Reblog of Orson Welles and The Unusual Production of MacBeth
A vampire novel chapter and blog post I wrote 4 years ago today.
Orson Welles and The Unusual Production of MacBeth
It was March 1945.
And talented director and actor of stage, radio and film the great Orson Welles was directing a short scene from William Shakespeare’s MacBeth for an upcoming charity event.
Welles (in front of the stage): All right. Enter the three witches.
(Thunder and lightning. Enter three witches)
First Witch (lowering “her” cowl to reveal the face of Adolf Hitler- a fact which startles Orson Welles):
When shall we three meet again?
In thunder, lightning or in rain?
Second Witch (lowering her “cowl” to reveal the face of Josef Stalin- a fact which also startles Orson Welles):
When the hurlyburly’s done,
When the battle’s lost and won.
Third Witch (lowers its cowl to reveal a face wearing a mask. It speaks in a very metallic sounding voice):
That will be ere the set of sun.
(On the wall at the…
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Pan Goatee’s Saturday Afternoon On The Last Weekend In March
DARPA contract assassin and genetically created satyr serial killer Pan Goatee (whose serial killing specialty was killing ugly woman) was in the food court of a nearby restaurant where he had picked up a submarine sandwich from Subway.
His enjoyment of his sub was soon ruined by the sight of a fat ugly blimp waddling in front of him.
The fat ugly blimp picked up two large containers of food from a Lebanese food take out place and then two large containers of food from a Chinese food take out place.
“Well, it’s no great mystery as to why you’re the size of a behemoth,” Goatee remarked as he reached into his holster, pulled out his astral laser machete and beheaded the creature.
After tossing his cookies (metaphorically speaking) into a nearby garbage can (the aftereffect of beholding the grisly gruesome sight), Goatee walked to a nearby McDonald’s to buy himself a large double double coffee.
Upon approaching the entrance, to the left (from Pan’s viewpoint) was a teen-aged fat ugly blimp with pink and purple coloured hair.
Goatee had nothing against females with pink and purple coloured hair save when they adorned the elephantine heads of fat ugly blimps.
The revolting and sickening sight more properly belonged in a circus tent (like Archie Bunker used to sing about in the theme song on the old All In The Family TV show, “Freaks were in a circus tent, those were the days.”) with a sign above the tent entrance that read ABANDON ALL HOPE YE WHO ENTER HERE to those stupid enough to part with their hard earned money just to see a repulsive blood-curdling stomach churning mind numbing sight that could easily be replicated by staying home and doing their income tax returns (which also would have been an experience far more enjoyable).
Goatee promptly beheaded the fat ugly blimp with pink and purple hair who could easily serve as the poster child for GSAs (Gay-Straight Alliances) in Alberta schools driving most hormonally aroused and voice changing males towards the “G” side of that equation.
Fortunately there seemed to be mainly beautiful women inside the McDonald’s which prevented Pan’s large double double coffee from joining his Subway sandwich in the Tossed Cookies Department.
Upon leaving the McDonald’s restaurant to walk home, he noticed a flat trailer truck broken down at the side of the road.
Outside the broken down truck were a fat ugly blimp, her brainless husband and a kid.
“Well, no doubt the fat ugly blimp which far exceeds the province’s heavy load weight restrictions was responsible for this truck’s breakdown,” Goatee said as he approached and beheaded the blimp.
Goatee then beheaded the brainless husband remarking, “And that’s for being so stupid as to have sexual relations with a human-walrus hybrid.”
He then turned his attention to the kid, “The offspring of ugliness and stupidity does not a fine progeny make” and beheaded him.
He was sure the genetics textbooks at home would validate his impromptu on the spot empirical assessment.
Meanwhile the computers at DARPA were down again as a result of a Chinese Communist EMP (electro-magnetic pulse) attack on the system in response to Donald Trump tweeting an Executive Order that there were to be no EMP attacks on the U.S.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday March 30th
2019
Atargatis, Dracul and The A. Y. Jackson Painting
The year was 1955.
