What The Artist Sees

April 3, 2022 at 9:59 pm (Art, Arts, Literature, Poetry) ()

“Most people see the world through their own views and prejudices. Mr. Lockhart sees the world with a rare clarity. Perhaps that’s what it means to be an artist.”

-Character of Arthur Parker to the character of Georgiana Lambe in the BBC TV series Sanditon based on the unfinished novel by Jane Austen

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Renfield’s Monday Night Podcast and Michelangelo’s Vision of Renfield At Future Oscars

March 28, 2022 at 10:56 pm (Arts, Culture, Entertainment, Film, Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, Movies, News, Television, Vampire novel) (, , , , , )

Violinist Tina Guo is performing with the Hans Zimmer Live Tour over in Europe
Hans Zimmer won Best Musical Score for the movie Dune at last night’s Oscars

British MP Renfield R. Renfield was doing a Monday night podcast.

Said Renfield, “A few days ago senile old fool Joe Biden was in Poland shooting his mouth off about “freedom” and “liberty”.
What does a vaccinazi despot like Joe Biden know about “freedom” and “liberty” when he wanted to impose a national vaccine mandate on all of America?
The senile old fool Joe Biden also called for “Putin to be removed from power”. There’s nothing like tellng the leader of a rival nuclear power that you want him removed from power.
Of course Joe Biden’s handlers want nuclear war with Russia.
That way they can reduce the world’s population without waiting for those vaccine booster shots to kick in.
Although they are doing an excellent job in my own country of England.
British government data shows that 92.2% of all Covid deaths are among the triple vaccinated.
And last week Eastern European members of the European Parliament gave visiting Canadian Neo-Stalinist tyrant Justin Trudeau the raspberry that he so richly deserved.
Romanian and Croatian MEPs mentioned how he sent police horses to trample peaceful protestors and then passed an Emergencies Act so that he could seize the bank accounts of people whose political views he disagreed with.
This is the stuff of dictatorship the Romanian and Croatian MEPs pointed out (who were all too familiar with Communist dictators in their own countries).
Even the Presidents of both El Salvador and Honduras have called Justin Trudeau a despot and a dictator for sending police horses to trample protestors and for seizing bank accounts.
Personally I think Justin Trudeau should be publicly hanged by the neck until dead and his Nazi/Communist hybrid hag henchwoman Chrystia Freeland should be burnt at the stake as a witch.
Failing that, both of them should be charged with high treason against the Charter of Rights in the Canadian Constitution (that Justin’s stepdad Pierre had put in) and then thrown in jail.
If Justin Castro Trudeau was to have his lily white ass sodomized numerous times while he was in prison,that would be the best thing that could ever happen to him.”

. . .

Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster had a vision of a future Oscars ceremony some years down the road.

Renfield had been nominated for the role of Best Actor for playing the role of Prince Hal in a Kenneth Branagh directed production of William Shakespeare’s Henry IV Part 1.

Michelangelo was surprised to see Renfield was married in the vision as he sat at a front table close to the stage with his wife.

A foul mouthed comedian Justin Trudeau was to present the next award for Best Porn Film (a new Oscar category) in Michelangelo’s vision.

Foul mouthed comedian Justin Trudeau was a former Canadian Prime Minister who had been jailed for treason for a number of years.

Despite Justin Trudeau having been such a huge asshole, believe it or not his anus was a lot bigger after it had left prison than it was before coming in.

The foul mouthed alleged comic Justin Trudeau made an obscene insulting remark about Renfield’s wife.

Renfield got up on to the stage and approached the foul mouthed comic.

“Oh, oh,” one of the Academy Awards commentators could be heard saying, “I wonder if Renfield is going to punch Justin Trudeau like Will Smith did to Chris Rock a few years back.”

Renfield reached into his pocket, pulled out a gun and blew Justin Trudeau’s head off.

Justin Trudeau lay dead on the stage in a pool of blood- his perfectly coiffured hair now a tangled mess.

