Urban Pie: Django Unchained tops list of best films of 2012

Urban Pie: Django Unchained tops list of best films of 2012: After suffering through the 170 minute snoozefest that was The Hobbit the 165 minute Django Unchained was just the antidote to Peter Jacks...Til I get new computers (hopefully by end of week) here's another guest post I know you'll find interesting. WE all like QUINTON TARANTINO and the new one DJANGO UNCHAINED looks almost perfect....Go see and PLEASE post COMMENTS (maybe YOUR 'best and worst lists' too?)...

A Place of Reflections: January 19 ~ @TheAviatorsClub Honors Departed Pets...

A Place of Reflections: January 19 ~ @TheAviatorsClub Honors Departed Pets...: The Aviators Club  on Twitter will fly two quarterly tribute (memorial) missions on January 19, 2013  to honor pets and anipals who have... Very hard for me to get enough time on line to post new blog material, since my computer was taken in a CHRISTMAS DAY burglary. Hopefully, I will be able to replace it in a week or so. PLEASE enjoy this heart warming post by the great KAYE FRANCIS @grammakaye on TWITTER. And as always, please GOOGLE Vampire Wonderland by Billy Kravitz or BINGO BOY by Billy Kravitz or EL RANCHO TEXACO by Billy Kravitz or THE LITTLE MATCH BOY by Billy Kravitz of MARIANNE IN BRITCHES by Billy Kravitz for countless portals to almost 1,000 episodes up now. THANK YOU for your support during this hard time. Here's hoping I'll be back to normal soon.

I WAS ROBBED!!!......AGAIN!!!... 12/27/12

Sorry about not blogging for two days. My computer was stolen in a burglary. Forced to use a public one at the library til I can replace it. PLEASE bear with me. Remember, there are more than 900 posts up now. If publishes in book form, it equals five three hundred and fifty page volumes. Should you like to wander about and explore arcs you may have missed, please GOOGLE Vampire Wonderland by Billy Kravitz...or THE LITTLE MATCH BOY by Billy Kravitz (reall good, especially this time of year) or EL RANCHO TEXACO by Billy Kravitz...(think of HOW THE WEST WAS WON on Mars), or BINGO BOY by Billy Kravitz. 

I will try to replace equipment as soon as possible. Desperately miss blogging and comunicating with much appreciated readers and bloggers. Hope everyone had a real nice Christmas. (my stuff was stolen while out visiting family on Christmas Day!) And hope those observing have a meaningful KWANZA too!

BUT~~~ here's a little preview of what's coming up in THE VAMPIRE REVELS....(we will complete BINGO BOY a.s.a.p. too)

Behold, King Rafe, the Lord of Revels, ritually sunk in a peat bog soon after assuming 'the vampiric burden.' He slept in the viscous, tea-like brew each day, cool and protected by the dark, soothing balm, til 'wakened by Shakespeare....A Midsummer's Night's Dream, to be exact. He heard it all the way up on Elsinore's shore. The semi-fluid bog acts like a sound lens, or microphone, collecting tid bits from around the globe.

The reference to OBERON tickled him, for he too bore that name, along with many others. So he sublimated through the ether, condensing in the midst of Restoration England...... in a charnal house to be exact. And the tea-stained wraith with the pale yellow mane dispatched many a plague victim, sparing them further torment.

You'll meet him soon, in the midst of 'THE REVELS'... A delightfully amusing 'Master of The Dance,' twirling and leaping to the throbbing pulse of his AFTER MIDNIGHT orchestra and the NIGHT-FOLK CHORALE.

Must leave now. Unwashed minions crave my blessed spot. I believe they're not zombies...... Well, culturally they are. Such is life....


Until next time...... a vagabond gnat, caught in the public web.


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52ND BINGO BOY episode 12/24/12

BINGO BOY - post 52

The air was chill and clear. Marge sat back in the warm limousine and listened to the music. It was nice, but it was classical, so she didn't know the name... But it was nice. They passed out of the pine forests and approached the beginnings of 'the shore.' She saw cute, little towns with names like Absecon, Northfield and Linwood, boasting jewel-box streets lined with cottage-like houses and neatly trimmed evergreen hedges. Some homes, accented by tiny bee-lights, twinkled in the early dusk. Yuletide comes to the coast. 

The driver turned off onto a causeway cutting through the marshlands and crossing the bay. He stopped to pay the toll and slowed down as they entered the streets of the town. 'Welcome to The Downbeach' the sign said. Marge looked out through the slightly tinted glass, taking it all in. She'd been to the shore many times before, to Atlantic City, or to Wildwood, but this was her first time to the 'private' shore, to the small, neat towns between the tourists that most folks never see. 

