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Bon note, mi amici... This is not a regular post, just a little idea I have for what could be a cool, cable show based on the day to day lives and intrigues of a 15th century, ruthless Italian dynasty ruling a wealthy, powerful city-state in the North. Welcome to the rebirth of KNOWLEDGE, with more plunging bodices and clingy hose than the Ballet Russe... Stone halls with courtiers and feral hounds. Great galleons plying the sea. Byzantium has just fallen to the Turks. While to the west, a rapidly rising Spain threatens to recreate the world entire.
Meet the family Monte di Ferro, or Monte Antica, as they are sometimes called, descendants of an old clan dating back to the dissolution of the Frankish Empire. They've produced popes, statesmen, domineering consorts and a secret Illuminati or two.
Franco fights to keep the ducal throne. His wife dallies with a wealthy Converso (secret Jew). His heir held for ransom on the Island of Rhodes, while a daughter, banished to a convent for 'inappropriate behavior' threatens him at every turn.
Witness the glamor and pageantry of violent, bloody horse races careening round the public square.... the masked balls of carnivale... occult magicians and alchemists... refugees fleeing a nascent Inquisition.... and enemies slowly boiled in oil and sulphur...
Then there's Zio Lorenzo (Uncle Lorenzo) a bitter, younger brother engaged as a mercenary cavalry officer for the Polish-Lithuanian magnates... or at least he was, until he returns in the company of a beautiful witch, la strega Isabella...
Like GAME OF THRONES? ... No, this is real. These things really happened...
What a day, what a day for an Auto da Fe, but that comes later...
We open as Franco oversees the torture of a spy.
Since spying was considered theft, they snip off the offender's fingers with huge, razor sharp shears, throwing the guilty digits to the lampreys, writhing in a nearby zinc lined tank. You see all manner of things in a dungeon.....
The victim screams. He trembles and nearly chokes on his own snot... They stop, leaving one fore finger and a thumb on his left hand... He fights for breath, bound to a rough, wooden 'throne.'...
Franco speaks. He says - Name your master. Name the leader. If you do that, your wounds will be bound and you can keep what you have left.
The man sits, snorts and thinks for a few moments, then he raises his head and laughs like a maniac.
Franco fights to maintain his composure. He approaches the man, stands before him, studies the pathetic fool, then suddenly boxes his ears. The laughter turns to shrieks. Franco leans down and says - I hope you can hear me, for I chose to be merciful. You may keep that finger. You may keep that thumb. I'll have something else instead...
The brutal, human ape of a torturer looks up.
Franco goes - Prepare the cucchiaio ......
And watches as the butcher heats a an old, specially shaped, rusty spoon...
Approximately ninety six heartbeats later, the butcher scoops out both eyes, turns to the duke and asks - should I finish him?
Franco says - No, let him live....
( cue the music... as the credits roll)
<<<<< KNOWLEDGE>>>>>
Just an idea, but I could get into this.
Please comment... Thank you.
click TWITTER ... to join me there, or click OLDER POST down below to see any episodes you might have missed.
Meet the family Monte di Ferro, or Monte Antica, as they are sometimes called, descendants of an old clan dating back to the dissolution of the Frankish Empire. They've produced popes, statesmen, domineering consorts and a secret Illuminati or two.
Franco fights to keep the ducal throne. His wife dallies with a wealthy Converso (secret Jew). His heir held for ransom on the Island of Rhodes, while a daughter, banished to a convent for 'inappropriate behavior' threatens him at every turn.
Witness the glamor and pageantry of violent, bloody horse races careening round the public square.... the masked balls of carnivale... occult magicians and alchemists... refugees fleeing a nascent Inquisition.... and enemies slowly boiled in oil and sulphur...
Then there's Zio Lorenzo (Uncle Lorenzo) a bitter, younger brother engaged as a mercenary cavalry officer for the Polish-Lithuanian magnates... or at least he was, until he returns in the company of a beautiful witch, la strega Isabella...
Like GAME OF THRONES? ... No, this is real. These things really happened...
What a day, what a day for an Auto da Fe, but that comes later...
We open as Franco oversees the torture of a spy.
Since spying was considered theft, they snip off the offender's fingers with huge, razor sharp shears, throwing the guilty digits to the lampreys, writhing in a nearby zinc lined tank. You see all manner of things in a dungeon.....
The victim screams. He trembles and nearly chokes on his own snot... They stop, leaving one fore finger and a thumb on his left hand... He fights for breath, bound to a rough, wooden 'throne.'...
Franco speaks. He says - Name your master. Name the leader. If you do that, your wounds will be bound and you can keep what you have left.
The man sits, snorts and thinks for a few moments, then he raises his head and laughs like a maniac.
Franco fights to maintain his composure. He approaches the man, stands before him, studies the pathetic fool, then suddenly boxes his ears. The laughter turns to shrieks. Franco leans down and says - I hope you can hear me, for I chose to be merciful. You may keep that finger. You may keep that thumb. I'll have something else instead...
The brutal, human ape of a torturer looks up.
Franco goes - Prepare the cucchiaio ......
And watches as the butcher heats a an old, specially shaped, rusty spoon...
Approximately ninety six heartbeats later, the butcher scoops out both eyes, turns to the duke and asks - should I finish him?
Franco says - No, let him live....
( cue the music... as the credits roll)
<<<<< KNOWLEDGE>>>>>
Just an idea, but I could get into this.
Please comment... Thank you.
click TWITTER ... to join me there, or click OLDER POST down below to see any episodes you might have missed.
