Tartarus Bound and The Keys

September 18, 2020 at 10:22 pm (Commentary, Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, International Intrigue, News, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , )

As the three headed dog Cerberus led the late U.S. Associate Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg to her rotating barbeque spit over an open fire in Tartarus where she’d be spending her next eternity, three other figures had just been granted a one year dispensational leave from their rotating barbeque spits in Tartarus.

Pope Francis, who had actually lost the Keys of Saint Peter several years ago but didn’t bother relaying that message to Hades the Greek god of the Underworld, had communicated with the cthonic deity to release the three figures.

Bergoglio had communicated with Hades via a Rome based spiritist medium Sophia de Medici.


Sophia de Medici: Who did not feel at all threatened, sexually harrassed or lusted at by the men who worked in Pope Francis’ Vatican.

Later after the three figures arrived in Rome, Pope Francis had a Zoom conference video meeting with powerful figures from around the globe.

Meanwhile British MP Renfield R. Renfield was informing the London based billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set that the term “Great Reset” was a globalist code word for establishing a One World Marxist Leninist government.

Earlier this week Dr. Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus the Ethiopian Communist who headed WHO (the World Health Organization) said that the current crisis would not end “with a vaccine but only with a total reorganization of society. We can never go back to the way things were before.”

Renfeld told Set: “That’s globalist code for freedom is permanently dead.”

The Sodom and Gomorrah admiring Italian-American physician Dr. Anthony Fauci (medical darling of the mainstream Marxist media) also talked about the need for combating climate change and for redistributing the world’s wealth (although by that he didn’t mean his own personal wealth would be available for redistribution- notation by Renfield).

Flaky Speaker of the U.S. House of Representatives Nancy Pelosi blamed both the CCP Wuhan virus and the California wildfires on climate change.

“Mother Earth is mad at us!” Said the San Francisco Congresswoman while sporting a Medusa serpentine hairdo.

Likewise conceited, pompous and arrogant California Gov. Gavin Newsom blamed the California wildfires on climate change.

Just as the latest California wildfire was being started by fireworks going off at a gender reveal party in the woods.

Certainly one fiery revelation to say the least!

At the Davos Forum in Switzerland earlier this year, George Soros told participants that this year must mark the start of the “Great Reset”.

Now George Soros, Bill Gates, American economist Jeffrey Sachs and U-2 singer Bono were in a Zoom video conference with Pope Francis.

“Gentlemen,” Pope Francis held his hammer and sickle crucifix given him as a gift by Evo Morales the former Marxist President of Bolivia, “I have asked Hades to release three spirits from Tartarus for an entire year to help us as we launch the Great Reset.”

The ghosts of Lenin, Stalin and Mao Tse-tung stepped forward into the room where the Unholy Father was addressing his fellow Zoom conference participants.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday September 18th
2020.

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Huchuysisa At Luxor

August 12, 2020 at 11:10 pm (Film, Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, History, International Intrigue, Mythology, News, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , )


The Inca Vampiress Huchuysisa standing in front of one of the pillars of the Temple of Luxor

The Inca vampiress Huchuysisa stood alongside one of the pillars of the Temple of Luxor.

Approaching her was the ghost of Orson Welles who was walking with the ghost of a man who looked to be dressed in the garb of a classical Greek warrior.

Welles’ ghost was wearing spectral dark sunglasses and appeared to have lost weight the past week by a steady diet of spectral vegan plant based camelburgers.

“Look who I’ve found,” Welles’ ghost flashed a wide smile as he took off his spectral sunglasses.

“Who?” Huchuysisa asked.

“The ghost of Alexander the Great,” Welles introduced the ancient Greek king and conquerer, “Apparently the Greek god Zeus asked his brother Hades to release Alex from the realm of Hades back in January. Hades consented and Alex had gone on a Mediterranean cruise to see what the modern Mediterranean looked like. And wouldn’t you know it, this wretched CCP virus (which WHO has mandated everyone should call the Covid-19 virus so that’s why I’m not doing it) struck. Poor Alex’s ship was sailing aimlessly for months. It was finally allowed to dock in Alexandria after Alexander had to bribe a whole bunch of officials with a bunch of rare and valuable ancient Greek drachma coins that Charon the Styx river ferryman had neglected to remove from Alex’s mouth when he was crossing the Rivers Styx and Acheron after kicking the bucket centuries ago.”

“What is Alexander doing here at Luxor?” Huchuysisa asked.

“He’s come to see the Temple of Luxor where he had himself crowned Pharaoh of Egypt centuries ago,” Welles replied as he lit a spectral Cuban cigar.

“But some scholars claim he was never actually crowned Pharaoh of Egypt here,” Huchuysisa pointed out, “That he never got south of Memphis. That he was only crowned conceptually and not in person here. He got himself crowned conceptually at Luxor since being crowned Pharaoh at Luxor was the Egyptian Pharaohonic thing to do. And Alexander wanted to do it.”

