There’s Grigori and Then There’s Grigori

August 20, 2017 at 7:37 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, Mystery/horror, Science-Fiction, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , )

There’s Grigori and Then There’s Grigori

The Grigori (a Slav transliteration from the Greek egregoroi meaning “Watchers”, “Those who are awake”, “Those who never sleep”, “guards”, “sentinels”) is a term used in connection with Biblical angels.

They were assigned to watch over the Earth but they fell in love with and mated with mortal women giving rise to a race of hybrids known as the Nephilim who are described as giants.

Their exploits are briefly alluded to in Genesis 6:4 and elaborated upon in the Books of Enoch and Jubilees.

. . .

The Tunguska event was a large explosion 💥 that occurred near the Stony Tunguska River in eastern Siberia on the morning of June 30th 1908.

The explosion flattened over 2000 square kilometres of forest 🌳 yet caused no known human casualties.

The explosion is generally attributed to the air burst of a meteor.

It is classified as an impact event (in fact the largest impact event in recorded history) even though no impact crater has ever been found.

The object is believed to have disintegrated at an altitude of 5 to 10 kilometres above the Earth’s surface rather than actually hitting the surface of the Earth 🌏.

And that portion of the Earth’s surface that experienced the wrath of this mysterious object’s impact was the sparsely populated Eastern Siberian Taiga.

Studies have yielded different estimates of the meteor’s size on the order of 60 to 190 metres (200 to 620 feet) depending on whether the body was a comet or denser asteroid.

Since the 1908 event, there have been an estimated 1000 scholarly papers (mostly in Russian) published on the Tunguska explosion.

Of those 1000 odd papers written on the Tunguska explosion, not one took note of the ripple in time that happened on that day.

Of course, there was no reason why any of them should.

For the effects of the impact were thought to be strictly in the air and on the ground.

There was no reason to expect a rupture (no matter how minuscule) in the space/time continuum.

. . .

Part of that mysterious object that exploded went 11 years back in time to the year 1897 and traveled to the Saint Nicholas Monastery at Verkhoturye (the town that at the foot of relatively low middle Ural Mountains is called the Gateway to Siberia from the west).

Contemporary scientists have often speculated whether primitive alien life forms could be brought to earth on meteorites from space.

The answer is possibly.

What about DNA?

Could DNA travel on a meteorite?

And what about the Grigori? The Watchers of old? Angels said to have mated with human women back at the dawn of recorded history? These angels (which were supposed to be originally pure spirit) must have found some way of composing a material body for themselves in order to be able to mate with human women.

Was there such a thing as Grigori DNA then?

Such would be the stuff for highly speculative and extremely creative science papers.

But it so happened that Grigori DNA on an object from space that fell to Earth went through a ripple in time back 11 years to the Saint Nicholas Monastery at Verkhoturye where it struck a visiting peasant pilgrim from the Siberian village of Pokrovskoye- Grigori Rasputin.

As a result of angelic Grigori making contact with human Grigori- the whole world would change forever.

Rasputin would lead to Lenin and the USSR. Which would lead to Stalin and the USSR. Fear of Stalin and the USSR would lead to the middle classes of Germany ensuring the parliamentary victory of a man named Adolf Hitler in the Reichstag.

And so on.

And so on.

All the way forward to a man named Kim Jong-un facing a standoff with a man named Donald Trump.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday August 20th
2017.

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A Timely Showdown In The Klondike

August 19, 2017 at 3:14 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, International Intrigue, Mythology, News, Romance, Science-Fiction, The Supernatural, Vampire novel, western) (, , , , , , , )

North Korean despot Kim Jong-un and his British House of Lords member Communist adviser Lord Byron Jennings had been working on another angle to destroy America besides nuclear weapons and the intercontinental ballistic missile program.

The idea was to send a 100,000 man North Korean Army with advanced weaponry, machine guns and tanks back in time and conquer America in the days when America did not have such weapons.

They sent their good friend Ares the Greek god of War to the Underworld to consult with Saturn/Cronus the Titan god of time on how this could be possible.

Saturn/Cronus told Ares that his reign was of course the Golden Age prior to being overthrown by his son Zeus/Jupiter.

And ever since, Saturn explained, he always had a hankering for gold.

In fact he had been building himself a small portal through time to reach Dawson City Yukon in the year 1897 at the height of the Klondike Gold Rush.