“Oh, oh,” one of the other commentators said, “I wonder what can be done about this situation as Renfield was granted a 007 License To Kill by Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II a few years back. Maybe if he wins the Best Actor Award for his portrayal of Prince Hal in Henry IV Part 1, they’ll take the Oscar away from him.”

“Not if they want to live until the next morning, they won’t,” his commentating partner suggested.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday March 28th
2022.

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Theatre At The Comedie-Francaise

February 3, 2022 at 11:48 pm (Arts, Culture, History, Literature, Plays, Poetry, theatre, Theatre Arts, Vampire novel) (, , , )

She watched the play being performed
Dom Juan ou le Festin de Pierre
(Don Juan or The Feast of the Stone {Statue})
A five-act 1665 comedy by Moliere

As she watched with increased intensity

She herself longed for a taste of Dom Juan’s own sword
She licked her lips
And reached for a handkerchief
To dab a spot

On the stage Dom Juan told a jealous husband,
“Young Leibniz says this is the best of all possible worlds”
To which the jealous husband replied,
“Thou black hearted swine,thou hast made a cuckold of me
Like Zeus did of Philip II of Macedon with Queen Olympias
And you have the nerve to say,
“This is the best of all possible worlds”.

“Last night,” Dom Juan bit into an apple, “Your wife
experienced the best of all possible worlds.”
The husband went into a rage, lifted his sword
and spoke, “I shall make a pork pie of thee
And feed thy black heart to my chickens.”

She watched the sword play on the stage
And redness came to her cheeks
“Oh let his heart be mine
and not that of the chickens.”
Her breasts rose up and down
like a stormy night on
the English Channel.

“Oh, I am slain,” said the husband.
“Young Leibniz is right,” Dom Juan smiled and raised his sword in triumph,
“This is the best of all possible worlds.”

The woman fainted in her seat.

Later in the final act and the final scene
As the stone statue of a man
Whom Don Juan had murdered
Carries Dom Juan down to Hell,
Dom Juan shouts,
“Young Leibniz is wrong,
This is NOT the best of all possible worlds.”

The woman up in the theatre balcony box
Fanned herself with a handkerchief
And said,
“Oh Leibniz, there are more things in Hell
Than are dreamt of in thy philosophy.”

Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster
Awakened from his dream
And wondered if Moliere’s 1665
production of Dom Juan
was actually like that.

-A poem and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday February 3rd
2022.

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Morgan Le Fay

May 21, 2021 at 10:40 pm (Art, Arts, Ghost Story, History, painting, Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , )

Picture of Morgan Le Fay

“So you’re trying to track down the original painting that appears at this website?” British MP Renfield R. Renfield asked Dashwood Forrest the owner and curator of the Dashwood Forrest Art Gallery in London.

“I am,” Forrest nodded, “I’ve come across sketches of this portrait in various books and they say it’s a portrait of Morgan Le Fay.”

“The Arthurian era enchantress?” Renfield sipped a martini, “But the woman in this portrait looks like a woman of the 1930s judging by her hairstyle and style of dress. I thought Morgan Le Fay died back in the Arthurian era.”

“There were rumours that back in 1930 an archaeologist found her grave on the Isle of Avalon not far from Glastonbury and a spiritist medium friend of the archaeologist used her incredible occultic powers to bring Morgan Le Fay back from the dead,” Forrest explained.

“And someone in the decade of the 1930s painted her picture?” Renfield finished his martini.

“Yes,” Forrest nodded.

“I wonder who?” Renfield looked at the website photograph of the painting as Forrest shrugged.

. . .

The ghost of Winston Churchill and the ghost of Orson Welles were sitting in comfortable armchairs in the living room of the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set’s colossal West London estate.

Both were smoking spectral cigars.

Churchill was sipping a spectral brandy.

And Welles was sipping a spectral glass of spectral red wine.

