Blah, Blah, Blah and Yadda, Yadda, Yaddah from Our Vampires In Jerusalem

OK, so we were able to reconstitute the three mini super stars. Bob Dylan, Yusef Islam (formerly known as Cat Stevens) and the Resurrected John Lennon are all back to normal size. Dylan claims we still owe him a couple inches, but that's yet to be decided (the Vampiric Court has to meet on it). They're putting together a song or something for You Tube. Yoko wants to be in it and she thinks she is, but our resident, vampire 'familiar' computer geek  says not to worry, 'cause he gonna splice her aria into six hundred and fifty two prints of Rise Of The Planet Of The Apes. Look for it soon at a multiplex near you.

But Doctor Franklin, back in Philadelphia, sent word to Jonathon and Sarah. The Anti-Enchantment Bureau picked up something (in addition to that not-so-funny, haistily conjured up case a hard to eradicate 'dirty cauldron crotch rot.'). It seems that the usual contingent of vampire haters are beginning to appear deep within the shadowy recesses of the Holy City. Do I know who they are? No, not exactly. But it's a safe bet they're drawn from some twisted remnant of The Inquisition, plus maybe some Dungeons and Dragons flunk outs and misguided 'knights' from The Renaissance Faire. Black robes, nerdy sneakers, greasy chinned louts gnawin' on crisp, fatty turkey legs...Shouldn't be too hard to find...... Still, they can inflict a certain amount of damage and inexperienced life-eaters have been known to fall prey. So the authorities here are warning all facets of el mundo vampirismo to travel in groups. Jonathon and Sarah mostly pal around with the REAL French knight, Jean-Michel. So far, they spend most of their nights trickling drops of their blood into chick pea vats of unsuspecting felalel vendors, in the hope that a bit of their essence will make it into the final product and contaminate hungry lovers of the tasty fried balls with an unexplainable desire for peace and brotherhood. And you know what?.....It seems to be working.

A few of the older, 'purist' types frown on measures like that. Change must come from within. No foreign substances, no vampire hokkus pokkus. They're the ones bankin' on the effectiveness of the Dylan-Islam-Lennon (in alphabetical order, as directed by their agents) You Tube thingy.

We lost track of Renate. (see? you must keep up with us...it's difficult enough funneling info from one dimension, let alone God knows how many, especially when a few of the nearest ones bleed into each other all the time). So if you happen to be in Jerusalem, or anywhere else on Earth, or perhaps in the two nearest parallel universes, keep an eye out for a smoky voiced vixen who looks like a really, really good (and not in the least transvestite-ish) Cher impersonator.

Who am I? Oh, stop it, stop it, stop it. You know who I am. I am Zebulon, your favorite disembodied spirit. Now stand still, so I can sublimate through you and give you a 'kiss.'

LONDON AFTER MIDNIGHT

I am not one of the voices you're used to. This one hails from London. This one has been here since the time of the aldwytch, during the days of the first anglo-saxon kingdoms. This one has tasted many things. Those responsible for this site have graciously allolwed me to speak. Conditions are bad. Tradesmen have shuttered their stalls. Those electronic screaming machines bolted onto police vehicles shriek through the night.

Vampires have stepped into the breach. God, how I hate that word...not 'breach,' but 'vampire.' Ignorant peasants lied to by unwashed, small-minded clergy gave us that name. We are not in league with evil forces. We are not demons or monsters. Let me explain it to you this way.....If 'mortals' be the sheep, we may not be the 'Shepherd,' but we are certainly His 'sheep-dogs.'....

So keep an eye peeled (if you reside in London or other effected townes.)....Who has suddenly dissappeared? Did anybody see a strange, blue, flame-like light?....Shhhh....just stay off the streets...Do unto others as you would have them do unto you....and, oh yes...dare I say it?...Well, I will. Take a tip from the Book of Leviticus and 'Love thy neighbor.'