Winston Churchill had recently stepped down as Prime Minister of Britain.
And an exhibit of paintings of Canadian artist A. Y. Jackson was opening in London.
The Syro-Phoenician goddess Atargatis had gone back in time from the current year of 2019 to 1955 to purchase an A.Y. Jackson painting that would become quite valuable.
Atargatis at a London art exhibit in the spring of 1955.
The name of the painting was Painting Of A Buffalo From The Rearend As Painted From The Rearend of A Train.
The buffalo had been painted by Jackson while he was sitting at the back of a caboose at a train stopped in the Red Deer River Badlands near Drumheller, Alberta, Canada.
A buffalo had stoppped and turned around and showed Jackson his rearend so the artist had painted a picture of the spectacle.
“A most remarkable portrait of the late Fuhrer of Germany,” Sir Winston Churchill remarked as he gazed at the painting through his spectacles.
Atargatis controlled a laugh.
Then she caught sight of Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing.
“Are you here to bid on the painting, Van Helsing?” She asked.
“No, just here to take a look,” Van Helsing replied, “my dad often talked about this painting. That very same buffalo later went and took a crap on the shoes of my dad’s school principal. My dad always wanted to say thanks to that buffalo but never got around to it. So I’m here to do it on his behalf.”
“You’re an unusual man, Van Helsing,” Atargatis took a martini off a passing tray.
“And you’re a ravishingly beautiful goddess,” Van Helsing likewise grabbed a martini.
“We really should stop meeting like this,” Atargatis smiled, “it gives a whole new meaning to that expression “blast from the past”. Although I must say, I wouldn’t mind doing it in a DeLorean.”
“Neither would I,” Van Helsing smiled in return, “seeing as how time traveling DeLorean drivers were right in their prognostications about who would become U.S. President in a certain time period- be it Reagan or be it Trump- I’m sure the DeLorean back seat windows could use a little steaming up.”
“Did the DeLorean have a back seat?” Atargatis asked.
“If it didn’t, we could always make one,” the vampire hunter helped himself to a raw oyster.
“I hear a couple of nights ago, you were in Havana, Cuba in 1956,” Atargatis helped herself to a Cuban cigar.
“I was,” Van Helsing offered her a light, “where I heard from a Los Angeles private eye that drinking milk from your lactating breasts makes one immortal.”
“And would you like to be immortal, Mr. Van Helsing?” She approached him.
“England expects every man to do his duty,” Dracul quoted Lord Horatio Nelson and looked down the front of her dress.
The remaining drops of the Syro-Phoenician goddess’ martini wound up in the vampire hunter’s face.
Atargatis walked outside.
After grabbing a towel from the waiter and wiping his face, Van Helsing followed her.
“Well, how about this for a coincidence?” Dracul Van Helsing quoted a line that Dustin Hoffman spoke to Katharine Ross at the back of a bus and pointed towards a car parked in front of the art gallery steps, “A DeLorean.”
Atargatis looked at the car and smiled.
She turned to Van Helsing with a twinkle in her eye and said, “Well, a girl really can’t say no to a DeLorean can she?”.
“They shall look back and say, this was their finest hour,” Churchill quipped as he exited the art gallery.
“And will I get the chance to play with your gearshift, Mr. Van Helsing?” Atargatis asked as the vampire hunter opened the door for her.
“I was hoping you’d ask,” was the vampire hunter’s reply.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday March 29th
2019.
Athena and Dracul In Edinburgh
“And so how are your travels across the annals of time going?” The Greek goddess Athena asked Dracul Van Helsing as he stoked the fires in the Edinburgh hotel room they were in.
“Well, last night I was in Havana Cuba in 1956 and I saw Pat Nixon’s Rockefeller bought mink coat won in a card game in a U.S. Mafia owned casino,” Van Helsing answered.
“My owl tells me that you spent quite the enchanted evening with Isabel Esmeronde the Cuban singer extraordinaire who won that card game,” Athena looked accusingly at Van Helsing.
“Your owl is quite the time traveling spy,” Van Helsing lit a cigarette.
