IMMORTALITY IS A FLEETING THING---- Doctor Franklin Talks ... 6/30/14

He had a few of the ranking scientists in attendance over for chilled gin concoctions and conversation. Those in the speculative arts love to talk. And scientists are steeped in speculation. Indeed, the scientific theory itself demands it. Theory comes first and in a very real sense governs each and every subsequent step. We find what we set out to find, whether gun powder or God.

They sat in an eighteenth century salon.... brocade chairs... formal settees ... fine, fruitwood tables... handmade woolen rugs on oiled oak floors. A few are familiar with the place. Doctor Franklin's commodious residence beneath his storied 'Anti-Enchantment-Bureau is whispered about throughout the scientific/investigative world. Hitler sought alliance as early as '33, but the 'Bureau' ever a bulwark of new ideas and tolerance, only fed him lies. Most outsiders get half truths at best. Doctor Franklin was and is extremely particular that way.

He said - They're chanting along The Parkway. Some think it's a tie-in to Welcome America Week and all the Independence Day observances. But the young girls gathering outside the townhouse, beating ancient Celtic bodhrans and strumming classic Hebrew Harps are quite another thing. They drone on and on. They go - Tomas-Jonathon, Tomas-Jonathon, Tomas-Jonathon........... Another scientist went - Rah, rah, rah!........ Doctor Franklin said - No, this isn't funny. We have scientifically unacknowledged hominid primates roaming the streets. We have self described and in all honesty fairly effective witches working wonders outside coffee bars. And I don't know what those Red Paint People are doing.  You know how many out of town press people we have here this week?......... A different guest asked - Then why are you doing this? All the Grand Armonica posturing, entertaining as it is and all?........ Doctor Franklin sighed, thought for a moment and said - Because it's time. Because I want to. Look, I pressed for it in '47 during Roswell and all, but Truman wouldn't let me. Can you imagine, they 'changed' the story to a weather balloon!? I threatened to tell the Russians, or the French, anybody. But we didn't have our own dedicated reactors back then and he said he'd pull the plug. No, it's time. They have to know. Humanity, I mean. We inhabit a tiny part of an unbelievably immense cosmos. And not only that, we have abilities certain factions are desperate to stifle. No, this thing happens here. Extra, extra, read all about it, as they say....... Didn't you start that phrase back in your newspaper days? - someone asked.... Doctor Franklin studied him for a heartbeat or two and said -I started everything. Merlin to Washington's Arthur, if you will. There's a reason my picture's on the one hundred dollar bill. Those dumb bastards! Those God damned assholes! I should have been 'it!' I should have been the first!..... The Old Reprobate can get quite loud, bitter and vindictive at times.

No one said a word. A few nodded. Thank God for those chilled gin drinks. After a bit, a comely young girl, sent down from The Curtis Institute of Music began to play sprightly tunes on an authentic, hand painted harpsichord. Endearing Young Charms, I think it was. That calmed him down and he continued - Mortality is an illusion. We are all dead for eternity. We all live for eternity. Do you think when people pass to The World To Come, their still 'living' children aren't there with them, or that young, doomed children move on to a parentless reward? No, the Once and Only Diety responsible for all this is not so mean as that. Everything that is, was, or ever will be swirls through creation right now. We experience it sequentially because we're made that way.

Look, is your vampire friend, Tomas, really gonna come back? - a guest asked.... Franklin seemed to sink into himself. Then he nodded, grasped the arms of his chair and said - Yes. Maybe not in the same form. Maybe not in the same body. I don't know. How could I know? The basic principle is valid. You all saw the experiment with the goat. But I can't disregard the variables. You know his friend, the Piney 'witchy-woman' named Edith, says what I do here isn't even necessary. And she doesn't mean any disrespect. Just sure of her own talents and the talents of those around her. That's all. Magic-like science meets scientific magic. Come, my lords, ladies and gentlemen. Let's down these spirits and make for the 'clean room' ( large experimental space housing The Grand Armonica). We've a 'raising' to do.

