VAMPIRES...TSUNAMI...EARTHQUAKES...A GUY WHO KNOWS BONO...WE GOT IT ALL!!!

this is not our usual bog. just a short bit of info. the A.C. area shook. walls vibrated. no tsunami (we hope). BAYLAH felt it. the vamps in philly felt it too. BAYLAH was ready to run. her boyfriend has a car with blacked out windows in his garage. they were all set to drive inland.

vampires especially fear disasters that stike during the day. if a tsunami hits at night, they just go with it and let it drag them out to sea. they don't need oxygen. they'll swim, or walk back along the bottom. they would survive that.

the elves and cherubs in philly were all shaken up. but Papa creates something like a vulcan mind meld and he has them all calmed down now. edith, or Jersey Piney 'seer' (she's back with the philly contingent) suspects more to come. she smiles knowingly annd chuckles quietly. but that one does enjoy her drama, so I don't know if she really sees this, or if it is just wishful thinking.

the mole people living in the old unused subway tunnels beneath the city are worried. And a few sloppy loo-loos are acting kind of crazy, but they always look a little weird to me.

I'm telling you, browse through our older posts. we have about 320 of them. you'll learn a lot. we got paranormal info busting out the wazoo.

my new rolex submariner is all right. and that guy at the somers point diner knew a lot about Bono. no cracks in the margate house (beach block too). I was all set to run. Hell, I seen that movie where teoni leoni and her dad get flattened by that wave. you know what 'coastal frankenstein' says---tsunami baaaaddddd.......

more REAL STUFF coming later.....provided I don't get pulverized and crushed under a mound of wave driven debris.

HEY, WAIT A MINUTE.....ANDERSON COOPER KNOWS ABOUT OUR VAMPIRES???

COULDNT POST MUCH TONIGHT. BAYLAH WON ONE OF HER POKER TOURNAMENTS! She bought me a Rolex Submariner (surgical steel, 'presidential'  bracelet) at this shop in the casino. She made 'vampire eyes' at him and we got a good price. MUCH BETTER THAN NEW SNEAKERS OR TRIPS TO THE ALL-YOU-CAN-EAT BUFFETS! I like the semi-precious, solid quartz crystal too. I think James Bond wears one just like it.....(who knows, maybe if we get enough hits,  she'll get me an aston-martin too!!??)

I told you this wasn't really fiction. We only pretend that it is to foil certain anti-life-eater organizations.

Will attempt to channel more of the goings on in Jerusalem tomorrow. But I think I saw a quick mention of the events in question on ANDERSON COOPER.

Please browse through our earlier posts (we have hundreds of them) in order to gain a feel for our material and a deeper understanding of the vampiric condition....THE REAL VAMPIRIC CONDITION.

Gee, I love the way this bulky timepiece sits on my wrist.....gotta go. Meeting people at the Point Diner in Somers Point (minutes from A.C.) for coffee and cake.......

Such is Life In The Downbeach........

Pixilated Goings-On In Old Jerusalem.....why? it could happen.

So Jonathon wants to kill that vampire Frenchman and Sarah is so contrite (satisfied and contrite) she spends all her time sneaking into hospitals and giving little, life saving droplets of her blood to sick children (from all faith and cultural communities) languishing in sick beds all over this magical city. A few of them think she's one of the X-Men (or X-Women).

Our Andalucian life-eater sublimates through the byways of Zion looking for Jean-Michel. What will he do should he find him? Who knows? You know how these vampires are, all impulse and dramatic bluster. Probably just shatter a lot a plate glass windows (providing the psycho-kenetic juices are up to par), make a mess a throbbing, sub-sonic grunts, sit down, talk, share a big fat juicy victim and man-hug their way to a new beginning. They ain't fools. It's like the mafia. Nobody wants to score a hit if they can help it...or possibly be identified. Because what comes around goes around (did I say that right?). Sure Jonathon was hurt. Sarah is connected to him in more ways than one, both vampirically and physically. It gets extremely complicated. Good thing vampires are immortal, or they'd all have hemophilia.

