Doctor Franklin sits in his 'residence' and thinks. He has impressive digs in the Philadelphia compound and another in his Pocono annex. The mountain place is more rustic, like an 1890's upper class fishing camp... plaid sofas... twig chairs... rough stone hearth... oak paneled walls. The windows look out on 'the lake.' Not real, like a 3D projection. You have to remember this is all underground.... It's getting dark. The fake, 3D sun goes down over the mountains. He occupies a twig chair by the fireplace. Is it lit? Sure, it's always lit. They have a good air conditioning system here. What do you think?
He goes over his plans to insert vampire assassins into the coteries of inconvenient leaders. But that seems cumbersome now. No need for anything so elaborate. No need to create relationships. Just get them in. Do the deed. Kill the 'mark,' sublimate through the roof and be gone. Who cares what the security cameras show? Who cares what people think? These are vampires. Let them go to hell.
So sublimation it is. They have to learn that skill and it has to be perfect. Most night-folk fall into it naturally after a bit. They exit a 'culling' (sounds so much better than 'a killing') and BOOM, instinctively whoosh up through the ceiling plus any other floors and disappear into the night. He's never done it yet. Luna tries to work with him, but he's afraid. Jonathon used to tell him stories. For centuries he's heard the stories. I mean when he was mortal... an English vampire from Restoration London who solidified while passing through a stout, stone wall.... Crushed clear through he was... legs and hips in the privy... all the rest in the garden, except for the nine inches liquefied into the ancient, Norman masonry.... They burned his nether half before he could retrieve it, or rather before his allies could retrieve it. Familiars spirited away what was left of his upper half. To prevent desiccation they carefully positioned him on a thick, glass table (alchemists had such things). Can you imagine such exquisite torture? Vampires feel their injuries quite acutely. The only difference is they usually survive them. So he was there, balanced on a smooth, reflective surface, as if rising from a cool, clear lake. His spleen, the stump of his spine, raw nerves, a ripped stomach, all manner of offal, pressed against the glass. How he wheezed. The look in his eyes. He knew. He knew what was coming. The had to cauterize the 'wound.' Not with fire. They couldn't use fire. The substance of vampiric bodies drinks it right up. They ignite like tinder. But every drop of blood, lymph and serum oozed from his mangled thorax and they had to stop that. Desiccated vampires endure as papery figures, paralyzed and still, with blind eyes. So they lit a fire in a large stone pot and placed it right under the table. Can you understand how hot a two inch thick slab of glass gets? I don't think you can. Some have been revived. It's very tricky. At times it works. At times the dry tissue and supposedly healing blood combine into a thick, sticky paste-like mess. After that, there's nothing else to be done, but burn what remains. If heaven approves the vampire 'lives.' Soon after a thick, white stiff, rubbery mass sprouts from the truncated spine and from that new growth begins. Victims die like flies to nourish this resurrection. How they shriek and scream at the sight of such monstrosity. Eyes flutter back into skulls, as the clammy arms reach out for them. This all takes place in a very dim chamber. The less seen the better. But they see plenty. Death must be a balm....
Franklin remembers that story. Maybe as a mortal he didn't think about it all the time, but as a vampire forced to master the art of sublimation he does.
Wouldn't you?
So sublimation it shall be. Those trained at 'The Annex' will excel at it. Those who don't will die trying.
It takes real dedication to be a vampire these days... at least in the eyes of a vampire master who seeks to rule the world.....
<more next time. click OLDER POST down below to see what you've missed>
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
click -NIGHT TALK ... to join me on Twitter. I would tell you how to access my RSS but I don't think its working. If you want to see earlier posts just click on OLDER POST at the bottom of each page and travel back that way. please comment. thank you...
And then he saw Jonathon walking through the moonlight. Franklin liked to walk. His body felt renewed. For three hundred years he had the aches and pains of a preserved old man. Now he had the shape of an old man, but a physically perfected one. The aches and pains were gone. Vampires make the best 'doctors.' Vampire blood cures all.
Franklin whispered - Are you here, Jonathon, or am I dreaming?... His maker said - A little of both. What you see in an emanation, a projection of my form. I know not where you are. You've hidden that from me, but I will always be able to reach you. And I am aware of what I see, even in the astral form. A woodland in the hills. It smells as Pennsylvania did in the first days and I speak of the advent of Penn. Are we in Pennsylvania?... Yes - said Franklin. We haven't traveled far. A remote glen in the Poconos. No quad-runners. No outboards. Just the air and the trees and a state of the art scientific installation hidden deep in the cool, brown earth. .... How apt, for a life - eater (vampire) - said Jonathon..... My dear boy - went Franklin. This place, in a more simplified form, has been here since federalist times. Inquisitive, troublemaking scientists value privacy too. Now, why are you here?