“He is,” Athena acknowledged.
“And now he’s flying around the British House of Commons as the Brexit fracas is going on,” Van Helsing looked at the TV screen which showed an owl caught in the Speaker’s hair.
“He finds human follies and foibles quite amusing,” Athena helped herself to some grapes.
“I see you’re in touch with the Scottish independence movement should Brexit go ahead,” Van Helsing sat down on the sofa.
“They don’t call Edinburgh the Athens of the North for nothing,” Athena smoothed her dress.
“And you’re looking after the Athens of the North?” Van Helsing thought of the Grecian columns of the National Monument on Calton Hill.
“I am,” Athena nodded, “My father’s Kraken is now swimming in the North Sea.”
Van Helsing in his mind pictured Liam Neeson as Zeus saying “Release the Kraken!” and Mel Gibson as William Wallace standing on a cliff above the sea and shouting “I am William Wallace!”.
He wondered who would win that battle.
“I hear you shot and killed your time traveling adversary the Nazi SS Ahnenerbe Occult Bureau vampire Franz Kohler with a silver bullet,” Athena smiled.
“I did,” Van Helsing took a sip of his Scotch, “Unfortunately the immortal Egyptian priest scientist Imhotep brought him back from the dead and so he’s once again Undead.”
“And Imhotep seems to have the backing of the Egyptian god Thoth for whatever reason,” Athena rubbed her lip in thought.
“He appears to,” Van Helsing acknowledged.
“And with the secret diary of Solomon in your possession, you enter into the machinations of gods and goddesses,” Athena looked at the Canadian vampire hunter.
Van Helsing put down his Scotch, “I wasn’t aware you knew of that diary’s existence. I guess Solomon’s secret diary isn’t as secret as I thought.”
“As the Greek goddess of wisdom, I appreciated the wisdom of Solomon,” Athena stood up, “so of course I knew of his diary’s existence.”
Van Helsing stood up.
“The sun is setting,” the vampire hunter looked out the window.
In the distance, the Union Jack could be seen flying along Scotland’s national flag.
“I’d appreciate a kiss before bedtime,” Athena licked her lips.
And lips of Greek goddess and vampire hunter touched.
Followed by embracing of arms.
Miles away in the North Sea, the Kraken swam.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday March 28th
2019.
Isabel Esmeronde: Cuban Singer Extraordinaire
Isabel Esmeronde: Cuban singer extraordinaire
The year was 1956.
And U.S. Vice-President Richard M. Nixon sat in the LA private eye office of Carson Cody Albion.
Carson Cody Albion was an immortal Private Eye.
Quite literally immortal.
He had been turned immortal by the Syro-Phoenician goddess Atargatis back on May 8th 1945 when her breasts started lactating over the news that Nazi Germany had unconditionally surrendered over in Europe.
Albion, who was going through severe bourbon withdrawal at the time, immediately started drinking the milk and became immortal.
Atargatis: Prior to hearing the news of Germany’s surrender on May 8th 1945.
“I’ve been told you’re the height of discretion, Mr. Albion,” Nixon said.
“That I am,” Albion turned off his tape recorder, “Normally I like to record my clients’ conversations but in your case, I’ll make an exception.”
“Those tape recorders are kind of handy things, aren’t they?” Nixon looked at the machine, “I might have to start using them someday.”
“What can I do for you, Mr. Vice-President?” Albion asked.
“Well, as you know I saved my political ass four years ago by the fact I owned a dog named Checkers and my wife Pat owned a good Republican cloth coat and not a mink coat,” Nixon said.
“I recall that,” Albion nodded.
“Anyways that damned fool Nelson Rockefeller went and bought my wife Pat a mink coat last Christmas,” Nixon frowned.
“Why did he do that?” Albion looked perplexed.
“I’ve been told that it was vengeance for my leaving his hotel room door open for his wife Mary at the 1952 Republican convention,” Nixon now looked perplexed, “She apparently walked into the bedroom while some British woman named Sherrielock Holmes was showing Nelson how to make tomatoed buns. I thought Mary would be happy about someone showing her husband how to cook but apparently she wasn’t.”
