A Candidates’ Debate and Trump’s Missing Hairpiece
A Candidates’ Debate and Trump’s Missing Hairpiece
British MP Renfield R. Renfield was at another all-party candidates’ debate in his constituency of Tewkesbury In The Cotswolds.
As he waited for the debate to begin, he was reading the notes made by Set Enterprises’ secret agent Harvey Tallbanger (a 6 foot 8 tall Welsh pooka usually invisible bunny rabbit) at yesterday’s meeting between Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky and Russian President Vladimir Putin hosted by French President Emmanuel Macron and German Chancellor Angela Merkel at the Élysées Palace in Paris.
As Renfield sat sipping his Harvey Wallbanger drink, he noticed Harvey Tallbanger sitting on a chair next to the podium on stage.
The 6 foot 8 tall bunny rabbit was wearing ballet slippers, shorts and a Hawaiian t-shirt.
Renfield deduced that Tallbanger must have read the same blog post about Freddie Mercury once meeting a German record producer that he himself had read earlier today.
Renfield motioned to the pub keeper who was the host and chairperson of tonight’s debate.
“I’d like to buy Harvey Wallbangers for everybody all around,” Renfield said, “both the audience and the fellow candidates.”
“Very good, sir,” the pub keeper host and chairman nodded.
Towards the end of the debate, a thoroughly inebriated woman (who had gone up on stage and kissed Harvey Tallbanger) stood at the podium and microphone and said, “I am concerned about the quality of teachers in our country. I’d now like to read a letter I had recently written to my son’s schoolteacher.”
The woman cleared her throat, “I call it An Open Letter To My Son’s Teacher Who Gave My Son A ‘D’ On The Essay I Wrote For Him.”
Renfield and the rest of the candidates tried hard to contain their laughter.
“Dear madam,” the woman began, “I am extremely and personally hurt and humiliated by the mark you recently gave…”
And so the debate went.
. . .
The U.S. House of Representatives Judiciary Committee today had unveiled two articles of impeachment against U.S. President Donald Trump; abuse of power and obstruction of Congress.
Furious, Trump had tweeted about “do-nothing Democrats on a witch hunt” and then was going out on to the White House lawn to make an official statement to the press.
That’s when he looked in the mirror.
“Lexington,” Trump called out to his British butler and valet, “somebody cut a large piece of hair out of my toupee while I was sleeping. Who would do such a thing? I can’t face the press looking like a complete ass.”
“Well it’s never stopped you before, sir,” Lexington muttered under his breath.
. . .
Actor Rowan Atkinson pulled his Mr. Bean TV show teddy bear out of his suitcase.
He was shocked to see Teddy wearing a golden urine coloured wig.
“Teddy,” Atkinson was shocked, “You look like Donald Trump. Who would do this to you?”.
. . .
Dashwood Forrest owner of the Dashwood Forrest Art Gallery went to the room where he kept the Portrait of Dorian Gray and also as of yesterday the Portrait of Dorian Gray’s Teddy Bear.
On this evening when he approached the room, he did so with a feeling of trepidation.
For this morning when Forrest had checked on both paintings, the figure of Dorian Gray’s teddy bear had been missing from his painting.
Now as he pulled back the velvet curtains covering both paintings, Forrest was relieved to discover that both figures were safely in their appropriate spots within the frames.
“Oh Teddy,” Forrest looked at the figure of Dorian Gray’s teddy bear, “Where have you been? And what have you been up to?”.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday December 10th
2019.
Saint Nicholas’ Night In Spitsbergen
Saint Nicholas’ Night In Spitsbergen
The Set Enterprises jet landed down at the Spitsbergen International Airport.
On board were British MP Renfield R. Renfield, his friend Amadeus Emanon, members of Renfield’s personal British Army Brigade of Gurkhas and the pot smoking desert cactus plant Strawberry Fields Forever.
Strawberry Fields Forever had been flown to Spitsbergen for safe keeping since Xi Jinping had placed a death edict on him.
Renfield was dressed in the robes of and wearing the mitre of an Eastern Orthodox bishop.
He was also sporting a huge white beard and carrying a bishop’s staff shepherd’s crook.
“Tell me again why you’re dressed like that?” Asked Amadeus.