So they did. The commodious salon was abandoned. The young girl at the harpsichord quietly gathered her sheet music and left. The domestic staff made quick work of any remaining spirits.

And the vampire, Tomas, also known as Jonathon, was already on his way... 

<more next time>

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A DEAD VAMPIRE PREPARES FOR BLAST OFF BACK TO THE LAND OF THE MORTALS ... 6/28/14

Please excuse my clerical skills. But I was never good with the ordenadoras or computadoras or whatever name you use to refer to them. That is why I got the Billy Kravitz to facilitate our communications with you. Besides, I am currently, legally within a heavenly state, or perhaps the vestabule one enters before passing on to the true heavenly state. 

The singularities of my spiritual being begin to tingle. I feel like a shaken bottle of Clicquot Club. The Old Woman used to drink it. Do any of you remember her? She hated Sarah, but loved Annie. But who cares, for she is dead now too (and permanently, I fear). I see her here dishing out hot lunches behind a steam table to formerly homeless dead gentlemen, who still apparently relish those things. She makes like she doesn't know me. I say - Hello, do you remember our chill, North Atlantic passage all those generations ago? Snow covered deck chairs by icy moon glow... how positively surreal..... She (who looks like Mrs. Beazley, the lunch lady in Archie comics) just chews the same huge wad of gum she's been working since she died and ignores me. Scooping out Beefaroni for eternity. My God, her apron's filthy.

I suppose, when the time comes and I re gain my mortal coil I won't be a life-eater (vampire) anymore. If so. If I am right, the first thing I'll do is go to one of those all-you-can-eat Chinese Style buffets and see what Billy Kravitz was always talking about. 

I hope they put me in a nice body and would very much appreciate it if the flesh in question still wears the same size clothes as I. Edith has them. They're packed away in the townhouse.

Why are they allowing me to return? It feels like they are. Am I worthy? Is this a punishment, or a gift? Whenever I pass close to an angel and ask, they just stare off into the distance and smile. 

Sometimes the thought of donning new flesh scares me... Sometimes I want to stay here, learn Sanskrit and become personal human relations muse to Angelina Jolie.

Sometimes I don't even know what I want...

<more next time>

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Bring Him Home ( 6/25/14)~~> THE RETURN OF TOMAS, inspired by ~~>, Les Misérables - Alfie Boe and the Mormon Tabernacle Choir

They tested it with a goat. Doctor Franklin hated to do it, but that's how it's done. They always test with a goat. He climbed the stair to a platform by the north end of the Armonica (his huge, harmonic device) and placed the small, neat, almost unicorn-like creature in the polished bronze casket. It bleated once or twice. No one made a sound. Pin Head Mel wanted to clap, but Horsey Skeezix leaned over and whispered - It's not a show..... The technical staff and agents assembled in the 'clean room' were familiar with it all.  Some of them helped formulate the procedure. But it was a special thing even so. Another functionary put something into the bronze casket at the south end. I think it was ambergris. The Anti-Enchantment Bureau has a relationship with the Lords of the Sea (the great whales) via the merfolk, so they get all the ambergris they want. When not engaged in medical investigations, Luna makes boutique batches of exceptional fragrances and perfumes with it. Various First Ladies of The Land and a few queens too covet the small, jewel-like bottles of 'Enchantment' (named after The Bureau) and 'Eventide' (recalling her adopted vampire nature). But we're talking about something different. The huge apparatus has to work. Movement from the flesh to the spirit and hopefully back again too must take place. So Doctor Franklin climbed down from the platform and took his place at the rather Jules Verne-like control panel. Large levers, looking more like fittings in old pubs and taprooms were adjusted and 'played' with a practiced virtuosity. All eyes were on him and the old reprobate enjoyed the attention. Indeed, he dressed for it. Gone was the emerald green Eagles attire... the sweatshirts during winter... the tee-shirts in the hot months. On this occasion, Doctor Franklin wore modern recreations of eighteenth century garb.... black, light wool knee britches.... fine, sea isle cotton stockings.... handmade kidskin slippers with brilliant, silver buckles and a white 'blouse' (that's what they called them then) to gladden the heart of any pirate king or weekending country squire.  Franklin was always vain. 