“So Rocky bought Pat a mink coat as vengeance?” Albion ate some jelly beans.
“That’s right,” Nixon said, “And now it’s been stolen. By the Mafia. And they’re offering it for sale to the highest bidder down at a casino in Havana. That bastard Joe Kennedy Sr., the father of Sen. Jack Kennedy, is going to try to buy it in a move designed to embarrass me. He’ll present it to the press as evidence that “Pat doesn’t have cloth to mink around anymore.” The swine.”
“So what would you like me to do?” Albion asked.
“It will be offered both at the cards table and then the roulette table prior to auction,” Nixon scratched his nose, “I want you to try to win it for me ahead of time.”
. . .
Fidel Castro sat in the lobby of the Spanish Crown casino.
He pointed out the decor and the clientele to his friend Ernesto Che Guevara.
Said Castro bitterly, “This is what Batista wants to turn all of Cuba into. A playground for America’s wealthy.”
. . .
“Who is the best poker player in all of Cuba?” Albion asked the British Ambassador to Havana.
“And what do you want with the best poker player in all of Cuba?” Sir Justin Burstpipes asked.
“I need him to win a mink coat for me,” Albion replied.
“You always come up with the most interesting answers to my questions, Albion,” Sir Justin sipped his gin, “We could use you at the Foreign Office in London. Your answers could shake the dust off the cobwebs there. But in answer to your question, the best poker player in Cuba is a her not a him.”
“And who is she?” Albion asked.
“Right over there,” Sir Justin Burstpipes pointed in her direction, “Isabel Esmeronde, Cuban singer extraordinaire.”
. . .
Isabel Esmeronde won Pat Nixon’s mink coat at the poker table.
Carson Cody Albion lived up to the British Ambassador’s last name as soon as he saw her as did the British Ambassador himself.
After Isabel left the cards table, Albion said to her, “Can I buy you a drink?”.
Isabel smiled and shook her head no, “I have an appointment with a time traveling Canadian vampire hunter later tonight.”
And with that statement, she bowed and left.
“Well with her answers and her assets, she’d definitely shake up the Foreign Office in London for the better,” Sir Justin Burstpipes remarked as he gazed at her entrance into the casino lounge.
Later in the lounge that night, Isabel Esmeronde sang, “Some enchanted evening, you may see a stranger…”
Dracul Van Helsing time traveler from the future watched her sing.
He loved enchanted evenings.
Isabel Esmeronde: Some enchanted evening
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday March 27th
2019.
Basil and The Basilisk: A Poem
Basil was a farmer about his business
He milked the cows
fed the pigs
and gathered eggs of the chickens
But he did not enter the green barn
For the green barn contained a creature
he would have no dealings with.
The green barn was leased by Set Enterprises in London
Whatever experiments in that barn went beyond that sanctioned
by both God and man
Dr. Cadbury Rocher who showed up in a black Jaguar car one day
And then a red Jaguar car the next
And went around saying “The devil is in the details”
Gave Basil the farmer both a medieval bestiary
and the Naturalis Historia of Pliny the Elder
And marked pages saying, “Read, should you feel the inclination
to enter the green barn”
Now Basil’s Latin wasn’t exactly up to snuff
(his wife had cured him of the irritating habit of sticking
tobacco up his nose and then sneezing when they were first married)
but J.K. Rowling occasionally came to the Farmers’ Market in a nearby town to shop
So he asked her to translate from the original Latin
What he heard from Rowling turned his hair on end
He told his wife what he had heard
And both agreed they should never enter the green barn
Not of course they had any inkling to do so before
For a giant rooster in a cage had been taken into the barn
and then a giant snake in a cage
Then the sound of two different species but same genders co-mingling
in the night
While the Baphomet stood outside the barn saying,
“Everything is all right,
We need to open our minds
And cast aside old prejudices”
Pope Francis gave his apostolic blessing
via satellite transmission
and the Mayor of San Francisco said
This was bringing tears to his eyes
One night a man came to the farmhouse door
claiming to be a traveling guru
And asking food and shelter for the night
Basil and Bella agreed.