“Just on the off chance anybody asks, I’m Saint Nicholas the Bishop of Myra here to deliver a gift to the Frozen North Orleans Jazz Cafe in Spitsbergen,” Renfield answered as he practiced his knockout the heretic Arius at the Council of Nicaea punch.
“And the gift is Strawberry Fields Forever?” Amadeus asked.
“Exactly,” Renfield nodded.
When the plane finally halted, Renfield got off the plane in his bishop’s robe and gave his Apostolic episcopal blessing on the frozen wasteland.
Renfield imparted the Sign of The Cross blessing and said, “Ho-te-deum. Ho-te-deum. Ho-te-deum.”
“What does that mean?” Amadeus inquired.
“That’s Ho-Ho-Ho in Latin,” Renfield grinned underneath his beard.
“But I thought Saint Nicholas was a Greek bishop,” Amadeus noted.
“Oh shut up, Amadeus,” Renfield tripped over his bishop’s staff shepherd’s crook and went tumbling down the plane stairs.
“And I just text messaged J.K. Rowling,” Amadeus looked at his smart phone, “and she answered back right away. That isn’t how you say Ho-Ho-Ho in Latin.”
“I’ve got more important things to worry about,” Renfield stood up on his feet, “like I just froze my ass off hitting the ice on the airport tarmac.”
Suddenly a huge beam of light came down on the plane.
“This is Norwegian Immigration Authorities,” a voice said, “we want to see your identification papers.”
“We don’t have any,” Renfield answered back.
Suddenly a group of armed Norwegian Immigration officials surrounded them.
“We didn’t think you did Immigration checks here in the frozen wasteland of Spitsbergen,” Renfield called out, “We didn’t think you Immigration and Customs types enjoyed freezing your asses off.”
“We don’t,” said the snarky Immigration official, “we don’t enjoy freezing our balls off either if we had any. Mostly we’re at Customs and Immigration points where we harass tourists from Spain. But a psychic talking lutefisk on the King of Norway’s silver plate in his palace had a vision of a man dressed up as Saint Nicholas the Bishop of Myra up to no good on the island of Spitsbergen on the Night of the Feast of Saint Nicholas. That’s why we’re here.”
“No doubt, the psychic talking lutefisk also told you about the cartloads of illegal lutefisk we’re trying to smuggle into Spitsbergen in the cargo section of the plane,” said Renfield.
“What?” The Norwegian Immigration official immediately shit his pants which immediately turned to ice on this godforsaken frozen night, “Everybody unlock and search the cargo boxes.”
All the Norwegian Immigration officials immediately took the lids off the cargo crate boxes and dove in.
“But, Renfield,” Amadeus pointed out to his friend, “There’s no lutefisk in those crates. The Boss (the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set) stocked them with crocodiles to give Strawberry Fields Forever extra protection during his stay at the Frozen North Orleans Jazz Cafe.”
“Silly me, I forgot,” Renfield grinned sheepishly as the Norwegian Immigration officials uttered loud shrill piercing screams while they were eaten alive by crocodiles who were busy enjoying their first night in frozen Spitsbergen.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday December 6th
2019.
Canada’s Throne Speech and Krampus Carries Off Vienna’s Cardinal Schonborn
Canada’s Throne Speech and Krampus Carries Off Vienna’s Cardinal Schonborn
“So,” Amadeus asked his friend British MP Renfield R. Renfield, “Did you hear that after Justin Trudeau had finished making fun of Donald Trump at the Buckingham Palace reception the other night, he grabbed a box of opium laced catnip, came out to the Set Estate, gave the opium laced catnip to the Boss’ guard and watch cat Nefertiti Galore to send her off to La-La-Land and then proceeded to engage in mystical communion with the pot smoking desert cactus plant Strawberry Fields Forever?”.
“I heard that,” Renfield acknowledged after he watched the garbage men sanitation engineers getting high after emptying the garbage cans containing Nefertiti Galore’s cat litter.
“I assume that Justin then probably met his alien friend Gali-Gula the ET gray from Planet Nibiru who’s possessed by the spirit of the ancient Roman Emperor Caligula?” Amadeus ate his toast.
“Harvey Tallbanger tells me that he did,” Renfield nodded, “Gali-Gula helped Trudeau write the Canadian Governor-General’s Speech From The Throne which was read today at the opening of the new session of the Canadian Parliament in Ottawa.”
