Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: ISOLATION ........... 12/31/13 Here's a good OUTER LIMITS type treatment you might like...

Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: ISOLATION ........... 12/31/13: The Russian steppes go on forever.... endless vistas of tussock and tundra... no trees... just horizon... a sea that doesn't move. Huma... Click on this and see the whole story. An eighty year old abandoned, moldering Stalinist research complex.... all alone out on the vast Eurasian steppes... Mother Russia has secrets... Oh, the vampire-oligarch, Grigori Usipov comes back too... Human-ape crossbreeds... Strange, tragic experimental victims.... 



Come and see... And if you want, scroll down, or click NEWER POST (down below) and read it all.



Some things never die...



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THIS TIME IT'S REALLY HAPPENING ... 6/24/14

They walked into the city. Red Paint People and heretofore unseen preternatural creatures from The New Jersey Pine Barrens.  Maybe from other places too. But around here, The Pine Barrens is like 'monster central.' Not 'monster.' I just said that for expediency sake, 'cause I wanted the words to flow. Witches are coming too. Mostly the 'trained' variety. Born witches are too iffy. You saw MALEFICENT. you know. Some might come, but I don't know who. 

Horsey Skeezix and Pin Head Mel run around the complex like maniacs.  They say they feel the vibes. The Jersey Devil kid also says whatever's going on compels him to eat buggers. Just his own. He thinks that makes it OK.  Doctor Franklin stays away from them. Luna, the vampire- physician watches them. She's not a physician for vampires, but rather a physician who later became a vampire. Does medical work for The Bureau. The Sea Hag (an old, gnarled mermaid residing in the strange specimen wing) loves her. They eat Creamsicles together. SeaHag dips her's in little pieces of minced squid and Luna spits hers out, but it's how they bond. 

Horsey Skeezix rocks back and forth and quietly chants - The Jew Vampire's comin' back. The Jew Vampire's comin' back..... Luna says - Stop that. It doesn't sound right. (she once loved him. not the jersey devil kid. tomas, also known as jonathon, the jew vampire, I mean). But 'Horsey' don't listen. Just keeps rockin' and cackling. Now it's easy to keep Pin Head Mel quiet. They gave him a big jar of Vlasic Kosher Pickles. He likes the salty, crunchy, vinegar taste. Sloshes it all over. But look. This is The anti-Enchantment Bureau. They got people to clean everything, even Bigfoot shit. 

So there was going to be like a flash mob. They'd never call it that. Edith would never use that word. She has a lot of words for it. But I think the one she'd pick would be 'affirmation.' This is gonna be an affirmation. Beings ... all types of beings, would show themselves out on the street and ask for Tomas' return. They'd ask for his restoration. People would see them. They'd see the Jersey Devil families and the slightly more gracile variant of Mid-Atlantic Bigfoot. Merfolk would swim up the estuary and congregate just off Penn's Landing. Red Folk People would chant their age old chants. Oh, it's gonna be a big thing. Probably a few vampires too. And I don't mean just the Philadelphia contingent. 

While inside, deep within the vast, subterranean 'clean room,' Doctor Franklin prepares his Grand Armonica... a huge apparatus consisting of a monumental polished bronze, horizontal rod supporting increasingly thick and impressive sparkling, crystal discs, the largest more than twenty four feet in diameter. Each carefully bored through the center like giant forty five RPM records. You know the classic baby toy with all the colored, plastic doughnuts stacked on a vertical pole? Well, that's what it's like, only horizontal. There's more to it. I'll get 'techie' some other time.

And on the other side of the spiritual bar, Tomas, also known as Jonathon, feels the pull. Each and every singularity of his being zings with a strange, new energy. It wouldn't be accurate to talk about atoms, because spiritual beings aren't made from atoms. But there is a non corporal cognate and thus we say 'singularities.'

Others notice. A woman sharing a small paper sack of roasted sunflower seeds with Johnny Carson says - Yo, kid (Tomas does look eighteen) what's the matter with you?.... Tomas just shrugs. He suspects, but doesn't know for sure. Dead people know a lot, but they don't know everything. 

