Thursday, June 25, 2015

The Vampire, Jonathon, Tells About A Zombie Show... 6/25/15

Once, long ago, I witnessed a Tot Wocher (dead walker, or zombie) Fleisch Esseren (flesh eatting). Please forgive me, but my Vahmperghan (Central European, German influenced, Vampire dialect) ist nicht sehr gut. They had a woman. They like women. The skin is easier to bite through. The meat... the muscle tissue is more tender... and they whimper so piteously. What? Did you think they scream the whole time? Well, they do not. Oh, it's not that the pain and shock lessens. But after a while a pathetic, though actually quite heroic, ennui sets in. You've seen the slow, almost beatific gasps of antelope, as lionesses rip out their guts? Not out on the streets. I mean on television. That's how it is with 'Die Essen' (the meal)....

This was in the thirteenth or fourteenth century, in a place that was neither holy, nor Roman, nor an empire. A certain graf (count) threw a banquet. The high age of castles and all that. Huge tapestries lined the rough stone walls. Vast fireplaces... more like bonfire-places bracketed the ends. We were seated at two, heavy, long, oak tables. In the middle, was the cage... a roughly twelve by twelve by twelve foot wrought iron cube. The bars were really very thin... just strong enough to keep the girl in. She wore a loose, linen smock. Under that, she was bare. The Fleisch Esseren would shred it in heartbeats. It was all part of the show. I'm sure she was drugged, but not too much. 

The 'zombies' were lowered from an opening in the high, vaulted roof, each one hanging from the neck, via stout, hemp ropes. They have strong necks, you know... at least the ones in those parts did. There were three of them and they thrashed and snarled like beasts... But you'd expect that. Nobles and consorts put down their dainty steel knives to watch. I remember how colorful the rafters were... all painted in bright reds, greens and yellows. Besides the huge fireplaces, scattered torches provided additional light. Oh, it was all rather lurid and shadowy, but we could see. Musicians provided a sad dirge on lutes, pipes and timbrels. Let me tell you... This was a big production. 

One zombie lacked a nose, maybe a few fingers, but other than that they were intact. Oh, before I forget, they too were covered by loose, linen smocks. People angled their heads to peek up under the hems. Zombie 'privates' along with 'mummia' were (in powdered form) considered to be potent restoratives and certain members of the walking dead were not so intact. But they didn't seem to care. 

The girl in the cage naturally saw them coming. She stared. She prayed. She spat at the crowd. They just watched. Then, one of the zombies, obviously a fresh one with a lingering bit of humanity, focused on someone in the audience. He pointed and said something in a dead, raspy voice. Mortals crossed themselves. To be addressed by a zombie is a horrible thing. 

When they reached the floor of the cage the ropes were dropped and the three Fleisch Esseren removed the nooses. Then they got down on all fours and crawled toward the victim, who was curled up and crying in a corner. First they sniffed. Then they tasted... No bites... just tongue. One, the older, more battered male, thrust his head under her smock. The girl screamed. Then it was on. They bit and tore and ripped like vultures. Thin strips of flesh snapped out toward the crowd. Ladies cowered. Their men watched impassively, as the girl, now completely stripped, began to wail. Those in the seats began to chew their meat almost reflexively. Pork favors human flesh. You know that.

A baker's boy tripped with a tray of rolls. The graf glowered, then, on a whim, snapped his fingers and said - Toss that dirty, little, son of a bitch in too. They cheered with delight as he sailed over the bars. Eleven years old is old enough..... 

< to be continued >

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Thursday, June 18, 2015

TALES OF A VAMPIRE ABATTOIR ..6/18/15

Why do you feel guilty? - the silver haired Lucid Wanderer woman said.
Jonathon did not answer. He just sat there and stared at the people going by. He likes casino coffee shops and visits them whenever he's in Atlantic City. .. 
The Lucid Wanderer followed his gaze. --- What do you owe them? - she said. I don't mean on a micro level. I don't mean person to person, but as a whole... as a herd.  And don't talk to me about 'your vows.' Mortals have made vows for ages and the world never gets better. Maybe there're islands here and there, but just here and there. Imagine if you killed three a night... No credit.. No, what should I say, publicity? Just clean, hot kills. If you don't want to drink their blood, don't drink their blood. You didn't do it the other night. But vampires have powers. Murder comes natural to your kind. God's stilettos, so to speak. (eyes crowd) I bet they think that word means shoes....... It seems our Lucid Wanderer lady is a bit of a misanthrope.

