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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Dashwood Forrest and Pan Goatee In Calgary

March 29, 2017 at 5:30 pm (Commentary, Culture, Folklore, Horror, Mythology, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , )

“What a place totally devoid of culture,” Dashwood Forrest the Oscar Wilde of the 21st Century said to his Undead butler and valet Mulligan the Irish zombie.

“I’d have to agree,” Mulligan the Irish zombie remarked. He had only spent less than 24 hours in the city and he was already forgetting how to recite Irish ballads and poetry.

“I imagine if one were looking for culture and learning in Calgary, one would probably only find it among certain people living in homeless shelters in a city such as this,” Dashwood Forrest sipped on his chocolate milkshake.

“I’d have to agree,” Mulligan the Irish zombie nodded, “and what extremely ugly women seem to live in this city. I’ve never seen such fat ugly looking specimens.”

Mulligan the Undead promptly died again as he looked out the window and saw the walking specimens of ghastly horror.

Mulligan’s last words before dying a second time were, “Genesis 6 would have never happened had the angels landed in Calgary instead of the Middle East. There would have been no rise of the Nephilim because the sons of God would not have found the daughters of men attractive.”

“Truer last words were never spoken, Mulligan,” Forrest acknowledged, “with the possible exception of Oscar Wilde’s last words spoken in his room, “Either that wallpaper goes or I do.” It’s amazing how unattractive interior decorating can lead to deaths of great geniuses. To say nothing of how unattractive exterior decorating can lead to the death of one’s valet.”

Dashwood Forrest thought of calling South African witch doctor Sterling Makabo on his mobile phone and get him to chant a spell to bring Mulligan back from the dead.

He thought he’d wait a while however until they had left Calgary.

Forrest was in a quandary however. Even though he was gay, the site of such repulsive ugly looking members of the opposite sex waddling around and fender bumping their broomsticks in public was enough to kill one’s libido faster than taking a cold shower in a U.S. Army barracks.

Forrest removed a classical ancient Greek olive oil lamp from his jacket pocket.

The lamp had been a gift from his good friend Ivanka Trump for favours rendered.

If he remembered his Arabian Nights folklore correctly, Aladdin used a magic lamp to summon a genie.

Maybe he could rub this lamp and summon a genie to bump off all these ugly women.

Dashwood Forrest rubbed the lamp.

Pan Goatee appeared.

“How the Hell did I get from an Orson Welles repertory film festival in Washington D.C. (where strangely enough I was the only one in the theatre) to a milk shake bar in what looks to be the city of Calgary- the city of gay cowboys- not surprising given the overall unattractiveness of the women here,” the genetically created satyr serial killer scratched his head.

“I do most humbly apologize, my good man,” Dashwood Forrest bowed, “or rather my good satyr, I was hoping to summon a genie but you’ll do. I was wondering if you could slay these ugly women for me.”

“Happy to oblige,” Pan Goatee took out his astrally projected laser machete and walked out the door where he proceeded to behead ugly women left, right and center.

Pan Goatee’s aesthetically oriented mercy killing actions led to Mulligan the Irish Zombie coming back from the dead.

“Why did we come to Calgary anyways?” Mulligan asked Dashwood Forrest.

“To see Lake Louise in the Blue Canadian Rockies to celebrate Dame Vera Lynn’s 100th Birthday earlier this month,” Dashwood Forrest explained.

“Then let’s go see Lake Louise and go,” Mulligan pleaded.

“An excellent idea,” Forrest said, “go outside and hail a taxi for us, will you?”.

As the Michael Jackson song Thriller played in the background on the old milkshake bar diner’s jukebox, Mulligan the Irish zombie ran outside and did just that.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday March 29th
2017.

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Pan Goatee Celebrates International Women’s Day

March 8, 2017 at 7:27 pm (Commentary, Culture, Geopolitics and International Relations, Horror, Mythology, News, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , )

The genetically created satyr serial killer Pan Goatee (who escaped from a Set Enterprises truck in northern England back in 2013) was celebrating International Women’s Day by cutting off the heads of ugly looking women as he rode the New York City subway.

“Get out of the way, you ugly looking thing,” Pan Goatee quickly used his astral laser machete to cut off the creature’s head as she got in his way.

“Hey, mac, that’s sexist,” some guy shouted at Pan Goatee, “don’t you know it’s International Women’s Day?”.

“Go join them then,” Pan Goatee cut off the man’s testicles with his astral laser machete.

He exited the train and continued to lop off the head of any ugly looking woman who got in his way.

“Who’s that?” the Greek god Zeus asked his daughter Artemis (who had been known as Diana among the Ancient Romans).

“He kind of looks like Pan the god of the wild who sadly died under mysterious circumstances a couple of millenia ago,” Artemis answered.

“He does,” Zeus agreed.

