On The Beach

August 31, 2017 at 3:28 pm (Arts, Culture, Mythology, Plays, The Supernatural, Theatre Arts, Vampire novel) ()

The great London stage actor Sir Carlton Hardisty sat on the North Sea beach on Norfolk’s coast.

He had spent a quiet summer with his daughter and grandchildren down in Cornwall.

And was now looking forward to the start of the West London theatre season this autumn.

Although he hadn’t quite escaped from his acting career over the summer.

They had wanted him to perform a murder in the Jamaica Inn one weekend down at that famous pub in Bodmin Moor which was the subject of Daphne du Maurier’s 1936 novel and Alfred Hitchcock’s 1939 film.

He found out that talking like Charles Laughton and not Johnny Depp didn’t make such a big hit with the younger crowd while playing the role of a Cornish cutthroat pirate.

Still he enjoyed eating the Cornish pasties after his performance.

Now that summer was winding down, he found the need to be alone.

As Greta Garbo once said, “I want to be alone.”

So he had left the Cornish coast and went in a straight northeasterly direction to the Norfolk coast.

Now he was sitting on a beach overlooking the North Sea.

He sat there wondering if he was too old to play James Bond.

It was damned inconsiderate of Daniel Craig to sign on to do another Bond picture thus robbing him of the chance to play the coveted secret agent.

Oh well, maybe he’ll end up playing an aging Captain Kirk who cries at Mr. Spock’s deathbed before he had the chance to ask Spock to march in a Gay Pride parade with him.

Hardisty looked down at the object in his hand.

It was a ship in a bottle.

Or more precisely Captain Nemo’s submarine Nautilus from Jules Verne’s novel 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea.

His grandson had made it and asked his grandfather to cast the bottle adrift in the North Sea.

Inside the Nautilus submarine itself was a note written in Latin, his grandson had explained.

A message in a ship in a bottle.

Written in Latin.

Oh well, maybe Julius Caesar’s ghost will find it, Sir Carlton reflected as he threw it into the North Sea.

Otherwise the Latin message would be Greek to most people especially a Novus Ordo Catholic priest.

After he threw the bottle into the sea, a seagull circled around him flying metres above his head.

Then the seagull landed on the beach and circled around him walking in the sand.

Then it flew away squawking.

The whole scene reminded him of Nina’s line from Anton Chekhov’s play The Sea Gull, “You speak in symbols.”

Speaking of Chekhov, maybe he could ask the Starship Enterprise’s navigator to march in a Gay Pride parade with him now that Spock was dead, Sir Carlton Hardisty thought aloud reverting to character as an aging Captain James Tiberius Kirk with emphasis on his middle name.

30 metres from shore, the Greek god of the sea Poseidon stood with his head just above the waves picking his nose with his trident.

“Puck was right,” Poseidon puckered as he picked, “What fools these mortals be.”

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday August 31st
2017.

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Haiku About The Portrait of Dorian Gray

August 27, 2017 at 7:06 pm (Art, Arts, Literature, Poetry) (, , , , , )

Haiku About The Portrait of Dorian Gray

Portrait figure old
its subject eternal youth
free from sin’s karma

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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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Orson Welles and The Woman of Mystery Part 2

August 9, 2017 at 5:48 pm (Arts, Entertainment, Film, Movies, Mystery, Romance, Science-Fiction, The Supernatural, Vampire novel, western) (, , , , , , )

Orson Welles and The Woman of Mystery Part 2

It turned out that Serena was a screenplay writer.

“A screenplay?” Welles reached for her script, “And what sort of screenplay have you written?”.

“It’s for a Western,” Serena replied.

“Really?” Welles raised an eyebrow, “I was just contemplating whether I should make a Western. You must have read 📖 my mind.”

“It’s a great mind to read, Mr. Welles,” Serena smiled at him.

“Thank you, my dear,” Welles started to read through her script.

When he had finished reading, Welles peered at Serena, his eyes looking at her just above the script.

“So, let me get this straight,” Welles looked at Serena, “this Wild West saloon bartender named Belvedere is still a virgin at 45 years of age. He is propositioned by one of the recently hired working girls at the saloon/bordello (which Belvedere naively doesn’t know is a bordello as well as a saloon) to come up to her room above the saloon and sleep with her. When he wakes up the next morning after a night of passionate lovemaking, not only is his virginity now gone but he’s received a bill for $20 as the price of payment for her sleeping with him.”

“That is correct,” Serena sat on Welles’ desk and crossed her lovely nylon clad legs as she smoothed her skirt.

“Ah, those glory days of the Wild Wild West,” Welles smiled, “it’s considerably more than $20 for such services these days.”

Serena looked at him.

“Or so I’ve been told,” Welles cleared his throat.

Serena just smiled.

“And then,” Welles returned to the script, “when Belvedere refuses to pay her, she uses an ancient Egyptian spell to turn him into a white salamander. In fact a colour of white that was ghostly white in colour so he becomes a ghost white salamander.”

