Qonzilqointec On 70th Anniversary of Roswell UFO Crash

July 7, 2017 at 6:50 pm (Commentary, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, International Intrigue, News, Politics, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

Qonzilqointec On 70th Anniversary of Roswell UFO Crash

French UFO researcher Jacques Vallee was sipping cognac and reflecting on how it was 70 years ago today that a UFO flying saucer was said to have crashed on a ranch near the town of Roswell New Mexico.

Later the crashed vehicle was said to be just a downed weather balloon.

Although others had speculated that the crashed vehicle was a self-conscious self-aware Hoover vacuum cleaner that had a premonitory vision of the message implied in Richard Bach’s 1970s bestseller Jonathan Livingston Seagull.

Vallee didn’t know what to think about the incident.

ET better phone the nearest American Automobile Association Auto Club, was that what happened ? Vallee wondered.

His housekeeper entered the room to tell Vallee about two phone calls for him.

Mikhail Gorbachev was on Line 1 and Pope Francis was on Line 2.

. . .

Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau was currently attending the G-20 Summit in Hamburg Germany.

As he munched on his Hamburg hamburger alongside German Chancellor Angela Merkel, he reflected on the huge gaffe he had made in Ottawa at last weekend’s Canada Day 150th Anniversary.

He had mentioned every province and territory in Canada in his Canada Day speech except the province of Alberta (the home of famous Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing).

When he left the stage and was informed of his gaffe, he came back and said, “I love you, Alberta” and blew a kiss at the TV cameras causing a wide-eyed teen-aged girl in the crowd (whose name was Alberta) to swoon and faint.

Trudeau’s failure to mention Alberta had angered some Albertans who still remembered Justin’s father Pierre Elliot Trudeau’s energy wars of the 1970s and early 1980s with then Alberta Premier Peter Lougheed over control of the province’s oil and natural gas resources.

Pierre Trudeau’s National Energy Program (NEP) had siphoned billions of dollars from Alberta’s provincial coffers into his own federal government’s treasury.

After bringing in the NEP and figuratively giving Albertans the finger, Pierre Trudeau then literally gave Albertans the finger while crossing through the Province’s Rocky Mountains by train.

Justin Trudeau’s neglect in mentioning Alberta by name at the Canada 150 celebrations in the Canadian nation’s capital of Ottawa struck some Albertans as the son’s equivalent of the father’s giving them the finger.

But really, Justin reflected, it was an accident.

An accident caused by the ET gray from Nibiru named Gali-Gula making funny faces at him while he was speaking.

Justin had promised to legalize marijuana during the 2015 Canadian federal election campaign- a promise which won him numerous seats in British Columbia’s Lower Mainland.

After winning the election, Justin started his own personal one man investigation into the after effects of smoking marijuana.

And whenever he smoked pot, those were the only times that Gali-Gula (the ET gray from Nibiru whose body was possessed by the ghost of the late earthling ancient Roman Emperor Caligula) appeared to him.

Justin had resolved not to smoke any pot ahead of the Canada 150 celebrations.

That way he wouldn’t be seeing Gali-Gula and he also wouldn’t anger the crowd by eating up all the hot dogs at the hot dog stand when he got the munchies.

The trouble was when he got up on the stage, some in the crowd were celebrating Canada’s 150th birthday by smoking pot themselves and Justin had the misfortune of inhaling much of the smoke.

So then Gali-Gula appeared to him just as he was about to mention Alberta by name.

Gali-Gula stuck two fingers in both his ears and then stuck his tongue out making a funny face at the Canadian Prime Minister.

This action on the ET gray’s part totally discombobulated Justin and he forgot to mention Alberta.

Later when Justin came back and said, “I love you, Alberta”, Gali-Gula decided to fly to Alberta and land on the UFO Flying Saucer landing pad in the town of Saint Paul, Alberta built in Canada’s centennial year of 1967.

Gali-Gula’s UFO driving narrowly missed making an omelette out of the world’s largest Ukrainian coloured Easter egg near the town of Vegreville, Alberta and narrowly missed making shredded duck out of the statue of the world’s largest duck outside the town of Andrew, Alberta.

“So,” Chancellor Angela said to Prime Minister Justin over his hamburger rousing him from his thoughts, “I said to Donald, either pee or get off the pot.”

. . .

The Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec walked the streets of Roswell New Mexico.

She wore a black dress in mourning for the lives lost at Roswell 70 years ago.

Her Samsung mobile phone rang.

She answered.

It was Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing phoning.

They chatted.

Suddenly Qonzilqointec could hear the sounds of gunfire coming from the other end of the phone.

“Dracul, what’s happening?” Qonzilqointec asked.

“Some assassins tried to shoot me,” Dracul answered, “but I shot and killed them first with my Uzi sub machine gun that was given to me as a gift by the host of the Israeli reality TV series Battle of The Rabbis: Orthodox vs. Reformed vs. Conservative vs. Golda’s Uncle’s Lox and Cream Cheese Bagel Worshiping Cult.”

“Who were the assassins?” Qonzilqointec asked, “Agents sent by an evil Transylvanian baron from his lair in the Carpathians?”.

“No,” Dracul replied, “They were operatives from the CPL.”

“CPL?” Qonzilqointec queried.

“The Calgary Public Library,” Dracul answered, “They claimed I forgot to return a book. But it wasn’t true. The only book I ever borrowed from them was an Archie comic book graphic novel called Afterlife With Archie about Jughead Jones leading a zombie apocalypse attack on the community of Riverdale. But I returned it. I even have a receipt slip showing that I did. But Calgary Public Library operatives’ instructions are to shoot first and ask questions later.”

“I see,” Qonzilqointec sighed sadly.

“So you’re at Roswell eh?” Dracul asked.

“Yes,” Qonzilqointec nodded, “wondering what happened here 70 years ago?”.