Saturn was still trying to figure out how to leave Tartarus (“that 3-headed dog Cerberus is a real pain in the ass namely because that’s where he always bites me” – Saturn/Cronus said half in Latin and half in Greek) but Ares was welcome to take the portal to Kim Jong-un and see what he could do with it on the promise that once Kim Jong-un had invaded and conquered America, he would then invade and conquer the Realm of Hades and release him the Tartarus imprisoned Saturn/Cronus (for the Titan had it on good authority that the United States of America was the gateway to Hell on Earth).

“How will I be able to carry this portal?” Ares asked Saturn looking at the large astral laser holographic rotating tunnel.

Saturn/Cronus started singing a Latin and Greek version of that old Jim Croce song “If I could save time in a bottle…’

The large astral laser holographic rotating tunnel portal then shrank to a very small size.

Saturn then reached for a bottle of The Kraken Black Spiced Rum, took the top off, said in a loud voice “Release the Kraken!” and then proceeded to empty the liquid contents of the bottle down his throat.

Saturn then instructed Ares to put the shrunken rotating portal vortex into the empty bottle and take it back to Kim Jong-un with the following instructions…

Ares told Kim Jong-un that he’d only be able to send a small group of men back in time to the Klondike in the year 1897- a group of 5000 men.

And then once they had secured the area of the spatial/temporal location of the portal, it would be possible to send more men- like Kim’s envisioned 100,000 man army.

The 100,000 man army could then march from the Klondike to Alaska and take it over.

Then board ships heading further south and take over the U.S. mainland.

Thus North Korea would be able to successfully conquer America in the late 1890s and not have to resort to nuclear weapons.

Ares then poured the rotating vortex out of the empty bottle of The Kraken Black Spiced Rum.

The astral laser holographic rotating tunnel portal then expanded to its original size.

Kim Jong-un then called for the leader of the 5000 men who would initially be sent back in time- a man by the name of Sum Yung Fuul.

Sum Yung Fuul was a big fan of the Jack London novels The Call of the Wild and White Fang and would use his knowledge of both books to find his way around the Klondike in that time period once there.

Sum Yung Fuul and his 4,999 men then walked into the rotating vortex singing the North Korean National Anthem which Lord Byron Jennings played on his theremin.

Sum Yung Fuul and his men then arrived in the Klondike on Thursday December 23rd 1897.

December 23rd of course was the last day of the ancient Roman Festival of the Saturnalia (which began on December 17th and ended on December 23rd) and it was for that reason that Saturn had chosen this date for which the rotating portal would land at the height of the Saturnalia festival.

Sum Yung Fuul and his men then walked out from the forest in which they landed and entered Dawson City.

While walking through Dawson City they encountered a blue box in the middle of the main street that said in large letters at the top just below a shining lantern POLICE PUBLIC CALL BOX.

“Did they have public pay phone booths in the Klondike in 1897?” A young lieutenant asked Col. Sum Yung Fuul.

“I don’t think so,” Sum Yung Fuul replied.

He hadn’t recalled Jack London mentioning it in his books.

Another young lieutenant was about to say that it looked a lot like the TARDIS from the Doctor Who television series on BBC One but didn’t when he remembered that it was only Kim Jong-un who was allowed to watch decadent Western world TV shows and movies in the Hermit Kingdom.

If he were to open his mouth, he’d be shot by firing squad.

So he didn’t open his mouth.

The men then proceeded into the forest on the other side of Dawson City.

The lieutenant looked at his compass.

“We’ve almost got this spatial/temporal location for the portal secured, sir,” the lieutenant said to Sum Yung Fuul.

Just then a woman appeared in front of them out of nowhere.
Steampunk Klondike Serena of The Snows

The redheaded red dress woman (who was in fact the blonde Steampunk time traveler Serena who had dyed her hair red for this occasion since she’d be dealing with fighters in a Communist army) fired from both of the weapons she carried in her hands.

Like the TARDIS phone booth on Dawson City’s main street which was bigger on the inside than it was on the outside, each weapon that Serena held in her hand contained 100,000 rounds of ammunition each.

She blew all 5000 men away to Hermit Kingdom come.

She then blew into each weapon and put each one back into her side holsters on either side of her sexy red skirt.

The North Korean invasion of America in the late 1890s had been nipped in the bud before it even began.

Meanwhile Donald Trump tweeted,

@realDonaldTrump Just had a vision of a woman named Serena. Lovely lady. I wonder who she is?

