Last night I shared my plans. Tonight I will tell you more. I can tell you everything, for idiots deem it all to be fiction. Let them. You and I know the difference. And what is political fiction but thought experiments shared with the masses? Look at North Korea. Do you honestly think your leaders aren't toying with the idea of 'regime change.' My God, what a euphemism that is. The Round Heads in seventeenth century Britain only wanted a 'regime change.' The fact that it required a brutal sawing off of the king's head was just incidental. Well, governments do a lot of incidental things. I'm Doctor Benjamin Franklin and I know. Right now, at our Pocono Mountain annex to The Anti-Enchantment Bureau we have a cadre of shining stars ready to go into action. And few people suspect, let alone believe what goes on under the rolling hills and baby mountains of north-east Pennsylvania. I know Billy posted a series of episodes about the vampire academy attached to Topkapi Palace during the salad days of The Ottoman Empire and how these cosseted 'biological weapons' were polished and honed till they became alluring, irresistible killers. Well, I am doing the same thing. It's basically a very facile maneuver to insinuate a properly trained vampire with a trusted aide. They have interns, pages, assistants, all manner of fresh, young things. The leader notices and takes the new arrival under his wing. Then one night, while going over routine correspondence at whatever they call their Camp David, or soon after during a 'rest' period, the deed is done... a discrete love nip, but one that goes on a little too long and the troublesome foreign potentate is bear grease... You know, the sticky residue left over after all the blood is gone and the, as yet unexplainable 'cool' blue flame does its work? No body. No identifiable DNA. No nothing. And the vampire assassin disappears too. No one takes credit. It's never mentioned. In other instances the unfortunate ruler becomes a blood drinker. Most don't realize what's happened. The initiator vanishes and they're left to face the feverish skin shedding all alone... the initial gut wrenching hunger. Oh, they figure it out after a bit. That's when the trouble starts. Can you imagine a vampire ayatollah in Iran? A vampire monarch in Britain? The political-diplomatic world is like a giant Jenga game... a tweak here, a nudge there and the whole thing comes crashing down. None of this has happened yet. School is still in session. We even have a well known flesh sculptor (bone, as well) to provide an added, subtle perfection. All the clothes are custom made. There's weight training, exfoliation... 'ex' everything. Granted, certain parts are complicated. Our vampirinas and vampirinos still hide from the sun, but their 'mentors' don't care. Anyone can do office chores. Our graduates do other things. Luna's here with us too. Some of you might be familiar with her. If not Google Vampire Wonderland by Billy Kravitz (we're forced to pretend this is all just made up) and add Luna. I'm amazed at how much we have out there. Eight hundred thousand words, they say. You can Google Vampire Wonderland by Billy Kravitz and add ANY word and something will come up. But you'll have to excuse me. It's 3AM here... less than three hours till dawn. I particularly enjoy hunting for campers. It's cooler here in the mountains. I like that too. Now let me find an elastic pony tail thing and my hiking boots. Doctor Franklin has to go. <more next time> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ click - NIGHT DEW ... to browse all episodes of Vampire Wonderland. But my RSS feed is screwy and the individual pages don't show up, though you can scroll down and read the intros. I've asked for help. They should fix it soon. click - SAY SOMETHING ... to join me on Twitter. COMMENTS are very appreciated. thank you.