Amadeus read from the Canadian throne speech on his laptop the following words, “We all share the same space/time continuum on the same planetary spaceship.”
“I think Justin was not the only one inhaling Strawberry Fields Forever’s exhaled pot smoke,” Renfield remarked, “Gali-Gula must have imbibed a great deal as well to pen that whopper of a line.”
“Moving on to another subject,” Amadeus read to Renfield the following news item, “It was announced this past December 3rd that Archbishop Fulton J. Sheen who was 20th Century America’s greatest Roman Catholic evangelist and preacher has had his beatification ceremony postponed. He was supposed to be beatified this coming December 21st but the ceremony has been postponed. Apparently the first time in Church history that a beatification ceremony has been postponed. What’s up with that?”.
“Apparently certain members of the USeless Conference of Catholic Bishops objected to Sheen being beatified,” Renfield replied.
“Why would they object to Sheen being beatified?” Amadeus inquired.
“Because Sheen was a staunch anti-Communist and what’s more he was truly intellectual and scholarly in his anti-Communism unlike most members of the John Birch Society. Therefore true Communists detested Sheen even more than they did the John Birch Society whom they just regarded as a bunch of “proletarian deplorables”. An elitist attitude still shared by 21st Century female Marxist candidates for President.”
“You’re saying certain members of the USeless Conference of Catholic Bishops are Communists?” Amadeus was shocked.
“Yes, either Communist or predatory homosexual (who sexually assault altar boys and young seminarians) or both,” Renfield nodded, “Sheen did not get along well with the predatory homosexual Archbishop of New York City Francis Cardinal Spellman. Hence Spellman’s modern day disciples among the USeless Conference of Catholic Bishops can’t stand Sheen either.”
“Wow,” Amadeus shook his head.
“Elizabeth Scalia an airheaded associate of the ludicrous Bishop Robert Barron who thinks Hitler, Stalin, Mao and Pol Pot are in Heaven since there’s nobody in Hell according to his Dare We Hope That All Are Saved? Theology (both Jesus of Nazareth and Raymond Red Reddington of The Blacklist could easily tell him “No.”) tried to say that Sheen himself was gay by calling him a “flouncy” in one of her Twitter tweets. She obviously never saw the episode of What’s My Line? where Archbishop Sheen as a guest easily charmed the women panelists. Most women can easily tell whether a man is gay or not unless of course they’re as stupid as Elizabeth Scalia.”
“Who’s leading the USeless Conference of Catholic Bishops’ charge against Bishop Sheen’s beatification?” Amadeus inquired.
“The spirit of Antichrist filled Archbishop of New York City Timothy Cardinal Dolan and the spirit of Antichrist filled Archbishop of Chicago Blaise Cardinal Cupich,” Renfield answered, “The usual suspects.”
. . .
Peter Whitstable the man they call the Fox Mulder of Interpol was walking the streets of Vienna the Austrian capital.
He stood in front of Saint Stephen’s Cathedral in Vienna where recently a Baphomet worshipping music and dance concert was held there with the permission of Christoph Cardinal Schonborn the Archbishop of Vienna.
As Whitstable stood there, he suddenly noticed Cardinal Schonborn himself walking down the street.
Suddenly Krampus the infamous half-goat half demon who used to follow around the saintly bishop Saint Nicholas came down the street.
Krampus was carrying his bag full of naughty individuals he was taking to Hell on this Krampusnacht (the evening of December 5th- the night before the Feast Day of Saint Nicholas which was December 6th).
Krampus picked up Cardinal Schonborn with his hairy arms and threw him into his bag.
He then went down a sewer no doubt on his way to Hell.
Whitstable bought himself a candy cane from a street corner Santa Claus.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday December 5th
2019.
The Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec singing at a concert hall in Vienna while outside in the streets, Krampus is carrying Vienna’s screaming Archbishop Cardinal Schonborn in a bag on his way to Hell.
The Kraken Visits A Christmas Market
The Kraken Visits A Christmas Market
The Kraken who called himself Napoleon VI (because he hoped someday to become Emperor of France) and his wife Medusa (the ex-Gorgon) decided to head north across the border into Germany to visit one of the famous German Christmas markets.
They rented a one horse open sleigh for their journey.