“Anyways,” Churchill continued with his story to Welles, “In my painting career, I painted in various different painting styles. I once painted what looked to be in style a black and white photo of Morgan Le Fay but it was actually a painting. One I must say I was exceptionally proud of. Sadly, Clementine didn’t like it and gave it away to someone. She wouldn’t say who. She didn’t want me to get it back. I think Clementine was jealous of Morgan Le Fay’s exceptional beauty.”

“Do you mean Morgan Le Fay the Arthurian era enchantress?” Welles almost spilled his spectral glass of spectral red wine all over his ghostly suit, “But I thought she died back in Arthurian times.”

“She was apparently brought back from the dead in 1930,” Churchill explained.

“Is she still alive today?” Welles asked.

. . .

“Is this seat taken?” The beautiful and attractive young woman asked Dracul Van Helsing in the Saint George’s Pub.

“No, it most definitely is not,” Van Helsing answered.

The woman sat down in the pub booth directly across from Dracul Van Helsing.

Her dress, her fur covering, her necklace, her gloves, her hairstyle and appearance seem to have been accurately and prophetically depicted by one Winston Leonard Spencer Churchill many decades ago.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday May 21st
2021.

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Memories of Selena

March 25, 2021 at 9:53 pm (Arts, Culture, History, Music) (, , , , )

Selena Quintanilla

Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell was the CEO of Aulos Music and Recording Ltd. in London.

He had become the CEO of the company after buying it (through a loan given to him by the London-based billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set) in 2018.

Previously he had been an Executive Vice-President of the Company.

This past year of the pandemic there had not been much recording going on at his studios on Abbey Road- the Wuthering Heights and Glencoe Hospitality Recording Studios.

As most musicians and singers did their performances via podcast and livestream.

So Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell had used the past year to write his memoirs.

He had run for the 2008 Democratic Presidential nomination in the U.S. and had come in an extremely extremely extremely distant third behind Barack Obama and Hillary Rodham Clinton.

He moved to London England in 2010 to become Executive Vice-President of Aulos Music and Recording Ltd. to fulfill a lifelong dream he had of one day becoming a music producer.

Prior to his Presidential run, he had been an Executive Vice-President of Vidal Sassoon Hair Products.

Today he was busy recalling the year 1994.

He was remembering the day that year a friend of his had invited him to a small recording studio that the friend owned in San Antonio, Texas.

He recalled walking through the door of the recording studio and there sitting on a chair was a woman with one of the loveliest smiles he had ever seen in his life.

Selena Quintanilla

Campbell was disappointed in himself for at that time he had never heard of this young and promising young star bound to become a superstar.

She however sang and recorded a song in his friend’s studio that day.

It was a song in Spanish.

It was so beautiful that Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell resolved someday to learn the language.

Sadly he had never done that either up until this point in his life.

He recalled a year later in 1995 the day that he had heard Selena had been shot and killed by the President of her own fan club.

March 31st 1995.

In less than a week, it would be the 26th anniversary of her tragic death.

A young talent taken from the world too soon.

A lovely smile taken from the world too soon.

-written by Christopher
Thursday March 25th
2021.

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Portrait of Tapairu The Tahitian Sleeping Beauty

March 21, 2021 at 10:27 pm (Art, Arts, History, Romance, Short Story, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , )

Portrait of Tapairu the Tahitian Sleeping Beauty

“What an absolutely beautiful painting,” Sherrielock Holmes the (quite literally) immortal twin sister of London consulting detective Sherlock Holmes gazed at the newest acquisition now hanging in the Dashwood Forrest Art Gallery in London.

Mr. Truffles her orange tabby cat purred in agreement and looked up affectionately at the painting.

“It was painted in Tahiti back in 1894 by one Sean Seamus O’ Gill an Irish painter and artist who lived on the island of Tahiti around the same time as the French artist Paul Gauguin,” Dashwood Forrest the art gallery owner and curator explained, “sadly Mr. O’ Gill is not as well known as Gauguin.”