But the jinns are still at it. That old witch got 'em all fired up. Lifted dessicated bone-puppets out of two thousand year old graves, dancin' 'em around the Mount of Olives like ancient Judean Howdy Doodies or something. A bunch a German and Filipino tourists on a special visit start throwin' up they hands and prayin' and singin' that it is the Second Coming, not to mention the Hasidic contingent there to visit some rabbi's grave, who start gallopin' 'round like demented Blues Brothers there for the first personnal appearance of the  actual, true, get-him-while-He's-hot Messiah......A kid from Toronto put 'em all on You-Tube. They got a lot a vampire-magic shit on You-Tube.....Remember Bob? (long-time regulars will know who I mean)...Remember all that stuff out behind The Olive Garden and out front of that big, Broad Street temple in Philadelphia? (ditto that long-term crap). People see that stuff, but they don't believe any of it. Some of 'em do. But most chalk it all up to some kind of special effects, or optical illusions. You gotta have some BIG shit to impress people now-a-days......That's where the universal dream comes in..........

Every tenth person clinging to this spinnin' ball a dirt woke up from the same dream...They heard it, a voice calling in the dark, soothing and comforting (but still a little scary, 'cause they was driftin' through the dark and all) saying----- I am The Unity like unto there is none else......No 'thing' can seperate Me from thee.....I am the Creed For All Creation.....I am the One True Shining Faith......I am the Pure and Simple Thing.....I am the True Road Home....(and here He seemed a little bit dissapointed and hurt) I am One, so you are one............But as the voice faded out, they saw a rapidly flashing image of all mankind, plus some unusual bastids from what I guess are other planets. Then it was over and they all peed the bed (if they were sleeping in beds)....And that was it....Few of 'em said anything (I guess they were embarrassed 'bout the wet sheets and all)...But they all knew it...They all remembered what happened......And little by little they started acting different to each other.

That's when they found the two kids, the ones with the strange disease, the Israeli one and the 'Ishmaeli' one. Well, actually certain parties 'produced' them a couple days ago. But this is when it really started to get big. Hell, even Brian Williams came to town.............

BAYLAH, our Beyonce vampire look-a-like, SPEAKS FROM THE CRYPT

OK, you saw the title, so you know it's me. I've been sublimating back and forth between Margate, at the Jersey Shore and Jerusalem. Try to imagine what that does to my psyche. It's about 4:20pm here (Margate), so I'm still undisposed. That means I'm hiding from the light. But don't thing of me as holed up in some hard little stone vault buried deep in the oozing, mildew sand. This is 'The Downbeach' honey, Atlantic City's Malibu meets The Hamptons. The only things buried deep in the oozing, mildew sand are whacked racketeers and used Kotex. You know how messy mortal girls can get. Believe me, that is one thinng I do not miss. Although I am told that 'noxious' vampires relish such occurances.

At this  time, I am ensconced in a big, king-size bed, atop a high-end, five star hotel quality, pillow topped mattress. Special room darkening draperies block out the afternoon fire. Was I sleeping? Yeah, mostly. But right now I am watching something on HGTV. And I got this really sweet aroma candle going. My boyfriend (the rich financier) didn't have to change a thing. The master bedroom was already set up like this. High rollers sleep in a lot too. We were made for each other. That's him spooning next to me. Looks like Mister Big, don't he? He's so cute. Sometimes I forget and take a little nip. But he don't mind. He just yelps and rubs his butt...smiles a lot too, cause he knows I'm gonna give him a 'special' kiss to make up for it.

If you are familiar with the area, you probably know our house. It's the big one on the beachblock with the...No, wait. I am not going to tell you. But if you walk down the beach, look for the palace with the closed in master bedroom...the one with all the curtains. You'll spot it. You know how they open up all the rooms to 'the view' 'round here? Well this the only one that don't seem interested...at least during the sky fire time.. God!! I wish that ice cream man down by the beach would shut up. 'Fudgie-wudgie, fudgie-wudgie!!!'...he yells that all day...Gonna get the maid to throw a bucket of dog piss on him. But you know, sneaky-like, so he don't know where it came from.

