Vampires Jonathon and Baylah With the 'Sandies"... 6/12/15

I am a very, very impatient disembodied, spirit narrator. this post is being written in an extremely accelerated manor. If mistakes are detected, may I rap your noggin quite sharply. For you obviously favor copy editors over bards and should be reading mathematical formula instead of tales. 

The vampires known as Jonathon and Baylah nest under the Boardwalk, visiting with their favorite colony of homeless folk. They share a bottle of top shelf vodka, purloined form a pricey bar in The Tropicana, plus a few drops of night-folk blood, meant to cure Mister Larry's various infirmities. A cool breeze tickles it's way through the pilings. People snooze on bath-sheet sized towels snatched from beachfront cabanas and rental chairs. 

Our philosophical trio, deep in their cups, speaks. 

Mister Larry - (takes a swig) I feel better already. Does this mean I can go mush up with Poxie Dorcas or what?...

Jonathon laughs and nudges him - For the most, but be careful, playful mortal. Although her earlier 'touch' has been lifted, we may not be here when she 'touches' you again....

Baylah - Use 'lambskin,' sprite of the night. Be smart. Steal the fruit, but with a gloved hand. The nectar will still be there.

The mortal belched and sniffed. He said - I really like you two, even if you are Jehovah's Witness, or vampires, or whatever you are.

Baylah leaned against Jonathon and said - I think he gets it.

Jonathon added - Just another path toward God..... 

And they all laughed. Then the male vampire (Jonathon) said - How go the funds?... Mister Larry said - You mean 'money?'

Jonathon nodded. His healed friend continued - It's run away from home. Off to join the carnies, I think. Gimme the bottle (and they did)..... Gambling? - said Jonathon..... What other way is there? - asked the mortal. God damned carnies.

Baylah slipped him a bauble. A four carat, emerald ring. Her friend knew the drill. Soon it would be sold to a buyer of gold and gems, an avaricious, not quite gentleman in a cramped dusty salon on Pacific Avenue, for an 'almost' partially fair price. But it would be enough to buy him forgetful pleasure for a while. They'd tried rehabilitation, but Mister Larry craved not permanent salvation... not with a night-folk spider web to save him.

So they sat there a while, telling secrets and humming songs. Then Larry scrambled off to buy his treasure and sample fresh wares. Perhaps he'd join a game post ablutions in a tucked away, though decent motel, after donning a new t-shirt, blue jeans and drawers?

Vampires like helping mortals... amusing ones, I mean.

They call them 'meat puppets,' funny automatons desperate for cheap thrills and gross sensations...

Not at all like cultivated night-folk...

At least that's what they thought....

<more next time>

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And, oh yes... 'sandies' are they who live under the boardwalk.

A MEMORY AS LONG AS LIFE... 6/11/15

Meanwhile, while Baylah and Jonathon were out dispensing favors to poor homeless folks under the Boardwalk, the eternally conscious, Lucid Wanderer woman, known as Boo-Kah-Lay-Nah, sits on the beachfront terrace telling stories to the Red Paint guy and I forget who else. Someone gave her vodka, so she's very, very talkative...

Boo-Kah-Lay-Nah says - I am aware. I have always been aware. I remember every life I have ever lived. I start each as an infant. Some were short. Baby-death was an everyday occurrence back then. I died in wars... And please know 'war' was a very different thing. Death came from knives... disembowelment... beheadings...or arrows, or spears, or caustic, searing liquids... I think you get the idea. The whole thing was much more intimate. They grabbed little ones by their legs and smashed innocent brains against rough, stone walls.... A world without compassion. That's what we had... (she sighs and eats a little popcorn) Not that we have much compassion now.

From whence comes your first memory? - asks the Red Paint guy. The old woman thinks for a few heartbeats and says - Do you mean my fist human memory, or my first animal awareness?..... I hadn't considered - said Mister Red Paint... She chortled and passed him the popcorn... I lived through the hominid-human progression, you know and various other transformations before that. Earliest incarnations were primarily indistinct blurs... a bit of light... feeding... weightlessness in a warm sea. Imagine billions of years in a soup like that. You know there were lifeforms before The Coming Of The Moon? Simple algae-like things we were. Then 'Evil Auntie' came. That's how I think of her, that semi-formed world who did us all in. A Mars-like globe, she was and she killed everything that lived. No pain. Physical sensations were far in the future. But all that was just stopped. And if any 'knowing' form somehow witnessed the horrific cataclysm, the sight alone would have sent them shrieking into oblivion.... mega-tsunamis of molten lava and a sky made from crumbling rock. If you crave a taste, google The Movie Melancholia on You Tube. See? I have acquired a bit of your age. 