“Maybe some poor snook ET gray forgot to return a book to the Calgary Public Library so CPL operatives fired a surface-to-air missile that hit his craft just above Roswell New Mexico,” Dracul speculated.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday July 7th 2017.

Qonziqointec In Mourning For Roswell Crash Victims
The Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec in mourning for the victims of the Roswell crash.

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Orwell’s 1984 Has Arrived In 2017

June 27, 2017 at 3:41 pm (Commentary, Culture, Literature, Personal essays) (, , , , )

I’m currently sitting here in a coffee shop with free wi-fi having borrowed an honest looking stranger’s laptop to use for a while.

Hopefully he is honest and this laptop won’t remember my passwords.

I don’t know if he believed my story but I think to his shock he did.

Because the way I talked, I think he realized my story did have the ring of truth to it even though what happened to me 24 hours ago feels (and will probably read to you the reader) like a dystopian sci-fi novel.

Judging from his expression, I don’t think he thinks I’m a crazy person either.

He seems to be thinking “What the Hell sort of world are we now living in?” judging from the expression on his face.

Since I’m borrowing a stranger’s laptop, I don’t know if I’ll be able to finish this blog post today (I’m starting it just after 2:30 PM Mountain Daylight Time June 25th 2017) as he may have elsewhere to go in the next hour or so.

But I’m writing this blog post in the form of an email to myself which I will then save as a draft if I don’t finish it before the gentleman wants to leave.

The long and short of it is I can no longer use the computers in the Calgary Public Library- my only source for being able to use computers as I do not own a computer nor do I no longer have a smart phone (as it was stolen from me back in January).

The past couple of months as I’ve been writing, I’ve noticed I’ve attracted an incredible amount of new readers.

Since I don’t really like talking about myself much (I’ve always been an introvert), I spend most of my time at this blog Dracul Van Helsing writing the chapters in my on-line vampire novel, writing short stories or writing poems or haikus (as all my long time readers can probably attest to).

Only when something traumatic happens like not being able to find a job after months of searching, being evicted from my apartment, winding up in a homeless shelter or having my smart phone stolen off me while I slept on a mat in a homeless shelter and then what happened yesterday (which my mind still has trouble adjusting to- I feel like I’ve fallen asleep and can’t wake up- that somehow I’m trapped in the middle of a dystopian sci-f film about an Orwellian future).

Most of my new readers (who have joined my blog the past couple of months) would probably be shocked to realize that I am homeless and jobless. (that’s why I’ve had to use the computers in the Calgary Public Library to do my writing).

I’m currently living in a transitional housing facility for single homeless men (which is a step above a homeless shelter) and getting my rent paid for by a disability income supplement I’m now on through Alberta Social Services.

I don’t drink or smoke or take drugs (and that’s been the case all my life).

How I wound up jobless and homeless is a very long story.

But for those who’d like to know my background of how I’ve wound up in this predicament, please read the following past blog posts where I’ve explained what’s happened to me in the past:

https://draculvanhelsing.wordpress.com/2015/11/17/please-email-vancouvers-mayor/

https://draculvanhelsing.wordpress.com/2016/07/27/im-in-a-homeless-shelter/

https://draculvanhelsing.wordpress.com/2017/01/04/theft-in-a-homeless-shelter/

https://draculvanhelsing.wordpress.com/2017/02/17/homeless-and-suicidal-in-calgary/

(Please note that the bank account behind my GoFundMe page that I mention in some of those blog posts is no longer operational since that bank account has now been shut down plus I no longer own an apartment to pay rent to).

I hope some of my readers will take the time to read those blog posts.

To help them realize that all homeless people cannot be painted all with one brush.

I think the number of new readers I have who enjoy my writing would probably be shocked to know that I am homeless and jobless.

Well I’m now telling them.

I’m Christopher who writes vampire novel chapters and poems and short stories and haikus here in this blog post which I sign off at the end of each blog post saying written by Christopher and I then give the date on which I wrote it.

One of my new readers Aak fictionspawn has a friend and fellow blogger who wrote a short story called The Shoemaker Who Made Wooden Toys. I forget her name -the woman who wrote the story- but I strongly identify with her character.

Like the character in that story I’m just brimming with new ideas and insights but a world whose sole concern is with business and making money in the usual time honoured manner (no wanting to accept or hire people who think outside the box even though the great Steve Jobs of Apple started out as a man who thought outside the box), I don’t fit into this current world.

And that’s why I’m jobless and homeless.

Although someone somewhere has obviously taken note of my writing and doesn’t like what I’m writing and furthermore sees me as a threat to what they’re doing.

And that’s the reason why I can no longer use computers in the Calgary Public Library system.

And now we’ll get to the main point of this particular blog post:

First off, I’ll start out by saying that I do believe in God.

At one time, I wouldn’t have thought that people who believe in God would ever seriously contemplate suicide.

But after the sheer Hell I’ve been through the past 7 years since my dad died from cancer (the Hell I’ve described in the blog posts I posted above there), I’m sad to say that there have been several times the past 7 years where I’ve seriously contemplated suicide.

This may be due to the severe clinical depression I was diagnosed with by a doctor when I arrived in Calgary last July from Vancouver.

A clinical depression brought on by the PTSD she says I experienced after my dad died and then suddenly finding myself in a legal battle with my sister over his estate. That PTSD of course remained undiagnosed and untreated for years leading to the severe condition that my depression is in today.

Bearing that in mind with my belief in God, I’ve had this strong overwhelming urge to write and continue writing since last November.

When I got an eviction notice from the town house I was living in last December and spent a lot of time away from my writing to search for a new place to live (which I didn’t find since Christmas and the pre-Christmas season isn’t exactly an ideal time to search for new accommodation) and finally ended up again in a homeless shelter on January 1st New Year’s Day this year where my iPhone was then stolen off of me in that same shelter back on January 3rd.