FRANKLIN TALKS ----- For over three hundred years, I've been the national innovator around here. I created the idea of an American City... a BIG university... a MODERN hospital... precision refractive lenses. Yes, I know the Chinese and certain MesoAmerican civilizations take credit for that, but who the hell do you think perfected it? They may have been Leif Erikson but I was Cristobal Colon. Nobody called him 'Christopher Columbus' when he was around. I hope you know that. And I sat in that fetid, sweaty, Old Pennsylvania State House all summer, hammering out The Constitution, a document almost Biblical in its literary purity. But did those pseudo-aristocratic, ridiculously wigged, pretentiously accented, conceited bastards, so much as offer me ANY official position. Look, you know history. You know what happened. I don't have to tell you. That's why I 'died.' That's why I disappeared. Postmaster General doesn't mean shit. But you're gonna see me go 'postal' now. Vampire blood gives me a new clarity. If you want it, there it is. Go and get it. But you better grab it 'cause it's going fast. I love that song. Sure, I'm not quoting it correctly, but, boy, do I get the idea. You know where I am now? In The Annex, an early addendum to The Anti-Enchantment Bureau compound built in the Pocono Mountains in case the Brits found and burned the nascent original during The War of 1812. Thank God they did not. But thank God (well, all right, maybe not God) for The Annex. It's where we did, shall I say, certain questionable scientific investigations... inoculation therapy in the early days, trying out vaccines on recalcitrant slaves and prisoners and doxy-girls... Oh, some lived.... 'some.' Others died. A few went blind. A few went crazy. A few went both..... DON'T look at me like that! ... Do you intellectual infants really think the George Washingtons and Thomas Jeffersons and Andrew Hamiltons were all so honky dory? Hamilton was the most interesting one though. He did deserve that stage show...(sigh).. God, I'd like a stage show. I'd like a lot of things... and now, I'm going to get them. You see, what we're doing here is creating and training our cadre of vampire assassins. Read the last two posts. You'll figure it out. They have to look natural. They have to represent all physical types and racial varieties. We're going to insinuate them into many different places... get them close to the throne. And that's not so hard to do. Political sex scandals are legion. That's why young beauties work best... all manner of young beauties. Soon they'll be vampires. Till then, we groom them and educate them ... good bodies... good minds. Rush and de la Vega and French think I need them. They think I need their money. What I need is to keep an eye on them, because they're trying the same thing. Look, they're watching me too. But I'll win. You see, I want to rule the world. All they want is the world's money. I want it all. Oh, once I get what I want I do plan to be a rather benign dictator... Maybe throw a few 'virgins' into volcanoes, but only a few. Individual polities will still be able to retain their most beloved programs... health care in Canada.... bull fights in Mexico.... oligarchs in Russia... tango dancing in Argentina.... snails in France... yadda yadda yadda. I'll be an immortal Marcus Aurelius, the good emperor of Rome. In fact, we've already kidnapped him and brought him here from THE HERMETIC ORDER OF THE GOLDEN DAWN house he lives in, in London. Trouble is, he's immortal too... Not a vampire. He's had some 'work' done. I'm just not sure what it is. For now, he's my tutor. I'm not sure how I'll use the other Philadelphia vampires... (chuckles)... Sounds like the name of a questionable sports team. Doesn't it?... And in my empire, the Eagles win the Super Bowl every year..... ha ha ha ha ha ha ha... I'm just kidding... sort of. Great galleons will sail the stars. Magnetic trains will glide 'tween continents via antiseptically clean subterranean tunnels. The blind will see. The deaf will hear. The flatulent will stop farting.. I joke. I make light. But this is real. I will have my day, or night, as it is now.... You think they can stop me? Maybe you do. What difference does it make to me what you think? I dealt with resurrection men, body snatchers, in London from seventeen fifty five to seventeen seventy five. Poisoned adversaries in Britain and America. Brought three dogs and a monkey back from the dead. Dissolved a common law wife you never heard of in acid... So what... Who cares? Artists are mercurial beings... Get used to it. <more next time> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ click ACID ... to see it all on Vampire Wonderland... click THE CONVERSATION ... to join me and a lot of wonderful people on Twitter... please leave a comment. thank you. It's 1:20AM here in the Grand Duchy of Philadelphia. I'm done early! Back to Twitter...