As the old grandfather clock chimed in the gallery and the statue of a gnome emerged out of a small drawer to turn over an hourglass whose sands had just run out, images from a past time seemed to filter into the present.

Sean Seamus O’ Gill looked at the vision in front of him.

“What a vision,” Sean Seamus O’ Gill remarked to the French missionary priest Father Jacques La Croix.

“It’s like that old Irish hymn whose lyrics begin “Be thou my vision”, eh, Sean?” Father La Croix smiled.

“I guess you could phrase it that way,” Sean nodded, “She does look divine.”

“That she does,” Father La Croix agreed.

“Are you sure she wouldn’t object to being painted while sleeping?” Sean asked.

“No,” Father La Croix shook his head, “She wants to be painted while sleeping. She wants this portrait to be called the Tahitian Sleeping Beauty. She wants to give it as a gift to the man she’s going to marry.”

“She’s engaged?” A look of disappointment crossed Sean’s face.

“Nothing official yet,” Father La Croix answered, “but she hopes to be.”

And so that was how Sean Seamus O’ Gill came to paint the portrait of Tapairu the Tahitian sleeping beauty.

Over the next few months, Sean would sketch drawings and eventually paint pictures afterwards of Tapairu dancing at night in the village center like a royal dancer.

He would sketch drawings and paint pictures afterwards of Tapairu singing to school children during the day.

One of the village matriarchs took notice of his work.

“I’ve been told that an artist likes to depict a subject he loves,” she smiled.

“Um… Tapairu just makes a good subject,” The artist seemed to blush, “That’s all.”

Sean did wonder though which of the many suitors that seemed to want to attract Tapairu’s attention, Tapairu had given her heart to.

On the night of Sean’s birthday, many of the villagers gave Sean gifts.

Tapairu gave Sean a carefully wrapped and rather large present.

Sean opened it.

This was what he saw.

Sean then remembered the words of Father La Croix that she wanted to give the portrait of the Tahitian Sleeping Beauty as a gift to the man she wanted to marry.

Tapairu smiled happily at him.

Sean smiled happily back.

-A short story and
vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday March 21st 2021.

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Doctors Frasier and Niles Crane Meet The Brides of Dracula

March 13, 2021 at 10:53 pm (Arts, Celebrities, Comedy, Culture, Entertainment, Gothic romance, Humour, Television, TV Shows, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , )

Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster had been binge watching episodes of the old TV series Frasier.

He then binge watched a Dracula movie marathon.

When that was over, he set his water proof alarm clock moving the time an hour ahead as tomorrow would be the start of Daylight Savings Time.

He then lay back on his water proof pillow and fell asleep.

He had a dream whereby Doctors Frasier and Niles Crane met the Brides of Dracula.

Niles: This is all your fault, Frasier. I don’t really relish the idea of walking around a spooky Transylvanian castle. It doesn’t really cut the mustard in my opinion. Hot doggetty!

Frasier: Niles, I wish you’d stop using those weird euphemisms uttered by that pot smoking hot dog salesman doing those late night infomercials advertising American cuisine recipes you can do in hot tubs. And why is it my fault? You were the one who insisted on giving two rather large glasses of sherry to my BMW’s GPS before we set out on this road trip.

Niles: Yes, well if you had stopped to ask for directions from that transgendered transvestite in the baked potato costume in Boisie, Idaho, we might not be in this mess.

Frasier: No, we might be in a bigger mess.

Niles: What could possibly be a bigger mess than a spooky Transylvanian castle?

Frasier: How about social distancing from a perfect 10 fashion model during a pandemic?

Niles: Frasier, I refuse to believe you dated a perfect 10 fashion model.

Frasier: So does everybody else.

Niles (pointing to a door): Where do you suppose this leads?

Frasier: Oh, I don’t know, Niles. Why don’t you open it and see how many other headwaiters with Hungarian accents lying in coffins we can come across? I haven’t donated so much blood since that multiple radio station personality blood donor challenge in Seattle way back in the day.

Niles (opening door and looking in): It’s the Brides of Dracula.