I sense your intentions - said Jonathon. You mean to shape the mortal world to your will. You mean to play 'the shepherd.' You mean to kill more or less indiscriminately. You mean to ignore 'the visions.'
Wow, I 'mean' a lot of things, but if you're asking me if I intend to ignore God, yes, I do. Oh, I don't deny the possibility of His presence, just the efficacy of his actions, or lack of actions. - said the old patriot. So, no. I don't plan to play 'sheepdog,' like you do... Then he sighed and smiled.
Jonathon, or rather his emanation, looked troubled... Franklin noticed and in a quiet voice he sang - You take the high road and I'll take the low road and I'll be in Scotland afore ye... But the reverent vampire didn't get it.
Franklin said - Jonathon, Jonathon, Jonathon, look at the world. Look at all the pain. Look at all the chaos. I can fix that.
Buy killing? - asked the believer.
You kill - said Doctor Franklin.
No, I and those like me 'cull.' We do not kill. God sentences. We merely execute - went Jonathon..... Mere semantics. Splitting hairs - said Franklin. Maybe I'm too much of an explorer, a man of the physical world, to be a vampire. But a vampire I am. You saw to that and please don't think I'm not grateful, though I'm still a man of science. That includes anthropological science too. And I will shape the 'clay' as I see fit.
The one thousand year old 'Rite of Spain, orthodox Jew said - When I finally give up the ghost and fly to the Heavenly Gan (garden) Eden, I will face those I culled and ask their forgiveness and they will give it. For they have been cleansed in Gehenna (purgatory --- In Judaism there is no eternal 'hell,' even for Hitler.) and understand the purpose of things. What will your victims tell you?
Spare me your ecclesiastic fairy tales. I am free of such things - said the explainer of electricity....
The reflection of Jonathon went - Then let us, at least, walk and breathe in these wonderful surroundings... So they did.
After a bit they came to an overlook and gazed out upon a silvery glazed, midnight valley.
I suppose you think God made this? - asked Franklin.... But Jonathon didn't say a word.
They just stood there, watching an owl plane through the air down below. Soon a tiny rodent would die.
Some things cannot be rushed - thought Jonathon and after a bit he vanished.
Franklin walked back to his compound alone... and the crickets sang of his passing.
<more next time>
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
click BELIEVERS ... to see all episodes of Vampire Wonderland ... click VIBRATIONS ... to join me on Twitter... please comment. thank you... (I hope my RSS feed is working right.. If not, click OLDER POST down at the bottom of this page to explore past episodes) and OK... here goes... maybe, if you're on Twitter, you might ask JUDD APATOW ... to look at this and perhaps ( gulp!) retweet?.. I like his viewpoint and an urbane, attractive Spanish-Sephardic vampire with more than 800K words up and over 350K hits?.... Come on! Who does that? OK, I'm done... Thanks again.
Last night I shared my plans. Tonight I will tell you more. I can tell you everything, for idiots deem it all to be fiction. Let them. You and I know the difference. And what is political fiction but thought experiments shared with the masses? Look at North Korea. Do you honestly think your leaders aren't toying with the idea of 'regime change.' My God, what a euphemism that is. The Round Heads in seventeenth century Britain only wanted a 'regime change.' The fact that it required a brutal sawing off of the king's head was just incidental. Well, governments do a lot of incidental things. I'm Doctor Benjamin Franklin and I know. Right now, at our Pocono Mountain annex to The Anti-Enchantment Bureau we have a cadre of shining stars ready to go into action. And few people suspect, let alone believe what goes on under the rolling hills and baby mountains of north-east Pennsylvania. I know Billy posted a series of episodes about the vampire academy attached to Topkapi Palace during the salad days of The Ottoman Empire and how these cosseted 'biological weapons' were polished and honed till they became alluring, irresistible killers. Well, I am doing the same thing. It's basically a very facile maneuver to insinuate a properly trained vampire with a trusted aide. They have interns, pages, assistants, all manner of fresh, young things. The leader notices and takes the new arrival under his wing. Then one night, while going over routine correspondence at whatever they call their Camp David, or soon after during a 'rest' period, the deed is done... a discrete love nip, but one that goes on a little too long and the troublesome foreign potentate is bear grease... You know, the sticky residue left over after all the blood is gone and the, as yet unexplainable 'cool' blue flame does its work? No body. No identifiable DNA. No nothing. And the vampire assassin disappears too. No one takes credit. It's never mentioned. In other instances the unfortunate ruler becomes a blood drinker. Most don't realize what's happened. The initiator vanishes and they're left to face the feverish skin shedding all alone... the initial gut wrenching hunger. Oh, they figure it out after a bit. That's when the trouble starts. Can you imagine a vampire ayatollah in Iran? A vampire monarch in Britain? The political-diplomatic world is like a giant Jenga game... a tweak here, a nudge there and the whole thing comes crashing down. None of this has happened yet. School is still in session. We even have a well known flesh sculptor (bone, as well) to provide an added, subtle perfection. All the clothes are custom made. There's weight training, exfoliation... 