Do you know there were civilizations long before Kemet (Egypt) and Sumer.... long before the half formed city-states of Anatolia and Jericho? I know, for I was there.... Ulan-Kah-Nok they called it. Four hundred and fifty thousand souls, hard by the north shore of the Black Sea...terra cotta pipes, oil lamps, vast bazaars and medicinal unguents all the way from Central Asia. But the Great Flood cured all that. Oh, it's still there, far beneath the surface of the new Black Sea. They'll rediscover it. You'll see.

Then she cackled and coughed out something in Ulan-Kah-Noki, which in case you're interested, meant Children of the Sun.

Three minutes later, she fell asleep...

The Red Paint guy waved his hand in front of her face. She just snored. Then he gingerly took the popcorn bowl from her lap and finished it, there on a seaside terrace, under a midnight moon...

<more with Jonathon and Baylah next time>

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Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: These are the days of EL RANCHO TEXACO ..... Aboar...

Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: These are the dats of EL RANCHO TEXACO ..... Aboar...: We were going to run the blockade. The Empire of China could not stop us. This is the Twenty-First Century, flagship of the most venerable M...Aboard a ten mile long space liner of the Jeroboam Class, streaking toward Mars, filled with North American and Muscovite allies, in anticipation of WAR (or something close to it) with THE EMPIRE OF CHINA.... Click on that EL RANCHO TEXACO line up above to see the whole thing..And if you like it, please click NEWER POST or OLDER POST at the bottom to see more...



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Buddy Holly - Everyday..Vampire Jonathon Patrols Under The Boardwalk.. 6/6/15

They liked his performance. The one called Boo-Kah-Lay-Nah and her Red Paint colleague approved. Jonathon did the deed. The Earth destroying plutocrat is dead. On that same night, thirty seven other 'Global Warmers' met He Who Made the World too. No one claimed credit... not openly. But surviving Earth-Warmers got the message. Within days there was a big Ice, Ice, Baby conference scheduled for some schloss near Basel, where the Bilderberg group once met. They had chilled vodka and gravlax and caviar and gourmet herrings (yes, there are gourmet herrings) as they discussed how to bring the chill back.. Then they raffled off faux fur coats (good ones) that looked like lynx and Arctic Fox and ermine (winter mink)... OK, it was a start. But steps were taken and fourteen ice shelves (eleven in Antarctica and three in Greenland) each grew an average of .4% and Bangladesh recovered two thousand hectares of much needed farmland. ... Seven or eight recalcitrant plutocrats 'disappeared' a bit later, just to keep 'em all on their toes.

But I jump ahead. Disembodied spirit narrators view time differently. I'm sorry. I do that. Please try to understand. Let me go back to a night soon after Jonathon 'sublimated' that man to death...

He sat there with the 'old' Lucid Wanderer... the Boo-Kah-Lay-Nah woman and her Red Paint companion from that obscure, Greenlandic fjord. Baylah (the Beyonce Knowles, three hundred year old, Tuareg princess vampire from Timbuctu) was there too. Her mortal boyfriend bustled around making sure everybody had enough cold vodka (night-folk love cold vodka)... plus he kept all the aroma candles lit. Vampires, in particular, have a thing for aroma candles. Jonathon's townhouse in Center City, Philadelphia often reeks from Yankee Candle 'Apple blossom.'

Boo-Kah-Lay-Nah said - We shape the world. We chisel off rough spots and imperfections. We lure humanity into the future and last night, Jonathon did his part..... The Red Paint man nodded. Then they just sat there in silence, meditating like Quakers. Baylah's rich, mortal boyfriend sat with them. But Boo-Kah-Lay-Nah shot him a look when he and his vampire girlfriend started makin' faces at each other and stickin' out their tongues, so he went out on the seaside terrace and ate a plate of cocktail franks. Turns out Lucid Wanderers and Red Paint types don't like 'em. ... Who knew? They say, during the early middle ages, some clans of witchy-folk cured all kinds of bacon... some made from you-don't-wanna-know-what, but to each her own... Boyfriend-guy don't care. He's watchin' the big play-off game on his smart phone too.