Nor would they want to.

<more next time..... I think you can google Doctor Franklin 's Grand Armonica for more information>

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THE DEAD VAMPIRE OFTEN KNOWN AS TOMAS SAYS WHAT YOU CALL HEAVEN IS A VERY BUSY PLACE... 6/22/14

What you call 'Heaven' is a very busy place. Souls do not rest in peace. They work towards a divine ideal. They contribute towards the perfection of the universe. This world and your world mesh more than you know. Although I think some of you do know. We communicate with those still in the flesh. We share and suggest and cajole. We comfort the weak and distressed, instruct the curious and sooth the angry. Many attend to our voices. Some do not.

I am Tomas, also known as Jonathon and I am dead. My physical body is gone. The thousand year shell that served me well has become ashes. But my coherent essence endures. And I hear angels and see the light reflected from The Sapphire Throne. I see human souls plus spirits from other realms. Knowers Of The Lord come in many flavors. 

But I move among our own. Although centuries a vampire, I am and always have been human. Life-eaters (vampires) cannot renounce their nativity. Humans remain such, altered, but basically the same. And I  am glad.

Sometimes we travel. Souls fly off to witness creation, passing through alien worlds, dark voids out beyond the most distant galaxy and the terrifying, heart stopping grandeur of looming stars where even the 'dead' know fear. I also preach to the 'living,' but in a quiet way. I whisper as they doze. I comfort the aged dreaming over scripture. I say - The purpose of revealed religion is to make us better people. Worry not the details, but seek the warm, bright heart..... They gave me this job based on my life. I'm glad. 

God is not a lawyer. He never says - How did you imagine me? What form had I in your eyes? Which tales to you were truth?... Rather He says - What did you learn? How did it change you? What did you do? ... Jacob's Ladder bears many creeds..... I've said these things before...... But (sigh) I still want to go back. And not as a  re-born soul. I want to go as myself, wrapped in my memories and named the same names.

Does God allow that?.... Don't ask me. Sometimes I think 'yes.' But only sometimes..... I think rather He asks - Do you really need this? Does the firmament need you back?..... Some spirits say such concessions are made for little children, infants and toddlers torn from the world by sickness, accidents and hate. They say innocent small ones stuffed into steel walled, coffin-like ovens to be burnt alive in crematoriums meant for the dead were instantly freed from the flesh with the first spark, to be born again to surviving parents, should such people exist.... as were little, starving children and I mean truly starved unto death upon the broiling sands of Anatolia years before.... I'm sure there are other instances too. I know not all the details.

(whispers) I want to go back. I want to go back. I want to go back.... It's like I KNOW it's right. It's like I have no say in the matter. ... Souls here seem to sense that. They nod. I see subtle gestures. I see expressions... Beings of spirit and energy still communicate in physical terms. Maybe this is just Heaven's anteroom? Maybe that's why?

I see my brethren. Family. 'Flesh' from Al-Andalus... My mother. My father. My brother. Yet there is a wall between us, as if they know.... I am not long for this world.... Another polity claims me.

So I sit with Johannan, ever my faithful servant, as he was all those centuries ago when I was mortal. We drift, lost among the stars.... not looming, roiling giants, but soft, cool, distant lights. We pass through multicolored nebulae, gossamer clouds of worlds yet to be. Possibility is everywhere, as it has been since the beginning.  And before the birth of our universe there were others. When ours winks out there will be more. Indeed we have sister universes as we speak... some to the left... some to the right... Angles of incidence are infinite.

My friends in Philadelphia will do their 'dance.' Doctor Franklin and his people will do their thing. Edith and her contingent will do theirs. And I will be back.... not due to the dancers, but due to The Great Conductor Who makes the cosmos sing...