So without an iPhone where I could do my writing using the free wi-fi in coffee shops, I was then forced to do all my writing using the computers in the Calgary Public Library.

I’ve not been able to afford a new smartphone and I definitely can’t afford a new computer (be it tablet, laptop or PC) since I have to use my disability income allowance (which is only about $750 a month) to pay for rent and food.

And of course one could only use the computers in the Calgary Public Library for a maximum of 2 hours a day (although that has now been increased to 3 hours in the summer when many people are no longer indoors using the computers but unfortunately I can no longer do that).

A friend and fellow blogger Daniel (a former employee of DARPA in the U.S.) once told me in reference to my writing that probably a lot of intelligence agencies throughout the world would be or are interested in my writing since Daniel says that even though I write fiction, I often show very astute geopolitical analysis in my writing and can often predict some major geopolitical events before they happen.

This can often happen in the medium of writing.

For example the 1898 novella The Wreck of The Titan by Morgan Robertson was about an ocean liner called The Titan which sinks in the North Atlantic after striking an iceberg. The Titan and its sinking was very similar to the sinking of the real life passenger ship RMS Titanic which sank 14 years later in 1912.

Both Titan and Titanic sank in the month of April in the North Atlantic and there were not enough lifeboats for all the passengers. The Titan was 800 ft. long and the Titanic was 882 ft. long. The speed of the Titan was 25 knots and the speed of the Titanic was 22.5 knots.

Both were triple screw propeller ships. Both were described as “unsinkable”. The Titan was 45,000 tons and the Titanic was 46,000 tons.

Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World has been described as a prophetic novel.

And as the title of my blog post suggests, George Orwell’s 1984 has seemed to arrive in the year 2017.

Although what happened to me yesterday (Saturday June 24th 2017) might better be seen as a combination of Orwell’s 1984 meets Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451. Although instead of burning and banning books, certain individuals are now prohibited from using the computers in the public library.

In terms of my own writing, I was shocked when I read the manuscript for my 1st vampire novel The Vampiress With Amnesia (which I wrote between April 2009 and July 2010) last year. The novel is now available for sale on Amazon.

Since I do not know how to convert text to a PDF format (which is required for upload to Amazon), my friend and fellow blogger Daniel (the former DARPA employee) did it for me.

He then emailed me the entire PDF manuscript to look over and check for corrections.

Which I did early last year (2016).

I of course had not read that novel in 6 years.

I was shocked to discover back in 2010 to see that I had written a chapter about a group of cardinals plotting to force Pope Benedict XVI to abdicate the Papacy. I even described the methods they would use to do it. And how the German magazine Der Spiegel and the U.S. newsmagazine TIME would be used for their purposes.

Because at the time I re-read my novel, there were stories starting to break in the news media about how that is exactly what happened with the papal resignation of Pope Benedict XVI.

(And that was a cliffhanger about Pope Benedict XVI because I had to stop writing and save this blog post as an email draft at that point because the gentleman whose laptop I was using finally had to leave. Today Monday June 25th 217, I found another honest looking person with a laptop and a mouse (because I only know how to use a laptop with a mouse. I don’t know how to use a laptop without a mouse) and I’m currently using their laptop to continue writing this post which I’m starting just past 3 PM Mountain Standard Time).

Journalists such as Antonio Socci and others discovered the existence of a group of Cardinals called the Saint Gallen Group who did in fact force the resignation of Pope Benedict XVI and promote the election of Pope Francis.

Bearing that in mind, I’ve often wondered whether something I’m currently writing is unbeknownst to me foretelling another certain geopolitical trend that someone very powerful wants kept quiet.

At first I thought this was just my own imagination running wild.

Brought on by the fact that a couple of months ago, the computers in the branch of the public library where I did most of my writing started getting hit en masse by viruses and hackers.

One day when I went there, there were signs put up on over 1/3 of the computers saying Not Available For Service.

I overheard one of the librarians remarking to a library patron that this was strange because none of the other branches in the Calgary Public Library system seemed to be undergoing the massive computer problems that this branch was undergoing.

So in my imagination (brought on by the occasional teasing I get from my friend Daniel and another friend Timothy who lives in South Africa that intelligence services across the world are profoundly disturbed by what I write), I thought that maybe the reason was someone powerful didn’t like what I was writing and so was targeting the computers in the Public Library branch where I do most of my writing.

But I didn’t really take it seriously.

I just used it as an imaginative fancy brought on by the pair of Robert Ludlum novels that I was reading at the time.

But that all changed last Saturday June 24th at around 4:30 PM just as I was about to post my vampire novel chapter entitled Belvedere Discovers His Enchantress.

I was in my WordPress editing function at the time.

I had just copied and pasted my vampire novel chapter from my email to my WordPress dashboard of posts.

I had just finished selecting the categories and my tags for my post and was about to copy and paste the URL for the photo I was using for the chapter when these two librarians with very sinister looking expressions on their faces walked up to me.

Said the female librarian with a Russian accent (and no I’m not making this up- she did have a Russian accent- by the time the conversation was finished- I was imagining she was probably one of Vladimir Putin’s most evil FSB agents), “We couldn’t help but notice that you’ve been sitting at this computer all afternoon.”

I didn’t know that it was a crime to sit at a public library computer all afternoon but maybe it is in this Orwellian world that’s starting to emerge in 2017.

“What time did you get here?” Russian Gestapo Girl asked me.

“2:00,” I said.

What business was it of theirs, what time I got there, I don’t know.

“We have had concerns expressed to us about the blog you’re writing on our computers,” said the middle-aged librarian with glasses and moustache who looked like the head of the most evil Black Ops operation within the American CIA.

“Blog? How do you know that I’m writing a blog? Are you monitoring what people are doing on their computers here?” I asked.

“We’re not at liberty to say,” Big Brother’s Little Brother answered.

“May I see your library card?” Russian Gestapo Girl asked me. (No doubt back in the USSR, she said to people, “Your papers please.”)