Few heartbeats later Baylah comes out. She breathes deep and goes - Night air smells so good, especially here at the shore. (she looks at the greasy plate) Did you eat all those cocktail weenies?.... He goes - No. Some fell on the ground.... But she knows he's a liar... Then she says - I'm going into Atlantic City with Jonathon.... Mortal boyfriend says - You want me to go?..... She says - You don't have too. We're gone under the Boardwalk..... He goes - Homeless stuff?..... She goes - Uh huh. And I don't want you getting sick. You got your inhaler?..... He goes - Yeah...... Baylah says - I could give you a drop or two of the blood, you know. Homeless folk take it. You want it?..... He just shakes his head. She worries about him. Mortals are so fragile. They break like glass. Worse than glass, like Christmas tree ornaments. But he's stubborn. Got his ways. Tomorrow she'll do something. So she kisses the top of his head and leaves.

The number of homeless people under the Boardwalk isn't huge. They got maybe three or four 'colonies.' Sometimes they move around. They know how to steal blankets and towels from the hotels. Each group has a few 'walkers.'..... People who look good. People who can get in to the big hotels. Most are women. They 'do stuff' for the guys who got keys to supply closets... mostly in winter, when it's cold. But summer can be rough too. It's dark down there... Got mold... Got dead cats... dead other stuff.

This town ain't unique. Every place got its 'nooks and crannies.' Ever see what New York got?... Or Vegas... Or Mohenjo-Doro?... Excuse me. That last one's before your time.

Jonathon likes ministering to poor folks. He can make do with being a vampire, but what he really wants to be is a saint... Yeah, like that's gonna happen.

They could sublimate into Atlantic City. It's only a few miles away. But Jonathon doesn't want to. Killing folks, without visions and all, does that to him. Baylah knows. she understands. Vampires aren't monsters... not in real life anyway. So she gets out the black Porsche and drives in....

She says- You want me to turn on the radio?... But Jonathon doesn't answer. He just looks out the window, as they roll down the 'cottage' lined avenue...

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Aladdin - Prince Ali [High Quality]..

Just a break til I can post again....

Who doesn't LOVE this song?

If only the region was a little like Hollywood wants it to be..

Superficial 'show biz' ain't always a bad thing. Too often they throw out the baby with the bath water...

The 'romance' of The Middle East...ALL NATIONS in The Middle East... can go a long way...

At one time this was the most progressive region on Earth...

At one time.....

Stop looking for reasons to hate...

(I don't know... just what I feel like saying)



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A VAMPIRE RUINS A MID CENTURY HENREDON DINING TABLE WHILE KILLING A GUY... 6/4/15

This early in the season, the town is quiet... Not 'dead,' just quiet. You might ride your bike down Ventnor, or Atlantic Avenues under a full yellow moon with nary a car to bother you. Some houses are dark. Others have a light or two. A certain number of homeowners have this thing they do. Huge, over-the- mantle flat screens (hooked up to automatic timers) beam Bravo's best through large, architectural windows, like digital whores in a beachy Amsterdam. You can hear the surf. You can hear the 'click' of traffic lights, as they run through their limited spectrum. Baylah (our vampire beauty with a rich, mortal boyfriend) loves midnight strolls. Fritzie, her fluffy, little friend, loves them too. She's not a vampire... just a Bichon Frise and quite well trained. Doesn't bark, or anything.
She picks up Jonathon's scent... not the dog, the vampire. He's in a house... a Jazz Age, white stucco, 'cottage.' She feels him pass through the foyer and make his way upstairs. How silent the place is. I suppose you might call what Baylah does 'remote viewing.' She's very good at it. Even while mortal she had the talent and once experienced the sacking of a rival Tuareg capital from her desert boudoir in Timbuctu. 

The house was almost empty. Two domestics, a couple, snoozed away in the room by the kitchen. Freshwater tropical fish, vivid, little Harlequins, danced to and fro in their clean, well decorated, hundred gallon prison.... just the thing to separate the den from the kitchen. The rest of the house was dead, save for an occasional spider, or feathery centipede (mortal enemies, I am told) and the snoring plutocrat in the master suite. He fell asleep during a God damned rerun of The Mentalist, while waiting for James Corden. Just because he's a plutocrat, deserving of death, doesn't mean he isn't discerning. You can see the spitballs decorating the screen where The Mentalist's face used to be. Not that he's world ranked, or anything. But there was an old Bic pen in the night table, plus two sleeves from them red Wendy's straws left from a Christmas visit, so bombs away.