We been thinking 'bout that little Andy Dick storm blowing 'round. Who the hell cares what he says? What, you mean to tell me folks feel threatened by him?....Still, I do feel sorry for the shriveled, little thing. He probably wanted that radio show real bad.....Reaaaallll baddddd.....could taste it maybe. And it is not like certain 'religious' hypocrites don't talk like that all the time. What do you think they say over Thanksgiving dinner?....Other special 'holiday' get togethers too......Look, Mel Gibson seems to be squeezin' back in again. Of course he got a note from his doctor. Who knows, maybe Hitler and half a Europe were bi-polar too?.....I miss Amy Whinehouse....She woulda made a good vampire.....Oughta have vampires stationed in all the emergency rooms. You know, to save the well suited ones.....such a waste.......So forgive that runty, little comic....He can't help it...He was born that way......And  The Biblical New Year's comin.....Time for forgiveness, lovin' everybody, eatin' honey (for a sweet year) and all that....I know. My boyfriend is one of 'em.

Now let me go back to sleep for a couple hours. We're playing poker tonight (Texas Hold 'em), over at The Borgata. And I ain't gonna let that white, old, hunch-backed, Jew, bitch beat me no more!!..........Well, you know what I mean.............................

VAMPIRES MAKE LOVE IN THE MORNING

Jonathon waited until Sarah came home. They were lodging in an eighteenth century villa just outside the walls of the Old City. Zorro could have lived in the place. It had that much Mediterranean charm. You know what I mean, all hand-laid tiles and stucco. The witch who owned it (she claims descent from a certain practitioner from Endor, once named in the Bible) took out all the electricity, so no light bulbs...only candles, big, fat, buttery, beeswax candles. I guess witches look better by candle light...vampires too.

He met her out in the patio. It was cool. You know how it gets right before dawn. The breeze picks up. A few itchy birds begin to sing. She saw him sitting in the shadows and stopped. He could smell the guilt. He held out his hand. She sat down next to him and took it. Her mind raced. She whispered something. He said - Don't...Don't...It is not necessary.....,.And he kissed her hand. She began to cry. He held her. She sobbed. He soothed her. He kissed her. She trembled and kissed him back. Then he got up, scooped her into his arms and carried her down to their chamber. The old witch chuckled with delight, as she fastened all the doors, securing the place against the daylight.

They slept in a deep, cool vault, once used to store spices traded via caravan to desert shieks far to the south. A rich, heady fragrance seeped out from the thick, rough plastered walls. He carefully put her down atop a nest of soft, silken feather beds, and undressed her in preparation for pleasures yet to come. The smell of the Frenchman rose up from her skin, but he ignored it, nibbling away at its essence, as he kissed her most hidden, sensative  places.

And the old witch danced and cackled naughtily, as she watched it all unfold upon the reflective surface of an old, broken blue tile, taken from the tomb of a lesser known prophet. Did they know of her intrusion?...Did they care? 

He rocked her gently with a slow, sure strength gained from years (mortal ones, that is) on horseback. And she held him tight, bestowing wondrous gifts of her own. His 'eighteen year old body' against her 'twenty nine year old body.' His thousand year old soul melding with her much younger one.

But the witch was a crafty old thing and she 'whispered' news of this coupling to the Chevalier Jean-Michel, as he lay cold and alone in his own crypt. Lurid images crept into his dreams. And a hunger for revenge began to build. 

The ersatz 'jinns' flitting about the Divine enclosure laughed sharp, metallic laughs, as they kissed the lips of the demented witch, carrying away her purloined secrets and then breathing them into other ears..... 

EINSTEIN PROBABLY UNDERSTOOD THIS STUFF

Renate is disoriented. She fails to understand how humanity can ignore such important information. Remember, we only pretend that this is fiction. Our plane, our universe is known as the 'field of lailacs,' for we were among the first to evolve flowering plants (at least in this part of the cosmic consciousness). The earliest vampires fell into our realm from another place. As far as I know (this is still Zebulon) it had no name. There was no need. All communication was telepathic. Words just clogged things up.

But the Lady Renate was not the first to manifest in our world. Two or three generations preceeded her, although they are believed to have passed on to another part of the forest, so she is the eldest (in all probability) of the breed. Yet questions remain. For if the vampiric line goes back a bit before her nativity, then what explains the Neanderthal vampires? Did they fall through a cosmic hernia too?  When questioned, she just laughs and laughs and laughs. Her eyes sparkle like diamonds. He teeth seem shaped by the finest  ivory carvers of old Cathay. Her raven tresses reflect colors here-to-fore undiscovered. She has friends on other planets. Indeed, planets are as islands to her.......