A continuation of last night's post ~ Doctor Franklin and the 'Lady' Cressida passed through the finely appointed lobby and entered an elevator. No one so much as glanced at them. An over done 'grand dam' of an older woman laughed at a joke. People returned from the theater, or a late dinner, or Labor Day festivities. A harpist in a long sleeved, fitted black gown, quietly played selections from Sweeney Todd. Vampires, even new ones can remain unnoticed. It's an instinctive thing. Maybe it's telepathic, or simply a look, or a stance, but they have it. And they exited at the sixth floor, silently gliding down a richly carpeted hallway, passed framed and matted black and white photographs of belle epoque Philadelphia. One picture caught the Doctor's attention and he momentarily stopped... a trim, attractive dandy sitting on a bench and tipping his hat toward the camera. The dandy was Jonathon... A coincidence? An omen? Who knew? Doctor Franklin quietly chuckled. Cressida barely noticed. They went on. A six paneled, dark, varnished door at the end of the hallway opened. Franklin entered first, his young companion followed. A tweedy 'Miss Hathaway' woman closed the door. Three mature gentlemen attired in dark suits shared a sofa. The one in the middle stroked a small King Charles Cavalier Spaniel. The dog wore tortoise shell spectacles. His human nodded, gestured toward two Louis XV chairs and said - Please, be seated. They sat down. Franklin said - The glasses, are they real, or merely an affectation?.... Oh, quite real - said the gentlemen. We're planning on reshaping her corneas, but must wait till she stops growing. Vetting physicians now, or at least she is..... The Miss Hathaway type woman smiled, sort of.... Then the gentlemen continued - I believe you know Senor de la Vega and Mister Rush?.... The right hand old man and the left hand old man both nodded. Franklin nodded back.... The dog lover went on - Who's the girl?.... A colleague, a new vampire, as am I - said Franklin.... Yes, I heard - said the dog lover, whose name was French, by the way. What changed your mind? I thought you were a staunch mortalist?..... I still am, but my health did that. Harmonics didn't cut it anymore, at least not for me. Got me to three hundred plus. Not a bad run. And death doesn't suit me, so I agreed to this.... Nor us either - said French. We plan to go with complete cerebral download. The Japanese are experimenting with our robotic bodies right now..... I'm getting Tyrone Power - said de la Vega... I'm going for Miss Greer Garson - said Rush... Oh? - went Franklin. A clean break, is it?... Yes - said Rush. I figure this is the perfect opportunity. Always liked her. Mrs. Miniver is a favorite of mine..... And you, French, who will you be? - asked Franklin.... Moe, from The Three Stooges - went the dog lover. Don't be funny. You know how private I am. And you? Have you killed anybody yet?..... Please, Mr. French, you know how private I am. But I do have an idea... The three uber billionaires glanced up.... Everyone appreciates a good world domination plan. Go on, please - said Mr. Rush. Is this something that can be achieved before we translate into the silicon state?..... Well, I can't guarantee that, but we will be able to accomplish a lot - said Franklin. Can you trust the bodyguards?..... They're in the little bedroom playing cards - said French. So if you don't shout we should be alright. Can we trust your little girlfriend?..... Cressida won't betray us. Who could she tell, Star Magazine?.... Cressida rolled her eyes.... Why did you bring her? - asked Senor de la Vega.... Let's just say that she has ties in two worlds. You'll find out. Then he moved his chair closer to the sofa. They all leaned in, as he began to whisper... Most little people, the world over, are simple minded, self limiting, superstitious cattle. They live the same lives generation after generation and then blame some 'other' group for their own truncated existence. They follow coarse exploitive dictators, or elected officials who mirror their own shortcomings. If we can get them to hate and mistrust those fearless leaders we create chaos. You've seen old movies. You've seen the peasants storm the castle with torches and pitchforks. This is that, but on a bigger scale. And how do you plan to cause this hate and mistrust? - asked French.... Turn them into vampires - said Franklin. They can't be seen in daylight. They can't break bread with fellow rulers. Rumors will get out. Secret videos will appear on line. Clergymen, our clergymen, will issue warnings. A riot here. A riot there. Will the army rebel? Will the army stay loyal to their satanic leader? Can you imagine what would happen in the Middle East? In Russia? In Latin America? India? Africa? Even here. Even Western Europe. Everywhere. China might survive. They're used to cloistered, remote leaders, but I can think of few other places. Can you imagine a vampire pope? Look, now that I'm 'in the business,' so to speak, let me put together a little group. Give me a month or two... The three mature gentlemen grumbled a bit, but soon everyone was shaking hands. Franklin's wanted to be president since seventeen eighty seven and now he almost could. The Miss Hathaway look alike secretary sat on a small, upholstered bench pretending not to hear. And they really didn't want to do it, but they forgot about her, so there was no other choice. Franklin had to feed on her. She whimpered and cried. The three mature gentlemen enjoyed the show. Even the little dog in glasses watched attentively. After all, she was only an executive assistant.... quite replaceable and not important in any way. <more next time> click - BILLIONAIRES ... to see all Vampire Wonderland episodes... click - POTENTATES ... to join me on Twitter... please comment. thank you...