Jonathon studied him from the foot of the bed. Was the alarm on? Of course it was. But vampires have a way to foil that via a semi-sublimation thing they do. Many of you know 'sublimation' is the term for what happens when vampires pass through matter... air, water, drywall, trash bags filled with used Kotex... anything. They excite their molecules to the point where they begin to disassemble, thus making themselves invisible.... even to the naked eye..... So the global warming criminal (petro chemicals, you know) never knew what hit him. Did Jonathon drain him? No. He'd have to solidify for that. Some vampires wouldn't mind. Go see all the real vampire videos on You Tube. But he's too discrete for that. So he just fell on top of him...sublimated through the blanket... through the skin, the flesh, the offal, the bones, the linens, the mattress and all the way down to the mid century Henredon dining room table below. That's where he stopped. Left a shredded, pulpy, bloody mess in his wake. Ruined the table, but what are you gonna do? It's what happens when vampires sublimate through living flesh. The excited molecular chains within their bodies slice through meat like fine, sharp piano wire... millions of microscopic resonating strands. And Baylah saw it all. She met him when he passed through the wall and materialized out on the street. Fritzie squirmed around and tried to break free. She wanted to lap up all the blood. Baylah gave her a few drops from her own finger. That shut her up. Not many people around, but still... you can't be too careful.

Then they tip-toed back to her boyfriend's house and drank vodka...

Boo-Kah-Lay-Nah was very pleased. In fact, I've never seen an old lady grin like that. And although I'm a disembodied, spirit narrator whose seen many things, the sight of it almost made me pee myself...

If I still had a urine filled bladder, that is...

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Our Vampire, Jonathon, Meets The Mysterious, Red Paint Visitor... 6/2/15

The 'other one' appeared. Jonathon expected a vampire, or perhaps a Lucid Wanderer, but this one was different. A mortal, he looked just like a mortal. Maybe it was the smell more than his appearance. Vampires are excellent trackers. In some parts of Eastern Europe, captive vampires were used as scent hounds. Better than scent hounds they were. Traitors, heretics and criminals didn't stand a chance, since the vampire who found them was also their executioner. Nobles and warlords staged midnight banquets to watch the carnage. Powerful magnates were known to join the vampire-executioner and rip off bits of the heart for themselves and certain other honored guests. But that's another tale.

The newcomers sat in the darkened solarium, staring out at the stormy surf. Jonathon came in and quietly took a seat in a nearby club chair. Then the strange visitor spoke. He said - Lightning at sea is especially terrible, don't you think? No where to hide. Imagine a small, oaken ship fighting not only the waves, but fire from the sky as well. Pity the poor seaman, usually little more than a cabin boy, sent aloft to trim the sails. Sharks sense electricity, you know. It excites them. Lightning must be like a drug... or an appetizer. The ocean's full of ghosts, you know...... Do you speak from experience? - asked Jonathon..... The man just chuckled.... What should I call you? - said Jonathon.... Take your pick - said the man. Times change. Names change. Languages come and go. You know that, vampire. How goes the telepathy with you? What do you think? ..... Jonathon sampled the ether for a moment and said - Red Paint. You hail from The Red Paint People, yet not a Red Paint from The Pines. You don't have the look..... You mean the Captain Jean-Luc Picard look? - asked the visitor.... Jonathon nodded....You see, I can read your mind too - said the old, old soul. No, I come from another remnant, a small, hidden colony deep within a chill, south Greenland fjord..... And your name? - said Jonathon...... The man appraised him for a few heartbeats and said - Call me Nils, but know that we were there, on that icy coast eons before those herring eaters showed up.....

Am I going to kill someone tonight? - whispered Jonathon.....

What do you think? - said the visitor.

Then he got up, motioned for Jonathon to join him and together they went out into the storm. Vampires care little for weather. Apparently, this strain of Red Paint People is the same.

They walked, bent into the wind, for a few blocks, til they came to a large house, a meticulously maintained nineteen twenties, white stuccoed 'cottage.'.... The man said - He's in there. I believe your instincts are keen, vampire. You need no instructions from me. Am I right?.... Jonathon nodded and went straight to his task, sublimating through the wall and into an old fashioned cloak room. Then he passed through the entry hall, barely lit by a small table lamp and soundlessly made his way up the stairs...

A plutocrat would disappear and maybe the Earth would be better because of it....

< more next time>

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