WHO WROTE THE BOOK OF LOVE?

They watched. They all watched. Doctor Franklin and some of the gentlemen from the Anti-Enchantment-Bureau crowded in front of the screen. Papa was in the chamber. He was there with Baylah, holding her in his arms. And he hung suspended, occupying a spot in the ether approximately twelve feet above the petrified bodies of Sarah and the little ones. A mist eminated out from his body. Minute points of light sparkled within it. This seemingly living vapor settled upon every surface. It coated the elves and cherubs and dripped throughout the drapes and folds of Sarah's garment. And from somewhere far away, strange chords resonated up from the supposedly sleeping Great Armonica. They were in union, Papa and this unusual machine. The surfaces of the sleeping life-eaters glistened. Stone became smoother, taking on the appearance of skin. And in a series of tiny, baby steps the frozen ones were brought back. Baylah appeared to be sleepwalking. Yet her brows were knit together in deepest concentration. One of the agents left to check on the Armonica. Everyone else stayed just where they were. None dared move. Then it happened. Just a little movement, but you could see it. There, over to the left, toward the corner. One of the cherubs quivvered, much as a baby waking up from a nap. And then it began to spread. Others twitched, stretched and grimaced. Life was returning to the life-eaters. Sarah suddenly opened her eyes. She screamed. She sat up, quicly scrambling to her feet. Her breasts heaved, sucking in the superfluous oxygen. She looked around her and went to the little ones, helping them get up and find their bearings. Some of the cherubs cried. They were scared. She comforted them and they quickly began to flit about the chamber taking its measure. The elves, being more sensitive and astute, looked directly into the camera. Their large eyes filled the screen. And on the other side of that image, the people gathered 'round the flat-screen receiver started to cheer and clap. Doctor Franklin actually cried......Sarah looked up. Her eyes met Papa's. I could not tell what she thought. But he floated down to her, setting a groggy Baylah upon shaky feet.....And in another part of this underground compound, Jonathon bit into his companion. Was it her doing? Was it his? Were other hands at work? What difference would any of that make? A new vampirina was being born at the exact time another still new vampirina was waking up......How were they to reconcile this arrangement? One castle, one queen. But Jonathon/Tomas came from a time and place when castles had women's quarters, when castles had harems.  And a new form of courtly love spread out and settled upon our Philadelphia universe.....What was originally a 'line' was now a triangle. Can you follow, or is the study of romantic geometry a bit  too complicated for you?......

ZEBULON, THE SEER

What is that date the pagans make so much of? Oh, yes, I remember, the twentyfirst day of the last month of a year labeled twothousand and twelve. What a joke. All to end before anything  truly worthwhile is even realized. The babbling of carnival tricksters. If I was wont to share the truth with you (and maybe I am) I would tell you that change is coming, but end? No. Look to the life-eaters. Look to the true and noble (what an affectation that other spelling was) life-eaters. They will clear the path. They will devour the wicked. That is their purpose. And it has been sinnce The Beginning of the Chain. May no man know its source. Imagine, a world without hate mongers. A world without murderers. A world without hunger...of any kind.......The one we have all come to call 'Papa' is not perfect. Yet he is the vessel. It all comes forth from  him. Who knows? Maybe he will grow into the role......The Petrified One is made free. The one named for Sarah regains her true skin. Her eyes once more open to the world. Her soul, clear and Blessed. Yet at the same time, other interests gnaw through other walls. And a riival will be born..... Jonathon/Tomas is alert now. He sees the clothes. He sees the raiment of the one called Papa. And he makes a decision. He will do this thing. The Burden will be divided. A new helpmate will be born. He takes her in his arms. She smiles.... He kisses her. He says - Tell me your name......He whispers - I do not know your name.......He feels her heat. He feels her breath. He tastes her very life.... But all she gives him is a smile.......... Chose sides, my children. chose well. For all of you will figure in the outsome..................