As they journeyed north, the Kraken wearing red and white and a false white beard waved and said, “Ho, ho, ho” at all the passers-by.
“Mommy,” said one little girl, “I didn’t know Santa had 8 arms.”
“He has to in order to handle 8 reindeer,” her mother answered.
They soon came to a very beautiful Bavarian village with a Christmas market.
The Kraken exited the sleigh and posed for pictures with various people who were anxious to increase the likes on their Instagram accounts.
Medusa went shopping for candles and ornaments.
The Kraken then went over to a mulled wine stand and spent a great deal of time imbibing.
“Hic! Hic! Hic!” The Kraken said as he walked (or more accurately stumbled) his way towards the Christmas market central square to meet up with Medusa.
Playing at the gazebo bandstand in the Christmas market central square was the noted Norwegian jazz singer Olaf Fjordson.
His orchestra consisting of a jazz pianist, a jazz saxophonist, a jazz guitarist and a jazz violinist was behind him.
Olaf Fjordson and His Jazz Orchestra normally played the very popular wintertime jazz cafe Frozen North Orleans on the island of Spitsbergen, a jazz cafe that had been frequented by such notables as Orson Welles, Pablo Picasso, Howard Hughes and his biographer Clifford Irving.
They had been flown in from Spitsbergen to open the town’s Christmas market.
The jazz pianist was on stage trying to scrape the icicles off his piano keys.
The jazz saxophonist was holding his saxophone over an open fire as ice fell out of the mouthpiece.
The jazz guitarist was likewise scraping ice off his strings.
The jazz violinist was sitting on stage with his hands tied behind his back as his Australian Ernievarius violin (made out of winter tires) sat on his lap and therefore was not being played (for which the Christmas market crowds should be truly thankful).
As such, jazz singer Olaf Fjordson was currently singing a capella.
Sang Fjordson,
I feel it in my fingers
I feel it in my toes
Frostbite’s all around me
And so the feeling grows…
After singing this last line, Fjordson immediately started screaming his head off like a heavy metal singer in concert.
“That Fjordson seems to have an extensive range when it comes to varieties of musical genre,” the Kraken remarked to Medusa.
“He does indeed,” Medusa agreed.
The Kraken then checked his 8 Rolex watches and noticed that it was time for them to head off in the direction of Berlin where they were due for a midnight banquet with German Chancellor Angela Merkel.
As they left, they noticed a World War I Sopwith Camel (that had flown the jazz orchestra from Spitsbergen to the Bavarian village Christmas market) being de-iced along with the pilot – a beagle wearing a World War I flying ace’s cap and goggles.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday November 24th
2019.
Don Quixote and The Fountain of Youth
Don Quixote and The Fountain of Youth
British MP Renfield R. Renfield was temporarily back in London from the town of Tewkesbury.
Renfield was in the process of setting up his campaign re-election headquarters in Tewkesbury.
However he was back in London to attend the final session of this current Westminster Parliament to elect a new Speaker of the House of Commons to succeed John Bercow who was retiring as Speaker.
After Sir Lindsay Hoyle was elected the new Speaker, Renfield went to The Dashwood Forrest Art Gallery in London where he had been invited to see a painting that the gallery had recently acquired.
Upon Renfield’s arrival, Dashwood Forrest showed him the new painting:
“What’s the painting called?” Renfield asked Forrest.
“It’s called Don Quixote Kisses Dulcinea del Toboso,” Forrest answered.
“Really?” Renfield accepted a piece of shrimp offered him by one of the catering waiters, “I must say Don Quixote looks rather young in that painting and not the old fogey depicted in Cervantes’ novel.”
“There’s an interesting story to that painting,” Forrest accepted a vegan hot dog from another waiter, “this painting was actually painted in 19th Century Mexico. According to the artist’s notebook, he actually met the young looking Don Quixote and the young looking Dulcinea del Toboso. Quixote, said the artist, did not die after recovering his sanity and renouncing his ideals of knightly chivalry like Cervantes said at the end of his work. Instead Quixote sailed to the New World and went to Florida where he discovered the Fountain of Youth. He drank from it and became young again. He returned to Spain and brought Dulcinea del Toboso to the New World and to Florida where she too drank from the Fountain of Youth. She too became eternally young. The couple then moved to Mexico where they were living when the artist painted this picture.”