Back to the technical side ---- Soon the large, heavy, crystal discs (in graduated sizes) began to hum and turn... each kept moist by momentary passes through a shallow pan of specially formulated, super fine oil (also furnished by the whales). Rubber mallets, operated from the console, came up to 'kiss' the crystal rims and make them sing, giving out with a sound resembling  whale songs. 



Then everything began to vibrate, sending tickling undulations through all in attendance. Most enjoyed the sensation. A few giggled. And it's believed some unwitting people in adjacent parts of South Philadelphia got 'tickled' too. I wonder what they thought?



But those with keen ears heard the goat. The terrified animal screamed like a human baby. Steam rose from the ambergris filled, polished bronze casket at the other end and a few of those in attendance experienced involuntary acts of public urination, sometimes curtesy of a a too-close, giddy neighbor.



Seconds later the lights went out, not an electrical failure. The current was normal. But certain coordinated vibrations just do that. Ambient energy is transformed. That which was light is 'somewhere else.' Even Doctor Franklin doesn't understand all the details. A few members of the local clergy acquainted with The Anti-Enchantment Bureau have theories, however Doctor Franklin says we can't share them (now anyway) due to confidentiality agreements and other things. 



Then frost began to appear on the outer surface of the one with the goat inside. It was visible because the light was back. Not from any existing fixture, but from the air itself. Look, who knows? Maybe it wasn't from the air. Maybe it came from the 'ether,' that unknown, universal substance occupying every physical point and actually infinite in nature since there's no limit to how small each point can be. Soon after, the 'real' lights came on.... and an ethereal image of a small, neat, white, unicorn-like goat pranced out through the side of the polished, bronze casket set up at the north end of the Grand Armonica. Everyone gasped. Pin Head Mel clapped. No one corrected him, as the little animal 'translated' to another state appeared to bleat, though none could hear it. A few heartbeats later it tip-toed down the steps, walked 'cross the room and disappeared through a wall into a lunchroom or someplace like that. For an instant the 'clean room' was quiet, then everyone began to cheer. Doctor Franklin brushed away tears. He missed Tomas, also known as Jonathon, too. A lot of beings did. But now they knew. There was an excellent chance the much loved vampire would be back.



And the message from Edith, relayed by Horsey Skeezix and Pin Head Mel a few nights before spoke of events on the outside. Strange beings were beginning to assemble. Witches gathered in the Norman Castle-like, City Hall courtyard. Red Paint People began to walk the pathways of Rittenhouse Square, chanting songs sung since The Ice Age. And 'people' as yet unidentified streamed up from the subway near Sixteenth and Locust. I guess they rode the Patco Line in from New Jersey. Perhaps they came from The Pines?..... Elferinos and elferinas were seen flitting about the city too. Some cried. Some did not. All were serious. Regular, boring, plain humans didn't know what to make of it. Kids strolling South Street (where all the hippies meet) stopped representatives of the slightly smaller, more gracile, in from The Pines, Mid-Atlantic Bigfoot variant for autographs. But Bigfeet don't write (although they are known to scrawl doodles in the dirt), so what they got were mostly obscene representations of hominid genitals. But the kids didn't care. You know how kids are.



'War wagons,' industry jargon for TV news vans blossomed all over town. It was already on line. You could see it on You Tube, even Twitter.



Was it easy to explain? No... but it was real.



Tomas is coming back?



<more next time.... click on OLDER POSTS for parts of the story you may have missed>



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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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