Showing posts with label Jersey Pines. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jersey Pines. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 11, 2017

JONATHON GOT A BIG PIMPIN' PAPA - Meat Loaf - You Took The Word's Right Out Of My Mouth (Hot Summer Night)

 

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Jonathon speaks -

The manipulation of reality can be a very iffy thing. Some adepts are, in a sense, natural illusionists. You might live in a crystal palace and spend your days amidst cool, bubbling fountains, surrounded by a lush, fragrant garden. Winged nymphs might flit through the air and the kitchens give forth the most succulent and savory delights. Celebrities and aristocrats glide through the pool like dolphins, as dead rock legends serenade. Yet after a time that varies with the practitioner it all begins to fade.... The film people disappear from 'round the pool... The savory delights seem markedly less succulent... And there's a nebulous cloud where the Louis XV salon used to be, that sometimes smells from rancid tuna fish.... Nebulous clouds become the norm. They fill the void. They fade away and there you are, just as you were before it all started.

That's what Pow Wow magic is like. Oh, a few of them can do better, but most conjure things of a transient nature, sometimes for a year and a day, sometimes for a flickering instant. Believe me. I'm familiar with all types of enchantment. Yes, I did panic when the Talks-To-God man first ensnared me. The initial sense of floating in nothingness was terrifying. 'Papa,' my creator, the one who brought me over and made me a vampirino is a virtuoso of nothingness conjuring. His favorite is an endless, perfectly flat and featureless, completely dark metallic plain... no sound... no light... no sensory input of any kind. The victim walks and walks and walks ... hoping for a change... praying for a change... but it never happens. They lie down. It's difficult to lie down and get comfortable on a hard, metallic plain with absolutely no 'give.' It's even more difficult to get up. Knee bones grind against bare metal.

'Papa's' magic never fades away. You see, he doesn't just manipulate perceptions of matter. He changes the basic truth of it. Sometimes he has pity and makes it stop. Other times he forgets. A few unfortunate victims have been suffering for millennia, unless they find a way to shatter their skulls against that hard eternal surface.

Though the Talks-To-God man was not that powerful. So, I pulled myself together (vampires can focus and more or less 'tighten' the atoms of our bodies) and saw through the illusion to the reality of his dimly lit cave. My eyes cleared. He noticed. I could see the surprise in his eyes. Then I wiggled my toes. He knew I no longer thought they were held fast in the clay floor. He knew I was free. I smiled and gestured for him to lean in. Talks-To-God was scared, but he did. I pulled him toward me and bit a nice, little schnitzel out of his right cheek. He screamed. How the blood poured. His molars were exposed. I spit the flesh into the small fire. Vampires only take 'live' circulating blood. He held his face and watched it sizzle.... Then I stepped passed him and slid down that narrow greasy tunnel into the death pit, splat, right into the mud. The two condemned young men shrieked and pressed back against the inward sloping walls. I dropped down from a hole up above. Place was shaped like a big, hollow, chocolate kiss. They couldn't tell what happened. The darkness down there was no illusion. It was real. Everything wet and warm... all clay and mud and big, slimy slugs. They didn't know what I was. Now I went into the Pines to rescue one of the young men.... 'Young men'..... Everybody says 'young men.' They were boys. I hate when the army calls some poor eighteen or nineteen year old kid, even the one's in their twenties 'men.' They're dead. They were kids and they're not supposed to be dead..... I clicked on this little ninety nine cent l.e.d. flashlight from the dollar store... They both shrieked again.... I said - Who's Fred?.... One said - Me. I'm Fred. I am.... He trembled. It was too warm down there to shiver.... I said - Your dad sent me to get you..... Take me too? - went the other one.... I go - All right. Get up. Stand up... No way I was going to leave him. I grab one in each arm, say - Close your eyes and hold on tight... Then I vaulted up and sublimated through the mud and rocks and dirt to the surface. When vampires sublimate the aura radiates out from our bodies. The boys would be safe. If I solidified in a grove of trees, they'd be dead. But I knew there was a clearing by the entrance... all pounded down dirt where Pineys and Red Paint People dance sometimes, so I angled up that way. Once our atoms all settled down the boys coughed and wheezed a bit, but that didn't last too long.... The one called Fred asked if I was a vampire. His dad was a 'familiar' of mine... handled money, investments and finances. Maybe his son heard something? I don't know.... I smiled and said - What do you think?..... He saw the fangs, but then he was OK. The other one never said a word... I went - Look, I'm going to sublimate again..... What's 'sublimate?' - asked Fred..... What we just did. Are you two all right with that?.....They nodded..... So WHOOSH, we were off again. I can sublimate through air molecules. It's like flying.... Took them to the roof of a Target store on the Black Horse Pike closed for the night. Told them to wait here, as if they were going to go somewhere. Then I sublimated through the roof and came back with a bag full of fresh clothes and underwear... even a pair of  'Chuckies' for each. I'm a good judge of shoe size. You know how particular I am about my trim leather bootkins?.... Gave them each a few twenties and called for an Uber to pick them up and take them back to Philadelphia. Guy met them at a little diner. Most cell phones get all screwed up after a couple sublimations, but Samsung, I think it is, makes a special one for the vampire trade. Works great.