<more next time. please know this is a long running, on going story. if you like, google Johannon Vampire Wonderland by Billy Kravitz to learn more about that character, or contact me on Twitter at @wilkravitz and ask>

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DEAD VAMPIRE, TOMAS, COMMUNICATES FROM THE NEXT WORLD & HORSEY SKEEZIX & PIN HEAD MEL COME TO TOWN ..6/22/14

When they don't want to be seen, Jersey Devils have this thing they do. They swoop down low and follow the rivers skimming right over the surface. Nobody sees, 'cause it's so dark out there. First they traced along the Cooper River, then veered into the Delaware. Lights from the city twinkle off the wavelets, but that only creates more camouflage. Pin Head Mel saw the lights from one of the casinos by the water and wanted to go see. But Horsey Skeezix said - No.... Then he wanted to go to that big intersection in South Philadelphia where all the tourists go for cheesesteaks . Horsey Skeezix said they couldn't, 'cause Pin Head, unusual as he was, is still human, whereas full blooded Jersey Devils don't quite make the cut. So they turned right and headed toward The Navy Yard. Few folks on a thirty two foot cruiser out from the marina, drinkin' flavored vodka and eating seared tuna on little croissants (with fancy, homemade mayonnaise), might a seen something, but forty five percent of 'em were naked from the waist down and jumpin' around, so it don't count. Thirty four heartbeats later,  they came in over like a bulkhead, or fence thing and touched down in a private industrial quadrant where lubricated catheters are made. Due to automation and technological efficiency, not all the space is needed for navy stuff, so they rent some out. You know 'gimp?' Do your kids play with 'gimp?' Well, it comes from here. Nuclear submarines, gimp, catheters and brassieres. Something for everybody. And under it all was 'The Bureau,' a six level, subterranean complex one half the size of The Pentagon, plus here everybody has real nice, multi-colored lanyards. Some got two or three of 'em.

Now what with the underground center and all, the guards are used to strange things. One time, before she died, Ester Williams came by to have creamed herring with the merfolk. Brought two big jars she did... Guy from The Philadelphia Eagles brings new emerald green sweat suits every season. Frank Sinatra, The Beatles, Bob-Cat Goldthwait, kids from the Our Gang comedies; everybody been down there. Some still are. But they don't appreciate it when you stare.

Pin Head Mel likes riding down in the elevator. Lady with a yellow, gimp lanyard takes them. He makes eyes at her. She smiles. Somebody give Horsey Skeezix pair a white cotton gym shorts, 'cause he don't got none. Jersey Devils casual that way. Lady takes them into 'The Residence,' where doctor Franklin lives. He's sittin' in a Margaritaville Adirondack chair watching old, late night reruns of The Jack Benny Program. Most of the rooms are authentic, eighteenth century reproductions, but some are not. They got the Margaritaville Adirondack chairs from Shoprite Supermarket. Hundred bucks a piece, I think. Lady makes introductions. Doctor Franklin nods and says - What can I do for you boys?..... Horsey Skeezix gives him the old, plastic pill bottle with the note in it. Doctor Franklin unrolls it and reads. Then he sighs and goes - Well, well, well... and says - Miss Gingold, get these boys some corned beef specials..... But Horsey Skeezix says he don't eat no meat from animals what got hooves, 'cause that'd make him like a cannibal. So Pin Head Mel gets two corned beefs and the other one gets plate a fish tacos. 

Dead Vampire Tomas knows what's in that note and it makes him happy... relieved too. Look, he understands it's God who controls everything. But when He sees how much trouble certain segments of humanity are willing to go to to get him back He just might bend the rules...

<more next time>

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AS EDITH SAID A FEW NIGHTS AGO--- HERE'S WHERE WE HIKE UP OUR SKIRTS AND SHOW YOU MORE... 6/20/14

Now we speak of drama. Edith knew of events in Philadelphia. She's had a special relationship with Doctor Franklin for ages. He has 'talents' and she has 'talents.' That's just how it is. They both want to help Tomas. Magic finds a way. So she signaled to the two little snoops in the dark shadows of the midnight Pines. Horsey Skeezix (a juvenile Jersey Devil) touched his chest and said - Me?.... The witchy woman nodded... And Pin Head Mel too - she said. So they stepped out into the low, candlelight and approached the rustic porch. Edith wasn't worried 'bout Mister Edith, or their Red Paint People company. They were already sawin' wood after all that booze from those fancy little bottles. Like The Three Stooges they snored. 