'ex' everything. Granted, certain parts are complicated. Our vampirinas and vampirinos still hide from the sun, but their 'mentors' don't care. Anyone can do office chores. Our graduates do other things. Luna's here with us too. Some of you might be familiar with her. If not Google Vampire Wonderland by Billy Kravitz (we're forced to pretend this is all just made up) and add Luna. I'm amazed at how much we have out there. Eight hundred thousand words, they say. You can Google Vampire Wonderland by Billy Kravitz and add ANY word and something will come up. But you'll have to excuse me. It's 3AM here... less than three hours till dawn. I particularly enjoy hunting for campers. It's cooler here in the mountains. I like that too. Now let me find an elastic pony tail thing and my hiking boots. Doctor Franklin has to go. <more next time> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ click - NIGHT DEW ... to browse all episodes of Vampire Wonderland. But my RSS feed is screwy and the individual pages don't show up, though you can scroll down and read the intros. I've asked for help. They should fix it soon. click - SAY SOMETHING ... to join me on Twitter. COMMENTS are very appreciated. thank you.
FRANKLIN TALKS ----- For over three hundred years, I've been the national innovator around here. I created the idea of an American City... a BIG university... a MODERN hospital... precision refractive lenses. Yes, I know the Chinese and certain MesoAmerican civilizations take credit for that, but who the hell do you think perfected it? They may have been Leif Erikson but I was Cristobal Colon. Nobody called him 'Christopher Columbus' when he was around. I hope you know that. And I sat in that fetid, sweaty, Old Pennsylvania State House all summer, hammering out The Constitution, a document almost Biblical in its literary purity. But did those pseudo-aristocratic, ridiculously wigged, pretentiously accented, conceited bastards, so much as offer me ANY official position. Look, you know history. You know what happened. I don't have to tell you. That's why I 'died.' That's why I disappeared. Postmaster General doesn't mean shit. But you're gonna see me go 'postal' now. Vampire blood gives me a new clarity. If you want it, there it is. Go and get it. But you better grab it 'cause it's going fast. I love that song. Sure, I'm not quoting it correctly, but, boy, do I get the idea. You know where I am now? In The Annex, an early addendum to The Anti-Enchantment Bureau compound built in the Pocono Mountains in case the Brits found and burned the nascent original during The War of 1812. Thank God they did not. But thank God (well, all right, maybe not God) for The Annex. It's where we did, shall I say, certain questionable scientific investigations... inoculation therapy in the early days, trying out vaccines on recalcitrant slaves and prisoners and doxy-girls... Oh, some lived.... 'some.' Others died. A few went blind. A few went crazy. A few went both..... DON'T look at me like that! ... Do you intellectual infants really think the George Washingtons and Thomas Jeffersons and Andrew Hamiltons were all so honky dory? Hamilton was the most interesting one though. He did deserve that stage show...(sigh).. God, I'd like a stage show. I'd like a lot of things... and now, I'm going to get them. You see, what we're doing here is creating and training our cadre of vampire assassins. Read the last two posts. You'll figure it out. They have to look natural. They have to represent all physical types and racial varieties. We're going to insinuate them into many different places... get them close to the throne. And that's not so hard to do. Political sex scandals are legion. That's why young beauties work best... all manner of young beauties. Soon they'll be vampires. Till then, we groom them and educate them ... good bodies... good minds. Rush and de la Vega and French think I need them. They think I need their money. What I need is to keep an eye on them, because they're trying the same thing. Look, they're watching me too. But I'll win. You see, I want to rule the world. All they want is the world's money. I want it all. Oh, once I get what I want I do plan to be a rather benign dictator... Maybe throw a few 'virgins' into volcanoes, but only a few. Individual polities will still be able to retain their most beloved programs... health care in Canada.... bull fights in Mexico.... oligarchs in Russia... tango dancing in Argentina.... snails