Jonathon inhales the vapors rising from his exotic brew. Night-folk love rich aromas. Then he says - Where were you during The Renaissance?.....
Which Renaissance? - she says. There was an Islamic Renaissance around Samarkand and Tashkent, you know and Southeast Asia had quite a spell during... well, I forget what dynasty, but you know what I mean. You see, I haven't always been a 'westerner,' but you have....

Is that supposed to diminish me? - asks the vampire.
I don't know - says the lady. Consider it just another observation....

He nods..... She asks - Well, where were you?
I covered the waterfront, so to speak. The 'western world' was quite varied- he says.

No no no, don't go all scholastic on me. Tell me what you did. Who did you kill? Who did you not kill. And was it fun?

He studies her and says - You're going to die soon, aren't you.

She shrugs...

A human phoenix, that's what you are...

That's what they call Lucid Wanderers in China. Look, indulge me. Tell me some good stuff before I go (he gives her a look). Well, before I move on....

The vampire takes a teeny tiny sip of coffee. That much he can tolerate. Then he goes - I once hung a victim by his ankles, legs about two feet apart, and sawed my way through from groin to skull, straight down the vertebrae. I think they have thirty six, you know.....

When did he die? I assume it was a 'he' - she says..... 

They live as long as the heart and lungs continue functioning. No, maybe two or three minutes after that...

Do they thrash and scream a lot? They must...

Not so much. (he gestures) The wrists are shackled to the floor...

And they're naked?...

Of course they're naked. Half the people in The Renaissance were naked torture victims and the other half waited their turn....

She stifles a laugh and says - See, that's what I meant. Your 'fun' side. I want to see your fun side. What about blood orgies? Ever have any blood orgies?

How many is an orgy? - he asks.....

When you lose count - says the woman known as Boo-Kah-Lay-Nah. It talks a village to nourish a vampire... and she laughs...

Jonathon laughs too. They have huge stone basins, maybe thirty five feet across and fifteen feet deep. There's a drain in the middle. Two or three vampires go in.....

Are they naked? - she asks....

Well, considering what's coming, they'd have to be. This is like in a dungeon.... torch light... grease stained walls. Witnesses file in, dressed in black, beaded, Renaissance finery... faces white with chalk... hair blackened... lips all gray... eyes too. Then dungeon masters open a portal one gallery down and throw in the victims. Peeled like grapes they were. Oh, they greased the surface of the bowl to make them slide. A regular abattoir  it was. In fact, that was the name for it. Go right for the throat, we did... or the groin, or any other pressure point. Did you ever hear of nineteenth century rat pits, where they'd put a few terriers in a pen filled with rats and sporting types placed bets in how many rats each dog would kill? Same with us... And for a while, I was blue ribbon champ of Britain and The Low Countries....

I'm impressed - said the Lucid Wanderer...

But Jonathon, usually a moral restrained chap, was quite aroused by that confession and distracted by a plump, young thing busy with a creamy latte...

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Tuesday, June 16, 2015

THE VAMPIRE, JONATHON TALKS TO US... 6/16/15

I speak tonight. Jonathon speaks tonight. Not anyone else. I am still at the seashore. Baylah's mortal 'friend' has a laptop and he set it up for me to use. I know how to type, after a fashion. I can do that. 

It's been said, that Earth mirrors Heaven. You are worldly reflections of angels. And just as Those On High assume new duties four times each spiritual cycle, so too do you.... To everything there is a season and a time for every purpose under Heaven. Well, the seasons are about to change. If you haven't done anything, do something now. It's time. On June 21st, the Earth sits balanced in space. And I know these things are but physical representations. But light reigns triumphant. Indeed, no 'day' can have more light. Let it shine in you. I am Jonathon and I am a life-eater. Most call me'vampire.' Most are wrong. You who've been with us since the beginning... and I speak of the beginning of this site, or 'blog' as it is called, know me. Yes, I have my vanities. But I am more than that. We are all more. Don't sell yourself short. Feel the light.