Edith whispered - I got business for you two in Philadelphia... They stared wide eyed. Unusual and mythological juvenile beings from The New Jersey Pine Barrens love drama... special missions and all that. They love jaunts into the city too. If ever a place had a fantastical, storybook name, Philadelphia was it. Philo-delphia... City of Brotherly Love... Frank L. Baum couldn't create any better. Tiny, Center City streets with small, below grade shops straight out of Diagon Alley. Who needs hot, sun-burny, Florida amusement parks when you got this? Old, certifiably haunted, vast, dungeon-like ruined prisons... a museum of preserved, deformed oddities... and another one practically devoted to mummies... centuries old, ghostly (and still very much in use) theaters... If every place what goes 'bump' in the night went 'bump' at the same time we'd have gridlock. 

So she gave the little boy with the slightly equine face, glossy, chestnut, horse-like coat, soft, velvety bat wings ( they grew out of his back. the arms were normal) and well formed deer hoofies an old, plastic, pill bottle (empty, of course) with a little rolled up piece of paper inside. He put in in a small pouch worn 'round his neck. Pin Head Mel said - What do I get?..... Edith said - A free ride. You there to keep him sane. He likes you. He worries 'bout you. Now grab hold his neck and hop on just behind them wings. And fly. Fly all the way to Phillie-delphia. You off to see 'The Wizard!'.... Then she threw her arms up in the air and cackled. Not because it was necessary, but because level headed Edith likes a little bit of theatrics too sometimes. 

She watched as the strong wings whomped through the air. Soon they were off, soaring over the trees. Pin Head Mel in his quiet, little voice asked  - You know the way?.... Horsey Skeezix snorted and said - Yeah, I got family there..... He did, too. An aunt or uncle or somebody stayed with 'The Wizard' (Doctor Franklin, actually. Magic folk just call him that. Well, it's sort a true). All manner of creatures lived down there in The Anti-Enchantment Bureau. Jersey Devil ain't no big thing.

Soon he'd read her message. Doctor Franklin, I mean. She might have contacted him telepathically. He's 'adept.' He can do that. But rolled, little scrolls, even in old, yellowed plastic pill bottles, have a certain literary/cinematic quality and Edith is, at heart, a frustrated director.

A few moments later the witchy woman turned, went back and stepped up onto the porch, where she sat down in her high backed wooden chair and rocked.

Mister Edith and the two Red Paint People slept through it all, there in the dark, night air..... Crickets chirped. Lightning Bugs blinked. Edith yawned and fell asleep too.

Even magic folk need to rest.

And a certain twice dead 'young' man, Tomas de Macabea, also known as Jonathon ben Macabi, might not be that way for long...

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DOCTOR FRANKLIN TALKS ABOUT TOMAS' DESIRE TO 'COME BACK'... 6/18/14

It is I, Doctor Franklin. I sit in my commodious residence under the Philadelphia Navy Yard... a meticulous reproduction of an eighteenth century gentleman's house. The 'windows' look out upon digital images. Horse-drawn carriages pass by. Boys roll hoops and shepherds drive sheep. The breezes are recreations too. I see it all on a picture-book lane, winding down below in a little valley. Then, with a click it changes. The house is in the city and I see city things....  mounted troopers with plumed helmets and bright, silver breast plates.... vendors selling wares from large trays supported by thick, canvas straps 'cross their backs. Some sing songs... sedan chairs bearing matrons... bone wagons carting off the dead.... Yellow Fever plagued us then. The 'better' sort packed up and fled to summer houses in German Town. Indeed, I frequented many such places during my 'official' lifetime. But I've lived far longer than that. Those of you familiar with our tale (remember, we only pretend that it's fiction) know of my harmonic investigations. You know of The Anti-Enchantment Bureau (strange name) and our unusual work.