“So according to the painter of this picture,” Renfield helped himself to a whisky, “Don Quixote was a real person and not a figment of Cervantes’ imagination.”
“That is so,” Forrest nodded.
“I wonder where the Fountain of Youth is located,” Renfield looked intently at the painting.
. . .
“I see you got yourself a new dog in Florida to replace Caesar,” Donald Trump remarked to one of his secret service bodyguards named Schneider.
“This is Caesar,” Schneider petted the young pup.
“Nonsense, Caesar looked to be on his last legs when he was here in this office,” Trump remarked, “he was 12 years old and dying. And you said you were taking him to Florida on one last holiday before he went off on his final journey.”
“I was,” Schneider said, “But when I took him for a walk down there, he found a spring and drank from it. And now he looks like this.”
“Where is this spring?” Trump demanded to know.
“I’ve forgotten,” Schneider lied knowing what sort of man he was dealing with in Trump.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday November 4th
2019.
Artemis: Goddess of The Hunt
Artemis: Goddess of The Hunt
A whisper in the wind
A rustle in the trees
A mid-October autumn
A point between
the September Indian Summer
and the cold winds of Samhain
In early November
The land waits in anticipation
A hunter’s moon last evening
And soon the hunter will appear
It is Artemis the goddess of the hunt
Who stands at the door
For the hunt this side of autumn
Will be a hunt like no other
-A poem and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday October 14th
2019.
Renfield Discusses Bozos Heading Amnesty Canada International, The Coming Middle East War and Drones Hitting Saudi Refinery
Renfield Discusses Bozos Heading Amnesty International Canada, The Coming Middle East War and Drones Hitting Saudi Refinery
“I am NOT an impotent bed wetter with a small penis.”
-Alex Neve, Secretary-General of Amnesty International Canada snivelling in response to the latest political volley shot at him by Alberta Premier Jason Kenney
When asked by the news media to drop his trousers and his drawers in order to provide substantial empirical proof to back up his denial, Mr. Neve declined to do so.
Meanwhile over in London England, British Labour Party leader Jeremy Corbyn stood up and left a pub when he saw the Egyptian god Anubis enter.
Meanwhile in another corner of the pub, British MP Renfield R. Renfield and his friend Amadeus Emanon were discussing the world geopolitical situation.
“So, what’s this war of words going on in Canada between Alex Neve the Secretary-General of Amnesty International Canada and Alberta Premier Jason Kenny?” Amadeus asked as he ordered the Alberta Angus steak sandwich medium rare.
“Well Alex Neve being your typical Marxist-Leninist inclined climate change obsessed radical environmentalist nut case thinks that building pipelines and putting people in Alberta’s oil and gas industry back to work is a gross violation of human rights,” Renfield replied.
“That’s kind of a different claim to make,” Amadeus sipped his tea.
“It’s not how Lenin, Josef Stalin, Mao Tse-tung and the current House of Saud’s idea of violating human rights would work but then Canada is a country that recently legalized marijuana,” Renfield pointed out.
“What can I get you for dinner, sir?” The waitress asked Renfield.
“The two piece cod Fish and Chips, please,” Renfield handed her back the menu.
“So, what do you think of the possibility of a major regional war breaking out in the Middle East sometime in the foreseeable future?” Amadeus asked.
“Well, it’s always possible that a major Middle East regional war won’t break out this year although even that possibility is becoming more and more unlikely,” Renfield said, “however in the longer term, saying that a Middle East regional war will NOT break out in the next few years makes about as much sense as saying that someday a member of America’s contemporary so-called progressive/liberal left will actually come to understand what Marxist-Leninism and Fascism actually are in their historical antecedents rather than in the pseudointellectual dream world that most American progressives and liberals seem to exist in.”
“Wow, then that definitely does not look good for world peace,” Amadeus admitted.
“And it may not look good for world peace in the very very immediate future if Benjamin Netanyahu’s Likud Party continues to do poorly in the polls in the next few days leading up to the Israeli general Election,” said Renfield, “Netanyahu is the sort of political personality that would prefer World War III breaking out rather than the absolutely horrific (in his opinion) possibility that he might cease being Prime Minister of Israel. Even saying he’d annex the Jordan Valley and the northern Dead Sea area didn’t give Netanyahu the boost in the polls that he desires. So obviously he may have to resort to the last resort of starting a war with Iran in order to save his political skin.”