“There is no God”, the guru assured them with the solemnity of a Richard Dawkins
And then smiled,
“For God is within”
He took some Rolaids tablets for his heartburn
“There is no Devil either,” the guru smiled, “We create our own gods and devils. Good and evil are within us.”
He chewed some Exlax tablets
“And then project those outwards on to our surroundings”
“Where is your washroom?” The guru asked Farmer Basil
for the aftereffects of the externally applied medication
turned out to be fast acting.
“And there are times we are called upon to run like the wind”
The traveling guru remarked as he ran up the stairs
When he came back, he asked, “Where should I sleep?”
“I hope you don’t mind the kitchen floor,” Farmer Basil replied,
“For we only have the one bedroom and my wife and I
just bought the Dracul Van Helsing Guide To Tantric Sex and are looking forward to applying it tonight”
“We just watched MP Renfield R. Renfield on the telly tonight,” Bella smiled, “he was complaining about the fact that Van Helsing had tantric sex with the current heiress to the Queen of Sheba’s throne in Jerusalem last Saturday and then had tantric sex with the Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec during a raging sea storm on the Isle of Patmos last night”
“Such astounding declarations make me wonder whether it was right for me to take the path of celibacy,” the guru had temporarily lost his beatific Buddha like smile
“What about the green barn over there?” The guru pointed outside,
“It seems very large. I could sleep there.”
“That is the habitat of the Basilisk,” Basil replied, “a creature of legend and mythology that has been resurrected in the modern world
thanks to the Transhumanist experiments of one Dr. Cadbury Rocher of
Set Enterprises”
“Basilisk?” The guru blinked.
“A serpent king that is a hybrid of a rooster and a serpent” Basil answered
“And like Empire actor Jussie Smollett,” Bella added, “is immune to criminal prosecution since it’s considered politically incorrect to do so.”
Basil went on, “The Basilisk is so venomous, it leaves a wide trail of deadly venom in its wake. And its gaze is likewise lethal.”
“The sort of entity that Bill Clinton would marry but not have an extramarital affair with,” Bella pointed out.
“Well, I ain’t afraid of no Basilisk,” the guru paraphrased a lyric from the theme song to the original 1984 Ghostbusters movie.
Basil and Bella looked at him.
“Like I’ve been trying to tell you, we create our own reality,” the guru said, “Like attracts like. Positive attracts positive. Negative attracts negative. I shall enter the green barn with positive thoughts and no harm shall come to me.”
The guru entered the barn.
There was no noise.
Basil and Bella went back into the farmhouse.
The next morning a Set Enterprises team came out like they did every morning
Dressed like Star Wars Imperial Stormtroopers in their protective suits
They carried out the body of the guru
who had turned to stone
Under the Basilisk’s venemous gaze
(As did creatures under Medusa’s gaze of old)
The Basilisk was obviously not subject to whatever reality
The guru thought he could create
with his own mind.
-A poem and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday March 26th
2019.
Bella has gazed on many things but will not gaze on the Basilisk
Renfield Muses On The Mueller Report
British MP Renfield R. Renfield had left the House of Commons while fisticuffs and wrestling matches over Brexit were still going on.
British Prime Minister Theresa May had former Foreign Secretary Boris Johnson in a headlock and British Labour leader Jeremy Corbyn was having his balls crushed by members of the Democratic Ulster Party.
Renfield joined his friends Amadeus Emanon and Angelique Dumont for dinner in a nearby restaurant.
As Renfield and Angelique already had both dessert and then coffee while Amadeus was now working on his 33rd plate of the All You Can Eat Fish and Chips Special, the chef and the owner were both down on their knees saying their Hail Marys that the concert pianist’s ravenous appetite would soon come to an end.
“So,” Amadeus sipped on his iced tea, “what’s your reaction to the Mueller Report?”.