in France... yadda yadda yadda. I'll be an immortal Marcus Aurelius, the good emperor of Rome. In fact, we've already kidnapped him and brought him here from THE HERMETIC ORDER OF THE GOLDEN DAWN house he lives in, in London. Trouble is, he's immortal too... Not a vampire. He's had some 'work' done. I'm just not sure what it is. For now, he's my tutor. I'm not sure how I'll use the other Philadelphia vampires... (chuckles)... Sounds like the name of a questionable sports team. Doesn't it?... And in my empire, the Eagles win the Super Bowl every year..... ha ha ha ha ha ha ha... I'm just kidding... sort of. Great galleons will sail the stars. Magnetic trains will glide 'tween continents via antiseptically clean subterranean tunnels. The blind will see. The deaf will hear. The flatulent will stop farting.. I joke. I make light. But this is real. I will have my day, or night, as it is now.... You think they can stop me? Maybe you do. What difference does it make to me what you think? I dealt with resurrection men, body snatchers, in London from seventeen fifty five to seventeen seventy five. Poisoned adversaries in Britain and America. Brought three dogs and a monkey back from the dead. Dissolved a common law wife you never heard of in acid... So what... Who cares? Artists are mercurial beings... Get used to it. <more next time> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ click ACID ... to see it all on Vampire Wonderland... click THE CONVERSATION ... to join me and a lot of wonderful people on Twitter... please leave a comment. thank you. It's 1:20AM here in the Grand Duchy of Philadelphia. I'm done early! Back to Twitter...
A continuation of last night's post ~ Doctor Franklin and the 'Lady' Cressida passed through the finely appointed lobby and entered an elevator. No one so much as glanced at them. An over done 'grand dam' of an older woman laughed at a joke. People returned from the theater, or a late dinner, or Labor Day festivities. A harpist in a long sleeved, fitted black gown, quietly played selections from Sweeney Todd. Vampires, even new ones can remain unnoticed. It's an instinctive thing. Maybe it's telepathic, or simply a look, or a stance, but they have it. And they exited at the sixth floor, silently gliding down a richly carpeted hallway, passed framed and matted black and white photographs of belle epoque Philadelphia. One picture caught the Doctor's attention and he momentarily stopped... a trim, attractive dandy sitting on a bench and tipping his hat toward the camera. The dandy was Jonathon... A coincidence? An omen? Who knew? Doctor Franklin quietly chuckled. Cressida barely noticed. They went on. A six paneled, dark, varnished door at the end of the hallway opened. Franklin entered first, his young companion followed. A tweedy 'Miss Hathaway' woman closed the door. Three mature gentlemen attired in dark suits shared a sofa. The one in the middle stroked a small King Charles Cavalier Spaniel. The dog wore tortoise shell spectacles. His human nodded, gestured toward two Louis XV chairs and said - Please, be seated. They sat down. Franklin said - The glasses, are they real, or merely an affectation?.... Oh, quite real - said the gentlemen. We're planning on reshaping her corneas, but must wait till she stops growing. Vetting physicians now, or at least she is..... The Miss Hathaway type woman smiled, sort of.... Then the gentlemen continued - I believe you know Senor de la Vega and Mister Rush?.... The right hand old man and the left hand old man both nodded. Franklin nodded back.... The dog lover went on - Who's the girl?.... A colleague, a new vampire, as am I - said Franklin.... Yes, I heard - said the dog lover, whose name was French, by the way. What changed your mind? I thought you were a staunch mortalist?..... I still am, but my health did that. Harmonics didn't cut it anymore, at least not for me. Got me to three hundred plus. Not a bad run. And death doesn't suit me, so I agreed to this.... Nor us either - said French. We plan to go with complete cerebral download. The Japanese are experimenting with our robotic bodies right now..... I'm getting Tyrone Power - said de la Vega... I'm going for Miss Greer Garson - said Rush... Oh? - went Franklin. A clean break, is it?... Yes - said Rush. I figure this is the perfect opportunity. Always liked her. Mrs. Miniver is a favorite of mine..... And you, French, who will you be? - asked Franklin.... Moe, from The Three Stooges - went the dog lover. Don't be funny. You know how private I am. And you? Have you killed anybody yet?..... Please, Mr. French, you know how private I am. But I do have an idea... The three uber billionaires glanced up.... Everyone appreciates a good world domination plan. Go on, please - said Mr. Rush. Is this something that can be achieved before we translate into the silicon state?..... Well, I can't guarantee that, but we will be able to accomplish a lot - said Franklin. Can you trust the bodyguards?..... They're in the little bedroom playing cards - said French. So if you don't shout we should be alright. Can