“Is that true, Alex?” Welles’ ghost pulled a large spectral bottle of red wine out of his coat pocket.

“I don’t know,” Alexander’s ghost shrugged, “I can’t remember. I drank a little from the River Lethe (the river of forgetfulness in the Underworld). Not as much as my fellow spectral travellers who were with me did. I do remember much but there’s quite a bit I have forgotten.”

“I wonder,” Welles’ ghost poured himself a spectral glass of spectral red wine, “if Joe Biden ever stumbled and bumbled his way down to the River Lethe in the Underworld and mistaking it for the Pierian Spring, he drank deeply from it.”

The winged horse Pegasus flew by the vampiress and the ghostly duo.

Meanwhile down in his basement, Joe Biden mistaking his pot smoking cactus plant (which was a gift to him from some crazy Australian named Uncle Ernie who had taken way too many cuttings off his adopted nephew’s pet pot cactus plants) for his wife asked the plant, “Dear, who was it I named my Vice-Presidential running mate again? I’ve forgotten.”

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday August 12th
2020.

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Hi’ iaka’s Dance and Song: Dutchman On The Rocks

July 13, 2020 at 10:40 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, History, International Intrigue, Mythology, News, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , )

“The time seems to be growing short!”
Poseidon said to his brother Hades
as he noticed sands through the centuries’ long hourglass
starting to run out.
“I wonder if I should send the sirens close to that ship
to beckon the Dutchman towards his final Stygian port!”
Poseidon stroked his beard and twiddled his trident.

“The sirens have long surpassed their quota of bringing ships in
towards their final Stygian ports,” Hades put on his spectacles
to browse the latest accounting report and statement
put together by his own personal infernal accountant,
“That Dutchman is a braggart and a fool.
He’ll offend somebody and when the final dice is rolled,
They whoever they may be will summon the Dutchman towards his final Stygian port.”

Captain Hendrick Van Der Decken
stood at the wheel of the Flying Dutchman
It had been a long time
since that fatal year of 1641
when he had blasphemed Christ
and thrown his Crucifix into the sea
after having sold his soul to the Devil
in the waters of the Cape of Good Hope
off South Africa

Hendrick had long since given up on the idea
of ever making landfall again
To sail ocean waters until Doomsday
he had accepted as his fate

An albatross with an arrow stuck in its feathered breast
landed on the ship’s wheel
and squawked like a parrot,
“You’re never going to make landfall until the Apocalypse,
You’re never going to make landfall until the Apocalypse!”.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Captain Van Der Decken grimaced.

“All right, the square root of pi is… oh, my God, I’ve forgotten!
The square root of pi is… oh, my God I’ve forgotten!”.
And with that the albatross spread its wings
and flew off
Presumably in search of an electronic calculator
or one positively mesmerizing abacus.

“Thanks for nothing!” Van Der Decken spit into the wind
And the wind returned the favour.
A huge splash of wave wiped off the spit.

The Captain followed a star in the heavens
Unbeknownst to him, the star was the comet NEOWISE
haunting the early morning sky in various parts of the world

His ship came within sight of Hawaii
And there on the rocks off shore
danced Hi’iaka the Hawaiian goddess of dance
She danced the hula and sang a sweet lovely song

Hendrick felt a stirring in his loins
Something he hadn’t experienced in centuries
and he steered the ship’s wheel in the direction of the song
and the sight of the heavenly vision

Hi’iaka’s elder sister Pele the goddess of volcanoes and fire
was offended by the Captain’s look of lust
and blew her top

Lava and molten rock
struck the ship Flying Dutchman
and broke it apart
The ship’s wheel and the Captain
landed on the rock
On which Hi’iaka danced the hula

As Hi’iaka danced,
she smiled
and wagged her finger
at the Captain
and said,
“No lei for you.”

And with that Captain Hendrick Van Der Decken
fell back below the surface of the waves
there to be ferried across the River Styx
and growled at on the shore
by the 3-headed dog Cerberus.

-A supernatural narrative poem
and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday July 13th
2020.

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The Fire and The Manuscript

July 12, 2020 at 10:51 pm (Ghost Story, Mystery, Mystery/horror, News, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , )

He had bought an old typewriter from the 1940s in an old antique store.

He placed it down at a desk he no longer used.

His main desk had a PC at it.

His dinner table had a laptop located in front of the chair that neither he nor any of his potential guests ever sat at during meals.

A tablet was by his arm chair in front of the TV.

And of course his smart phone was in his pants pocket ready for his beck and call.

As he went to bed that night, he thought he had heard the sound of typing.

But he ignored it.

Everytime he woke up, he thought he heard the sound of typing.