“Well, it should come as no surprise to intelligent people that there was no collusion between the Russians and the Trump campaign,” Renfield slowly worked on his third post-dinner and dessert cup of coffee, “as intelligent people realize that Vladimir Putin is too intelligent a man to have his intelligence agencies co-operate and work with a disaster in the making like Donald Trump. That fact was of course totally lost on the New York Times, The Washington Post and most Congressional Democrats. But then of course it would be.”
“I noticed the Mueller Report did not give a definite statement one way or the other on whether Donald Trump obstructed justice,” Angelique noted.
“No, I suppose a legal opinion will have to be formulated on whether or not being an idiot constitutes obstruction of justice,” Renfield leaned back in his seat, “The question did not have to be addressed previously in American history because no one like Donald Trump had ever occupied the White House before.”
“What does this portend for the future?” Amadeus asked as he was trying to decide between eating his piece of halibut or his piece of cod next.
“Well, it does bode well for Trump,” Renfield said, “given the New York Times and Washington Post track record. Both papers said there was no way Trump would win the 2016 election. When he did, both papers’ editorial boards tried to explain away their colossal error in judgment by blaming Trump’s victory on the Russians. Now that Mueller has shot a hole in that theory leaving both The Times and The Post with egg on their faces (causing vegan subscribers to both papers to cancel their subscriptions over the outrageous use of poultry byproducts), they will no doubt continue to insist that there’s no way Trump can win re-election. Which should be good news for Trump.”
“What will this mean for the world stage?” Angelique asked.
“Well, the Nicolas Maduro regime in Venezuela can probably breathe a sigh of relief,” Renfield answered, “as there probably won’t be any U.S. military intervention in Venezuela in the near future. Which would have been the case had Mueller found any criminal wrongdoing on Trump’s part. Trump would then have done what any U.S. President had done in the past when faced with a major political scandal at home and that is to start a war abroad in order to divert the electorate’s attention and get people to rally around the flag and rally around the President as the bearer of the flag. Venezuela being the closest place to intervene would have been Trump’s first choice. An added benefit as well since the body bags wouldn’t have so far to fly home.”
“So does this mean peace on the world stage?” Amadeus waved to the waiter to order another plate of fish and chips.
“Sadly no,” Renfield shook his head, “The situation in the Middle East could blow sky high at any moment. There was already a Hamas rocket attack on a suburb of Tel Aviv overnight. And the Israeli Air Force are currently bombing Gaza in retaliation. Syria, Iran and Russia may decide to do something about the Golan Heights situation in response to Trump recognizing Israeli sovereignty over the area. There are all sorts of fuses that could go off over there.”
The Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec during a raging sea storm on the Isle of Patmos (site of the Apostle Saint John’s vision of the Apocalypse)
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday March 25th
2019.
When Cultures Meet: Reflections On Love, War and Conquest – A Short Poem
War can conquer a man’s body and surroundings
But it is the dance that conquers a man’s heart
Robert Mueller, Interpol’s Mulder and The Red Dragon Banner
Yesterday U.S. Special Counsel Robert Mueller had presented his report on possible Russian state-Trump campaign collusion to the U.S. Attorney-General’s Department.
Now both the Trump White House and Democrats in the U.S. Congress were anxious to get their hands on the report.
As such, both the Norse trickster god Loki and the native American indigenous trickster spirit Coyote had joined forces and were working overtime to ensure that the words and conclusions of the copy of the Mueller report that Donald Trump received were vastly different from the words and conclusions of the copy of the Mueller report that Sen. Chuck Schumer and Rep. Nancy Pelosi received.
As such when all the parties issued their respective tweets and press conferences on the subject, that should really set off fireworks all around.
CNN, The Washington Post and The New York Times would accuse Trump of lying and misrepresenting the report.
And Fox News, Breitbart and The National Enquirer would accuse Schumer and Pelosi of lying and misrepresenting the report.
And both the National Rifle Association and Planned Parenthood would issue statements that no killings whatsoever happen in America.
And Vladimir Putin, Xi Jinping and Kim Jong-un would hold an emergency summit in which the 3 leaders would come to the conclusion that the United States of America as a whole was collectively insane and possibly should be collectively euthanized for the sake of planet Earth.
