K D LANG skylark..Vampire life Quickens and the Nights Grow Longer... 8/27/14

Tonight I'm not talking about our current story arc. We'll go back to Tomas in his pre-apocalyptic Philadelphia next time. This is about real vampires. Yes, I know. Tomas, also known as Jonathon is real too. But we know him. We feel him. We savor him. Eight hundred thousand words is a long time. Not that every passage is about him. But in a way he inhabits them all. Even THE LITTLE MATCH BOY resonates with his voice. 



This is a nod to the vampires we don't know. They'll be out soon. Long autumn nights soothe them. They walk the streets inhaling all the intoxicating vapors of life. They watch us from the fuzzy periphery of reality... a bit paler... cooler and incredibly still.



Some prowl the rooftops, stretching out to peer through scattered, illuminated skylights. Most skylights lead to bathrooms, you know and vampires love watching us  during those real, unguarded moments. Milky glass means little to creatures adept at tasting the world around them. They feel our heat. They smell our essence, observing us as we observe birds, or small drifting fish in a fish tank. 



And they like to toy with our world, whispering in the ears of poets... Everyone who creates is a poet... and most have heard the vampires' song. 



You know, you might have been a life-eater (term vampires use for themselves) in a past life. They 'die.' They are destroyed. Ever catch yourself staring at a light bulb in a still, quiet room, or contemplating the patterns, lines and contours of your surroundings? Sometimes those are signs. Are you intrigued by strangers... passengers on a bus... diners in a restaurant... people waiting at the emergency room? Do dogs gaze meaningfully into your eyes? Perhaps they sense something?



And 'goth' culture is but a parody of the truth.



Music plays a part in this too. Vampires love 'the old standards.' 



Skylark is a special favorite.



That's why we have it here tonight.



Close your eyes and listen... October comes... Not September... September is the anteroom of fall, as much epilogue to Summer as prologue to what comes next.



But October is something new.



So enjoy summer's end. Breathe in her showy death... rich deep orange sunlight... cerulean skies... warm, sparkling seas... juicy, ripe peaches... the virtuosity of crickets.



One day she'll be gone, replaced by chilly nights, pumpkin pies and vampires.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



click - GHOSTS to browse old posts you might want to see.

click - GOBLINS to join me on Twitter.

please COMMENT. thanks for visiting. 

what are you going to be for halloween?

COMMENT about that too. 

Tomas Tours A Near Apocalyptic Philadelphia ... 8/24/14

Marianne met him at the Sixteenth and Locust Street subway entrance. Figured a stop on the Patco Line would be a little safer. Gets a better clientele and all. Well, it used to. They don't come in town much anymore, unless they're real rich and got like bitches to guard their bodies. And then they roll in on jacked up Humvees. Some convoy. Some got shot up weeks ago when all this started and they dead, stinkin' corpses in a back alley, so who cares?

They all in black. Tomas and Marianne, I mean. He like that look, 'cause it brings out his lean, hard coolness and all. Some people get time before they turn vampire so they can lose weight and buff up a little. Ugly vampires make folks sick and they don't like gettin' barfed on, specially since they fussy 'bout their clothes.

Tomas don't say much. He just look at everything. Most of the stores all smashed up. Maybe a dollar store here and there still open, 'cause you gotta be real dumb to waste time in there, 'less you queer for Off-Brand deodorant and Cartoon Jesus coloring books. Warlords run like general merchandise places... some new merchandise... some used merchandise... stuff what got boosted from rich folks houses... shoes... hot dogs... brassieres... fruit from Chile. Warlords got everything.

Still a mayor, but he like Queen Elizabeth, 'cept without no pocketbook. Don't do nothin'. He jus' a play mayor. Put out Doritos and soda for warlords' meetings and all. Sometime they let him talk. Sometime they don't.  I think he gonna get shot, or maybe pushed out a window. That why he stay downstairs.

Some toilets work. Some don't. Every warlord got his plumbers. Got vampires too. Most only got one, like for an enforcer. Some got two. You might say - How warlord gonna control no vampire?... But these smart warlords. Got that drug. Got dart guns. Vampire collapse. Get collared. That's it. Not like a dog collar or no electric thing. These collars lead. Night-folk krypton. Vampire can't pass through lead. Can't sublimate. If he do his head fall off. But job real cushy, so they don't care.