“I see someone launched a drone attack on the oil refinery at the Abqaiq facility and the Khurais oil field run by Saudi Aramco in Saudi Arabia early this morning,” Amadeus noted, “The closure will impact 5 million barrels of crude oil processing per day which is half of Saudi crude oil production and 5 percent of the world’s daily oil production. We may soon see $100 per barrel oil.”
“That’s right,” Renfield nodded, “The Houthi rebels of Yemen are claiming responsibility for the drone attacks while others are saying that it’s Iran itself behind the attacks. U.S. Secretary of State Mike Pompeo who seems to have replaced John Bolton as the war hawk in the Trump Administration is now making the claim that it’s Iran itself which is behind the attacks.”
Meanwhile in that other corner of the pub, Anubis the Egyptian jackal headed god was reading a copy of the Last Will and Testament of Czar Nicholas II of Russia that was given to him by Virgil the longest serving librarian at the Bodleian Library at Oxford.
Meanwhile the Syro-Phoenician mermaid goddess Atargatis had shape shifted into human form and had traveled back in time and was now a Russian countess at her palatial manor in Saint Petersburg on the eve of the Bolshevik Revolution.
She stood at the window of the manor alongside her dog.
The Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing (who had likewise traveled back in time) approached her.
“Do you know where Apophis is?” Van Helsing asked Atargatis.
“On the battleship Aurora,” the goddess answered.
“That’s what I thought,” said Van Helsing.
Apophis was the Great Serpent in ancient Egyptian religion and the ancient Egyptian god of chaos and destruction.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday September 14th
2019.
Friday The 13th Harvest Moon
Friday the 13th Harvest Moon
Try not to think of this as your death,
The vampiress approached,
It’s just another harvest moon,
She glimmered in the full light of the moon,
Her hair, her gown,
She was luminous,
An angel of light….
“Bat out of Hell…” Meatloaf sang on the radio…
“Could be one and the same thing,”
The vampiress laughed as she approached,
“But it is just another harvest moon…”
“A Friday the 13th Harvest Moon,” said the man tied up in the chair,
“A black cat crossed my path today,
I walked under a ladder,
I crossed knives,
I looked a Greek tycoon’s gift horse in the mouth today at the racetrack
And I ran a hockey goalie named Jason over with my car today
getting my tires slashed in the process.”
“I understand there’s a werewolf howling in the rainforests of the Amazon tonight,” the vampiress smiled,
“On this harvest moon,”
She continued to sing.
“The werewolf would be Magog Rhys Petley,”
said the man,
“A London based Welsh private eye bitten by a snake’s head named Rahu during a lunar eclipse many years ago,
Turned the poor fellow into a werewolf for some reason,
Lev Tomi hired him to find out who’s setting fire to the Amazon rainforests
And now he’s howling away under a harvest moon.”
“On this harvest moon,” the vampiress sang.
“I wonder if Neil Young would like your cover,” the man said.
The vampiress’ gown fell off her shoulders on to the floor.
“I guess he would,” smiled the man,
“he’d probably like you under cover as well.”
“And what about you, Inspector Depp?” The vampiress asked the Scotland Yard detective, “Would you like me under cover?”.
“It’s a Friday the 13th Harvest Moon,” Depp answered, “Why not?”.
The vampiress bit his neck, drained all his blood and left him for dead.
“Like Britain after Halloween,” the vampiress laughed.
She walked out into the night where she was followed by a black jaguar with silver eyes.
The vampiress walked to the clock tower of Big Ben.
She turned and faced the Jaguar.
She once again dropped her gown.
The Black Jaguar turned into a man who made love to her.
And the bells of Big Ben, which were supposed to be silent while being repaired, started playing the tune,
“On this Harvest Moon…”
-A poem and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday September 13th
2019.
Dracul Van Helsing, The Goddess Sophia, Yaldabaoth and The Irish Backstop
Dracul Van Helsing, The Goddess Sophia, Yaldabaoth and The Irish Backstop
Sophia the Greco-Egyptian Gnostic goddess of wisdom was worried.