. . .
Peter Whitstable was the man they called the Fox Mulder of Interpol.
In his investigation of all things paranormal and occult, it had come to his attention that the singer Beyonce might possibly be descended from Marie Laveau the famous Voodoo Queen of New Orleans.
And as Whitstable sat in The Blue Lantern Chinese Restaurant in Los Angeles – an historic landmark famous because an LA private eye had once made out with an LA high society debutante in public in the booth right next to the Smiling Buddha there (the story was the Buddha’s smile grew even wider after he had watched the encounter) back in 1941- he noticed Beyonce and her husband Jay-Z enter the restaurant.
This was Whitstable’s chance to ask the singer in person.
“Excuse me, Miss Beyonce,” he approached the beautiful musical superstar, “I was wondering if you could tell me if you’re descended from Marie Laveau the Voodoo Queen of New Orleans.”
As Jay-Z scowled, Beyonce raised her right foot and with her spiked stiletto high-heeled shoe kicked the Interpol operative right out the door.
Former California governor Arnold Schwarzenegger who was sitting at the table facing the Smiling Buddha swore that the Smiling Buddha’s smile grew wider yet again at the sight of the singer’s slit skirted and black silk pantyhose kick.
. . .
Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing was in Jerusalem.
As he had been wrestling in bed with the Syro-Phoenician goddess Atargatis for control of Maximilien Robespierre’s little black book in a New York City apartment back in 1939, his pet blue eyed white wolf had grabbed the book in its jaws and brought it to this current year of 2019.
The book contained a prophecy given by a clairvoyant prostitute (who had once dressed up as the Goddess of Reason in a worship ceremony held in Notre Dame Cathedral shortly after the French Revolution) that Robespierre had written down in the book.
The prophecy was about the Golan Heights in the year 2019.
The prophecy said that “the blood of the giant progeny of the Nephilim to be found in the ground below the Heights would bring great wealth to those who owned it”.
And of course Donald Trump had just recognized Israeli sovereignty over the Golan Heights.
And the company that had been given exclusive drilling rights to the oil and gas underneath the Golan Heights was a company called Genie Energy.
Genie of course was the English equivalent of djinn in Islamic tradition – supernatural entities created out of “smokeless fire” who are able to eat and drink and also have children like humans but were much faster and stronger than humans.
Some scholars wondered whether the djinn were not the same as the Nephilim -supernatural Watchers of planet Earth – who were mentioned in Genesis Chapter 6 and the 1st Book of Enoch.
Sitting on the Board of Advisors of Genie Energy were such notables as Baron Jacob Rothschild, former Vice-President Dick Cheney, Rupert Murdoch, former Energy Secretary Bill Richardson and Ira Greenstein (a close business associate of Jared Kushner’s family) who was the former President of Genie Energy as well as a former legal advisor to President Donald Trump.
Van Helsing was in Jerusalem to check out the claims.
He had with him in his hotel room the Red Dragon Banner a special dragon standard flag (that sported a scarlet red dragon against a black background) that had belonged to his ancestor King Arthur.
The dragon was able to miraculously breathe fire in battle when called upon.
Van Helsing figured it might be needed in these times.
The Canadian vampire hunter was in a Jerusalem warehouse there to meet with a woman who was a direct descendant of the Queen of Sheba and King Solomon.
When he saw her, Van Helsing’s smile was wider than that of the Smiling Buddha in the Blue Lantern Chinese Restaurant in Los Angeles.
A woman who was the direct descendant of the Queen of Sheba.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday March 23rd
2019.
Dracul Van Helsing 
Haiku About Dostoevsky’s Vision of Future Communism In Russia
March 22, 2019 at 10:11 pm (Commentary, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, Literature, Philosophy, Poetry, Politics, Religion) (Bolshevism, Communism, Dostoevsky, haiku, poem, Russia, Russian Bolshevik Revolution, visions of the future)
Fire in minds of men
Blood and revolution come
Hell will replace Christ
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