I must be off. Must sublimate up to Manchester. There are black hearted villains who need culling, vigalantes who spout 'good' but yearn for evil. Not my favorite meal, but we all must do our part...'Fight on the beaches' and all that....Cheers...and hope for the best.

Thank you for this opportunity. Your regular 'life eaters' will be here soon.

THE RESURRECTED JOHN LENNON, YUSEF ISLAM (Cat Stevens) AND BOB DYLAN GET TOGETHER

I didn't even know we could do this, but a vampire woman from Australia (in town to visit her ailing, mortal mother----- it seems the woman wants to expire within sight of the Garden Tomb) showed me how. Granted, true magic depends not on hokkus-pokkus, or other extravagant fandangos. You know that. We've discussed it already. Real power is just that...power. No toads. No chants. No dramatic hand gestures. You just imagines it and it happens. True, the focusing part can be a bit difficult, but certain simple mind exercises help with that (staring into a flame, or stroking a dog, or knitting a sweater even).

We met in the lobby of a hotel. I went in to buy a copy of Vogue for my consort and the latest issue of GQ for myself. It is I, Jonathon talking. And you know how much I desire to 'cut' a fashionable figure, what with my fine, black leather bootkins and all the rest. Blame it on my formative (human) years in Al-Andaluz (the south of Spain to the uninitiated). Do you think a culture responsible for the production of  'trajes de luz' and castanets could do otherwise? Maybe it comes from being here, in Israel, deep within the busom of a completely Mediterranean environment? Sixty percent of the Hebrew population stems from Sephardic roots. They are the children of exiled Spaniards, filtered through the fine, filigree artwork of Moorish lands. The Russians, Ukrainians, Poles and Germans get all the publicity, but the heart of The Homeland comes  from us.

But permit me to get back to the Australian woman. She was very new, maybe three or four years spent in darkness at the most, though her magical abilities were older than that. I'm told she has Aboriginal blood. I'm told she's wandered through the 'dream-time' with deeply talented shamans in the Northern Territories. Some here in town claim she's turned away hurricaines (please don't ask me what they call them in the antipodes) and peered through the eyes of salt water crocodiles.

She came over to my table in the coffee shop. I often linger over a cup, not for the hot, flavorful liquid within, but rather for the intoxicating aroma tickling its way up into the ether. She pulled out a chair and sat down. Very selfconfident, these Aussies. I looked up from a piece on grooming for the executive suite and met her gaze. She smiled, drawing me into her smoky eyes and binding my soul (for a while, at least) to her own.  She knew of our labors and of our meetings with other Holy Land life-eaters. She knew of our efforts on behalf of Israel and Ishmael and  our hopes for The Great Reconciliation. Two distinct, kindred principalities shining out from The Land Of Abraham. And she had an idea. I followed her lead and looked down into my cup. And there, swimming (or treading 'water' actually would be more like it) were three tiny individuals. One was the resurrected John Lennon. One was Yusef Islam. One was Bob Dylan. It was hard to recognize them at first with their hair all slicked back from the thankfully now rather tepid brew, but the Australian 'adept' helped me. I saw what she saw. I knew what she knew. So when she took the stylish ceramic vessel in her hands and walked out of the carefully decorated place, I followed , careful to throw a hundred shekels or so to the teenaged cashier before exiting into the soft, fragrant Judean night.

I had secrets to learn, inborn abilities to discover and miracles to perform.......

<if you like this portal, please click NEWER POST at bottom of entry or simply scroll down, if your page is set up that way> THE GREAT RECONCILIATION...two kindred principalities. Wouldn't that make their father (Abraham) happy... and his Father too?>

BLACKIE MAKES A MIDNIGHT DISCOVERY

So we gotta be tellin you bout two streams a the same river. One trickle gonna be bout Jonathon and the other Save the World life-eaters over in the Promised Land. The other one gonna drip through the mossy, leafy mellowness of Philadelphia's finer suburbs, as witnessed by that sexy, little vampirino dude known as Blackie (or Blacky...we disembodied spirits do not spend to much time worryin' bout New World spelling conventions).