I GOT THE COMPUTER! I GOT THE COMPUTER! ITS ME ITS ANNIE!!

this is not one of the real posts. they do not let me touch this thing. I tell them I will not break it. But those shit heads will not listen. wilkravitz is out eatin his pizza. And Zeke, the museum guard is moppin up pigeon shit from the marble floors. (I let them in through this little window I found). But I have been acting gooder. I do not know if it is because I want to be or if I'm just afraid Papa is gonna go POW, RIGHT TO THE SUN! again. I do not like that place. It makes me shit myself. Only I can't shit myself. Do you know I am going to be seven years old soon? Maybe they will make me a party. I could use some new Barbie dolls, 'cause my old ones have a bad habit of getting their heads stuffed down the toilet. We got a lot a toilets at this museum. Some of them aint been stuffed up yet. But I try to do my best. Papa is happy cause I aint bit tooes ooff any sleepin people in a long time. Zekes says its on account a him teachin me to smoke cigarettes. Papa did not like that at first. But Zeke said - What the hell do you care? It aint like she's gonna get cancer. Papa laughed. He said that I already got a bad disease...vampirism....But I dont feel sick or nothing. And I like the part about being able to go pffftt!! and pass through shit. Papa calls it sublamating. At first it scared me. But no more. I like going pfftt!! into the Kids Gap and boostin these really cute tops they got..  Some old bitch started chasing me once. but I turnned and cat hissed at her just as I went ppffftt!! through the wall and she peed herself. I like to make old bitches pee themself. That's one of the funner parts to bein a vampire. they got a lot a fun parts. I will tell you about some. But I cannot do that now, cause that wilkravitz son-of-a-bitch is comin back. I can smell the perreronis in his teeth. So lemme get out a here before he gets mad and I get in trouble with Papa...Besides. I got a few old Barbies I have ta wrap up in toilet paper so I can stick em in with the mummies. ( I leave the heads all naked). People comin through here laugh when they see that.  Zeke say I gonna give him anutter hearty tack.....Oh, oh, oh...he comin...

NIGHT DREAMS AND TRAVELS

Papa left the bed. none would know he'd been there. Jon/Tomas did detect a bit of a scent, but chalked it up to imagination. We all do that. We see things, or hear things....but...it's just our imagination. Yeah, right. Papa left the boudoir, but he remained within the complex, sublimating here and there. Learning things. There was a heated discussion between Doctor Franklin and a few of the other scientists. He wanted to shut down the Great Armonica. He said it wasn't safe and blamed it for 'amplifying' events in Japan. True, experiments pin-pointed certain harmonic hot spots. Yet no one else believed the rather baroque looking device capable of such a thing. But the Doctor knew differently. He felt the truth of it, even though he could not make them u nderstand. Oh, the conversations he used to have with Buckminster Fuller, the plans to reinvent the world. And the weekend  visits of Arthur C. Clarke were quite special too, for they involved not just the reinvention of Earth, but of other worlds as well. Papa smiled. How naive they were. How similar to their philosopher brethren in Atlantis and Lemuria. They'd experimented with 'gross' (extremely large and strong) harmonics too. Learned a lot, when you added it all up. Though they failed to control it. And the 'music of the spheres' did them dirty. You do not believe me? Then ask a Lemurian. Ask an Atlantean. Where are they? No, face the facts. Where are they?...Well, now you know. Oh, a few did manage to get out in time. And maybe they did influence cultures elsewhere on the globe. But that's not the same as surviving as a living entity. Did you ever hear of anybody studying Atlaynu in college? Do you get my point? It's a shame. The cuisine was truly flavorful.......I hate to say it, but the wispy haired old man was onto something. How can they ignore it? Imagination? Hardly....The central island of Honshu slid eight feet to the east. Not millimeters, as often happens after great quakes, but feet, EIGHT OF THEM. Do you know how close to the brink we were? Do you want to know?......Maybe science can't bring back the petrified life-eaters. Maybe it's too risky....But that doesn't mean Papa can't do it. He has other means. At first the Doctor envisioned a web-like conjunction involving his machinery in tandem with the powers of Papa and Baylah. Well, maybe the vampiric powers would be enough? Maybe they would have to be? Papa hovered (still in a state of sublimation) behind Doctor Franklin. He bent low and whispered in his ear. He said - Help is here. Stand your ground. Renounce the crystals (for now anyway) and their sound.....The venerable scientist slowly nodded. Where  did he think the words came from? I don't know. But he knew he'd heard them. And he understood that imagination had nothing to do with it.....Papa floated into Baylah's chamber. She slept, entangled in the invisible, magnetic web. He tickled her and he kissed her. She squirmed. Her eyes opened. She felt him. She felt every part of him. Baylah was sensative that way. He touched her mind. He said - Come with me. Then he moved his arms in the seemingly empty space around her and she was free. At first she started to fall. But he scooped her up. His energy travelled into her, as they drifted off to find the others. And somewhere in another room, Sarah saw a vision in her dream. The endless, gun-metal horizon was no longer empty. Two figures, tiny in the distance, were walking towards her. One was familiar. One was someone she knew. The other being was new. The other being was Papa. Then she heard 'laughter' and turned to see the elves and cherubs flitting about behind her...........A bit later, the young doctorix woke up to go pee. She saw Papa's clothing carefully folded over the chair. But she was half asleep and let the image pass...........Thus speaks Zebulon.....You heard these words from me.........