Doctor Franklin and Cressida rode through the nighttime city in a chauffeur driven, glossy, black Maybach.... Neither spoke. They just watched the passing scene. Crowds of young folk leaving the open air Labor Day Weekend concert streamed by the windows. Cressida studied the girls. How different they were... How casual... They laughed... They talked... They kissed friends. She never had a life like that. From 'mole girl' to vampire. That's how it was. From one specimen of exotica to another. Vampires are entranced by mortals, especially their contemporaries. They speculate on the mortal life that might have been. It's hard to pull back from that, yet still be very much dependent on it.
Doctor Franklin saw everything. The old reprobate never missed a beat. He said - How are you getting along with Jonathon's 'Sarah?'.... What, can't you tell? - asked Cressida. I'm civil. We talk. We shop. Vampires 'shop.' Doesn't that sound strange? She likes Boyd's. I like South Street. She never talks about her kills. I don't think she even enjoys them. You know what she told me?.... Franklin shook his head.... She said that 'thing' sees herself as Wendy, from Peter Pan. And not just now since that song came out. She's always been like that. First, when she had Philadelphia After Dark, her bookshop and all the 'nuts' came in. Then when she became a vampire, it got worse. Jonathon is Peter Pan to her. It's all good deeds. She has boxes of old, little, glass, perfume sample vials. I mean boxes. There's a store room. Like there must be a Sam's Club for night-folk selling vampire supplies. I mean it. Makes tiny cuts in her fingers and collects a few drops in each one. Fills maybe a dozen every night. Stops them up and gives them out to sick, troubled people all over town. Nurses in neonatology and pediatric wards wait for her.... Do they know what she is? - says Franklin..... Sure they do - says Cressida. I mean they used to watch True Blood. They used to read Twilight. Hoped it was real. Dreamt that it was. And then she comes along. A regular 'Miss Jesus.' You've heard the term. You know what I mean.... He nods... Well, what? I'm supposed to be best friends with her? Look, I don't hate her. Just want to push her in front of a train. That's what I want to do? Can we do that to a vampire? Will it kill them?... He shrugs, then adds - Perhaps she'd morph into sentient peanut butter and then slowly mend back to her usual form, or maybe tapioca pudding?..... They laugh..... Cressida says - And look at you, trim black suit, hair neatly swept back, crisp white shirt, silk tie... You look like a reimagined Bernie Madoff. No Eagles' sweat suits?..... No Eagles' sweat suits - he goes.
The young folk spreading out from the concert on the Parkway (the BENJAMIN Franklin Parkway, I might add) disappeared into bars and clubs, leaving the streets to the usual locals and dog walkers. Our duo in the Maybach sits in silence. Then the former 'Aura' (now Cressida) quietly asks - Where are we going?
To meet some people - He said. Just some interesting people.... Then why are we so dressed up? - she asked.... Well, they're 'dressed up' kind of people. Look, 'Papa's' been neglecting you and Sarah's not exactly your cup of tea and ,no, you can't kill folks every night of the week. You're not a 'noxious' vampire. You're 'noble.' We don't do that. Do you understand?... She shrugged.... Franklin said - How bout a little vodka?... She shrugged again... Franklin passed her his flask. She guzzled it down, turned toward the people on the sidewalk and said - Boy, look at all the delicious 'shitheads.' That's what Little Annie calls them, shitheads, because they're all full a shit..... An unavoidable biological necessity, my dear. Animal life is like that. At least they don't leave it on the street, like the dogs... and then, to himself he added, I was made for this life all along.... He blew her a kiss. She blew one back. The driver chuckled. He was a 'familiar.' He understood these things.
Soon after, the sleek, black car glided to a stop by the entrance to a new, stylish boutique hotel. A liveried someone or other smoothly opened the door. They went inside.