“That is correct,” Serena nodded.

“And then in a panic once he discovers that he’s become a ghost white salamander, Belvedere runs down the outside stairwell of The Wild Tomatoes and Mushroom Saloon and jumps into the Main Street of the town where he is promptly run over by a covered wagon heading west. He dies instantly and becomes the ghost of a ghost white salamander.”

“You’ve got it,” Serena threw back her hair and smiled at him.

“You know,” Welles sat there and reflected, “years ago when I was in my radio studio in New York City 🌃 and doing my final script reading of the Mercury Theatre On The Air’s War of The Worlds broadcast before it was actually broadcast over the airwaves, a ghost white salamander named Belvedere appeared to me and told me a similar story of what had happened to him. Later I just thought I had fallen asleep at the microphone 🎤 while rehearsing and dreamed the whole thing.”

“Maybe you didn’t dream the whole thing,” Serena uncrossed and crossed her legs again.

“I must say,” Welles laughed, “that I love the idea of the proprietress of this Wild Tomatoes and Mushroom Saloon where Belvedere works being Sherlock Holmes’ lesser known twin sister Sherrielock Holmes who’s a professional dominatrix by profession.”

“It makes for interesting reading doesn’t it?” Serena laughed.

“And for even more interesting camera 🎥 angles and close-up shots,” Welles mused aloud with a huge smile on his face, “I particularly love the directions in the script where the saloon/bordello’s new working girl Serena… say that just hit me now… same name as yours… has a classic old style railway watch that hangs on a chain down the middle of her bosom.”

“Yes, Belvedere really liked that,” Serena smiled, “he was always asking what time it was.”

Welles looked at her and laughed, “You almost talk like you were there.”

Serena just smiled and said nothing.

“Funny that dream… or what I thought was a dream the day I was rehearsing for that evening’s War of The Worlds broadcast back on October 30th 1938, Belvedere the ghost white salamander told me that he thought it was a gypsy he didn’t pay for sleeping with him who turned him into a ghost white salamander,” Welles recalled.

“It wasn’t a gypsy,” Serena pulled a classic vintage antique railway watch on a chain up from her blouse, “it was a time traveler.”

“A time traveler?” Welles smiled at her, “so we have a movie that’s both a Western and Science-Fiction at the same time?”.

“That is correct,” Serena put the antique railway watch back down her blouse undoing some buttons at the top.

Welles had noticed this action.

“I say,” Welles said to her, “you wouldn’t happen to know what time it is would you?”.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday August 5th
2017.

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Haiku About Godzilla RIP

August 8, 2017 at 4:51 pm (Arts, Entertainment, Film, Folklore, Movies, News, Obituaries, Poetry) (, , , , )

Haiku About Godzilla RIP

This haiku is written in honour of Japanese actor Haruo Nakajima the man who played Godzilla in the first 12 original Godzilla movies that were made from 1954 to 1972.

Mr. Nakajima died yesterday Monday August 7th at the age of 88.

Haiku About Godzilla RIP

He was Godzilla
the monster whose voice was good
for marshmallow roasts

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Orson Welles and The Woman of Mystery

August 4, 2017 at 5:41 pm (Arts, Culture, Film, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, International Intrigue, Romance, Science-Fiction, The Supernatural, Vampire novel, western) (, , , , , , )

Orson Welles and The Woman of Mystery

It was August of 1945. Japan had surrendered. Hitler was dead. Roosevelt was dead. Churchill had been defeated in the recent British general election.

And Clement Attlee, Harry Truman and Joseph Stalin had met in Potsdam to decide the fate of the world.

And Orson Welles was busy contemplating the next movie he should make.

He was thinking of making a movie about the aftermath of the war.

But given what the world just went through, maybe audiences were looking for a film that wouldn’t be about war.

What then?

A western perhaps?

It was watching John Ford’s 1939 Western film Stagecoach over and over again that Welles had taught himself the techniques of film making when he had signed the unprecedented contract with RKO Radio Pictures to make 3 films for them.

But what sort of Western?, Welles wondered to himself.

His secretary walked into his studio office, “A young woman here to see you, Mr. Welles.”

“Really?” Welles looked out his office door and noticed a very beautiful young blonde woman standing in the reception room.

Welles stood there positively enchanted.

“Send her in,” said Welles.

His secretary motioned the woman to enter.

The young beautiful blonde woman did so.

Welles’ secretary exited and closed the door behind her.

“I’m Orson Welles,” Welles extended his hand.

“Serena,” the young woman shook his hand.

“Serena…?” Welles waited for a last name.

The woman looked at him and smiled, “The past is history and the future is mystery. So for now, I’m just Serena.”

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday August 4th
2017.

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South African Artist SAREJESS and The Sundial On A Moonlit Night

July 20, 2017 at 3:31 pm (Art, Arts, Mystery, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , )

The great South African artist SAREJESS was dreaming another dream.

He dreamed he was in an ancient Egyptian Pharaoh’s palace on the River Nile.