Bein' a 'free' vampire, dangerous. They get you, they take you to the Lead House. That the old Eastern State Penitentiary... huge, old dungeon-like jail house. Folks been screamin' in there for two hundred years. Used to have' Terror Behind The Walls' Halloween time ... Fake ghosts... real ghosts (actually documented). Werewolves all fake, 'cause real ones too crazy.

Marianne take Tomas to see Roland and Celeste and Albion. They the other elferinos and elferinas (pubescent vampires). Got hidey-holes in Laurel Hill Cemetery. You never gonna find 'em in there. Dark lanes... old trees... lots a bushes... crypts Morticia Addams would love. It like the QUEEN a cemeteries.

All Philly talkin' 'bout what some warlord did. His warlady mush up with kid what brings the pizza. Pizza kid incinerated in genuine brick oven. Made his daddy slide him in and light it up. Warlady got zipped in body bag with gallon jug of purebred Venezuelan bedbugs. They the 'spensive kind. Not that Venezuela got more bedbugs than anywhere's else. They jus' got fancy ones. Took her two days to die, 'cause a the little brass air holes they put in. 

Tomas tear up a little bit when he hear all this. Marianne say - You wanna stay mortal? Might be safer.... 

He jus' shake his head...

I Mister Never You Mind, the old Cajun-Creole disembodied spirit. Been narratin' this here thing for long, long time.... Dead folk gotta keep busy too, you know...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

click - BACON to browse posts you may have missed.

click - EGGS to join me on Twitter. please COMMENT. 

thank you.  

NIGHT TRAIN... treatment for a short HORROR film ... 8/23/14

Something different. Pretended tonight's post was meant for London's FRIGHT FEST. Click on Twitter.com/Film4FrightFest if you want information about that. It's on this weekend. 

Put post on Twitter via Twitlonger.com ... Click on that link if you'd like to learn how to post lengthy pieces on Twitter.

If you'd like to read NIGHT TRAIN ... click on the title. It'll take you to my Twitter account. Look down a few tweets til you see a tweet with this link ~> tl.gd/n_1s5f1hh ... click on that and 'ride the train.'

Wanted to try something new. Thanks for understanding.

See all posts... click - A WHOLE LOT A STUFF 

I get nervous when I try something new. Boy, am I in a sweat.

Pink! performance at oscars 2014... Tomas' First Night Back.. 8/22/14

It was dark down there, not velvety black, not that dark, but dim and shadowy. They were in the tunnels, the ever so deep, never used tunnels of the Philadelphia Subway System.... extra tunnels. Many cities have them, remnants of an age before motor cars. But they do not go to waste. Thin, little trickles of humanity have found their way down there for decades.... a refuge for the homeless... a place of magical exploration. 



Tomas was in a chamber, an old Edwardian restroom. They have them down there... places for business-suited gentlemen to refresh themselves on the way to their concerns.... pull-chain toilets... white enameled, cast iron, pedestal sinks... old mirrors not quite as silvered as they once surely were. A large, zinc bathtub, dragged out from a long forgotten store room, occupied the center of the space. Tomas reclined against an old, canvas drop cloth, folded to cushion the backrest. Sylvia, first daughter to the Mole King, filled it with countless droplets raining down from an old, lead pipe overhead.... eleven decades of never ending subterranean rain. If the tub wasn't there the floor drain would catch it all. Most 'nights' the small, white tiles glistened.



The former vampire leaned back, as the princess of hidden places bathed him.  Neither spoke. They didn't have to. Both knew the routine. Her sister, Aura, knew it too. But she's been missing since the chaos up above first began. Tomas loved the mole people. He enjoyed his time with the underground tribe. Their large eyes were so expressive in the sputtering candlelight. And now, for the first time, he experienced it all as a mortal. The illumination was less varied. Tactile sensations vibrated with a different frequency. But the animal part of it all was deep and overpowering. No blood drinks. That would come later...



When she met him at Penn's Landing, Marianne (the adolescent vampirina) asked if he planned to remain mortal. She, being night-folk herself, was quite willing to change him. But her line was younger and he wanted the old power back. Perhaps they'd reach 'Papa?' Perhaps he'd reappear? Twenty eight thousand year old Cro-Magnon 'life eaters' (another vampire designation) can be so capricious. 