I handed her my library card whereupon she promptly pounced on it and grabbed it and said, “I’m canceling this card and blocking you from using our public library computers.”

“What? What for? For what reason?” I demanded to know.

“We have had concerns expressed to us by many about the blog you’re writing,” said the Russian FSB librarian.

“Who is expressing these concerns? And what are their specific concerns?” I asked.

“We’re not at liberty to say,” Big Brother’s Little Brother expressed the same brainless mantra over again.

“Shut down your computer,” the Gestapo bitch then directed.

“Let me finish posting this blog post first,” I said.

“No, people have expressed concerns about the blog you’re writing,” Gestapo Bitch was starting to turn that line into her personal mantra.

“And of course you’re not at liberty to say?” I said looking at Big Brother’s Little Brother who had such an intense look of stupidity on his face that one could almost take it for a strange form of beauty.

“That is correct,” he said sounding exactly like a robot talking.

“Are you going to shut this computer down?” Gestapo Bitch demanded to know.

“No!” I said looking directly at her.

Both Russian Gestapo Girl and Big Brother’s Little Brother stood there with stupefied stupid looking expressions on their faces.

Then they walked away.

No doubt off to call the cops to report me for defending freedom and liberty in Canada when of course enlightened people such as themselves knew that for the good of everyone, Canada should really be part of the Orwellian Brave New World New World Order.

I don’t know who or what didn’t like the blog I was writing.

What were their concerns?

Was I promoting terrorism?

Of course not.

I’m against terrorism whether it’s of the ISIS variety or of the neo-Nazi or Klu Klux Klan variety or of any variety.

Do I promote pornography?

Of course not.

Unless of course they consider posting photos of beautiful women (who are among the many loves of my characters Dracul Van Helsing and Renfield R. Renfield) pornography.

If that’s the case, then they’re very much like the group of women who called themselves The Anti-Sex League in George Orwell’s novel 1984.

So now I’ve finished writing this blog post.

And now I’ll have to edit it.

But the person whose laptop this is now has to leave.

So I’ll hopefully be able to edit this tomorrow.

And get it posted tomorrow.

To my readers, this may be the last blog post of mine you’ll be able to read for awhile.

Because I can no longer use the computers in the public library.

And I can’t keep borrowing laptops from people in coffee shops no matter how honest they look- because chances are I’d probably run into somebody eventually who would keep track of the passwords I’d use.

And I can’t afford to buy a new smartphone or tablet or laptop or PC of my own.

There is a program in Calgary called CLIC (Computers For Low-Income Calgarians).

What the program does is if anybody has a working smartphone or tablet or laptop or PC that they no longer use (because they’ve probably upgraded to a new one), they can then donate those to this program and CLIC will then give the smartphone or tablet or laptop or PC to a low-income Calgarian who can’t afford to buy one of their own.

I was told this by my social worker a couple of months ago.

The program has about a 6 month waiting list she said.

So I applied right after I was told.

That was 2 months ago.

So technically I have another 4 months to wait.

Of course if the waiting list at the time I applied was then even more than 6 months, I’ll have even longer to wait.

To be quite frank, I don’t know if I can wait that long.

The biggest antidote to combating my PTSD inspired depression I’ve found has been my writing.

My writing and my immediately posting it to a blog so I can judge reaction to my writing.

Judging from the number of Likes I get on my Blog posts each day and the number of new followers and new readers I get each day, I realize that my blog is making an impact.

It’s my writing and my blogging that seems to give me meaning and purpose in life.

If I don’t feel I have any meaning or purpose in my life, I don’t see how I’ll be able to successfully overcome my depression.

When my dad was dying from cancer, he made me promise on his deathbed that I would continue my writing (which I did).

“Continue your writing, Christopher,” he told me, “your writing is extremely important to the world and I really mean that. So continue writing, Christopher. Always continue writing. You may not realize how important your writing is but I do. Always continue writing.”

So that’s what I’ve done.

And in the past 7 years since he died, it’s been my writing and my blogging which has given me the greatest sense of relief from my despair and the greatest sense of meaning and purpose in life.

Now my avenues for that writing and blogging have slowly been erased away.

I was forced to abandon my PC and my laptop (with a mouse) in my Vancouver apartment when I was evicted because I couldn’t fit them into my small suitcases.

My smartphone was stolen off me while I slept on the mat in a homeless shelter this past January.

And now I’ve been blocked from using the computers in the Calgary Public Library because Person or Persons Unknown have concerns about the blog I’m writing..

What person or persons unknown?

The U.S. National Security Agency?

Britain’s MI-6?

Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau? (Because I’ve written vampire novel chapters where I have an ET gray from the planet Nibiru called Gali-Gula (who’s possessed by the spirit of the late Roman Emperor Caligula) appear to him and give him advice whenever he’s smoking marijuana?).

Is what I considered fictional in that case reality?

Or maybe it’s Hillary Clinton?

Hillary: Bill, what’s that blog you keep reading all the time?

Bill: You mean Dracul Van Helsing?

The next day:

Hillary: Bill, is the reason you keep reading that blog is because you enjoy looking at all those photos of beautiful women in alluring outfits who are among the many loves of the characters Dracul Van Helsing, Renfield R. Renfield and the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set?

Bill: Of course not. I read the blog to get Christopher’s insightful geopolitical analysis into the current world situation.

Hillary: The same as the time when I found all those Playboy magazines in your desk shortly after you were first elected Governor of Arkansas and you told me that you had just bought them to read the articles?

Bill (grinning): Exactly.

I do not know what are the reasons or who objected to my blog.

But it was someone powerful enough to get the Calgary Public Library system to ban me from using their computers.

My dad thought my writing would someday have impact on the world.

And I guess he was right.

Who would have thought writing a series of novels where I combine vampire legends and ghost stories with Greek and Norse and Egyptian mythology thrown together with current geopolitical happenings would get me banned?