He walked outside the 2nd floor of the palace on to the veranda overlooking the garden.

It was nighttime.

And a bright full moon was overhead in the clear night sky over the surrounding desert.

SAREJESS looked down at a sundial on the veranda.

He noticed the full moon was casting its shadow on the sundial.

Telling the time at night.

What an unusual night this was, SAREJESS thought to himself.

Then he awakened.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday July 20th
2017.

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South African Artist SAREJESS and The Sands of Time

July 19, 2017 at 2:59 pm (Art, Arts, Folklore, Ghost Story, Mystery, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, )

South African Artist SAREJESS and The Sands of Time

The great South African artist SAREJESS was dreaming.

He was dreaming he was walking along a very sandy beach.

On the beach was a huge hourglass.

The hourglass looked to be ancient.

The sands had run out.

The upper glass bulb of the hourglass was empty.

While the lower bulb beneath the hourglass’ narrow neck was full of sand.

A huge wave suddenly came in towards the shore and surrounded the hourglass.

Mermaids leapt forth from the waves.

They turned the hourglass over.

So once again the sands of time were flowing through the hourglass.

The waves retreated and the alluringly beautiful mermaids went with them.

And the hourglass was once again on the sandy beach.

For the beach was now completely dry again despite having been hit by the waves carrying the magical mermaids.

And sand flowed down from the upper glass tube (that moments before had been the lower glass tube) through the hourglass’ narrow neck into the new lower glass tube (that prior to the sudden advent of wave and mermaid had been the upper glass tube).

A voice spoke to SAREJESS from beyond the ocean, “Behold the sands of time are flowing once more.”

Then SAREJESS woke up.

He ran to his studio.

This scene he felt compelled to paint. 🎨

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday June 18th
2017.

To buy a genuine authentic oil painting by the great South African artist SAREJESS for yourself, please visit http://www.sarejess.co.za/

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Wonder Woman: A Poem

July 16, 2017 at 6:28 pm (Arts, Comic Books, Culture, Entertainment, Film, Movies, Poetry) (, , , )

Wonder Woman: A Poem

A woman of mysterious origin
finds herself in world of war and sin
she lived most of her life in an island paradise
soon finds herself in a world of deception and lies
Her isle and time intertwine
War has come to destroy peace sublime

She finds herself in London in the midst of the Great War
and soon in France amidst much blood and gore
But is it Ares who has led man astray?
Or when the light in men’s hearts succumbs to darkness’ way?

-A poem written
by Christopher
Sunday July 16th
2017
(inspired by seeing the new Wonder Woman movie with Gal Gadot today)

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South African Artist SAREJESS and The Flying Dutchman

July 12, 2017 at 7:32 pm (Art, Arts, Folklore, Ghost Story, Mystery, Mystery/horror, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , )

South African Artist SAREJESS and The Flying Dutchman

The great South African artist SAREJESS looked at the oil painting of the old Grandfather Clock with Egyptian markings he felt compelled to paint a few nights earlier.

What he wondered did this painting mean?

SAREJESS felt inclined to cover the canvas of the painting with a sheet.

For inwardly, he somehow felt that the world was not ready to gaze at the painting just yet.

Even looking at the painting itself gave SAREJESS a sense of foreboding.

He felt like he was in an episode of The Twilight Zone whenever he looked at it.

Just like he felt that he was in an episode of Rod Serling’s Night Gallery when he painted it.

SAREJESS left his studio and walked down to the beach near the town of Port Elizabeth where he lived.

He breathed the winter air (for it is currently the season of winter down in South Africa) and gazed up at the winterly night sky.

He thought he saw a shooting star up in the sky.

Except for one thing.

Although it looked like a shooting star (a star with a long fiery tail on it as it shoots down from space towards the earth), it didn’t move across the night sky with the usual speed of a shooting star.

In fact, it was moving quite slowly.

And then suddenly the object just vanished.

A strange phenomenon for which SAREJESS had no explanation.

He looked out towards the Indian Ocean and noticed a strange mist arising up from the wintery salt waters.

Then it looked like a flickering light was moving through the mist.

Moments later, the ghostly outline of a very old antiquated sailing ship appeared out of the fog.

SAREJESS immediately recognized the vessel.

For he had seen it once before.

The vessel was the Flying Dutchman.

Although SAREJESS had only told a select small group of friends that he had once seen the Flying Dutchman.

For he didn’t want people to think that he was crazy.

Although now that he was considered an up and coming artist on the South African art scene, often craziness and being an artist went together.

“SAREJESS,” a booming voice echoed at him from a figure behind the steering wheel on the deck of the ghost ship.

SAREJESS looked in the direction of the voice.

“SAREJESS, an entity shall be entering through a portal very shortly,” said the booming voice.

“Entity? What entity?” SAREJESS asked.

But the ship had vanished into the mists from which it came.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday July 12th
2017.

To view the paintings of the great South African artist SAREJESS for yourself, please go to
http://www.sarejess.co.za

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