we trust your little girlfriend?..... Cressida won't betray us. Who could she tell, Star Magazine?.... Cressida rolled her eyes.... Why did you bring her? - asked Senor de la Vega.... Let's just say that she has ties in two worlds. You'll find out. Then he moved his chair closer to the sofa. They all leaned in, as he began to whisper... Most little people, the world over, are simple minded, self limiting, superstitious cattle. They live the same lives generation after generation and then blame some 'other' group for their own truncated existence. They follow coarse exploitive dictators, or elected officials who mirror their own shortcomings. If we can get them to hate and mistrust those fearless leaders we create chaos. You've seen old movies. You've seen the peasants storm the castle with torches and pitchforks. This is that, but on a bigger scale. And how do you plan to cause this hate and mistrust? - asked French.... Turn them into vampires - said Franklin. They can't be seen in daylight. They can't break bread with fellow rulers. Rumors will get out. Secret videos will appear on line. Clergymen, our clergymen, will issue warnings. A riot here. A riot there. Will the army rebel? Will the army stay loyal to their satanic leader? Can you imagine what would happen in the Middle East? In Russia? In Latin America? India? Africa? Even here. Even Western Europe. Everywhere. China might survive. They're used to cloistered, remote leaders, but I can think of few other places. Can you imagine a vampire pope? Look, now that I'm 'in the business,' so to speak, let me put together a little group. Give me a month or two... The three mature gentlemen grumbled a bit, but soon everyone was shaking hands. Franklin's wanted to be president since seventeen eighty seven and now he almost could. The Miss Hathaway look alike secretary sat on a small, upholstered bench pretending not to hear. And they really didn't want to do it, but they forgot about her, so there was no other choice. Franklin had to feed on her. She whimpered and cried. The three mature gentlemen enjoyed the show. Even the little dog in glasses watched attentively. After all, she was only an executive assistant.... quite replaceable and not important in any way. <more next time> click - BILLIONAIRES ... to see all Vampire Wonderland episodes... click - POTENTATES ... to join me on Twitter... please comment. thank you...
Doctor Franklin and Cressida rode through the nighttime city in a chauffeur driven, glossy, black Maybach.... Neither spoke. They just watched the passing scene. Crowds of young folk leaving the open air Labor Day Weekend concert streamed by the windows. Cressida studied the girls. How different they were... How casual... They laughed... They talked... They kissed friends. She never had a life like that. From 'mole girl' to vampire. That's how it was. From one specimen of exotica to another. Vampires are entranced by mortals, especially their contemporaries. They speculate on the mortal life that might have been. It's hard to pull back from that, yet still be very much dependent on it.
Doctor Franklin saw everything. The old reprobate never missed a beat. He said - How are you getting along with Jonathon's 'Sarah?'.... What, can't you tell? - asked Cressida. I'm civil. We talk. We shop. Vampires 'shop.' Doesn't that sound strange? She likes Boyd's. I like South Street. She never talks about her kills. I don't think she even enjoys them. You know what she told me?.... Franklin shook his head.... She said that 'thing' sees herself as Wendy, from Peter Pan. And not just now since that song came out. She's always been like that. First, when she had Philadelphia After Dark, her bookshop and all the 'nuts' came in. Then when she became a vampire, it got worse. Jonathon is Peter Pan to her. It's all good deeds. She has boxes of old, little, glass, perfume sample vials. I mean boxes. There's a store room. Like there must be a Sam's Club for night-folk selling vampire supplies. I mean it. Makes tiny cuts in her fingers and collects a few drops in each one. Fills maybe a dozen every night. Stops them up and gives them out to sick, troubled people all over town. Nurses in neonatology and pediatric wards wait for her.... Do they know what she is? - says Franklin..... Sure they do - says Cressida. I mean they used to watch True Blood. They used to read Twilight. Hoped it was real. Dreamt that it was. And then she comes along. A regular 'Miss Jesus.' You've heard the term. You know what I mean.... He nods... Well, what? I'm supposed to be best friends with her? Look, I don't hate her. Just want to push her in front of a train. That's what I want to do? Can we do that to a vampire? Will it kill them?... He shrugs, then adds - Perhaps she'd morph into sentient peanut butter and then slowly mend back to her usual form, or maybe tapioca pudding?..... They laugh..... Cressida says - And look at you, trim black suit, hair neatly swept back, crisp white shirt, silk tie... You look like a reimagined Bernie Madoff. No Eagles' sweat suits?..... No Eagles' sweat suits - he goes.