What would happen to her son Yaldabaoth the Irish leprechaun if a hard border was once again built on the Republic of Ireland-UK Northern Ireland border?
Her son Yaldabaoth was a leprechaun with a serious drinking problem.
He was the only being in all recorded history to be officially banned by court injunction from attending AA (Alcoholics Anonymous) meetings as any meeting he attended invariably ended up with all those present at the meetings falling off the wagon.
Yaldabaoth had the irritating habit of always falling asleep right on the line of the Republic of Ireland/UK Northern Ireland border.
This was fine as long as the border was an open (rather than a closed) border as it had been ever since the Good Friday Agreement was signed back in 1998.
But Good Friday 1998 might come to an end at Halloween 2019 if there was a no-deal Brexit.
Of course the House of Commons and the House of Lords had just passed a bill brought forth by the anti-Semitic Labour leader Jeremy Corbyn to stop a no-deal Brexit from happening this coming Halloween (ironically in this regard Corbyn was fulfilling the agenda of the pro-globalist, pro-EU and New World Order One World Government oriented Rothschilds).
However the trouble was British MP Renfield R. Renfield was backing Boris Johnson in his quest to have Brexit by Halloween 2019.
And Sophia the Greco-Egyptian Gnostic goddess of wisdom being wise knew that one should never underestimate Renfield R. Renfield even though the pro-EU segments of the British Parliament and much of the British and American news media were doing just that.
Boris Johnson may have run out of tricks up his sleeve but Renfield hadn’t.
Already Sophia could visualize a Brexit firecracker exploding in Jeremy Corbyn’s rear end as the clock hit 11:59 PM on October 31st 2019 and Renfield shouted “Trick or Treat” from the window of his room in a Soho whore house.
And if a no-deal Brexit occurred and there was once again a hard Irish border, her son Yaldabaoth could end up buried underneath a concrete wall.
Unlike the American authorities and the whereabouts of Jimmy Hoffa, she’d know where the body is buried.
But this would be of small comfort to her.
After all, she had told people through the centuries that her son Yaldabaoth was the Demi-Urge who created the material physical universe.
And if it came out that her son was actually an Irish leprechaun with a serious drinking problem who now lay buried under concrete on the Irish border, well, she’d positively die of embarrassment.
Of course Sophia knew that the Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing was a friend of Renfield R. Renfield.
She figured that if she whipped him up her famous Greco-Egyptian-Irish-Italian-Norse-Greenlander omelette for breakfast and gave him a great tantric sex piece of tail as a midnight offering, he might put in a good word for her with Renfield.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday September 6th
2019.
Sherry and The Unicorn
September 15, 2019 at 10:55 pm (Commentary, Folklore, History, Inspiration, Life, love, magic, Mythology, Nature, Poetry, Romance, The Supernatural) (narrative poem, poem, Sherry)
Sherry and The Unicorn
The golden colours of autumn
Shone brightly around the hills and trees
As Sherry set out from her beautiful rustic old farmstead and grounds
Autumn was her favourite time of year she reflected
As a cool autumn breeze blew gently through her dark hair
Sherry loved to go on evening walks
Sometimes alone
Or with her dog
Or one of her children
Tonight she was alone
Alone to contemplate
And silently communicate with both God and Nature
Which was one of her favourite past times
Contemplating and communicating with both God and Nature
She set out on the path
That would take her along the river
And by the woods
In her eyes both peace and sadness
Peace from communicating with God and nature
Sadness from the night her nearly 3 year old daughter died from pneumonia
In her arms
On the night when the worst March snowstorm of the century hit Western Europe
And ambulances were unable to get through the snow drifts
To reach the farm stead
And rush the girl to hospital
Sherry gave the impression of one who had lived a thousand lives
For her eyes seemed to reflect the wisdom of one who had
She had been born in the Malaysian province of Sarawak
On the island of Borneo
Through her veins flowed the blood of the Iban
Who were the famed Head Hunters of Borneo
Whose exploits and ferocity
Were the stuff of folk lore
But were now a gentle and loving people
Since the light of Christ had been brought to them
Also the blood of the Malay flowed through her veins
The people who gave Malaysia its name
On her father’s side she had both Chinese and Japanese ancestry
For her paternal grandfather and paternal grandmother had a Romeo and Juliet style love story
But one with a happy ending
Her grandfather was Japanese
Having been born into a noble Japanese Samurai family
Of one of the many Samurai clans that existed throughout Japan
And still existed prior to Gen. MacArthur’s governorship of the country in the post-World War II years
Now those mighty Samurai clans existed only in history books and ancestral family stories
And of course Hollywood and Japanese films
But her grandfather a noble Samurai knight
Had fallen in love with a Chinese woman
In a time period when the Samurai clans had fallen under the sway of Tojo
And an extreme militaristic form of Shintoism
Whose Japanese master race theories about Japanese racial superiority among Asians
Were matching Hitler’s German racial superiority theories about
German racial superiority
Among the peoples of Europe
So it would not do for a Japanese samurai knight
To fall in love with a Chinese woman
And worse still as far as his family and clan
were concerned-
He wanted to marry her!