MAKE IT SO

As I told you on the twitter device, I am speaking to you tonight. Do I tap this out onto the machine? No. wilkravitz is doing that. I drift into his mind. So here I am, sitting in a rather comfortable chair, watching Tomas (remember, I always called him that) lie  in bed with his currently human pillow partner. She is a pretty little thing. I like the cast of her features, delicate without being severe. Her skin is nice too. Should I do it? Should I join this intimate get-together? Well, it seems I already am. Now I stand. Now I remove my clothing and place it carefully over the chair. I slowly pull down the sheet (ah, how sweet she is) and carefully climb in. Then I pull it back up. The three of us are covered. I snuggle up against her, with my face by her neck. I breathe in her perfume. She senses my exhalation. Her nose twitches. How cute. Now I can do it. I can take her. I can transform her. It will be neat. No blood will spill. Whoever changes these sheets will find nothing amiss. But should I do it? Should I take that task away from him. For I do feel that eventually he will do it. And she will join us in whatever domicile our family inhabits. So the homesick Andalusian, who often speaks of  his uncle's harem, finally starts one of his own. How smooth her back is. How perfect...all of it, down to the shapely legs. I hear the strange notes of the Great Armonica, like a chord eminating from the cosmos. Sarah and the children will awaken soon. I am sure of that too. It will be good to have the elves and cherubs back. I am truly sorry for what I did to them.....Could I go in there and return them with the power of my own mind? Perhaps.....Of course....But I will not spoil Doctor Franklin's fun. He is a wonderful alchemist, no I mean magician...no, no, no, scientist, scientist. I must become used to the popular terms. I must become used to so many things. Just because I've controlled a motor car and ape modern clothing doesn't mean I fathom all their ways. But I will learn. Shhhh, she feels my presence. She presses against me. She finds security. I will not harm her. I will not harm him. I will not harm any of them, even those comical Pineys and others they've come to love. Even Annie...my 'Little Bastard Annie.' Who knows, maybe the elves will civilize her?...........Let me listen to the sleep-breath of my Tomas. For is also dear to me as well....

FRIENDS AND LOVERS

Jonathon and the doctorix walked through the vast, underground compound. They checked in on the mermaid hag and gave a look to the rest of the unusual specimens. The Bigfoot and Jersey Devil creatures were sleeping. How cute the first one seemed all cuddled up in his sylvan, glass-walled habitat. Look, he's got a half eaten pigeon hanging out of his mouth, the hungry little guy. The doctorix checked the temperature, turned it up a degree and they left, heading back to their plush chamber in Franklin's quarters. Soon they were snuggly nestled in the big, four poster bed. Was it nighttime outside? Well yes, actually it was. But this place had to exterior windows, so que sera, sera. Jonathon/Tomas had fed a 'night' or two before and felt quite comfortable. They gave him some manic hate-monger from the larder. I think he was also a wife-beater. I forget what his specialty was. But Jon/Tomas relished the feast. His sweetie-pie watched. This might have been the second time he'd eaten since he'd been there. That, I do not know. Yet I can tell you this. When he was done, she went over to him. She embraced him. And quick as a wink, she licked the bloody residue from his lips. Hr did not like that. He did not like where this was going and he pushed her away. But the doctorix was determined. She would be the first 'home-grown' vampire in Franklin's employ. Oh, they had come across others. It was their blood which kept Franklin alive all this time. But she'd be the first one 'born' here. The guys in the black suits wanted it to happen too. Jonathon could feel that. So she kissed him and teased him in bed. And she did that little 'horsey-ride' thing she did. Well, this Andaluzian was not one to sit out interesting games. And he played them with the gusto his 'eightteen year old body' enjoyed. Later, when she whispered in his ear annd said - Give me a taste. Kiss me. Let me have it........He just flipped over and ignored her. How could he bring her over? How could he make another potential consort? How could he betray Sarah that way?.....If you were very quiet, you could hear the hum of the Great Armonica. Doctor Franklin often worked late. And he was making progress. Look, didn't he say he learned something from Baylah before. So Jon/Tomas had faith. He knew Sarah would be restored  to him. He knew the 'children' would be back. He knew it....But he also knew the other one 'sleepin' eleven inches away was not gonna give up her plans either. The two of them were so lost in their own vivid desires, they failed to 'hear' Papa sublimate into the room and artfully arrange himself in the big, wing chair..........