The young folk spreading out from the concert on the Parkway (the BENJAMIN Franklin Parkway, I might add) disappeared into bars and clubs, leaving the streets to the usual locals and dog walkers. Our duo in the Maybach sits in silence. Then the former 'Aura' (now Cressida) quietly asks - Where are we going?
To meet some people - He said. Just some interesting people.... Then why are we so dressed up? - she asked.... Well, they're 'dressed up' kind of people. Look, 'Papa's' been neglecting you and Sarah's not exactly your cup of tea and ,no, you can't kill folks every night of the week. You're not a 'noxious' vampire. You're 'noble.' We don't do that. Do you understand?... She shrugged.... Franklin said - How bout a little vodka?... She shrugged again... Franklin passed her his flask. She guzzled it down, turned toward the people on the sidewalk and said - Boy, look at all the delicious 'shitheads.' That's what Little Annie calls them, shitheads, because they're all full a shit..... An unavoidable biological necessity, my dear. Animal life is like that. At least they don't leave it on the street, like the dogs... and then, to himself he added, I was made for this life all along.... He blew her a kiss. She blew one back. The driver chuckled. He was a 'familiar.' He understood these things.
Soon after, the sleek, black car glided to a stop by the entrance to a new, stylish boutique hotel. A liveried someone or other smoothly opened the door. They went inside.
Then the night was as before.. warm, dark and enveloping. Even with the lights of the city there are many places to hide. A suite with high end finishes in a fine hotel can be a very good spot for anonymity. The powerful individuals occupying these accommodations knew that.
They knew many things... and many people too.
Cressida was quite impressed. In fact she practically peed herself, if vampirinas peed like mortals do...
<more next time>
click - ELITE ... to wander through all episodes of Vampire Wonderland... click - TOWERING FIGURES ... to join me and everyone else ( quite active timelines ) on Twitter... please comment. thank you...
It is I, Jonathon ben Macabi, also known as Tomas de Macabea. Either one is fundamental and an essential part of my nature. You regulars, my night-friends know that. I'll bet you don't realize how much genuine knowledge of la ciencia vampirismo you've picked up. I speak not of paperback lies sold in drug stores but actual truth. I never fool you, or pander to your more prurient nature. That's why this 'thing' vexes me so.
Franklin has killed. The old reprobate is not without style. But we'll speak of that next time. This concerns a cheap entertainment... a baroque burlesque of la vida vampirido, meant for stenographers, cat ladies and frustrated deletantes. Excuse my ignorance of the French language, as a proud Spaniard (although domiciled in many lands over the years) I see it as a mere echo of our own noble tongue.
The SyFy station is running Interview With The Vampire tonight. I'm watching it now and the woman who writes the books from whence he comes is not without a facile talent. Yet any cretin... even the most noxious vampiric ghoul of Carpathia knows it for what it is... a lavish 'guess'... a 'what if'... based on Byronic lies and too much absinthe.
Lestat is a rat... a loathsome, talking rat. He's a bed bug, feigning intelligence and a twisted spirituality... Jim Morrison as an amoral killer, devoid of purpose and will power. Is that the fabrication you crave? Take it, if you want. Have it. Suck on it like a lolly-pop.... It's not what I 'sell.'
My God! Can you imagine how hard it was for me to share this?... They wanted to seal me in lead... They wanted 'Papa' to banish me... send me to the Corona of the Sun... But I convinced them. I told them you'd never accept it as anything but fiction... Remember the first line? How blatant it was... 'First of all we must agree that what comes next is fiction.' That made it right. And so the tale went out... Indeed, it continues to spin out... spider silk for intelligent flies.
One night, we too will have a cinematic face. One night you will see....
'Lestat'... a candy- dandy meant for yearning children... a 'noxious' vampire with a good tailor....
When I stumble on fiends like him (there are a few) I destroy them... and they laugh and giggle like little girls as they die...
Rant's over. Eat a cookie...
<more next time>
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
click TRUTH ... to see all of Vampire Wonderland... subscribe to our RSS feed... click WHISPERS ... to join me on Twitter... please comment. thank you...
Posts