Then the night was as before.. warm, dark and enveloping. Even with the lights of the city there are many places to hide. A suite with high end finishes in a fine hotel can be a very good spot for anonymity. The powerful individuals occupying these accommodations knew that.
They knew many things... and many people too.
Cressida was quite impressed. In fact she practically peed herself, if vampirinas peed like mortals do...
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It is I, Jonathon ben Macabi, also known as Tomas de Macabea. Either one is fundamental and an essential part of my nature. You regulars, my night-friends know that. I'll bet you don't realize how much genuine knowledge of la ciencia vampirismo you've picked up. I speak not of paperback lies sold in drug stores but actual truth. I never fool you, or pander to your more prurient nature. That's why this 'thing' vexes me so.
Franklin has killed. The old reprobate is not without style. But we'll speak of that next time. This concerns a cheap entertainment... a baroque burlesque of la vida vampirido, meant for stenographers, cat ladies and frustrated deletantes. Excuse my ignorance of the French language, as a proud Spaniard (although domiciled in many lands over the years) I see it as a mere echo of our own noble tongue.
The SyFy station is running Interview With The Vampire tonight. I'm watching it now and the woman who writes the books from whence he comes is not without a facile talent. Yet any cretin... even the most noxious vampiric ghoul of Carpathia knows it for what it is... a lavish 'guess'... a 'what if'... based on Byronic lies and too much absinthe.
Lestat is a rat... a loathsome, talking rat. He's a bed bug, feigning intelligence and a twisted spirituality... Jim Morrison as an amoral killer, devoid of purpose and will power. Is that the fabrication you crave? Take it, if you want. Have it. Suck on it like a lolly-pop.... It's not what I 'sell.'
My God! Can you imagine how hard it was for me to share this?... They wanted to seal me in lead... They wanted 'Papa' to banish me... send me to the Corona of the Sun... But I convinced them. I told them you'd never accept it as anything but fiction... Remember the first line? How blatant it was... 'First of all we must agree that what comes next is fiction.' That made it right. And so the tale went out... Indeed, it continues to spin out... spider silk for intelligent flies.
One night, we too will have a cinematic face. One night you will see....
'Lestat'... a candy- dandy meant for yearning children... a 'noxious' vampire with a good tailor....
When I stumble on fiends like him (there are a few) I destroy them... and they laugh and giggle like little girls as they die...
Rant's over. Eat a cookie...
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They're getting ready to go out. Franklin's about to take his first life. All by the book, an evil doer and all that. He brushes his hair, cut short for the occasion and studies his image in the mirror. Jonathon got him a nice suit from Boyd's... light weight... summer wool. Franklin wanted seersucker, but Jonathon told him no one wore that anymore... not in cities anyway... maybe for country or seashore weddings.
Besides, Jonathon's mind was on other things. Odd, Franklin had the look of a well preserved eighty four year old, but to his creator, he seemed like a child....
Jonathon said - Time will pass different for you now. People will flash by like sparklers. Valued friends, and you will have valued mortal friends, will die and fade away. You'll try to remember... Sometimes you'll remember, but no matter what, names will disappear and whole lives will be gone... lost... just dissolved back into the ether. The very style of faces will change. Who looks like George Washington today? Who looks like John Quartermaine?
Who was John Quartermaine? - asked Franklin.
He was a friend. Had a bookshop where The Continental Bar stands today. I used to go in there. This was in the eighteen fifties. Bookshops stayed open later than most establishments. Men worked. Men had responsibilities. Booksellers had to wait for other businesses to close up for the day. Browsers stopped in on their way home from work. The little bell by the door would jingle. Some came by after dinner. He didn't know I was a vampire. Took him about ten years, maybe a little more. He aged. I didn't. We talked. We talked all the time. Sometimes we'd go to the oyster bar out front of Bookbinders. He'd order cold lobster, or a plate of little necks. I'd make do with two or three fingers of gin. Vodka was practically unknown then. An abolitionist he was, a committed abolitionist. Sincere too. He knew I was a 'Hebrew,' as he put it. I think he was a Judophile, if that's a word. A lot of old line Protestants were back then. Viewed us a the fundamentalist's fundamentalist. Not the immigrant types. I'm talking about long established Jewish families. You knew them from Mikveh Israel (old Rite of Spain, Orthodox synagogue)....