Frasier (looking in): My God, you’re right, Niles.

Niles: Frasier, I haven’t had so many erotic images and fantasies going through my mind since I first read that scene with the brides of Dracula in Bram Stoker’s novel Dracula as a sophomore back in prep school.

Frasier: That wouldn’t have been the night before the headmaster ordered that major steamcleaning of your mattress?

Niles: Frasier, I wish you hadn’t brought that up.

Frasier: Your mattress probably wished the same thing at the time as well.

Brides of Dracula (calling out): Niles, Frasier!

Niles (rushing in): I regret that I have but one life to give for my fantasy.

Frasier: Niles, quit being such a ham!

(Frasier rushes in)

Frasier: Be a blood sausage like me.

Voice of Count Dracula (singing in the background): I don’t know what to do with that tossed salad and scrambled eggs. They’re calling again.

Voice of Announcer: Good night, Transylvania.

The End.

-A Frasier Meets Brides of Dracula Episode
and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday March 13th
2021.

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Hera and The Gangsters

March 1, 2021 at 11:39 pm (Arts, Culture, Entertainment, Ghost Story, Mythology, Plays, Romance, The Supernatural, theatre, Theatre Arts, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , )

The Greek goddess Hera starring in a 1930s Broadway play about gangsters

It was the decade of the 1930s.

And the Greek goddess Hera was honing her theatrical skills by starring in a Broadway play about gangsters.

It was dress rehearsal night – the evening before the official opening.

Hera was awaiting the arrival of the gangster boss Big Frank Malone.

A man came on stage wearing a fedora hat and gangster suit and carrying a big violin case.

Hera, speaking out of character, said, “You don’t look like John Barrymore to me.”

“I’m afraid John is a bit under the weather tonight,” the understudy replacement for John Barrymore replied.

“How many bottles did he have to drink today?” Hera asked.

“You know the real Barrymore obviously,” Dracul Van Helsing, who had time travelled from the future and was now playing the role of Big Frank Malone in this play about gangsters, replied.

“That’s funny,” the ghost of Orson Welles, who had likewise time travelled from the future, remarked as he sat in the front row, “I don’t ever recall John Barrymore starring in a play about gangsters.”

“He possibly drank before each performance and never made it to the stage,” Van Helsing noted.

“By Jove, I think you’re right,” Welles agreed.

“Please, don’t use one of my husband’s Roman names,” Hera stood up.

“I forgot,” Welles bowed, “I do apologize.”

Hera approached Van Helsing, “Well, Dracul, since you’ve come from the future to step in for the great John Barrymore, perhaps we can do an improvisational performance tonight.”

“And what improvisational performance did you have in mind?” Van Helsing inquired.

“How about making out here on the stage?” Hera smiled.

And Hera and Van Helsing did just that.

“Not again,” Welles’ ghost buried his ghostly head in his ghostly hands.

As Hera and Van Helsing made out, soon thunder and lightning flashed around the stage.

“And furthermore, I just would happen to be in the very theatre on the night the Greek god Zeus decided to attend a Broadway play,” Welles’ ghost sighed.

The next day a hangover stricken John Barrymore was asked what happened to the theatre as it lay in ruins.

“Well, I know people are once again going to say this was a hallucination brought on by too much drink on my part,” Barrymore commented, “but it was an angry and cuckholded Greek god Zeus who destroyed this theatre because his wife the Olympian queen Hera was making out with a mortal.”

The members of the New York press laughed and shook their heads.

And that was the reason history has no record of John Barrymore starring in a Broadway play about gangsters.

The ghost of radio announcer Paul Harvey appeared in front of the lightning produced charred ashes of the theatre and gave his usual radio show sign-off, “And now you know the rest of the story.”

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday March 1st
2021.

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Valentine’s Day 2021 – 75th Anniversary of Release of Rita Hayworth’s Gilda

February 14, 2021 at 11:33 pm (Arts, Culture, Entertainment, Film, History, Movies, Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , )

It was 75 years ago today that the 1946 film Gilda starring Rita Hayworth was released.