That's it. I'm done preaching... A Nazarite, a consecrated 'monk' I am not.... though sometimes I like to play that I am.

On June 21st I shall go out. I shall put on a clean white shirt, trim black jeans and bowing to the season, fine black driving slippers in place of my well known, black leather bootkins. I will go out and I will do good things. Maybe I'll wander the casinos giving hundred dollar bills to despondent losers? I'll show my fangs... Scare them a little, so they go home and not back out on the floor.

Will I 'cull' anyone? What do you care? Just so I don't cull you. 

Strange how songs stay in my mind. I know madrigals from the eleventh century and rock from last week. But 'old standards' are my favorite. Google Bing Crosby's TEMPTATION on You Tube... You'll see.

I think it's quite fitting for someone like me.

The Red Paint gentleman peeks over my shoulder. He's not too familiar with the 'web.' He studies every key stroke.

God, that makes me nervous. I think I'll trot out onto the beach and take a swim. Wee hour swims under a bright, cheesy moon are wonderful. 'Vampires' don't fear sharks, you know...

They fear us...

Good night.

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Monday, June 15, 2015

NIGHT-FOLK MAKE A BIG DEAL OUT OF MIDSUMMER'S NIGHT.. 6/15/15

The two vampires returned from their rounds. Baylah and Jonathon crept into the beachfront residence of her wealthy, mortal man friend and joined Boo-Kah-Lay-Nah in the sun room. No one spoke. Paranormal folk speak only when necessary, for they have other means of communication, more visceral and true.

The old, Lucid Wanderer, known as Boo-Kah-Lay-Nah sighed and whispered - It is as it always was. Goodness and justice is out there, though elusive and hard to find, while bitter fruit litters the ground. You did your part. You helped people... and The Universe knows that. Then, just before dawn, the two night-folk went to their shuttered rooms, there to spend the day. Baylah slept soundly. Jonathon dozed fitfully, accompanied by piped in Broadway scores. First came Bali Hai... Next came Camelot... Third, I think was Gravity... Not the cosmic force... the song from Wicked.

The house awakened. Baylah's rich, mortal consort went fishing. You should see his boat. The Red Paint gentleman strolled the beach, dropping baubles where old grammpy-men with metal detectors could find them. The housekeeper gambled from her smart phone in the kitchen, as gulls wheeled over all.

And based on the deeds of that special night, perhaps two, three or four posts ago, our planet is just a little bit safer. A certain number of selfish souls are gone. The breath of 'Mother Earth' is cooled. The 'culling' was successful... thanks to the vampires. You can always trust the night-folk.

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The Vampire Wonderland is very real. Our old friends know that. They're citizens of Wonderland too, as are we all.

Maybe vampires go a bit crazy this time of year. Darkness is a rarity and they relish what they have. Strange magic simmers to the surface. Elferinos and Elferinas flash over moonlit lakes. Cherubs make merry with the aged.

When next this day shines bright again, Midsummer's Night's Eve falls upon us. The Enchanted Bard, known as Shakespeare (a borrowed night-folk name) knew it and deep within your bodies, you do too.

What manner of revelry appeals to you? What games will you play on this shortest night of the year? Are you open to it?

A boy in Michigan (Upper Peninsula, I think) once cracked an egg into a cast iron pan on Midsummer's Night and found a curled up little man with wings. Whether or not the pan was sizzling, I do not know. But he and his cohorts were deep in the North Woods, where such things regularly happen. The second egg had a tiny, little, beautiful centaur woman in it, all glistening and covered in yolk. I'm thinking they must have been organic.

OK, you've been warned. There's a week to go. Plan something. Conjure something. Howl at the moon. Bewitch somebody. Midsummer's Night... Don't waste it. Taste it.

And don't worry about who I am....
Worry 'bout who you are...

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Friday, June 12, 2015

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.





Thursday, June 11, 2015

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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Tuesday, June 9, 2015

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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