“Who is this guy?” U.S. President Donald Trump asked one of his aides as he watched the beheading video on Instagram.

“He works for us, Mr. President,” his aide replied, “He’s a contract assassin for our government. He does serial killing of ugly women in his spare time as a hobby.”

“That’s good to hear,” President Trump applied some Brylcreem to his hair, “that’s very good to hear.”

“Who does he work for?” Russian President Vladimir Putin asked one of his aides as he viewed the beheading on YouTube.

“Sadly, not for us,” his aide replied.

“How do we get him to work for us?” Putin asked.

“We could tell him how Russia is a country full of beautiful women as opposed to the ugly stoats and gargoyles who seem to predominate among North American womanhood these days,” his aide replied, “so he could spend more time screwing our women instead of beheading North American women. Make love not war as the anti-Vietnam War protesters of the 1960s used to say.”

“I like that idea,” Vladimir took his shirt off and started lifting some weights in his office.

“Who does he work for?” North Korean dictator Kim Jong-un asked one of his aides as he handed him a facecloth which the aide declined for some reason.

“Sadly for the imperialist American running dogs,” his aide replied.

“How do we get him to work for us?” Kim Jong-un text messaged his friend Dennis Rodman.

“We could tell him how North Korea is a country full of beautiful women as opposed to the ugly camels and cows who seem to predominate among North American womanhood these days,” his aide replied.

“An excellent idea,” Kim Jong-un clicked the Like button on the Facebook page set up for the assassination of his half-brother Kim Jong-nam.

“Great Zeus, Hecate has been beheaded,” Apollo shouted from Times Square as the Greek goddess of witchcraft in crone form had attracted the wrath of Pan Goatee.

“What manner of half-man half-goat is this that even deity dies at his hands?” Zeus asked as he stood in front of the Coca-Cola neon sign.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday March 8th
2017.

null

Artemis the Goddess of the Hunt, unlike Hecate the goddess of witchcraft, was spared the wrath of Pan Goatee.

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Haiku About Homelessness

February 26, 2017 at 4:47 pm (Commentary, Culture, Personal essays, Poetry) (, , )

Without home no hope
People view you with contempt
that’s what really hurts

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Gorbachev: From The Berlin Wall to The Mexico Wall

February 24, 2017 at 6:18 pm (Commentary, Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, News, Vampire novel) (, , , , )

On November 9th, 1989, the Berlin Wall fell heralding the start of a new era for Central and Eastern Europe.

It looked like peace would finally break out over the world.

The nations of Central and Eastern Europe formerly under Communist rule became democracies.

The Soviet Union itself was undergoing a process of democratization under its President and Soviet Communist Party General-Secretary Mikhail Gorbachev.

Gorbachev won the Nobel Peace Prize for his achievements in 1990.

Then in August 1991, tragedy struck.

Hardliners in the Soviet Red Army and the Politburo staged a coup against Gorbachev.

Gorbachev was on holidays at his Black Sea dachau in the Crimea at the time.

Meanwhile in Moscow, Russian Federation President Boris Yeltsin climbed on to a tank, raised his fist in the air and shouted his defiance against the hardliners.

The coup eventually collapsed.

Two days after the coup attempt, Gorbachev returned to Moscow but a diminished figure.

The feisty Russian Federation President Boris Yeltsin was now the man of the hour.

By December of 1991, Yeltsin had met with the Presidents of the other Republics of the U.S.S.R. and they had signed a new Treaty forming what was called the Commonwealth of Independent States.

The Soviet Union was now finished in practical reality.

Its legal and formal dissolution occurred on Western Gregorian Calendar Christmas Day- December 25th, 1991 with the stroke of a pen signed by Mikhail Gorbachev’s hand.

Nationalism instead of Communism would emerge as the new driving force in the former Republics of the U.S.S.R.

Such intense nationalism would lead to conflict between Georgia and Russia in 2008 and then between Russia and Ukraine from 2014 until the present day.

And now intense nationalism had come to the world’s other nuclear power- the United States.

Its proponent- a man named Donald Trump.

Within a period of 28 years, the world had gone from the tearing down of a wall that divided the great German city of Berlin to a proposed wall that would be built along the Mexico-U.S. border..

Then in the South China Sea- intense nationalism had likewise taken hold.

China, Japan, the Philippines, Indonesia, Vietnam and Malaysia all laid claim to islands in the South China Sea.

In the Middle East, it looked like a two-state solution for the Israeli-Palestinian conflict was slowly being buried under a policy change in the Trump Administration in Washington DC.

And then there was North Korea with its peculiar extremely isolationist and extremely paranoid form of nationalism

The killing of North Korean leader Kim Jong-un’s brother Kim Jong-nam by lethal use of a poisoned facecloth at Kuala Lumpur International Airport in Malaysia had shown the bizarre turn the world had now taken.

James Bond movies had met with the Apocalypse of the Book of Revelation.