But I guess it did.

And yet somehow I think my father would be pleased.

He’d say, “You’ve upset the right people, Christopher. You’ve upset the right people. And you’ve got the right people for your readers and blog followers.”

-A personal essay written by Christopher
June 25th, June 26th and June 27th
2017.

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Have You Seen Jessica Urbano? A Poem

June 21, 2017 at 5:45 pm (Commentary, News, Poetry) (, , , , )

Josef Stalin was alleged to have said, The death of one is a tragedy, the death of millions is a statistic
Words uttered by someone who ought to know
So the Grenfell Tower fire we are told was a major fire
at a 24-storey 220 foot (70 metre) high tower of public housing flats
in North Kensington, west London which started on 14th June 2017
resulting in a high number of casualties and severe damage to the building
Such do the gods at Wikipedia tell us
As of this date 5 fatalities have been identified
and a further 74 people are presumed missing
bringing the presumed number of fatalities to 79
the deadliest fire in mainland Britain in over 100 years-
statistics, statistics, statistics,
so let me ask you this?
Have you seen Jessica Urbano?
Jessica Urbano

Jessica Urbano was a schoolgirl on the 20th floor of the Tower
when she was separated from her family.
She last spoke to her mom when she borrowed a phone and said
that she was on the stairs with other people.
She was never seen again
although some people thought they had seen her being put into the back of an ambulance
all unconfirmed.

So I ask you,
Have you seen Jessica Urbano?

Studio E. Architects who oversaw the 8,7 million British pound refurbishment of Grenfell Tower, have you seen Jessica Urbano?
Rydon Ltd. of Forest Row, East Sussex who undertook the refurbishment, have you seen Jessica Urbano?
Artelia who administered the contracts, have you seen Jessica Urbano?
Max Fordham- specialist mechanical and electrical consultants, have you seen Jessica Urbano?
All those who were responsible for putting in the new aluminum composite rainscreen cladding to improve the appearance of the building on the outside (now believed to have been responsible for rapidly spreading the fire from floor to floor), have you seen Jessica Urbano?
All those who neglected to put in smoke detectors and sprinkler systems into the building, have you seen Jessica Urbano?

All those rich people in the borough of Kensington and Chelsea who complained about the outside appearance of Grenfell Tower as an eyesore (leading to the 8.7 million British pound refurbishment on the outside), have you seen Jessica Urbano?
Or are your eyes still sore?

British Prime Minister Theresa May, when you visited Grenfell Tower on June 16th but were in too much of a rush to actually stop and speak to the residents who lived there, have you seen Jessica Urbano?
Did you ever stop to look if Jessica Urbano was there when your limo sped away?

Jessica Urbano represents the face of the faceless in every tragedy
Jessica Urbano is the voice of the voiceless in every tragedy
In tragedy, we tend to remember the names of the perpetrators
but never the names of any of the victims
because usually the perpetrators are few
and the victims are many
The victims are… statistics.

So the next time you hear the Grenfell Tower story on the news,
will you see Jessica Urbano?
(If only in your mind’s eye?)
The next time you encounter tragedy on TV, in newspapers or on the Net?
Will you think of Jessica Urbano?
And all those like her… single, unique, who want to be able to live the rest of their lives…people like you and me… people struck by tragedy… and are then forgotten…
because they are one of many.

So the next time tragedy strikes, please see Jessica Urbano
And if you’re doing a job where ultimately people’s lives are at stake,
please see Jessica Urbano.

-A poem written by Christopher
Wednesday June 21st
2017.

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The Summer of Hate

June 21, 2017 at 1:45 pm (Commentary, Culture, Geopolitics and International Relations, News) (, )

I was thinking earlier today about that historical phenomenon in U.S. history called the Summer of Love- which happened 50 years ago this summer back in 1967 when a whole bunch of flower children and hippies flocked en masse to San Francisco and everyone was convinced that a new golden age they called the Age of Aquarius was just around the corner.
I was then thinking how this Summer of 2017 might turn into the Summer of Hate given all the recent incidents this year of people attacking, maiming and killing other people because they didn’t belong to the same religion, race or political belief system as the attacker.
Then I get on Facebook and remember that today June 21st is the start of summer.
And then I ask myself, is the Summer of Hate just getting started?

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Renfield Elected MP By A Landslide

June 9, 2017 at 4:41 pm (Commentary, Geopolitics and International Relations, News, Politics, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , , )

Renfield R. Renfield representing the British Transhumanist Techno-Progressive Anti-Bio Conservative Party has won his constituency of Tewkesbury In The Cotswolds by a landslide defeating his closest opponent sitting incumbent British Conservative MP Agamemnon Thor Christie (often called Agathor Christie for short) by over 17,000 votes.

Most commentators and political analysts agree that it was Renfield’s Tuesday June 6th 2017 attack on an ISIS training camp in Libya earlier this week in which Renfield had illegally sent members of the British Brigade of Gurkhas in and tied explosives to the ISIS members’ tiny testicles that were then blown up after Renfield had appeared to them in holographic form and recited one of the numerous witty poems he’s famed for writing (See https://draculvanhelsing.wordpress.com/2017/06/06/renfields-attack-on-isis-camp-in-libya/ )

It was this raid that caught the imagination of the British public (and the condemnation by the country’s politically correct elites) in the wake of the Manchester and London terrorist attacks which led to Renfield’s landslide victory in his Tewkesbury In The Cotswolds Constituency says Manchester University political science professor Churchill Thatcher.

Nonsense, say the membership of the Tewkesbury Sex Addicts and Nymphomaniacs Association, it was Renfield’s call for “greater sexual intercourse among Britons” that led to his overwhelming victory.

On the evening of Wednesday June 7th earlier this week, British Prime Minister Theresa May was wanting Renfield R. Renfield charged with high treason for his unauthorized use of the British Brigade of Gurkhas in his own personal not officially sanctioned raid on an ISIS training camp (Mrs. May now presides over a hung parliament and a minority government).

