Posts
j
What more can I tell you of violence? How many ways are there to destroy mortal or life-eater flesh? We have described all manner of death. People seem to like that. Most of what appears here is and always has been true. But occasionally and only occasionally I tell you lies, not because I want to. Because you want me to.
This time I speak with veracity. This time, he who you know as Jonathon ben Macabi, or Tomas de Macabea details actual realities and events. You've heard how vampires walk through the deep, dark, oceanic abyss. We cross the cold and silent seafloor and climb mountains never privy to the sun. Some stay down there for years and years and years and years, drawing periodic blood gifts from the great and lesser whales. Thus we passed between continents in ages passed, before men first built ships. Some still travel that way. Others have reached their destination and stay there, down beneath the sea. They speak to the whales and understand the minds of forever hidden strains of wise, all knowing octopi and other cephalopods.
Vampires need not breathe. You know that. He who makes the universe (the job is never done) quickens us according to His will. Confuse them not with Merfolk. Our kind have no cetacean flanks or tails. But some of our kind have filled this subterranean niche for eons. We climbed up onto the beaches of Atlantis and in Lantima, the language of that realm, whispered secrets to the priests and priestesses in the Temple of El. We've seen the doomed from the Titanic rain down.
So I must ask ---- Do you really think that creatures such as we are only lurid horror villains? Look, as I've said (and we're both aware) there's a whole industry based on that. Believe their lies, if you like. We don't control you mortals. We just guide you.
Now I go out to enjoy the last hours of a cool, autumn evening. Damp, too, just the way I like it. If you know me, nod. I'll nod back. Look for the tall, trim vampirino with the vaguely Spanish features. Some know me by my long, lose, glossy black hair. Some by my well made, black bootkins, close tailored jeans, white shirt and rather form fitting leather jacket. Save the shirt, all dark as midnight. Others know my kiss, or my bite. I don't kill everyone.
I wander museums, haunting the dim, shadowy galleries. You see, I remember when Giotto painted that and knew the nobleman who wore that armor. I met enamoradas under cloisters much like those.... I remember and it comforts me.....
Then just before the dawn, I walk back to the townhouse and hide. Do I sleep?... On and off.... There are those who know how to contact me on line. Some leave comments here. A few know my secret place.
Hasta la proxima, mis amigos... Hasta la proxima...
(with that, he exits, as the great clock, atop Philadelphia's City Hall Tower... much higher and wider than Big Ben.... chimes six).
click TIME ... to see more Vampire Wonderland.
click SHARE ... to join me on Twitter.
thank you.
What more can I tell you of violence? How many ways are there to destroy mortal or life-eater flesh? We have described all manner of death. People seem to like that. Most of what appears here is and always has been true. But occasionally and only occasionally I tell you lies, not because I want to. Because you want me to.
This time I speak with veracity. This time, he who you know as Jonathon ben Macabi, or Tomas de Macabea details actual realities and events. You've heard how vampires walk through the deep, dark, oceanic abyss. We cross the cold and silent seafloor and climb mountains never privy to the sun. Some stay down there for years and years and years and years, drawing periodic blood gifts from the great and lesser whales. Thus we passed between continents in ages passed, before men first built ships. Some still travel that way. Others have reached their destination and stay there, down beneath the sea. They speak to the whales and understand the minds of forever hidden strains of wise, all knowing octopi and other cephalopods.
Vampires need not breathe. You know that. He who makes the universe (the job is never done) quickens us according to His will. Confuse them not with Merfolk. Our kind have no cetacean flanks or tails. But some of our kind have filled this subterranean niche for eons. We climbed up onto the beaches of Atlantis and in Lantima, the language of that realm, whispered secrets to the priests and priestesses in the Temple of El. We've seen the doomed from the Titanic rain down.
So I must ask ---- Do you really think that creatures such as we are only lurid horror villains? Look, as I've said (and we're both aware) there's a whole industry based on that. Believe their lies, if you like. We don't control you mortals. We just guide you.
Now I go out to enjoy the last hours of a cool, autumn evening. Damp, too, just the way I like it. If you know me, nod. I'll nod back. Look for the tall, trim vampirino with the vaguely Spanish features. Some know me by my long, lose, glossy black hair. Some by my well made, black bootkins, close tailored jeans, white shirt and rather form fitting leather jacket. Save the shirt, all dark as midnight. Others know my kiss, or my bite. I don't kill everyone.
I wander museums, haunting the dim, shadowy galleries. You see, I remember when Giotto painted that and knew the nobleman who wore that armor. I met enamoradas under cloisters much like those.... I remember and it comforts me.....
Then just before the dawn, I walk back to the townhouse and hide. Do I sleep?... On and off.... There are those who know how to contact me on line. Some leave comments here. A few know my secret place.
Hasta la proxima, mis amigos... Hasta la proxima...
(with that, he exits, as the great clock, atop Philadelphia's City Hall Tower... much higher and wider than Big Ben.... chimes six).
click TIME ... to see more Vampire Wonderland.
click SHARE ... to join me on Twitter.
thank you.