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday August 17th
2017.

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A Working Day In The Life of Renfield MP

August 18, 2017 at 6:56 pm (Commentary, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, News, Politics, Vampire novel) ()

A Working Day In The Life of Renfield MP

Renfield R. Renfield had started his day by flying to Spain where he had been asked to deal with captured Islamic State terrorists who had been arrested in the wake of yesterday’s Barcelona van ramming in the Las Ramblas district.

He had brought along with him a piece of equipment and software invented by Set Enterprises’ chief scientist Dr. Cadbury Rocher.

“Hello,” Renfield grinned at the ISIS prisoner when he saw him, “this Rocher Sensory Virtual Reality Machine was invented by my friend Dr. Cadbury Rocher at my suggestion. You’re probably wondering why you’re tied down to this table. That’s so we can put these VR goggles as well as extra wires on you without struggle. Now given that you dirtbags’ favourite method of terrorism these days is to run down people with motor vehicles, this VR mechanism controls the nerves and pain mechanisms in your body so when we put these goggles on you and run our program, you will see yourself being hit and run over by an approaching motor vehicle but thanks to the wires, you will also feel the same pain victims feel when their limbs are smashed and whatever else is broken when the vehicle hits them. However unlike real life victims who either die or their pain is eventually anesthetized in hospital, once you feel the pain for an agonizing half-hour, the program then ends, you’ll get temporary relief but the program then starts over again. And over again. And over again. So theoretically you can now enjoy the experience of getting hit and run over by a motor vehicle and feeling the subsequent pain of crushed limbs and broken ribs and spines and feelings of paralysis several hundred times a day… and night.”

The prisoner turned pale.

“Enjoy the show,” Renfield put the goggles on the man and flipped the switch.

. . .

Renfield’s explanation and the man’s screams were broadcast via invisible Tesla radio sound waves (that didn’t require the presence of physical loudspeakers) at various Islamic State training camps throughout the Middle East.

One angered Islamic State leader said, “We must kill this Renfield.”

“Wrong answer,” said the Commander of the British Army Brigade of Gurkhas who led the raid storming the camp and entering the tent with guns blazing

Those not killed were immediately bound and transferred to the facility in Spain where they themselves could enjoy Renfield R. Renfield’s Amazing Pain Sensation and Virtual Reality Smash Them Up Motor Derby Show.

. . .

“Political correctness is cultural Marxism,” Renfield R. Renfield explained to a BBC interviewer later in the day, “Cultural Marxism is the process articulated by early 20th Century Italian Communist theoretician Antonio Gramsci whereby to penetrate and infiltrate and dominate the culture is far more effective than revolution or armed struggle in bringing about a Marxist society.”

“Really?” said the BBC interviewer.

“Yes,” Renfield continued, “Gorbachev was a disciple of Gramsci’s ideas. That’s why he thought he could allow for Perestroika and glasnost and letting the Eastern European satellite nations go since the West had pretty well become Marxist atheistic materialistic in its thought anyways. Parts of the Western world might pay lip service to religion (the former Christianity that had once dominated it) but for the most part, most Church leaders in the West had become cultural Marxists in their thinking anyways. The most clear example of this is the Vatican itself where once the anti-Communist popes like John Paul II and Benedict XVI were out of the way, you now have a cultural Marxist like Pope Francis presiding over the Catholic Church.”

“But yet it sounds like cultural Marxism doesn’t call itself cultural Marxism, it calls itself political correctness instead,” the BBC interviewer pointed out.

“That’s right,” Renfield nodded, “ever since the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989 and the collapse of the USSR in 1991, Marxism has, in the early 21st Century, become the ideology that dare not speak its name. The reason being that Marxists were shown to be losers.
And everybody, no matter who they are or what political ideology they adhere to, hates being thought of as a loser. Gorbachev never in his wildest dreams probably suspected that Perestroika and glasnost would lead to the dissolution of the USSR itself. But that’s what happened. Marxism had lost the Cold War. And the term Marxist became synonymous with loser. So Marxists no longer called themselves Marxists- especially in the U.S.- they called themselves Progressive instead.”

“You have said that Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton are both cultural Marxists,” the interviewer noted.