But why are you going on like this? - said Franklin. I'm already more than three hundred years old. I've 'lost people' too.
As a 'human' - said Jonathon. This will be different. And it might go on for far longer than three hundred years. Look, all I mean is love them and value them and write everything down. Now you can record it. Now you need never lose them. They'll be locked in time, but they'll still be there.... Do you know what I mean?
Do you miss that Quartermaine gentlemen? - asked Franklin.
Jonathon nodded.
Franklin said - I think I understand.
Then he straightened his suit coat, turned to his vampire progenitor and said - Well, Mister Macabi, shall we go?.....
And they left..... Soon he'd independently take a life for the first time... Soon he'd learn just what being a vampire meant...
Centuries would pass, but he'd still be here...
Could you handle that?
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So Doctor Franklin, the 'midwife' who helped birth America and shaped many of the national institutions we hold dear today, became a life-eater. He's a vampire now. God knows what he'll do to that world. Jonathon sat with him during the shedding of the skin. When it was done, the old reprobate was mesmerized. He could not look away and studied his smooth-skinned naked image in an antique cheval mirror from his residence, deep within the Anti-Enchantment Bureau ... No need for a traditional vampire slumber cabinet. The whole place is underground as it is.... just a huge, sprawling, quasi private, quasi governmental, uber tech complex with ties to kings, princes, presidents and oligarchs the world over. And now he's 'cured.' Now he's essentially immortal.
Franklin says - I haven't had skin like this since Du Barry was a lady. What about my face? Will my bone structure change too?
No - says Jonathon. Every cell in your body is the best it can possibly be... not different, just perfected.
Pity - says the old patriot. I always fancied a jawline. God damned Jefferson... he had the jawline. Isn't it strange how much I still think of them... those others... the 'founding fathers' I mean. Been food for worms all these generations and yet (taps his right temple) they're all still right here.
That's not so strange - says Jonathon. I still obsess over scriptural commentators from before the Norman Conquest. You know that.
Franklin pirouettes, smiles and nods - Oooh look! My hammer toes are all gone. And my pot belly seems a little bit diminished! Don't you think?
It's the increased muscle tone, the improved posture. Your wattle's a bit firmer too - says his vampiric friend.
I know. Noticed that right away - says Franklin. (studies his 'wee wee') Tell, me. I know I should know this, been studying all of you for years, but will I ever pee again? You have to understand. I've been an old man, a scientifically preserved one, but still 'old' for so long and a good pee really means a lot.
Well, all I can say is, every part of your body is in perfect working order. Whether you 'need' a spleen, or a bladder, or an adrenal gland, I don't know. Some vampires report peeing, some do not. I think it's a psychological thing. If you need to pee, you will pee - says Jonathon.
And what about sex? - asked the 'healthy' old man.
Jonathon shrugs - I suppose. We don't reproduce, not that way, but that 'thing' you got is all tuned up now. The 'lecher of Paris' is back, so to speak. I don't think you have any viable sperm. Years and years and years of all those 'harmonic wave' treatments might have stretched your mortal life, but come on... Look, you were eighty four years old when you started. What do you expect? Coitus, yes. Babies, no. And you will never have any new reproductive cells. Those you might have will remain viable for a few days at most. Then, they'll swim within your coin purse for as long as you endure, or until you set them free.
God willing - says the white haired vampire.... and he chuckled....
Get dressed - says Jonathon. It's time to go out. It's time to feed. Don't you feel it? Don't you want it?
Oh, indeed I do, my good 'young' man. Indeed I do - says Franklin. Now go. Go, go, go. Wait in the sitting room. I'll be with you accordingly.... as he runs his fingers through his newly thickened locks.
Jonathon smiles, gets up and exits... as he goes he whispers - dress for success.
But when the door clicks shut, Franklin's whole demeanor changes. His gaze hardens. He runs his tongue along his teeth, then begins to whistle 'The Teddy Bear's Picnic' ( an old night-folk favorite)... When you go out on the street tonight, you're in for a big surprise....
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