Wait.....I cannot tell you more.....I can't...I can't...I can't....sharp souled 'jinns' nibble at my ether. They weaken me. They attempt to destroy me. But 'this one' is strong. this one will not disappear. this one will endure.....

So permit me to sublimate into the Akoshic Records, where I can be safe.Oh, but the imposter jinns are there to, yet they can work no physical magic in that place. None of us can. We just float and endure and read and learn.

Jonathon is beginning to resent the French Knight. He'd really like to destroy him, but as a noble, worthy Sephardic Vampire from old Andalucia,  he knows that's out of the question. Does he blame Sarah for this little bit of shadow love?...No...he does not. He blames himself. Yet his allies feel differently. Papa (always in cerebral congress with his life-eater son) wants to truss him up and gift him to the same Vatican hangers on reponsible for his centuries long imprisonment. Let them study this self-important, Gallic speaking poser. See how he fares in the inescapeable dungeons of Rome.

Oh, the resurrected John Lennon and the others are beginning to get feedback on their video. Lots of down loads (at ninety-nine cents a clip). True, the first million were free, but movements need money, even peace movements....I'll tell you more about the 'universal dream,'.....you know, the 'I am The Unity like unto there is none else...Nothing can seperate Me from thee' stuff next time......I'm sorry, but it's so restful here in the Akoshic Records....I can't focus....I cannot think.......I can just 'be.'.....I just 'am.'

CLUES TO THE STRUCTURE OF ALL THINGS...vampires included

Zebulon speaks. I have been oozing in and out of our neighboring parallel universes. It's easy to do that here in Jerusalem, for this divine cooprdinate serves as a portal, a hernia, if you will, allowing souls and materials from one plane to seep into the next. Do they have vampires in those places? Of course they do, but I like the centaurs best. Can you imagine what their public toilets are like? Ass wiping poses a bit of a problem, but that's what the little satyr restroom attendants are for.

I also hear from those with various forms of mandibles and digestive tracts that the pizza is shitty wherever you go. And Cats is still playing in a realm two cosmic vibrations away, but with real talking and singing felines. Bette Midler is president of the United States in one reality and cans of  Chicken of the Sea tuna fish are used as money in another...counterfeits (did I spell it correctly?) contain dead human flesh in place of the more usual albacore.

So if you're of a mind to go back and compare episodes, you might notice that certain pearls along the strand don't exactly fit in with all the rest and some of the pieces of our puzzle don't 'jig' with the others. Does that reveal a fundamental flaw? Certainly not. It merely indicates an unavoidable level of extra-parallel contamination. You know how individual pieces of slop in the refrigerator suck up stinks from all the other slops? Well, cosmic reality is a lot like that too. Ask Renate. She knows. So does famed Australian kiddie singing sensation, The Wiggles. And I think Gilbert Gottfreid is comprized of a bit of trans-parallel genetic material too. God isn't a good copy editor. What can I tell you. But he does write a good story.....

A group of Holocaust survivors met with a steeering committee made up of vampires and other extra-ordinary types. They applaud the quest for Mideast peace, but fear that all this Israel-Ishmael brotherhood might water down the distinct character of their religious homeland. After all, Ishmael already has dozens of arrows in his quiver, while Israel has only one. Many states fly the Ishmaeli banner, but the tallis flag stands all alone. And certain supporters of the yet-to-be Ishmaeli state fail to see the sense in a settlement recognizing Hebrew aspirations. They never had to do that before. No one did. It's tradition. It's history. It's the way things are.......Looks like we're gonna have to contaminate plenty more felafel balls to circumvent this one.

And speaking of felafel balls...Sarah's getting mighty chummy with her new, centuries old, left over Crusader, vampire Frenchman,  Jean-Michel. Midnight swims in the storied pool of The King David Hotel. Pre-dawn blood nibbles on the Mount of Olives. Look, none other than Queen Beringeria herself had a thing for him, so what's a little auburn haired night-sweetie from Philadelphia supposed to do?

Ah, but the night air is peppered with our ersatz 'jinns.' Who are they? I don't really know. What are they? Well, they're a lot of things. Jonathon can feel them. He senses them in tiny currents and eddies moving through the mikvah (baptismal pool) where he takes his monthly post feeding purification bath. And he shivers as he steps up onto the worn stone paving surrounding the clear, fresh water, allowing himself to be enveloped by the crisp, clean sheets........