" Where are we?" she asked the driver. "Margate,  ma'am,' he said. She mouthed the word to herself and gazed out at the stylish, well appointed houses set upon small, manicured (even in winter) gerdens. She saw cozy shopping districts with tastefully decorated windows and warm, inn-like restaurants, with glowing hearths and soft lighting. 

Then they came to a street lined with holly trees, fine homes and shiny cars. The driver proceeded down a bit, til she saw him. Jimmy was outside snipping imaginary imperfections from a perfectly trimmed hedge. They pulled to the curb and stopped. The temporary gardener ditched the shears, as he raced down to open her door. 

"Welcome home," he said. At first she was speechless. He helped her out. Her chin quivered. She said, "What?" Jimmy kissed her and whispered, "I bought it for us. For the kids too. What the hell. We got room." Then he took her hand, led her up the brick steps onto the blue-stone patio and opened the door. 

Now the inside is straight out of a magazine. Gleaming, pegged oak floors. Pale, sandy walls. Crown molding. A piano..... a baby grand piano. Carriage trade furnishings, a tree in the den, plus a kitchen  Julia Child would gladly die for... a second time. 

They sat by the hearth and talked, happy and 'young' once more. He poured some wine. They drank. The driver brought in her things and arranged them in the sumptuous master suite. A few minutes later she went upstairs to freshen up, for Jimmy had reservations at the best place in town, a colonial bastion dressed for the season and fronting the bay, known as Steve & Cookies. 

People looked as they walked in. Such a handsome couple. Doesn't he favor Burt Reynolds? Couldn't she pass for Goldie Hawn, or perhaps that Melinda Dillon?

Tomorrow, or the next day, the kids would come.  

Money changes everything..... and candlelight adds the magic.

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AN UPDATE ON THE VAMPIRE REVELS

Bingo Boy will return tomorrow night, but the life-eaters I blog for are giving me fits. They hate surrendering the spotlight to standard issue mortals. You know how vain enchanted folk can be. We first mentioned the yearly REVELS back before the BINGO BOY arc started. Tomas, Sarah and the others plan to attend a regional convocation of their kind. Festivities are held throughout the world. Some frequent Venice, others positively dote on Calcutta. Strong, silent, visceral types gather in the great, Canadian North. 

Tomas has been to many over the years. Yet since the others are primarily new, they have not. So he plans to introduce them to their first taste of vampire excess in more or less familiar surroundings. By that, I mean a culturally western city. So far it's London. He still has brethren there from The Restoration. Accommodations are being prepared at a close-in country house owned by an old, reclusive gentry family with ties to all the best bloodlines in Sussex and Kent. They eschew titles. Nothing so 'showy' as that. But everyone knows who they are. Indeed, intelligent people fear them.

Are they in the least bit 'vampirido'?...No, although one or two in each generation become quite adept  at 'remote molecular manipulation,' the modern term for magic. Annie can't wait. The little vampire hellion's seen all the Harry Potters ten times over. She's already demonstrated some kinetic capabilities and trills at the prospect of widening her repertoire.

Doctor Franklin wants to join them. Well, you know he travels in the best circles. Vampires are but one variety of his exotic friends. Have I told you of his sojourn with The Hindu Immortals?... Excuse me, but I've said too much. Forget I mentioned that. If you'd like to know more about the venerable scientist, just GOOGLE Vampire Wonderland by Billy Kravitz, Doctor Franklin.... It should all be there.

The 'elferinos' and 'elferinas' aren't going. They love Philadelphia in winter and haunt the cobbled byways like the sweet, 'young' wraiths they are.

Of course you remember ours is a rather moral crowd? 'Cull the wicked. Preserve the worthy' and all that. They do not kill indiscriminately. They just don't. Yes, there have been occasional digressions, but those are rare and cause much guilt. 

So does shopping..... Oh, these 'people' in no way lack for money. Still, they do have certain principles. Tithing is real big with them and many a congregation along the Judeo-Christian-Islamic railroad owes its existence to their largess. Yet Tomas (our '18 year old' Andalucian, Sephardic hero) will have his leather bootkins, his trim, dark suits, plus an occasional assortment of tattoos. You know, tattoos don't last on vampire skin. They tend to shed them every few months, usually on the solstices and the equinoxes. 

Sarah hungers for niceties too. At first she was discrete, a fine soft cashmere here, a glittering bauble there. Though lately she's become more 'artistic.'  Various boutiques scattered around Center City (the original, old core of Philadelphia, analogous to Nueva York's Manhattan) arrange private, after midnight showings. She's still rather conservative, Ralph Lauren and all that. But the look suits her and she knows it. 