By now we know that Jonathon has made a little side trip back a few millenium to witness the placing of the True Ark of The Covenant into a crypt-like vault far beneath the surface of The Temple Mount. OK, so maybe he was only there in spirit form, but he seen it just the same. And you wanna know what IT looks like? Well, go click onto some site showing the movie, 'cause it appears that Speilberg's prop designer got it exactly right.......and it is STILL there, glowing with a rich, gold light, under aeons of dust and debris.

Now it  would be mighty simple for him to round up a group a relic-diggin fellas (I think they calls em archeologists) and juss go dig it up (he is back in our time, after all). But true religion ain't always as straight forward as that. Moslem fellas are also lookin for The Hoofprint of the Steed, left by the blessed horse charged with bearing The Prophet Mohammed up to Heaven from the self-same spot. Trinitarian searchers (some of em anyway) hope to find a few cups and serving pieces left over from the Last Supper stashed away in some first century c.e. china closet. And a bunch a spiritual treasure hunters might destroy one divine gift just to find another.

The Resurrected John Lennon said (when he heard about it) - Why can't they all consider their relics to be 'found' and call it a day? What do they want, a bunch a knick-kacks and decorative items, or ideas? ...........That sentiment did not go over with the various religious leaders, for a trophy is a trophy after all....and maybe sometimes a little bit of an idol too.

But  the vampires gathered in Jerusalem are kept busy raising souls from near-death (via tiny blood gifts) and are quite happy to do so, even if about a dozen or two ersatz messiahs are swooshin' around town (homespun robes swoosh quite nicely) takin' the credit. You may have seen a few of em on Night Line and other fine programs. Still, people ain't dyin' in the Name a God and that, in itself, is a good thing. All this attention has also boosted sales of exported hummis quite a bit, so look for some at a supermarket near you...

Meanwhile, back in some cozy, red-brick, jewel box of a shopping district on The Main Line, Blackie is doing the naked macarena with a little, nubile young thing in a 'pocket park' behind a Yankee Candle outlet. She doesn't know he's a vampire, although she does think he's a bit strange, like maybe a Canadian, or a Jehovah's Witness or something........But what's so unusual about that? He plays games like that almost every night....The only thing is...at the end...after the big pay-off...when he went to bite her (a little), what came out was not human blood.....Well, not exactly anyway...

SHUT UP AND CALL ME 'BLACKIE"

I don't WANT you to know too much about me, but I felt like contacting you just the same. Your 'friends' from Philadelphia are still on their Magical Mystery Tour over in Jerusalem. Who knows? Maybe they will manage to save the world? Me, I'm a bit more pragmatic. Gimme a plump, juicy arse to bite and a tight, little pice a pussy-cat to have fun with when I'm done. That's all I ask. Who am I? How old am I? who 'turned' me? The hell with that crap. Who the hell cares? I goes where I wants to go and I slurps up what I wants to slurp up.

Don't expect to find me in Center City, Philadelphia. Them what circles around Jonathon and 'Papa' don't exactly fancy me, so I stays outside the city proper, haunting the older, leafier, mellow suburbs. If you're ever out that way, give a look in the wee hours up and down some disserted, l'il, red-brick shopping district. You know, like the one they got over on Germantown Avenue near where the 'Papa' tribe camps out. (but I can't go there, 'cause them digs is in the city).

It's not hard scaring up a meal. All I gotta do is make with the silent howl and pull in a dinner. Some sleepy, little sweet birdie comes shufflin' down the lane, clutchin' her coat over her scanties and I got me my main course. Like callin' out for dilevery! Does I kill 'em? Well, that's for me to know and you to find out. So mind your own bees-wax  and just be glad I don't give you the little touch. (although, them that lives do tend to like my little touch)

Still, that Jonathon and his lot did share some spot on information. We of the 'night watch' can make with the crotch tango whenever the fancy hits. All parts are exquisitely preserved. All parts are in proper working order. So keep an orb peeled for a firm, little Elvis-haired, rocker boy who tends to frequent out of the way bennches and dark doorways. Sometimes I whistles 'I Can't Help Falling In Love With You.'......And I usually, sorta, really, kinda mean it too. Only seven and a half weeks till fall. I likes the fall...long nights...chilly breezes...lonely goth girls (remember Morticia?) searchin' for a bit a magic. Lucky for them, I am quite the magician.......