It felt good to use my powers. I haven't really let go in a long time.....

Hey, I'm not 'Papa's' son for nothing.

Jonathon ben Macabi a.k.a. Tomas de Macabea says goodnight.....

<more to come>

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Tuesday, September 6, 2011

EDITH, A VAMPIRE FAMILIAR SHARES SOME WISDOM

This is Edith. I'm sitting on the porch of a snug, little,clapboard, farmhouse deep in the Jersey Pines. It's dark. It's damp. It's chilly. My kind a weather. Could stay out here for hours, just rockin' back and forth, listening to the whispering mist. Got a hand knit sofa throw over me to keep warm. Thought I heard a 'devil,' a Jersey Devil, shuffling through the brush a few minutes ago. Smelled like a female. I got a sharp honker. I can pick up those things. Bud, my husband (yeah, I know. I never spoke of him) is inside clickin' back and forth between some baseball game and a decorating program on HGTV. I can hear it. 'The transformation is nearly complete.' Boy, I wish it was that easy. Am I gonna go back to the place in Chestnut Hill? Well, yeah, I guess so. Only sometimes I need the quiet, old timey silence of The Pines. Juices me up a little. Gets the magic flowing.

I know what Jonathon and the others are trying to do in Jerusalem. Papa tells me. I pick up things on my own. And they are sincere. And they do believe in the basic goodness of humanity. But I know folks who believe in Santy Claus and they still gotta fork over two dollars and ninety-nine cents every time they chew on an el cheapo meal from Burger King. Santy Klaus ain't never once opened his wallet. So you will have to excuse me. I have grown a bit cynical where religion is concerned. Not that I doubt the existance of God, but I'd like to see Him pick up a check every once in a while. And then you know what's funny? A little later, when I go inside to sleep, when I lie down in bed and get all comfy, I'm still gonna say my prayers. Not out loud. Not  so anybody'd hear them. Bud snores anyway. And those Red Paint guys we got squattin' down the cellar got their own kind a heebie-geebie business going on. They dont care what I believe. No, I take that back. they do care IF I believe, just not about all the razzle-dazzle, glitz and tassles I tie all over it. Maybe they should go over to the Middle East. and not just the Middle East too, if you know what I mean.

'Beauty is as beauty does.' That's what my mom always said. And she could fry an egg just by lookin' at it. She was a hum-dinger of a pow-wow woman. She knew lots a stuff. She was right. It ain't hard. All's we gotta do is start doin' beautiful stuff. Brighten the corner where you are. I suppose that puts me in the 'micro' minded camp with Baylah. But, then again.....I ain't in Jerusalem.

You know that dream is still goin' 'round. The one about 'I am the Unity...,' I mean . Trouble is.....some folks think it's a nightmare. They like their biases and they ain't ready to give 'em up.....

Now, be quiet. Don't make any noise. Maybe that little Jersey Devil filly will come back.....And after the summer we had....don't that cool air feel nice......'Potential.' The people inside  on HGTV are talkin' about potential.. I can hear 'em...Yeah, well....we got a lot a that.....
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