When he was here, Tomas contributed. We studied him, recording his every vibration and energetic effluence. He'd hang suspended in a web of sound generated by the Grand Armonica (you can google it) like a sixteenth century Italian painting. I have all the recordings ... every cerebral detail.... I know how he works. Actually, I could reconfigure a functional 'Tomas' quite easily. He'd be like a hologram... not transparent... not like a ghost... and under certain conditions you could touch him... but what you'd touch are only electrons.... Odd for me to say that when we know that the surfaces of mortal bodies are only electrons too... Is that how God creates us?

But the ether wants more than that. Tomas talks to me. He wants to come back for both superficial and spiritual reasons... That frightens me, for I am a reverent man. I question, but still believe. In my day I contributed toward and subscribed to all denominations in the city. Tiny brass plaques bearing my name decorate pews in various Protestant and Hebrew sanctuaries throughout the old quarters of Philadelphia. The Catholics, both Roman and Eastern were still unorganized back then, but had they been established my plaques would be in their holy places too and many more besides.

You know what happened in Russia? You know what we did for Grigori Usipov out beyond the Urals. I think if you google - Stalinist research center, Vampire Wonderland by Billy Kravitz, that might help clear things up.... I'll try it when we're done. If it doesn't, we'll post something else next time. 

Now in another vein, we raise escargot down here. So plump. So delicious. I'm eating some now... two dozen toothsome delights, rich with butter and garlic and something else. I don't know. The chefs do that. 

A lucid hologram of the great tenor Enrico Caruso sings my favorite, Nessun Dorma. Some friends, people I know from that Bilderberg thing are here. You can google that too.... Bilderberg Conference.... You'll see. 

You'll have to excuse me now. A certain American President, Emeritus wants to discuss world peace with a very well known Nepalese holy man. Perhaps I could help broker something? Doctor Kissinger gives me looks... He doesn't like competition.

They call us 'The Vampire Wonderland,' but we're so much more than that. 

Oh, how Voltaire would have loved this....

<more next time>

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SMOKE FROM A DISTANT FIRE ...musings on a night too hot to channel real strange beings.. 6/17/14

this is blue. the letters, i mean. blue is cool and no capitals, because capitals convey 'heat.' can't channel our usual paranormal vampires, zombies, ghosts and all. the temperature makes it hard to focus. also, i'm drinking so much iced tea, i run to the toilet every fifteen minutes and that sort of makes me forget where I am narratively..  i want cold vanilla almond milk and cereal...(this is where I take a break to eat some. you won't actually 'see' the break, but ~~>> (this) represents it.... i had two bowls... i asked the girl who works at the market if it's possible to let the water evaporate out of almond mild and reconfigure the residue back into little almonds. bet they'd be real expensive. i'd like to see a big almond made from marzipan.

they say it's possible other complete universes might exist so far out in the infinite ether that we will never see their light

they say it's possible the 'big bang' in another universe might have resulted in one massive planet revolving around one humongous <~~~(scientific term) star. any people on the planet would look out at a completely dark and featureless void. when they exhaust the resources on their home world...they die.... no space flight (where would they go?).... no God in the sky (unless it's the daytime sky maybe)... no asteroids... and what if life had never appeared on that planet?... do rocks have souls?

also, what if (in our world) science finds a way to essentially banish death via biological, or digital means? someone will be 'the last person to die.' will they be revered, or pitied? will some people opt for 'natural death' anyway?... got a feeling some science fiction author's got a 'take' on this.

do you realize there are many universal forces we can't even explain yet...dark matter... dark energy and all that... but, at least, they've been observed... what about the ones we haven't even conceptualized yet?...(i'm still waiting for 'gravity waves.')

in some ways ants resemble alien intelligence. is it possible on a certain level, either mind to mind, or perhaps via the hive/colony intelligence, to communicate with them? (also a good science fiction premise.... imagine the book and later the movie --- ambassador to the queen)

too hot... gotta sleep... probably drink too much iced tea first... hope that tower fan helps a little bit.

this is already wednesday. in three days it'll be June 21st, the longest day of the year (though not necessarily the latest sunset...different things)... summer, even with the heat waves, is such a special time. it goes so fast. no sooner here than over. you know stores like target already got them 'back to school' decorations ready to roll any day now. but no matter what they say, september is still summer too.

Lerner and Lowe were right.

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