisms may experience a huge flash of light, rather like a monstrous aurora. I'm sure their scientists fashion 'rational' explanations. That's what limited intellects do... or perhaps intimidated intellects. God knows you have a lot of those. My 'head' ... the part of me in your vicinity, stretches from Earth's farthest, sunward Van Allen Belt to the orbit of the Moon. I am a diaphanous serpent... when I want to be. But to be truthful, size... doesn't matter. I can contract down to the quantum realm. That's where the magic happens. 

How people talk about that thing... magic, I mean. Though it's nothing more than forces... great universal tides. Magicians are simply those who make friends with such things. They ask and they receive. 

I cannot do that. My talents run toward obfuscation and camouflage. I can fool, but can't create. And I don't know why. They don't 'hear' me. It's like I don't exist. Maybe we're just not compatible? Creation guards its secrets well. Who guards creation?

But I will have my avatar... my switchboard into your plain. I will 'see' through human eyes and 'taste' with a human tongue. Odd that the very one typing this communication will be that chariot. Yet he doesn't know. I work him like a puppet. I say - press this key. press that key. forget and go on. He, the one they call 'Billy,' functions in a quasi-sleeping state.... and I am the sandman. 

It's 3:45AM est in Philadelphia. The vampires are out on their rounds. In one hundred and fifty minutes the sky will begin to lighten... maybe a bit sooner. The night-folk will return and slumber through the day. The one they call 'Billy' will sleep too. But I have no restrictions. There is no 'day.' There is no 'night.' There's but light and shadow. For when you experience night here on your world, does not the Moon know day?

(figurative yawn) Oh, I have seen so much. Once I told all manner of biting fly to reproduce in a much accelerated fashion and feast upon the bodies of beings on another world. Obviously these were not your flies....
And the souls of that other place knew torment and misery til they sang hymns and walked into fires to escape it all.

Billy trembles. He needs true sleep. I will let him have his rest... 

My presence wanders into the kitchen and watches Edith play solitaire . The little ghost boy from the cellar watches too

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Billy fell over on the floor, so we have to stop now. 

Tuesday, February 10, 2015


I don't let 'em put no name on this til after we done, 'cause how you know where a river gonna go til it get there. So you gotta know the name you see went up after we finished. It is only honest for me to tell you that. Jus' incase tou don't recall the cadence of my speech, I am Old Mister Never-You-Mind... one a them disembodied spirits that tell this tale... "Narrate' the term they use. Well, I one a them... a narrator. Some nights we don't announce who doing the talkin'. But we always here. Any big headed son a bitch what tell you he write a book, a liar, 'cause all he do is tap it out, if he got a keyboard, or scratch it out if he got a pencil... maybe some yellow, legal pads too, so I've been told. He a secretary. Some other soul do all the thinkin'. That how God set it up. He go - OK, you see it. You say it. You write it. You read it..... And all them 'yous' is mostly different people, 'case you can't tell.

We got lot a books born where I come from. Hatch 'em out like turtle eggs, or tadpoles. I am an old, dead Creole-Cajun 'gentlemen.' Lot a you know me. Lot a you don't. Got myself burned up by gangster-men. Tie me to a chair. Dowse me wit' gasoline and light me up. Wheee! Everybody laughin' an' clappin'... doin' them Spanish foot stompin' dances... I screamin' and screamin'... Them what say fire burnin' pain go way after first layer a nerves die is a lyin' bastid... 'cause under first nerves is more nerves what go all the way down to the bone. Plus burnt up pee-pee parts don't tickle none either. 

Look. lemme switch gears here an' tell you what went on in that townhouse. 

Jonathon come down holdin' his right eye. He go - Shit! I can't see! ... Sarah (she his wife) help him sit down on a sofa..... Edith (she the witchy-woman housekeeper) run in and go - What you mean? Vampire ain't supposed a go blind! ..... He shakin'. He scared..... Sarah go - Get him some vodka.... Jonathon go - NO! I don't need no liquor! Lemme be! Lemme be!....Please excuse me talkin' in my own voice, but that how I do..... So he just sit there, holdin' his hand over his eye an' rockin' back and forth real fast..... Broken, old, wax, monster, Groucho Marx lookin' thing still set across from sofa on another chair. Nobody pay it no mind. Figure that entity bastid ain't in it yet.... But they wrong.... Lights flicker. Not just in den, but all over the house. An' gas fireplace whoosh on.... Then it start makin' faces. Big fat, red, wet human tongue start pokin' out a cracked, wax mouth. From nowhere, Edith's hair goes up in flames. Can't even see her face. She starts screamin'! They jump up. Sarah grabs a pot. Fills it with water. Billy races down from his cozy, little room under the eaves. Then eight heartbeats later it's over. Ain't no fire. Edith ain't even burned. Red tongue gone too. Everybody shakin' an' cryin.' Sarah spill all the water back in the sink. 