The ghost of Orson Welles was sitting in an armchair in a reflective mood as he sat there sipping a spectral glass of spectral red wine.

“A penny for your thoughts,” said Renfield R. Renfield as he sat in an armchair sipping a brandy.

“He’s probably sitting there thinking it’s Valentine’s Day Night and none of us have a date this evening,” Dr. Marmalade Montague quipped as he sipped a cognac.

In the guest lobster tank in the living room of the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set’s London mansion, Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster held up a sign that asked WHEN SHALL WE FOUR LOSERS MEET AGAIN? IN THUNDER, LIGHTNING OR IN SPAIN?

“I think that’s supposed to be rain not Spain,” Renfield remarked.

In the kitchen, Athelstan the butler could be heard singing the song, “The rain in Spain stays mainly on the plain…”

“Remember to remind me never to fly over Spain,” Renfield commented.

“I don’t think it’s that type of plane,” Montague observed,” “I think it’s plain as in flat grassland not the object that flies through the air.”

Welles’ ghost was brought back to the present by the sheer inanity of the current conversation.

“I was just thinking that it was 75 years ago today that the movie Gilda starring my then wife Rita Hayworth was released,” Welles wiped away a spectral tear.

“That was considered her greatest role wasn’t it?” Renfield asked.

“It was,” Welles blew his ghostly nose in his spectral handkerchief as tears continued to fall down his cheeks and beard like Niagara Falls.

Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster pulled his waterproof guitar out of his waterproof suitcase and started playing the song Put The Blame On Mame.

“That song was from the movie Gilda wasn’t it?” Dr. Marmalade Montague asked.

“It was,” Welles’ ghost wiped away another spectral tear from his eyes.

“I don’t want to come across as being insensitive or anything,” Renfield adjusted his t-shirt that said THEY DON’T CALL ME LOUT FOR NOTHING, “but why are you bawling like a baby?”.

“Because less than 2 years after that film came out, Rita and I divorced,” Welles wiped away another tear, “Our marriage always was under somewhat a strain. Because as Rita herself said, “It’s tough being married to a genius’.”

“I’m sure that’s one problem Mrs. Justin Trudeau doesn’t have,” Renfield quipped.

“Anyways,” Welles continued, “After Gilda came out, Rita became a goddess in the public eye. And it’s tough for a mere mortal man to be married to a goddess.”

“I wonder if the reverse is true,” Dr. Marmalade Montague lit a pipe, “If it’s tough for a mere mortal woman to be married to a god.”

“Well there goes the Dan Brown hypothesis about who Mary Magdalene was married to down the drain,” Renfield reflected.

Meanwhile Nefertiti Galore the Estate’s guard cat had pulled the drain on the guest lobster tank much to Michelangelo’s discomfiture.

“Oh Rita, Rita,” Orson sobbed.

Welles’ mind returned to an earlier time.

When Rita played Gilda.

It seemed to be a far happier Valentine’s Day 75 years ago when Gilda was released.

For at that time, neither knew what the future held.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday February 14th
2021.

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When Greek Temples Stood

February 10, 2021 at 11:28 pm (Arts, Culture, Mythology, Poetry) (, )

There was a time
When Greek temples stood
In pristine
And newly built condition

When mighty pillars held up the temple top
And statues at the top
A goddess on either side
Of mighty Atlas who holds up the roof
In the same way he carried
The weight of the world
On his shoulders

There was a time
When statues
Of nymphs, imps and swans
Were fountains
Spraying forth
Warm blue water
Into warm pools of blue
Mediterranean blue
And one could bathe
In warm blue pool waters
And turning skyward
From the pool
One could see Astraeus
The god of dusk
Painting a golden farewell
To day
In the sky

There was a time
When Greek temples stood
In pristine
And newly built condition

Now is not that time

-A poem written by Christopher
Wednesday February 10th 2021.

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