“That is correct,” Renfield noted, “And that’s why Hillary’s supporters went so berserk when she lost the election. Because Marxists, whether cultural or armed militant, seem to be psychologically prone to great histrionics when they don’t get their own way. As can be seen by the actions of Stalin, Mao Tse-tung and Pol Pot when they killed millions upon millions of people they thought stood in the way of their creating the perfect classless society. American progressives calling themselves SJWs (Social Justice Warriors- when I first encountered the term on social media- I thought it stood for Single Jehovah’s Witnesses and I thought someone should really get these pathetic losers married off before they continue to make stupid comments on social media) throw temper tantrums on social networking sites. They gather together in groups to get their way. At one time brainless howling mobs used pitchforks and torches to go after people they disagreed with. Today they use Twitter tweets and Facebook postings.”

“And speaking of Twitter tweets,” the interviewer interjected, “what about Donald Trump?”.

“He comes across as the modern day equivalent of an ancient Roman Emperor,” Renfield answered, “somewhat insane and always making daily changes to his household staff.”

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Renfield,” said the BBC interviewer.

And such was a working day in the life of Renfield R. Renfield MP.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday August 18th
2017.

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London Swings Like A Pendulum Do: The Tower of Big Ben

August 17, 2017 at 8:13 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, International Espionage, Mystery, Mystery/horror, Mythology, News, Romance, Science-Fiction, The Supernatural, Vampire novel, western) (, , , , , , , , )

London Swings Like A Pendulum Do: The Tower of Big Ben

Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing had received an urgent text message from the Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec.

Apparently Qonzilqointec had always wanted to make out underneath the bell of Big Ben in the famous London clock tower that people also called by that name.

Now the Aztec vampiress had just found out that the Big Ben clock tower would be undergoing renovations for the next 4 years and the bell would fall silent following the chimes at noon next Monday August 21st.

She asked Dracul to meet her underneath the bell at the clock tower between 7 and 8 tonight so they could make out.

“I’ve got to go,” Dracul explained the whole situation to Amadeus Emanon whom he was having tea ☕️ with.

Dracul exited the tea shop.

Amadeus’ iPhone went off.

“Hello?” Amadeus answered.

“Hello, Amadeus?” It was Renfield R. Renfield, “I’ve lost Dracul’s mobile phone number. Is he still there with you?”.

“No, he’s gone to the Tower of Big Ben to make out with the Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec underneath the bell since they’re going to silence the bell for the next 4 years starting next Monday,” Amadeus unwrapped and ate a chocolate covered peanut shaped replica of the Dr. Who TARDIS Police Call Box Public Phone Booth.

“Wow, some guys have all the fun,” Renfield remarked as the Simon and Garfunkel song The Sounds of Silence played on the radio behind him.

. . .

Cardinal Walter Kasper was walking through the halls of the Vatican when a statue of Our Lady of Fatima crashed down right beside him.

“Oh well,” Cardinal Kasper looked at his watch ⌚️ 7:06 PM, “No great loss.”

. . .

The great South African artist SAREJESS was having another dream.

He dreamed that the Tower of Big Ben in London was sending out a great searchlight signal that read 1001 Positions of the Kama Sutra.

He saw Dr. Who’s TARDIS Police Call Box Public Phone Booth flying through the air.

He saw the Greek god Ares dressed in a full suit of armour prepared for war and sailing on the Ship of Hades (a ship he had recently painted a few weeks ago) at sea.

He saw North Korean dictator Kim Jong-un wearing a top hat 🎩, tux, tails and cane and tap dancing while holding hands with Bob Hope and Bing Crosby singing Thanks For The Memory while the clock struck midnight at Rick’s Cafe Americain in Casablanca.

He saw Donald Trump shampooing his hair and a barrel of monkeys falls out of it.

He saw the three-headed dog Cerberus biting a scythe holding Father Time on the buttocks.

He saw Ares trying to shove a large tornado shaped vortex into a small bottle.

He saw a red dress wearing red headed woman standing in the middle of snow ❄️ in the middle of a forest and firing two unusual looking armed weapons.

The woman (although a redhead) looked like Serena the blonde he had seen in the room with Belvedere on the 2nd floor of The Wild Tomatoes and Mushroom Saloon in that dream he had a few weeks ago where an Egyptian Pharaoh looking Orson Welles had come out of a Cuckoo Clock on the room’s wall.

. . .

British Prime Minister Theresa May was just walking below the clock tower of Big Ben at Westminster when a pair of very sexy red lingerie Victoria’s Secret panties fell down on top of her head.