Sylvia dropped the sponge and climbed in. No need to disrobe. She'd already done that. They spooned in the cool, soapy water, then did something else.



After, they dined on grilled mushrooms and roast pigeon. Both raised underground. Mole folk were adept at sun-free husbandry. Some clans kept clean, domesticated rats. Humans can be so resourceful.



Later he'd go up above, exploring old haunts and narrow, cobbled lanes. How different it all was. Armed bands roamed the streets. Flotillas of police helicopters combed the city looking for... well, just about everybody. 'Urban Feudalism' it was called. Municipal government answered to a congress of warlords. And werewolves (they said) prowled the quiet places.



But how had he sublimated down from Franklin's craft? Where did he get the power? ... He didn't know. Tomas just did not know. He wished Sarah was here. He wished Edith was here... even Conrad.



How vulnerable mortals are.



Life is so brutal.



How easy it is to die...



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



click - ALL 1,550 EPISODES to see posts you might have missed.

click - TALK to join me on Twitter (new avatar and all).

please COMMENT. thank you. And in case you want to know 'sublimation' is vampire method for streaking through solid matter (even air) and achieving something very much like invisibility. 

WEST OF THE MOON AND EAST OF THE SUN ... 8/20/14

It was all so easy. Great seething tides of manic, screaming flesh swept through the streets breaking windows, smashing cars and killing people. After a while even the cops joined in. Psychologists might call it 'mass hysteria.' But it was more visceral than that.... Planet of the Apes, but without all the chimps.

They say it started in France. Somebody firebombed a synagogue in Marsailles right at the start of The Biblical New Year. Burnt, cut survivors struggled through shattered windows, falling down to the grass below, only to be bludgeoned by crazed assassins yelling shrill, scriptural mantras.

The next day they did it in Paris, but the sanctuary was empty. And in the dry countryside of the south a bomb went off... a 'small' more or less tactical device, atomic in nature and approximately sixty percent the strength of Hiroshima.

No one died (they think) but the flash and the mushroom cloud were carefully recorded. You Tube never had so many hits. Some group in West Jerusalem claimed credit. The Sword of Gideon, they were called.

Soon after The Missouri Compromise failed. Four guys shot up a 'Peace and Reconciliation' panel in Ferguson. Within hours St. Louis exploded.... an instant Beirut.  And little by little, older, traditional hate groups crept out of their basement warrens scattered throughout the Pacific Northwest and various parishes out by New Orleans. Look, other cities had them too. We're just telling you where it started.

They called up the National Guard. For a while they were effective. Manhattan was quiet... sort of. But then a plane flew over. No bombs.... just a hundred and twelve, late stage Ebola victims, thrown from the hold like candy from a pinata. Each had a parachute. Guess somebody else pulled the chords. They floated down to the city and few knew what it all meant til they saw the t-shirts... plain, white, Hanes t-shirts, each bearing five scrawled letters... E-B-O-L-A. ... When they ordered the guardsmen to round them up (most survived the fall) half deserted. That went viral too (in more ways than one). Rich New Yorkers fled to the rooftops, where helicopters scooped them up, yappy dogs and all and carried them off to God knows where.

Three kids interrupted Governor Christie's news conference in Trenton with about thirty five seconds of cell phone video. Said it was 'werewolves' running through the woods by some shopping mall in Ocean County. Governor tried to browbeat them, but folks like werewolves and they wanted to see.

'Least it took everybody's mind off what Putin did in The Baltics.

That's how it was when Tomas, also known as Jonathon, came back. Franklin tried to stop him. Tried to keep him up there in The Moon. Baby Philadelphia is a sweet little town. And the various alien specimens scattered about the inner surface of Earth's little sister get along much better than the (mostly) human population we got down here.

Gave him a little version of The Poor Richard, piloted by an android. Brought him in right over Philadelphia. Not Baby Philadelphia. This was the real one. Came in low, just above the river. He 'sublimated' into the city from there. One of the elferinas met him. They say it was Marianne. Where they went, who knows.... Gunned-up vigilantes patrolled the streets. Some have armored vehicles 'liberated' from a military depot up toward The Poconos, others make do with Suburu Foresters.