The high treason charge was immediately vetoed by Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II after Renfield had jumped in and saved one of her beloved Pembroke Welsh corgis from drowning in a swimming pool…”

“It’s a good thing,” Renfield grinned while reading the Manchester Guardian article on his landslide election victory, “that no one and especially the Queen noticed that I was the one who pushed the corgi in the swimming pool in the first place so I could earn the Queen’s unending gratitude by diving in and rescuing it.”

Renfield went back to reading the article…

Renfield will be having a fellow Transhumanist joining him in Parliament.

Welsh songstress Morgana Fay Lee (who some people claim is an ancient vampiress and the alleged niece of the sorceress Morgan Le Fay of Arthurian fame) defeated sitting incumbent Labour MP Magog Rhys Petley (who some people claim is a werewolf) by over 300 votes in the constituency of Newbridge in Wales.

Renfield R. Renfield and the Welsh Vampiress Morgana will be taking their seats as Transhumanist MPs in the Westminster Parliament sometime in the next few weeks…

“Wow,” the South African cultural attache Lepardia Marango thought to herself as she read the Manchester Guardian article, “I dated both Labour MP Magog Rhys Petley and Conservative MP Agathor Christie in the past and now both have been defeated by British Transhumanist candidates.”

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday June 9th
2017.

Lepardia Marango
Lepardia Marango: Did her dating of two British MPs cause the election of two Transhumanists to the UK Parliament?

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Renfield At London’s Heathrow Airport

April 12, 2017 at 3:30 pm (Commentary, Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, News, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , )

Renfield R. Renfield the Chief of Security and Intelligence Gathering for Set Enterprises was waiting in line at London’s Heathrow Airport to check in for his flight.

Renfield was en route to Caracas Venezuela where he was to meet with the Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec and put the finishing touches on a plot to overthrow the government of Venezuelan President Nicolas Maduro.

Qonzilqointec’s spiritual godfather the Aztec feathered serpent god Quetzalcoatl had said that he was willing to leave his beloved Mexico for a few months and serve as Venezuela’s interim President until such time as new elections were called.

As Renfield looked out the window of the airport lounge, he noticed a bunch of bloodied, bruised and injured passengers lying outside on the airport tarmac.

“Good God,” he said to a lounge hostess, “has a terrorist attack just occurred at Heathrow?”.

“Oh no, sir,” the lounge hostess shook her head, “nothing like that. United Airlines overbooked one of its flights again. And those people down there are passengers who refused to volunteer to give up their seats and had to be removed off the plane.”

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

United Airlines Passenger Assaulted
United Airlines: United we stand, divided we fall.

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Kendall Jenner Pepsi Ad Updated

April 8, 2017 at 3:37 pm (Commentary, Culture, Entertainment, News, Satire, TV Commercials, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , )

Renfield R. Renfield was asking Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster what type of Kendall Jenner Pepsi ad would have met the approval of America’s numerous idiots (of whom among the biggest are America’s current crop of late night talk show hosts).

Michelangelo transmitted the new commercial via computer imaging.

The ad showed Kendall Jenner walking up to a policeman and blowing his head off with a gun and then drinking a can of Pepsi in celebration.

The hashtag #PepsiGenius exploded across Twitter among any social media user with an IQ lower than a child’s shoe size.

And the reactions of America’s talk show hosts were immediate:

South African idiot Trevor Noah: Pure genius. That’s Pepsi.

Home-grown American idiot Stephen Colbert: Pepsi. Pure genius.

Another home-grown American idiot Jimmy Kimmel (secretly wishing that the part of the white cop in the commercial had been played by Matt Damon): Pepsi genius. Pure.

Amadeus Emanon looked at the commercial while drinking a Pepsi, “So that’s how Pepsi and Kendall Jenner can get back on top, huh?.”

“Yes,” said Renfield nodding and then he looked at the huge pile of American college rejection emails he had received in his computer inbox, “I applied to every prestigious ivy league university in America last week. I didn’t submit any grades or achievements. All I wrote was “Black lives matter”. And I still got rejected.”

“It might have helped if you had used a more Islamic sounding name on your application,” said Amadeus switching over to Coca-Cola.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Renfield reached for a brandy.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday April 8th
2017.

Kendall Jenner Pepsi Ad
Kendall Jenner: Walk softly. And always carry a gun with your can of Pepsi.

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Donald Trump, Trump’s History Teacher and Bashar Assad

April 7, 2017 at 4:52 pm (Commentary, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, International Espionage, International Intrigue, News, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , )

Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing was having lunch with the lovely attractive and highly intelligent CSIS agent Monica Dhaliwal at a pub in London.

Unbeknownst to the duo, the pub had been the scene of an attempted murder a few days earlier where the widow of a recently deceased City of London investor Donald Mahatma Ahmad Campbell Singh Khan had attempted to murder Set Enterprises’ resident mad scientist Dr. Cadbury Rocher after the widow had received a rather curtly put death notification via text message sent by one Renfield R. Renfield.

As Monica Dhaliwal adjusted her smartly stylish gray skirt, she asked the vampire hunter (who served as a consultant to Britain’s MI-6 Branch- The Diablos Nocturna Division) how he thought World War 3 would begin, Van Helsing replied, “Well roughly 3000 years ago, a fight between two men over a beautiful woman led to a major war- the Trojan War. Today, given the times we are living in, a Twitter tweet will probably cause the outbreak of World War 3.”

And speaking of Twitter tweets, Donald Trump was, at that moment, trying to figure out how to spell the word “Complicity” before sending out a Twitter tweet.

U.S. Secretary of State Rex Tillerson entered the room wearing a t-shirt with a picture of a T-Rex on it and the words T-REX emblazoned in red beneath the carnivorous dinosaur, “Mr. President, Vladimir Putin is quite pissed off by our missile strikes on Bashar al-Assad’s forces.”