“Nice looking panties, Mrs. May,” British Transhumanist MP Renfield R. Renfield remarked as he walked by.

“They’re not mine,” Mrs. May’s blushing 😊 red face could not be seen under the red panties.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday August 17th
2017.

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Civil War II

August 16, 2017 at 3:42 pm (Commentary, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, International Intrigue, News, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , )

“I really don’t know what Kim Jong-un’s problem is,” Russian President Vladimir Putin explained to the Chinese Ambassador, “you just have to look at far-right idiots battling far-left idiots in the recent protests and demonstrations over Confederate statues in the U.S. to realize America is falling apart of its own accord. There’s no need to nuke the country.”

The past few days had seen clashes between Neo-Nazi and KKK scumbags and Antifa and Anarchist-Marxist scumbags in Charlottesville Virginia over the removal of Confederate General Robert E. Lee’s statue, Antifa terrorists and thugs forcibly tearing down a statue of a Confederate soldier in Durham, North Carolina and someone had spray painted vulgar graffiti on the Lincoln Memorial.

Putin added, “As Lincoln himself said, A house divided against itself cannot stand.”

. . .

Robur The Conquerer II sailed in his airship The Albatross II across America the same route that next week’s solar eclipse would take.

The man whose real name was Robur Pike was a genetic clone created from locks of hair of Confederate Brigadier-General Albert Pike by Nazi scientist Dr. Eckhart Fromm back in 1966.

He was pleased with the protests.

For General Robert E. Lee had thought slavery was a bad idea and wouldn’t survive in the long run, originally wanted to fight for the Union, in fact was Lincoln’s first choice for commanding the Union Army but only decided to join the Confederacy when his home state of Virginia voted to secede in April 1861 as Lee could not bring himself to fight against his home state.

But no doubt the riff raff fighting for both sides- the Neo-Nazi – KKK alliance and the Antifa-Anarchist-Marxist alliance to say nothing of all the brainless gutless politicians across the land who wanted to remove statues of Lee were too stupid and too ignorant of history to be aware of all this..

Lee had died saying, “So far from engaging in a war to perpetuate slavery, I am rejoiced that slavery is abolished. I believe it will be greatly for the interests of the South.”

Lee only had his U.S. citizenship restored posthumously in 1975.

While Confederate General Albert Pike (the man behind the founding of the KKK and the head of Scottish Rite Freemasonry in America) never lost his U.S. citizenship and is buried in the Masonic House of The Temple in Washington D.C.

He is also the only Confederate military officer with an outdoor statue in Washington DC.

He died after a life time of writing about Swastikas and the Aryan race and how they were created by a group of god men from the stars (ideas later adopted by the Nazis in Germany).

Pike’s ideas were especially thoroughly believed in by the SS (and his ideas of god men from the stars intervening in Darwinian evolution to create a superior breed of hominids promoted by the Ancient Aliens TV series on the History Channel though not its racist overtones).

History was unfair, Robur Pike chuckled to himself.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday August 16th
2017.

confederate statue removed

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Orson Welles and The Woman of Mystery Part 3

August 15, 2017 at 9:24 pm (Arts, Culture, Entertainment, Film, History, Literature, Movies, Mystery, News, Science-Fiction, The Supernatural, Vampire novel, western) (, , , , , )

Orson Welles and The Woman of Mystery Part 3

“So,” Welles looked over again at Serena, “From where did Serena learn this ancient Egyptian spell that turned Belvedere into a ghost white salamander?”.

“You mean from whom?” Serena smiled seductively at Welles and licked her lips.

“From whom?” Welles looked at her quizzically, “You mean it was a person who taught her this spell?”.

“Let’s just say a being or an entity,” Serena laughed once again as she threw back her hair.

“And who is this being or entity?” Welles asked the blonde enchantress seated on the desk in front of him.

“It’s revealed at the end of the script,” Serena winked at him, “at the end of the movie.”

“But I notice the last few pages of the script are missing,” Welles held up the papers in his hand.

“That’s because I want you to take an oath never to reveal the ending of the script before I show it to you,” Serena brought out a King James Bible from her purse since she knew Welles loved the language of the King James Bible.

“An oath?” Welles looked shocked, “But my grandmother warned me never under any circumstances to join the Freemasons.”

“I’m not asking you to take a Freemasonic oath,” answered Serena who had recently seen a Vatican Cardinal do just that.