PAPA FLOATS THROUGH THE ETHER

Sometimes a dark, early spring night can feel colder and damper than a frigid, dry January midnight. But Papa did not care. Temperature meant nothing to him, so long as it stayed below the ignition point of human tissue. He was still comprised of that. So he hung suspended in the air just above the tallest tips of Number One and Number Two Liberty Place. Let me see. That would put him approximately eleven hundred feet off the ground. He liked it up there. The city sparkled like a set designer's model. He saw the rivers winding through the ordered chaos like gun-metal ribbons. And traffic noises rose up like muffled sounds from a damp forest floor. Heavy jet aircraft traced paths across the misty velvet. And he slept. He could do that. He could chose a spot and float there for ages. Well, so long as it's a spot where the sun don't shine. Papa drifted in and out of lurid dreams. But his internal recreations of past events were so vivid they were equal to time travel. Who knows? Perhaps that is what they are. Rome rules the world. The elite of the empire take their summer ease along the Neapolitan Shore in a sumptuous pleasure town called Pompeii. How Papa liked that place. They worshipped him there. OK, so it was really Baccus. But he was a good actor. And if they wanted Baccus, he would play that part. Ravishing the temple virgins was a special perk, one that he liked best. The  girls were quite special, the daughters of nobles. Some even the daughters of old patrician families. Each one eager to accept his embraces. True they were drunk first. Yes the drums and the flutes and the hoarse 'singing' drowned everything out.. In one corner of his holy site, old crones and old goats ripped live little kids (goatlings, I mean) to shreads. Did they use knives? No, fingernails. It was a religious ritual after all. Had to keep things pure and simple. Other revelers formed naked, human daisy chains, kicking their feet and squeezing their partners jiggly rumps as they danced and snaked their way through the hot, dense crowd. Some made the donation, in order to gain entry. And they kept their robes and clung  to the walls with their friends, pointing and laughing at the others. And Papa held court amidst it all. Oh, he loved his costume. What was it? A crown made of golden grape leaves and a matching torque. Divinity needs little else. The girls flocked to him. But socially ambitious matrons paid dearly for the honor. Not for themselves, but for their daughters. For as of late, the brides of Baccus were prized as wives among wealthy Romans. It was the fashion. And Romans were nothing if not fashionable.  So Papa melted through into a private sanctuary in the back, there to await his 'bride.' Giggling hands pushed the girl in.. The stupid, little thing should have been honored. They bathed her in the finest ungents brought all the way from Persia and doused her with the costliest Egyptian perfumes. What did the little bitch want? Well, I'll tell you what this one wanted. She wanted a seat next to God Almighty. She wanted a place among the elect. This one spent too much time fraternizing with Christians. Now this was before what came to be called the 'Protoschism.' Before all that trinitarian, unitarian brou-haha. So nobody knew what her lable really meant. Who cared. They could kill her anyway. Well, I guess you know where this is going. She starts crying and coughing and choking and pleading. She gets a knife (passed to her from a friend) and tries to slash her divine 'date's' face. But even though Papa wasn't a god, he was still miraculous. So what could she do to him? Nothing and that only made it worse. She starts yelling 'demon' and 'devil' and ...I don't know what else. Zebulon hates scenes like this. Then she raises the knife (everyone gasped) and plunged it into her own neck, bathing the sanctuary in blood...human blood...apparently a big no-no. People saw. Revelers knew. Everyone instantly sobered up and an eightyfive percent naked crowd of old, wealthy Romans went running out into the streets. They manically scraped at their skin trying to dig away the taint....That was it. Baccus was 'out.' No one lit his insense. No one said his prayers. Should Papa have taken it personal? Of course not. But he did. You know how moody he can be. And twelve nights later, Vesuvius errupted, burying the town in searing, noxious batter. Oh, it was terriblly wonderful to behold. The special effects were marvelous. Papa out did himself. The screams. The pain. The torture. The pathos. What, you doubt him? Remember, he was twentysix thousand years old even then. And vampires soak up power like a sponge. So now he wants to reassemble a 'family.' Yet make no mistake about it. He also means to be top dog. Could he even imagine anything else?...No.... Who's gonna be able to control him?.....Even a benevolent diety throws thunderbolts now and then.......Look, his eyes are opening. The wind ruffles his hair. He picks up the scent from the old shipyard and begins to float in that direction...........