Keep her as a kept woman if you must
His immediate male family members told him
But do not, under any circumstances, marry her.
But this noble Samurai knight was truly noble by nature
And not noble in name only.
He married the woman he loved-
A woman of China!
The result was the the pronouncement of a Japanese Samurai clan’s equivalent
Of an Iranian ayatollah’s fatwa-
A death edict for both the Samurai
And his bride!
The couple fled as far away from the reach of the Samurai clans as they could get
To the island of Borneo!
And many years later Sherry was born
The granddaughter of these star-crossed lovers
Sherry was teased as a child
Because the village because of the darkness of her eyes
Thought her the reincarnation
Of the River serpent woman
Who haunted her village and family folklore
A great great great grandmother several generations back in her Iban family tree
Who had a human body for the top part
But a serpent body for the bottom part of her body
It was said the River serpent woman
had extremely dark eyes
And Sherry had the darkest eyes of any female currently living in her family
But that was Sherry’s past
And the sights of autumn and deer
And rabbits and squirrels was Sherry’s present
The unicorn sat down in the clearing of the woods
A magical and enchanting creature
In an age where the only magic and enchanting were done by dark beings
And therefore magical enchanting creatures of God were rarely seen
Of course the Unicorn being an essentially shy creature preferred it this way
Being able to walk the woods and hills freely without being gaped at by other creatures
Particularly those creatures with 2 arms and 2 legs and ten fingers and 10 toes who seemed to be particularly fond of gaping
Particularly those who carried those annoying little objects in their hands
And were always emitting flashes of light at themselves
Particularly as they stood alongside other creatures
The unicorn looked up
And then paused
For one of those creatures
He was just thinking about
Was standing on the other side of the River
And looking at him.
The unicorn thought about turning to run
He turned its gaze back to the creature
And the creature did something odd for this type of creature
Instead of getting closer to get a better look at him
The creature sat down on the banks of the River
And just looked
Not an annoying look either
Just a contemplative look
It was not eying the Unicorn either for dinner or emitting a flash
From an object in its hand
Just a gentle look
A look that seemed to acknowledge
The Unicorn as a fellow subject
Rather than an object to be simply gaped at
For the sake of gaping
The creature on the other side of the River then smiled at the Unicorn
That was it!
A simple smile
It seemed to be a kind smile
The Unicorn thought
Not a nasty or self-absorbed smile
That too often seemed to accompany the countenance
Of creatures like these
For some reason the Unicorn felt inclined to cross the River
On the other bank now
As the Unicorn stood
He noticed the creature with the kind smile
Had still not made any movement towards it-
The Unicorn.
The Unicorn approached and bowed its head and horn within inches of the creature with the kind smile
The creature with the kind smile gently patted his head and horn
And smiled some more.
The Unicorn gave the creature its own kind smile
And walked back across the River and then into the woods from whence it came.
When she returned home, some of her children called out to Sherry,
“Did you have a good walk, Mom?”.
“Yes, I did,” Sherry nodded as she took off her coat, “A very good walk.”
“Did you see anything?” The children asked.
“Yes,” Sherry smiled, “I saw some deer. And some rabbits and a squirrel.”
Sherry put her finger to her lips and mused aloud, “And let’s see. What else did I see?”.
Then she thought some more and then smiled, “Oh yes. And I saw a Unicorn.”
“Oh, Mom!” The children giggled and laughed.
-A poem written by Christopher
Sunday September 15th
2019.
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