“That’s good,” Welles breathed a sigh of relief, “I don’t really relish the idea of getting my throat slit from ear to ear or getting disembowelled within stepping distance of the ocean.”

“No sane sensible person would,” Serena agreed.

“But how then are we to make this movie if the ending is kept a secret?” Welles looked at her.

“This will be the most unique movie in all recorded history, Mr. Welles,” Serena spoke in a whisper, “to go along with all the unique movies you have made. This movie will be released to the general public to see within a year of its making but its ending will only be seen in a re-release of the film several years down the road. You of course will shoot the ending Mr. Welles with your own unique style but the ending will be kept on a separate reel stored in a Swiss bank vault and released to the general public several years down the road during the film’s re-release.”

“What a splendid idea,” Welles enthused, “so splendid in fact that it’s a wonder I didn’t think of it…”

“You will, Orson, you will,” Serena laughed.

“So how long will the public have to wait before they see the film’s ending during the movie’s re-release?” Welles asked.

“August 2017,” Serena answered with a smile and a sudden flick of her classic vintage antique railway watch.

“That’s a long way aways,” Welles looked at Serena with an understated expression of shock and astonishment.

“72 years,” Serena did not bother counting the years down on her fingers and toes as she did not have that many fingers and toes.

. . .

Needless to say the chief executive of RKO Radio Pictures Studios did not look at Welles with an understated expression of shock and astonishment when Welles described the project to him.

In fact, the studio head had even taken back the cigar he had offered Welles when the young genius film maker had entered his office.

“A bit early in the day for you to be drinking isn’t it, Orson?” The studio head exploded, “Now get out of here and come back with a more practical idea for a picture.”

Welles hurriedly exited the studio head’s office.

As he left, he heard the studio head’s pet parrot say, “Squawk. You should drink no wine 🍷 before its time. Squawk. You should drink no wine before its time.”

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday August 15th
2017.

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Lilith, Asmodeus and Nimrod On Mount Moriah

August 14, 2017 at 7:43 pm (Commentary, Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, News, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , )

Lilith, Asmodeus and Nimrod On Mount Moriah

The Ancient Babylonian vampiress Lilith was standing atop Mount Moriah (known to Jews as the Temple Mount and known to Muslims as the Haram al-Sharif) alongside the demon Asmodeus and a little green frog called Nimrod (in his mortal life he had been ruler of the city of Babel and builder of the Tower of Babel but as a result of a vampiric kiss of life administered by Lilith gone awry due to a lack of vermouth, he had been brought back from the dead all right but his genetic make-up had changed and he had been turned into a frog as a result).

Lilith spoke,

When shall we three meet again?
In Moscow, Mecca or in Spain?

Asmodeus answered,

When the hurlyburly’s done,
When the Battle of Gog and Magog’s lost and won.

Nimrod (after using his tongue to capture one of Beelzebub’s passing flies) said,

That will be ere the set of sun.

Lilith: Where the place?

Asmodeus: Upon Mount Meggido.

Nimrod: There to meet with He Who Cannot Be Named (if I may borrow an expression from the Harry Potter books).

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday August 14th
2017.
He

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Haiku About Car Ramming In Charlottesville Virginia At Aug. 12th 2017 Rally

August 13, 2017 at 8:49 pm (Commentary, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, International Intrigue, News, Poetry) (, , , , , )

Haiku About Car Ramming In Charlottesville Virginia At Aug. 12th 2017 Rally

Back in World War II
Nazis used V-1s, V-2s
today they use cars

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Remorse of the battlefield 

August 13, 2017 at 4:29 pm (Uncategorized)

This is one of the most powerful contemporary poems I’ve read in a long while about the horrors of war- those who fight the war and the loved ones they leave behind.

Fusion_Beats 👽

Guns on point

Waiting in the wild for the trap to unfold,

The fervour to see his wife and their conceived child

Burns a hole in his pocket.

The unsent letter

Rested on his chest,

Shielded from the bullets

Underneath the badges of honour and pride.

Guns on point

Blood stained trousers

Struggling to not surrender to death,

Smell of spilled blood

And counted breaths

Racing against the forged time.

Guns on point

Afraid to lose

And to never hold his child in his arms,

Silence surrenders to upheaval

As bullets take over the undercovered wild.

From dusk to Dawn lightning striked

Bullets and blood took over love.


The unspoken words of the letter

Erased by the stains of red,

Wet and untouched –

Against the still heart…

Underneath the badges of honour and pride.