And you know what? They're taking me too. Some vampirinos and vampirinas do take their human familiars, but this will be my first time, as I've only been with them a little more than two years. Perhaps I'll learn a bit of magic too. Edith, our Jersey, Piney 'seer,' says I do show a bit of the 'far eye' (remote vision, telepathy), so we'll see.

Eng-a-land swing, like a pendulum do..... And soon it's gonna swing a little more.

THE REVELS!!... THE REVELS!!... I can't believe it.

Just wait. Be patient. Give us a couple weeks. We'll be back. You'll see. BINGO BOY returns tomorrow. But I thought you'd like to know...

And just in case you're interested, wanna see what the Chicago contingent is up to? They got a really cool 'frontman.'  Look for him here ALEXIOS .

As always, we only pretend this is fiction. But you already knew that. 

May THE SEASON OF MIRACLES shine bright for you and yours~~~~ Billy (me) ...the one who blogs all this...

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51ST BINGO BOY episode 12/22/12

BINGO BOY - post 51

Welcome. Welcome, Oh, best beloved. Witness the first day of the New Beginning. Yes, I heard many of you saying we were wrong. But we of the Fifteen Kingdoms are not wrong. Palenque was right. Chitzen Itza was right. Ush Mal was right too. I do not recall the names of the rest, for I have been dead so long. What do they call me? You could not say it. Your tongue is crippled for such words. So do not sing our songs. Just call me Bayba.

And I have never so much as breathed the air of your land, for they brought me here as a mummy, dragged out from my tomb beneath the Temple of Kul Kul Can. Would they do the like today? I think not. But this was long ago, before machines learned to fly. Now I rest in a case deep within the Meso-American wing of a great Philadelphian museum. School children, barely into their first katun, go 'ewww' when they see me. But, oh, how I smile at them.

My spirit flits about the city like a hummingbird. I go north. I go south. Toward the dawn. Toward the dusk. The tale of 'The Ricky and The Little Chrissie' is quite known to me. So permit me to narrate what happened today.... In our hearts, The First Day... The Dawn of All Things New.... How I miss the piquant casseroles of my homeland. But I digress. So let me go on.....

Thing - the - First~~~ The people from the magic talking box (TV) cornered the one known as Marty as he ate a sausage stuffed with giant deer fat on the street. I believe you call it a hot dog. They beckoned him into a wheeled vehicle (truck) and regaled him with visions on a little box. He saw the bingo hall. He saw the games. He saw looks pass between hard, low-born women, as they pretended to win a game they had not. A woman who worked for the magic box spoke. She said - We have hours and hours of tape. And it gets so very much worse. What have you to say? ..... But Marty was silent. His eyes bulged out, but he was silent. And he pushed her aside, as he escaped the dark confines, and tumbled onto the street. 'Muscles' was there to help him to his feet. They ran back inside, raced down the center aisle, disappearing into the room behind the mirror, where they locked and barred the door.

But the thin, old man, known as Uncle Patsy, never missed a beat and the games, such as they were, went on, as he droned out the numbers to a mesmerized throng. 

That is how 'Thing - The - First' began....

Thing - The - Second, is less volatile. A woman on the cusp of her third and fourth katun (20 year period) rides in the back of a great, mechanical conveyance. I believe you call it a Lincoln Town Car Limousine. It has a silvery, metal skin. I do not know the provenance. And a well-stitched leather interior crafted from the hides of the same giant deer used to make the fatty, street-side sausages. She listens to music, escaping from discrete, little tambors (speakers) hidden throughout this special vehicle. She dreams of a rather trim old man, who awaits in a city by the sea. I believe you call it 'the Jersey Shore'?

They must talk and make decisions. Her heart beats, as the huge Lincoln thing rolls on. She gazes at the cold, evergreen woods racing passed the window. A strange, little, juvenile creature ( young Jersey Devil) gazes back. But she does not see him. Perhaps he is a northern variation of my homeland's chupacabra?

Thing - The - Third plays out quite near the smoky bingo hall. A stout, young woman, known as Big Chrissie, buys a meal at the counter of a pressed-giant-deer meat-pattie-vendor. The drowsy girl on the other side says - Hello. and how many pounds of food does the lady wanna eat today?.... But a manager runs over to correct her. He says - That ain't how it goes!.... The counter girl rolls her eyes. She goes - All right! I know! I forgot! Go to hell! Go to hell! (you know how much they love that phrase 'round here). Then she smiles at Big Chrissie (who appears to be in some sort of distress) and continues - How many pounds of food does the 'nice' lady wanna eat? And do you got any fuckin' coupons? You gotta tell me now, or else a lot a crappy shit is gonna happen, OK?....... Big Chrissie belches and responds. She goes - No coupons. And I think I'm gonna have the pound-a-food special....... Then, as the counter girl pushes ' Santa Claus Spicy French Fries'  on her (they get points), Big Chrissie's water breaks and gushes down all over the wood patterned, laminate floor. I think some splashed on a little boy eating a chicken skin nugget, but he don't care...... Without missing a beat, the counter girl yells - Baby water clean up on register one! Baby water clean up on register one!........ Somebody gives Big Chrissie a medicinal brew, known as a Diet Coke. 