In all honesty the Foresters are much more comfortable... til they get shot up that is.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

click - HERE to look through all Vampire Wonderland episodes.
click - THERE to join me on Twitter.
thanks. hope this posts. PC been crazy lately. Sort of back tonight... sort of. Please COMMENT.

LOST IN A PC-LESS UNIVERSE... 8/16/14

I feel like I'm bleeding. PC was either compromised by virus or screwed up by my deficient digital science. It's in PC -sick bay now. Should have it back by Mon or Tues...(I hope) ..On a desk top thing at public library now. Very confusing. Kids running 'round. People getting paper cuts and screaming...Bedlam. Noboby tempers their voice (including the staff).. It's surreal. My head feels like it wants to buss' open. That probably happens a lot 'round here, cause I see old dried up brain stains on the ceiling. Ewww, the stain two seats over is still dripping.


DEEPLY appreciate everyone who visits blog and explores older post. Like I said, PRAYING to be back by MON or TUES.


Til then, click on HELP BILLY OUT AND EXPLORE OLD STUFF to wander through more than 1,500 weirdly pixilated episodes. And kindly click YADA YADA YADA to join me on twitter...plus you'll see a whole lot of people with interesting timelines too.


THANKS... please COMMENT. And pity the temporary PC-less souls among us.

WHAT OUR PARANORMAL FRIENDS LEARN FROM THE 4D BEING... 8/12/14

It's hard to 'channel' this. The truth comes from the 'characters' in the story. It comes to me and I transcribe it on this laptop. But certain parties do their best to stop it. I don't know who they are, though I have my suspicions. They create malware and virus-like prions. The kids at various 'support' sites do their best. They try to help. But the poisons still drip back. We do not know if these noxious brews come from the world we are all in (you and me) now, or the place where the story comes from. They don't say. 

So I'll get on with it.

The radiance in the cave, the four dimensional being, sees many things. Our 3D lives appear as picture books to them. consider this example. Think of a 'dot' personage in a 2D realm. Pretend he's in a circle. He cannot see anything beyond it. The circle is an impenetrable wall.

Then a 3D being comes along, reaches into the 2D circle with special tweezers and plucks the 'dot' man out. As he rises above the plain of his flat world, he sees it all and realizes its limitations. Going 'up' exists. Going 'down' exists.  Possibilities abound. They are difficult to comprehend, but 'dot' man is now, at least aware of them.

Four Dimensional man is like that. He sees more possibilities. He sees ahead in time and back into time. And he sees movement in every possible direction. Barriers mean little to him. His world is a place of coming together and blending. Distinct personalities swirl and dance into and out of each other. They see. They feel. They know.  Even the sub-atomic particles in such a place exist in a multitude of points at any one instant. Truly 'empty' space is hard to find.

So Doctor Franklin and his companions stand there and listen, or rather absorb, what the being has to share. Some of the information is surprising and new. Most of it is not. 

He tells Tomas to resume his original path. Worry not about the world, but rather separate individuals encountered along the way. 

Sarah is a healer, meant to cleanse the sick with drops of her vampiric blood.

Luna is a scientist, cold and dispassionate.

Billy is an 'illustrator.' His stories (if he tells the right stories) will inform and inspire.

Doctor Franklin chuckles. He doesn't share what he heard. And nobody questions him. But Tomas asks about something else. He says - How does that 'thing' that light in the cave get here?..... Doctor Franklin shrugs. He says - I don't know, not really. But I think he may have started the whole thing.... What 'whole thing?' - asked Tomas. ..... This. The moon. The hollowed out interior of it, I mean. It must be artificial. Physical matter doesn't arrange itself this way. At least not solids. - says the three hundred and eight year old explorer.

Then they exit the cave, really more of a grotto, and walk back toward Baby Philadelphia. I don't know if they eventually got into some conveyance, or walked the whole way. 

It was dark when they left and the handful of ethereal twinkling illuminations, meant to represent stars, sprinkled the void within the bubble-like habitat with a cool and silvery light. 

Jonathon, also known as Tomas, wondered - What was his original path?.... He's had so many.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

click -THE SUN to see old episodes you may have missed.
click - THE MOON to join me on Twitter.
please COMMENT. thank you.