Gorbachev sighed.

He felt in his heart World War III was coming.

Russian and NATO troops were now facing one another on the Polish-Russian border and the Latvian-Russian border.

World War I had begun with the assassination of the ArchDuke Franz Ferdinand the nephew of the Emperor Franz Joseph of Austria.

Perhaps in some twisted sick way, the developing scenario for World War III had begun with the assassination of Kim Jong-nam the half-brother of North Korean leader Kim Jong-un.

Perhaps the mysterious disappearance of Malaysia Airlines Flight MH370 en route from Malaysia to China and the shooting down of Malaysia Airlines Flight MH17 over Eastern Ukraine was Divine Providence’s way of letting the world know of how the bullet that would start World War III would occur.

It would occur in the form of a poisoned facecloth thrown in Kuala Lumpur Airport.

American reporter Lincoln Steffens had once said “I have seen the future and it works” when he visited the U.S.S.R.

Gorbachev felt within, “I have seen the future and it is dark.”

Steffens turned out to be wrong.

Gorbachev prayed that he was.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday February 24th
2017.

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The Royal Albert Club London- 1927

February 23, 2017 at 6:02 pm (Commentary, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, International Intrigue, News, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

Henry Armstrong and Thomas Tennyson were both with British Intelligence. They were meeting with a British politician Winston Churchill at the Royal Albert Club in London.

All three men were members of the Royal Albert Club. The meeting was unofficial. What brought all 3 men together were their concerns about a rising political movement in Germany- Nazism.

The year was 1927. Most members of the British political establishment and most members of the British Intelligence community were not worried about Nazism.

The concerns these men had were dismissed by their compatriots as a very odd and eccentric form of obsession. It would only be after 1945 that these men would be regarded as visionaries.

“So this wealthy Egyptian who lives in Berlin and calls himself Mr. Sol Invictus Set is not a racist,” Churchill chewed the end of his cigar.

“No, he seemed to very much enjoy the company of Miss Josephine Baker in Paris,” Thomas Tennyson showed Churchill the pictures that British Intelligence had taken of the evening.

“Yes, he is very much enjoying himself indeed,” Churchill took a sip of brandy, “What a very beautiful and lovely woman this Miss Josephine Baker is. Set has excellent taste in women.”

Churchill continued to gaze at one picture in particular.

“Ahem,” Thomas Tennyson cleared his throat, “I think your darling Clementine would clearly have some concerns about the amount of time you’re spending looking at that photo of Miss Baker.”

“Yes, well,” Churchill handed the photos back to Tennyson, “I’m the sort of person who doesn’t like to forget a face.”

Henry Armstrong had to work overtime in controlling himself not to break into a huge fit of laughter over the Churchillian remark.

“So if Set isn’t racist,” Churchill sat back in his chair and puffed on his cigar, “why is he using his earnings off Chicago mobster Al Capone’s bootleg booze to donate such huge sums of money to Corporal Hitler’s German National Socialist Workers’ Party?”.

“Set seems to have an obsession with power,” Henry Armstrong explained.

“So Set will back any individual capable of arousing the masses to attain power and Set will be the power behind the throne?” Churchill said.

“Exactly,” Armstrong nodded.

“And he owns vast amounts of property here in Britain?” Churchill raised an eyebrow.

“He does,” Armstrong nodded again.

“Hm, this is definitely a matter for His Majesty’s Government to look into,” Churchill bit his cigar again, “we can’t have foreign nationals going around owning huge swathes of Britain.”

“Actually,” Tennyson interjected, “we’ve now found out that Set was granted British citizenship in 1922. He’s a subject of the British Crown.”

Churchill spilled brandy all over his tie after this last remark. He thought of switching from British bulldog mode to Swiss Saint Bernard mode and start licking the brandy off his tie but thought better of it.

“How the Hell did he manage that?” A flabbergasted Churchill asked.

“He’s apparently good friends with the Prince of Wales,” Armstrong explained.

“Really?” Churchill was likewise good friends with the Prince of Wales but was totally unaware of Set’s friendship with the flamboyant Prince Edward, “how is that possible?”.

“Well,” Tennyson blushed, “”Set has acted as what you might call the Prince of Wales’ pimp. He’s lined up women and dates for him.”

“Good God,” Churchill spit the end of his cigar into his now empty glass of brandy, “and is he continuing to act as the Prince of Wales’ pimp?”.

“Probably not from Berlin, no,” Tennyson shook his head.

“Well, I hope he doesn’t return to this country then,” Churchill motioned to the Royal Albert Club waiter for more cigars and brandy, “that’s all we need. This wealthy bootlegger/pimp Set getting the Prince of Wales involved with some woman who might cause a major crisis for this country sometime in the next 10 years.”

Armstrong glanced through a Simpson’s store catalogue that his sister from Canada had sent him.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday February 15th
2017.

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