So, watch the moon and smell the breeze....

See the leaves fall off the trees.

Hear the geese tear 'cross the sky

Come to play, to dance, or die.

Ooooh.....I can smell you already......

Tell me about yourself. Leave a comment. Ask a question. Share a secret.....Shhhh.....Shhhhh.....Shhhhhh

VAMPIRES AND ALIENS

Just as our magnetic field protects us from cosmic radiation, our native contingent of vampires protects us from aliens. those pesky off-world low lifes have been trying to mess with hoomin beans forever. But the vampires resent that, since they're the ones with a God given right to pester us. I suppose they view those bug-eyed fiends as cattle rustlers or something. I mean nobody likes a neighbor dippin' his net into their koi pond.

So the next time you see a vampire, thank him, because, as we all know...HOW TO SERVE MAN is a cookbook!!

Also, the vampires don't want me to post anything tonight, because you ain't readin' it. They used to draw between 150 and 500 hits/day (one day 1,350!!!) but now it's down to ....well, I can't say it, because they're lookin' at me and I don't want 'em to cry. Boy are they emotional. But see for yourself. Look at the 'hit counter' at the top of this page. It's registered over 14,300 page views.....They think an evil enemy threw a hoo-doo on us. Doctor Franklin and his crew at the Anti-Enchantment-Bureau are looking into it.

Even such reliable vampire allies as 'the princes of the seas'....(the great whales) are concerned. Only the mermaid hag (currently a guest of Doctor Franklin's) is happy, but she crazy to begin with.

Come on. when  you were kids you clapped for Tinkerbell. Throw a little love our way. Click onto a few posts. Get your little buddies to click on too.

We know it's July and everybody's on vacation, but leave them Eastern European - summer-workin' gals ('specially in shore towns) alone for a minute and say hello to some old friends.

And since it is obvious that you are saying 'hello,' or you couldn't be reading this...say 'hello' a few more times and hit some more pages........Thank you for your support

EVEN VAMPIRES FEEL THE HEAT...and the 'end' of the world and all that

The sweat glands of the average life-eater still function. Every part of their bodies operates just as it did at the instant of their transformation. Each tiny cell does its duty. True, oxygen is no longer an addiction. Now it's just a habit. That's why the elves and the cherubs are presently swimming  with the fishes in Philadelphia's surprizingly clean, Delaware River. The cool dark water feels so good. And so what if a weird guy on the thirtieth floor of Society Hill Towers snaps pictures through his telescope of strannge, white, naked children cavorting amongst the wavelets? Who the hell cares about that? Every public fountain has morphed into  a defacto wet t-shirt contest. And somme a those 'contests' ain't even using t-shirts.

Doctor Franklin had the guys over at The Anti-Enchantment Bureau up the air conditioning in the Bigfoot and Jersey Devil habitats. I don't have to tell you how those hairy bastids stink in the heat.

Back at the house (vampire central) in Chestnut Hill, Papa and Luna put off their monthly feeding (which happened to be synchronized this month), because the thought of a stomach full of ninety-eight point six, streaming human blood loses a bit of its allure when the sheets start to get damp.They can kill a few nasty humans next week. What's the big deal?

And over in Jerusalem? Well, let's just say that a certain 'king' of all relics  does not rest hidden away in an immense governmental warehouse like we all thought. Remember Indiana Jones? Imagine, the only artifact wrought by the Hand of God.....and it's genuine too...

Maybe that's what's causing Doctor Franklin's Great Armonica to hum like that?

What's that day they're all talking about...March 21, 2012?.....Well, all I have to say is Scotosh Beedosh, y'all...