“He was probably drinking too much vodka the night before,” Trump mused, “The same thing happens to me when I drink too much Coca-Cola. Or is it Pepsi that I drink? I can’t remember. I’ll have to remember to ask Ivanka.”

“Of course, our missile response was the only response possible to the use of chemical weapons against Idlib earlier this week,” Tillerson pointed out.

“Indeed it was,” Trump took out a comb and started combing his hair, “Indeed it was.”

“Not to forget,” a Trump aide pointed out, “The Syrian President made fun of your hair in one of his Twitter tweets on that same day.”

“That’s right,” Trump angrily threw his comb across the room knocking the book The Guns of August by Barbara W. Tuchman off the book shelf, “Nobody insults my hair and gets away with it. Nobody.”

“I heard, Mr. President, that you got a text message last night from your old high school History teacher who now lives in California,” said T-Rex Rex Tillerson.

“That’s right I did,” Trump smiled, “he told me that yesterday April 6th 2017 was the 100th Anniversary of America’s entry into World War I which coincidentally enough I discovered had occurred 100 years earlier on April 6th 1917.’

“I’m surprised your High School History teacher is still alive,” the aide looked shocked.

“So was I,” said Trump, “so I sent a CIA agent to investigate. That should be him now.”

CIA Agent Mordred Zimmerman entered the room.

“Well, Zimmerman, what have you got to report?” Trump gazed at the agent.

“Your high school History teacher is still apparently alive and well and currently living in San Francisco, Mr. President,” Zimmerman took out his note book and read.

“I wonder how that is possible that he’s still alive,” Trump scratched his head, “He was already in his early 60s when he taught me in High School.”

“Well, I regret to report, Mr. President, that your old High School History teacher is now a vampire,” Zimmerman pulled out a garlic sausage sandwich and started eating it.

“How is that possible?” Trump’s eyes darted around his office for signs of a Cross or Crucifix.

“He was apparently turned into a vampire by the Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec,” Zimmerman answered.

“See, this is another reason why we shouldn’t let Mexicans into this country,” Trump waved a finger at Rex Tillerson.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday April 7th
2017.

Vladimir Putin

A desperately in need of Exlax looking Russian leader Vladimir Putin issues a stern warning to Donald Trump over the U.S. missile strikes against the forces of Syrian President Bashar al-Assad.

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Justin Trudeau and Gali-Gula Discuss Bimbo Eruptions

April 6, 2017 at 6:22 pm (Commentary, Geopolitics and International Relations, Humour, News, Politics, Satire, Science-Fiction, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , )

Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau gave a long exhale.

“I wonder what the fun is in smoking this if you don’t inhale,” Justin Trudeau was recalling a peculiar statement that then Presidential candidate Bill Clinton had made back in the 1992 U.S. Presidential election.

“Hello, Prime Minister,” an unclothed and completely nude ET gray greeted him.

“Good God, Gali-Gula,” Justin choked on his joint, “why is it that I only see you when I’m smoking marijuana?”.

“I have no idea, Prime Minister,” Gali-Gula shrugged, “how have you been doing?”.

“Well, these days some people claim that I’m prone to making bimbo eruptions,” Justin remarked angrily.

“What’s a bimbo eruption?” asked Gali-Gula.

“It’s making an outrageously stupid statement and one that comes out of nowhere,” Justin said.

“I don’t think I’m familiar with bimbo eruptions,” Gali-Gula went to the refrigerator and helped himself to a can of Molson Canadian beer which he had first tried on his dominatrix whipped rear end a year ago.

Justin noticed for the first time that the nude ET gray had no genitalia.

“Say,” Justin asked, “is it easier to pee without genitalia?”.

“That’s an awfully stupid question,” the ET gray answered as he opened up the can of Molson Canadian and was immediately sprayed with foam.

“Sorry, I apologize,” the volcanically active bimbo eruptive Prime Minister apologized.

“I didn’t know you were prone to bimbo eruptions,” Gali-Gula drank the beer.

“Neither was I. I thought it was only something that blonde females were prone to,” said the self-proclaimed feminist Mr. Trudeau.

There was a knock at the door which immediately opened.

Gali-Gula dropped the beer and vanished.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you while you were having a one-man party, Prime Minister,” the aide noticed the spilled can of beer on the floor and the joint of pot in Trudeau’s hand, “but President Trump is on Line 1.”

Justin walked over to the phone and picked it up, “Hello, Mr. President?”.

Trump replied, “Hello Justin. Great talking to you. In lieu of what just happened in Syria, I wanted to ask you, what do you know about the after effects of using chemicals?”.

Justin Trudeau looked out the window with pot in hand and noticed a UFO spaceship flying away.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday April 5th
2017.

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The Elephant Woman

March 30, 2017 at 6:58 pm (Commentary, Horror, Short stories, Short Story) (, , , , )

Gertrude Grannick was no John Merrick. She wasn’t born with a debilitating disease. A debilitating disease of the body at any rate- possibly a debilitating disease of the soul. She chose to be able to turn into an elephant in a bizarre black magic ceremony.

Gertrude Grannick had always held a high opinion of herself. She was the only who did. She had no friends in high school because she was so conceited.

If she had been beautiful, she might have been able to take advantage of men and count them among her suitors. Some women might have chosen to become friends with her in the hopes her popularity might rub off on them.

But Gertrude Grannick was ugly. Quite repulsively so. Ugly and conceited. A strange combination to say nothing of an outrageously stupid one.

Gertrude Grannick went for a degree in Social Work. Not out of any genuine desire to help people. But in hopes that someday she’d win a Citizen of the Year Award.

Upon graduating, she landed a job with a city social services agency. And she fell in love with her supervisor. If such a person as Gertrude Grannick was capable of love.