And thus did Marty's third child begin it's trip into our world.

Now please allow me to drift back toward my sarcophagus. I yearn for my desiccated cadaver. But pay attention, oh best beloveds. The world is new now and things will begin to change.....

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50TH BINGO BOY episode 12/21/12

BINGO BOY - post 50

Too-Many-Cookies gotta run home. She take two slices of american cheese for her bagel and she lactose intolerant. That mean she get the milk-shits. Doan wanna stink up no neighbor toilet so she run back across the street to her house. Got all them Target catalogs she like in there anyway. You know she do plan to re-do the place.

Little Chrissie and Ricky run upstairs. Baby in his play pen. He watchin' Kelly Rippa an' that new guy playin' her 'husband' wit' them David Letterman teeth he got. Marge still talkin' a Jimmy. She smilin'. She twistin' the cord. This a old phone an' it still gotta cord. I doan like them, 'cause you could hang a baby wit' it. But Marge ain't got that much money an' it still work and all. Ricky jus' stand there lookin'. Little Chrissie sit on the bed. She wanna hear, but Marge keep pushin' her away. Old folks, or almost old folks look sickening talkin' lovey-dovey like that. Wanna kick 'em in the stomach an' make 'em shut up. Then Marge go - Mwah!.... like she kissin' him and all. Then she go - Yeah, yeah, yeah. OK, ok. Bye. Mwah! Mwah!..... an' she hang up. Little Chrissie go - What the hell did that bastid want!?..... She mad, 'cause he run away and leave 'em in a parking lot. But he only do it to get back at 'em for almost killin' him. 'Sides, wanna see what in the next safe deposit box all by himself.

Marge still smilin' and all. She say - He want me to meet him...... Little Chrissie go - Where?..... Marge go - Down the shore. Say he gone send a car for me. I say, 'OK. I be ready tomorrow. Say he wanna talk wit' me. You all invited, but not the first day. Say he not mean a run away from both a you. It jus' happen. He go, 'You know how it is?' I go, 'Uh huh.'... You know, I think he really love me.

So they help her get ready. Little Chrissie wax her up real good, her mustache, her legs and all. Ricky drive 'em to a mall what got a Target AND a Kohl's, 'cause she wanna look real nice. This gone be like a honeymoon, maybe. Buy new underwear, couple twelve ninety nine brassieres. Doan get no dresses, 'cause shore get cold in winter. It nice. People go. Air feel good, but it cold. An' she doan even know what shore he talkin' 'bout. Jersey got a lot a towns. So it gone be like a surprise. Baby hungry. Lucky they by a Chinese buffet. Not that baby gone eat all that stuff. But you do get you money worth.

An' all the while this gone on, TV truck pullin' up to the bingo hall. It doan look like no TV truck. This one plain. It like a secret TV truck made for sneakin up on folks. They gone put Marty on the news. They gone ask him how come he cheat so much? They gone grab Diane an' the other one. I think that what they named. You know. The shills. Place gone be all lit up. Marty gone shove his hand up at that camera. He gone say - Please leave. I have nothing to say...... Muscles gone get fresh wit' TV gal. He gone push her. But she talk real fas'. She talk real tough. She gone shut him up right away. 'Sides, she got her own 'Muscles.' It gone be like Mardi Gras. I doan wanna miss it. But that not happen yet. An' back at the shoppin' center, they still buyin' Marge her 'maybe' trousseau. Little Chrissie get her a nice tube a lipstick too.

Everybody happy Jimmy call. He the one wit' the money. An' now it look like he DO wanna share. Little Chrissie say they gotta buy some clothes for when they go down too. But she wanna go to H&M. Ricky jus' say - Uh huh....'cause he still thinkin' 'bout the money.

It funny how things go. Marge actin' all young an' all. You doan even see that tooth she got missin'. 'Sides, it not up front, so who care.

Baby see a not so little plastic piano he wanna bang on. He like that. It shape like a dinosaur what got piano in its ribs. Cost like thirty dollar, but they so happy they buy that too.

It like a four-day-early Christmas present. Then they fall in a car an' go home.

Marge start singin' a song. She go - Fairy tale can come true. It can happen to you. If you young at heart.

But Little Chrissie turn on the radio. It got 'That What Christmas Mean To Me, My Love.'.... You know, the dum da dum da dump dump da dump song? 

Everybody like that better....

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