Empty guns rested on the floor

Covered in blood and more,

The siren was not…

View original post 29 more words

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Donald Trump’s Inspirational Pre-Fry Kim Jong-un Day Speech To U.S. Troops

August 12, 2017 at 3:43 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, History, Literature, News, Poetry, Satire) (, , , , , , )

Donald Trump’s Inspirational Pre-Fry Kim Jong-Un Day Speech To U.S. Troops

(with apologies to Will Shakespeare and Henry V over the Saint Crispin’s Day speech)

Donald Trump, preparing for war with North Korea, is set to address the troops.

He is informed by the ghost of the late U.S. Army General William Westmoreland that all transgendered enlisted have now left the U.S. Army.

Donald Trump gazing at what’s left says, “We happy few…”

Trump (beginning speech):

What’s he that twitters so?
My heroes don’t die Westmoreland? No, my late General
If we are marked to fry, we are enow
To do our country loss, and if to live,
The fewer men, the greater share of honour (if we ignore the lying news media)
My will, I pray me, wish not one man more
By Trump, I am not covetous for gold (for I have plenty already),
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost (whatever the Hell that’s supposed to mean
I’ll have to fire my latest speechwriter or Chief of Staff or press secretary),
It yearns me not if men my garments wear (for I am not transgendered- real men
can wear my garments),
Such outward things dwell not in my desires
(save to grab a fair woman’s ass as I said long years ago),
But if it be a sin to covet honour,
I am the most offending soul alive
(wow, this Bill Shakespeare was really prophetic
concerning my Presidency).
No faith my coz (save to attract Bible belt voters), wish not a man from England
(since my campaign slogan was America First!).
Trump’s pence! I would not lose so great an honour
As one man more (my VP) methinks would share from me
For the best hope I have (finishing my term without impeachment)
O, do not wish one more!
Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through thy ghost,
That he which hath no stomach for this fight,
Let him depart (or be deported); his passport shall be made (and then revoked!),
And crowns for convoy put into his purse (when he is thrown beyon’ yonder wall);

(At this point the amateur actor Snout from the Midsummer Night’s Theatre Company appears in front of Trump dressed as a brick wall. He has graffiti on his brick wall garment that says Gringoland or Bust!)

Snout (as Wall);

In this same interlude it doth befall
That I, one Snout by name, present a wall;
And such a wall, as I would have you think,…

Trump (pointing): Someone get this idiot out of here! Security! Security! Throw the bum out!

(Snout is grabbed by security and hauled away)

Trump (continues his speech quite literally ghostwritten by William Shakespeare):

We would not die in that man’s company
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is called Fry Kim Jong-un Day
(how Saint Hannibal of Lecter celebrated pre-Vatican II teaching on Friday’s culinary diets)
He that shall live this day (shall feel he’s been microwaved) and comes peeling away home
Shall watch his toes fall off when this day is named,
And rouse him at the name of Kim Jong-un.
He that shall live this day (singing Whoa, whoa, I’m radioactive) and welcome the New Age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast on his neighbours (or at least their remains),
And say ‘Tomorrow is Fry Kim Jong-un.’
Then will he strip his sleeve (with his new metallic cyborg hands) and show his scars,
And say, ‘These wounds I had on Fry Kim Jong-un Day.’
Old men forget (sometimes that they’re wearing a toupee); yet all shall be forgot
But he’ll remember, with cancerous sores,
What feets he lost that day. Then shall our names
Familiar in his mouth as decaying teeth-
Donald The Trump, Mattis and Tillerson,
McMaster and Kelly, Ivanka and Jared,
Be in their flowing cups (and streams of blood red) freshly rememb’ red.
This story shall the good man teach his son (Barron, where are you?);
And Fry Kim Jong-un shall ne’er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world (Trump looks at his watch) “Possibly another hour”,
But we in it shall be remembered (if the lying news media says I’m senile, it’s fake news) –
We few, we happy (but not gay) few, we band of brothers,
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother, be he ne’er so vile (as to be transgendered),
This day shall toughen his condition;
And gentlemen in England now-a-bed
Shall think themselves lucky they were not here,
And hold their (TV) remotes cheap while none will speak
As they watch on the screen the mushroom cloud that fell on Fry Kim Jong-un Day.

-A Shakespearean satirical speech
written by Christopher
Saturday August 12th
2017.

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