It was more of an obsession rather than what might be properly called love. But her supervisor Ted Dowling did not love her. In fact an office romance was starting to develop between Ted Dowling and another social worker Madge Simmons.

As Ted and Madge had candlelight dinners around the city, Gertrude would go home to her apartment and order in delivery. Usually about a dozen pizzas, a dozen orders of chicken wings and a dozen Chinese combo dishes from Ho-Ho’s Chinese Food.

She ate so much that Gertrude Grannick was starting to look like an elephant even before she participated in the black magic ceremony.

Then there had come that day at the office when Ted Dowling and Madge Simmons announced they were getting married. Gertrude Grannick was so angry that she had broke the pencil sharpener (to say nothing of the photocopier, the printer and the coffee machine) – all actions for which her employment was terminated.

Gertrude Grannick stampeded down the street in a huff- causing numerous damage to passing motor vehicles to say nothing of laying the groundwork for future pot holes (which would lead to the lighting up of city hall complaint lines).

Gertrude Grannick used her termination pay and what little she had of her savings (for her monthly food bill was quite out of this world) to fly to Africa.

For she had heard of a witch doctor in Congo who had the power to turn men and women into elephant people – people who had the power to shapeshift into elephants and use the power of the elephant to cause damage and destruction.

Gertrude Grannick hired a group of guides to take her to the village in the Congo where the witch doctor lived.

All but one of her guides died of starvation on the expedition (due to her eating up all the supplies).

When she reached the village hut where the witch doctor was (who was busy text messaging Donald Trump about the possible uses of black magic in 21st Century warfare). Gertrude Grannick told him, “I wish to become an elephant woman.”

Although the witch doctor was tempted to say, “You already are”, he bit his tongue instead (for which he said “Ouch!” in his native tribal language) and proceeded to chant the spell that would turn her into a shapeshifting elephant woman.

Upon chanting the spell, he gave her an instruction manual called So Now You’re An Elephant Woman, What’s Next? which gave Gertrude Grannick detailed instructions on how to enjoy her new found power.

Upon returning home to North America (where she spent the entire flight bitching and complaining about having to pay for the cost of three seats), she returned to the city of her recent Social Services job termination whereupon she turned into an elephant and stampeded and destroyed the house that Mr. and Mrs. Ted Dowling had bought.

She landed a job as a Distress Line counselor where people who called into the Distress Line were generally worse off than they were before calling in.

Gertrude Grannick was let go from that job after Department heads noticed a huge spike in the number of suicides after calls to the distress line.

After stampeding and destroying her Distress Line supervisor’s house, Gertrude Grannick eventually found her true calling in life- which was to serve as a licensing clerk in a Department of Motor Vehicles branch.

The Elephant Woman Gertrude Grannick continued to follow the activities of Mr. and Mrs. Ted Dowling.

When Mrs. Dowling gave birth to her first child, Gertrude Grannick turned into an Elephant Woman and stampeded and stormed and stomped the maternity ward of the hospital where the child was born.

The Dowlings had already taken their child home but that did nothing to relieve the grief of the other parents whose babies were killed.

A similar attack happened at another maternity ward when the Dowlings’ second child was born a few years later.

And then again when the Dowlings’ third child was born a couple of years after that.

A big game hunter Theodore Roosevelt Matthews (distantly related to the big game hunting President of the early 20th Century United States- Teddy Roosevelt) was brought in to try to catch this mysterious elephant known for destroying homes and maternity wards across the city the past decade.

Teddy Roosevelt Matthews was approached by a psychic Nyssa Dhawan who told him that the destroying elephant was no natural creature but a preternatural Elephant Woman- a woman given the black magic supernatural ability to shapeshift into an elephant.

Nyssa gave Theo a medallion with the image of the Hindu god Ganesha on it for protection.

In the meantime, Theodore Roosevelt Matthews began setting elephant traps across the city.

The Mayor was advising everyone to stay home. As a lot of sports league play-offs were currently underway to say nothing of a new reality TV series showing a bunch of catty women fighting and backstabbing one another, the mayor’s stay home message was definitely easier done than said. Both husbands and wives stayed home watching television. And their kids were naturally playing violent video games or busy text messaging one another in their rooms.

The streets of the city were quiet except for the earthshaking footsteps of the Elephant Woman Gertrude Grannick and the stealthy prowling quiet steps of the hunter Teddy Roosevelt Matthews.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” Gertrude Grannick bellowed in a voice that would have made Anne Rice’s Vampire Lestat wince at such an example of notoriously bad overacting.

Theodore Roosevelt Matthews said nothing. He just quietly bided his time.

Suddenly there was a roar as Elephant Woman Gertrude Grannick stepped in an elephant trap.

Normally the trap would have been easy to spot but a department store had wisely placed an elephant sized mirror in a large window and the narcissistically conceited Gertrude Grannick had stopped to admire herself in the mirror not noticing the trap in front of her.

Gertrude Grannick bellowed like an elephant cow in pain (which is what she was).

She waddled several blocks on 3 legs until she caught sight of Theodore Roosevelt Matthews. She bellowed at him and charged.

Theo opened the door of the nearest building which happened to be a Hindu temple.

Theo ran up to the central altar.

Gertrude Grannick stampeded through the door knocking it down.

She saw Theodore Roosevelt Matthews standing at the altar and charged at him.

Matthews waited and then ducked out of the way at the proper moment clutching at the medallion that the psychic Nyssa Dhawan had given him.

The Elephant Woman Gertrude Grannick struck the altar with full force causing the giant bronze statue of Ganesha to come crashing down from the ceiling with full force on top of her.

Ganesha’s bronze tusks pierced Gertrude Grannick’s head causing it to be severed from her body.

The Elephant Woman was dead.

A good elephant had triumphed over an evil elephant.

And the city was once again safe.

The only place that carried reminders of her existence was the local Department of Motor Vehicles licensing branch.

-A tale of horror
written by Christopher
Thursday March 30th
2017.

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