12 comments:
I remember when Sir Ron's comment disappeared.. comments were all screwy last fall... Ron Woodard is the best! ( @glamrkidnyc )
Relaxing? Studying? Searching for answers? Well, pull up to #Vampirewonderland.blogspot.com.
Sir William "Billy" Kravitz even after wealth, war, famine and prosperity @wilkravitz continues to nourish his great talent for writing not as things should be but as they are. Though.., with his own unique and often unduplicatable dedication.
BOna sera Don O'Nare.. e motto grazie... Are you on Twitter or any other sight?
New to the blogging. And find your blog to be quite well put together and quite fun! I look forward to becoming a "blogger" one day too!
GO to BLOGGER.COM .. they walk you right through setting it up... the blog, I mean...Very easy... I am in no way tech savvy and I did it... Do it... Take the time and go over to BLOGGER.... You'll enjoy blogging.... I like to post as often as I can but been neglecting it lately... Twitter account expanded (that's good) but takes SO MUCH to keep track of it all... Gonna get back to at least every other day posting.
The meaning of *INCLUSION* exists specifically and w/@wilkravitz a man, writer ., err., (my redifine) --> *AUTHOR* --> *WILKRAVITZ* deLIVErs most especially when *one* thinks of what choices to make --> *FIND* them at "VAMPIREWONDERLAND.BLOGSPOT.COM".
Not A one to chew throw spare procur resolve regroup did has thine great order not forgotten. From a well wisher to you, You! Yes!! YoU. --> make all of us different to none all the same to too many? There is a "voice" and ,I'm ., (We! :))ar e hoping you'll comtinue. Many Happy Hopes!
The Count who only by family lineage from centuries long forgotten except in the re-telling of their "peoplle's" time.
Befkre racism, classicism or culture collided to exp tbose who lambs amongst wolves. ., those who have been "ex-partiots" whk were shunned for not buying into their current economical exchanges of "quid-pro-quo", they never listen.
History has proven that painting a town blue, yeloow or red "those" people need not apply.
And all the while these things happe , Billy, the scribe, of the history of (not onlyl vampires scurrily and frantically attempts to record their stories.
A man of such vaulted high skcial gestures, "sees" the imperfections of the insecure. Locking thekr inability to see yheir potential to his as he elevates everyone around him.
Those choices you .make are only decided when everything is everywhere, they are simple.
Do right by yourself first.
Then and only thrn can you not only rely on yourself but you can change the lives of those around you.
ONLY You decide which choices to make the answers to the questions you seek are already there.
"If you have to ask to ask the question, you already know the answer".
Go easy on our YES our SCRIBE. For witbout each other we are no-one to the other.
It is true for it is I who has changed and it's grown to be someone else based upon the choices that I have made and then when everything was everywhere the only choice I can make with my own I thank you for that
Dave O'Nare
Mounting the tombs or as the street folk call them "palaces". That space between lives in existent of time or its meaning. Lay ascewed, leaves blown into the wind. Oh, how they try to sublimate themselves into not being side-walkers.
Unlike those "night-folk" all observations of each surroundings bound by no more a few feet from your front door.
Treaseures some say found in anothers discard building up spirits the distsnce from stoop to stool aren't that far either.
Lugging daily, nightly a "lifetime" of the "could-be's" overtaken by the "can't-have". So they, the best eyes you'll ever find are those on thd street. Unlike the human folk who's "culling" only last as long as their mortal bodies will allow, carry the weights of both worlds. Preservation beibg paramount and an unsurprising amount of detail to how many steps it takes to carry those stories are for giants.
Byt yet, Sir William or "Billy" for short, languishes towards the type writer, frantically dictacting all lives and observations experoienced at every moment.
Exhaustion is a foreign concept to the tick tick tack'ing of the type writer. Speaking not only of those who's rhythms he can transcribe but of his own hopeful steps, to be followed in.
You must without fail, read vampirewonderland.blogspot.com.
Billy speaks of the dead as if they never died and are born again with each and every step he can record.
He tries. A d succeeds. Read!.
Learning as one does after centuries of living only to die, the crew languishes the days from their beginnings. A time when the fresh dirt and air were fertal in your abundances of harvest.
Fields upon fields of day-walkers (humans) would "disappear" beneath the tall tassles of corn and wheat stalks. Prine feeeding grounds to "cull" the humans. A sly, witty compliment usually suckered them in. Where then they were eaten in whole bites like corn off the cob, row by row their flesh ripping from bones,. fertilizing the concecrated grounds Myan style.
Don't want to follow, CHOP CHOP the Mayans were witnessed in deplorable ways to bring life to their lands. Creating a vast network throughout the continent of peoples heads on sticks or hung from trees.
Warning those who trespassed what would happen if their territories were broached. Collecting souls is a far more lucrative game.
Games of a cat chasing a one legged mouse. Fair game play? Not when your hungry. And how the vampirionos and vampirinas feasted. Never wanting for food. The fields of man's" hand to dirt, stuck in the mix of that days harvest.
Oh, "someone" who receives those harvests have gone mad, lost their minds and were institionalized, tied up in straps and buckles and thrown into padded rooms (for their safety, ha!).
No one is safe when the hunger strikes, no head, hand or heart is safe when its feeding time. And according the changes in season, the "fruit and vegetables" will soon to be ripe for feasting.
We pity only the sewer of the seed and make it a point to not avoid but protect those farmers the most. For without them we wouldn't have the "day-walkers" to feast upon.
Deciding what choices to is easy when everything is everywhere. Eat!.
Alas we ask you further enjoy these tales being told at vampirewonderland.blogspot.com
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