Thing in the chair go - You assholes better set down and shut up! (only it use different words). I can't change nothin.' I can't manipulate matter. But I do 'mind whisper' real good. (looks at Jonathon) Get that hand away from your eye, you big dumb nut. You not blind. (Jonathon blinks, sighs and complies.) Now pay attention! Y'all gone help me. Y'all gone get me all fixed up. I will have that body. Don't cross me, or I will f#ck you up. I have made whole planets, bushel baskets full, piss theyselves and die, 'cause they see a big scary, two mile high tidal wave loom over the horizon. 'Cloud kissers,' they call 'em. You know what it feel like gettin' smashed underneath all that water? You wanna know?.... They shake their heads... The entity continues - An' when I stop and go 'OK, party's over,' they still dead. Don't make no difference where they be. Everybody see the water, an' that a horrible thing. But it not real. All just a optical delusion. That what I can do. An' don't think I ain't got dreams what can can finish off vampire too. Y'all wanna be forever in the gut of a giant cockroach? Lemme know. Edith!...... Housekeeper go - Y-y-yes?..... Thing go - Get them assholes some a that alcohol y'all drink 'round here. I want 'em real calm when we make our plans....

Then it look at that Billy guy what set this blog thing up for 'em. Glass eyes lock on real good. He make like he don't notice, but he do...

An' Edith give him a drink too....

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Monday, February 9, 2015


<back to Jonathon and the entity>

Edith wanted to remove the grotesque wax figure. She was the one who had to look at it all day. I suppose their 'blogger,' Billy had to deal with it too. But he'd hide up in his cozy, little room under the eaves all day typing away and tweeting to people. Sometimes he just slept, or ate whatever food he had in the tiny refrigerator up there. For a city room, it was very quiet. Occasionally the little ghost boy from the basement came up to visit. Billy'd tell him stories about an addled knight named Sir Bertram Buckleberry. I don't know where they got the name, but the ghost boy liked it. Then, when he wasn't upstairs (Billy, I mean) he'd bundle up and go out, usually to a coffee bar, or a book shop, or a walk-about.

No, Edith had to confront the sinister, broken, Groucho Marx thing herself. Once she threw an old table cloth over it. But she swore she saw the head move under the creamy damask.
So she'd sit in the kitchen. There was a scaled down seating area adjacent to the backdoor... two small club chairs... a table... a lamp. She could see the twenty one inch, flat screen TV from there too. And the powder room was right nearby. So that's where she stayed. Housekeeping duties would have to wait until the broken, human effigy sitting in the den was gone. She did fix dinner for Billy and herself. Well, what she called 'dinner' was his late lunch. Though Edith hated handling knives now, especially the big, sharp kitchen knives. She'd hear noises... muffled words...a quiet, whispering, steady voice telling her to take a knife (one of the sharp ones) and force it into the flesh of her neck til she felt the tip puncture her esophagus.... It would cajole and plead and cry.... She caught herself raising the knife and staring at her reflection in the blade. What would it be like to saw through the gristle of her own food pipe?..... Steve Harvey saved her. He said something on the TV that caught her attention. She put the knife down. Now light can be grey and low on a Philadelphia winter afternoon. Shadows can play tricks. But Edith swears the thing on the chair in the den looked at her. She said a Piney Prayer, threw a hoo-doo and tried to ignore it, though the gaze was still the same. Worst of all... it tried to smile.

When Billy came down a bit later to see if she wanted anything at the market (vampires do drink tea and coconut water and things like that) she grabbed her coat and scarf and said - That's alright. I'll go..... Then she ran out into the cold, damp air and didn't come back til sundown. Billy said - It's a quarter to six. What took so long?..... Edith nervously put everything away and said - Nothing. sometimes it just takes long. That's all.

Billy said - Should I ask Groucho if he wants a piece of cheese?....... They always bought blocks of Cracker Barrel cheese.... Edith said - What are you playing around for? That's not funny.

But Jonathon and Sarah didn't come down til seven fifteen. Vampires always rise with the darkness. That was six o'clock... maybe ten after six. Also Jonathon was blind in one eye and that wasn't funny at all.

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