But again ignored it.

When he woke up the next morning, he was shocked to discover a manuscript for a screen play alongside the old typewriter.

It looked to be freshly typed.

. . .

The ghost of Orson Welles sat in an armchair in the living room of the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set’s colossal London mansion.

He was watching television while Set’s butler and valet Athelstan dusted the furniture.

The BBC was reporting on a fire that had devastated the San Gabriel Mission Church in California founded by Saint Junipero Serra.

“Horrific,” Athelstan commented as he looked at the screen.

“Very,” Welles’ ghost agreed.

“You have a far away look in your eyes, Mr. Welles,” Athelstan noted.

“I once met Ernest Hemingway,” Welles recounted, “And he told me that he had written a screenplay of all things. He wanted me to see it. The screenplay was for a supernatural thriller in which demons would be walking the earth in a time of plague and pestilence. He didn’t tell me too much about his script. But he did mention one scene where the San Gabriel Mission Church is destroyed by fire. Ironically enough, the manuscript for that screenplay was destroyed by fire. Hemingway never did try to rewrite it.”

. . .

The owner of the antique typewriter looked at the title page of the manuscript.

What first caught his eye were the words “by Ernest Hemingway”.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday July 12th 2020.

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Aphrodite: Pearl of The Meditteranean

July 9, 2020 at 10:49 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, International Intrigue, Mythology, News, Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , )

The ghost of the Emperor Napoleon Bonaparte had managed to convince Hades and Persephone to let him out of the Underworld for a while and let him wander the Earth.

The Earth was in the throes of chaos thanks to the Covid-19 virus and the global lockdown as well as ongoing Neo-Bolshevik insurrectionary riots and neo-Jacobin French Revolutionary Reign of Terror tactics going on in the United States of America.

It was just such a period of chaos and turmoil in France during the last decade of the 18th Century that had allowed Napoleon to come to power in France and eventually make himself Emperor of the French in the 1st decade of the 19th Century.

Now Napoleon wished to wander the earth to see who would emerge as the absolute ruler of the hour in this time of chaos.

He was currently walking the streets of Rome (the city he had made his son Napoleon II the King of).

He was quite startled to see an elk walking the streets of Rome.

The elk headed towards the colosseum and entered it.

Strange, the ex-Emperor thought to himself.

He had seen a few peculiar things in Rome back in the day but not that.

. . .

The Egyptian god Horus flew through the streets of London.

Horus had spent over 1500 years as a disembodied spirit after he had been decapitated by King Arthur’s sword Excalibur (capable of slaying immortals).

His spirit on and off had possessed the bodies of various mortal men during that time period but as soon as his mortal host’s body had kicked the bucket, he was left finding a new body to enter.

Now however the Chinese company Huawei had managed to invent a robotic falcon (a robot with all the capabilities and powers inherent in a falcon of nature but one that was immortal having been made from everlasting mineral materials).

A quick call from Horus’ new partner George Soros (The Horus-Soros Alliance had been negotiated by the ghost of Aleister Crowley in-between his incessant screaming as he roasted away on a barbeque spit down in Tartarus) to Soros’ good friend the Chinese Communist paramount leader Xi Jinping and Huawei had provided Horus with just the right robotic falcon body for his spirit to enter.

Now he was flying the streets of London in search of his prey.

Damn, Horus thought to himself.

With this Covid-19 pandemic going on, many people were wearing masks.

How would he able to recognize his prey if his prey was wearing a mask?

. . .

Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing was walking on a beach on the island of Cyprus.

There were reports that a giant oyster shell had washed up on this beach and Dracul’s friend Peter Whitstable (the man they call the Fox Mulder of Interpol) had asked him to investigate.

The shell was spotted near an open fire on the beach.

Van Helsing and his friend the ghost of Orson Welles approached the fire.

The giant oyster was being cooked over the open fire by the Greek god Dionysus.

“Do you know if a pearl also came with this shell?” Van Helsing asked the now thoroughly inebriated Greek deity (who had in a single night saved the Cypriot wine making industry from financial disaster).

“Hic! Hic! Hic!” Dionysus replied, “I was told by a gypsy wench that a pearl of great price was in the shell but that pearl of great price up and walked away.”

“It’s Dionysus vs. Christ! Don’t you understand?” The ghost of Friedrich Nietzsche spoke to the ghosts of Jean-Paul Sartre and Albert Camus as the 3 philosophers sat like bumps on a log on a log further down the beach.

Van Helsing and the ghost of Orson Welles returned to their hotel room.

There the Greek goddess Aphrodite (who was the pearl of great price from the oyster shell) was waiting for Van Helsing.

The ghost of Orson Welles was once again forced to shut his eyes as Van Helsing carried on with a goddess.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday July 9th
2020.

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Atargatis In Alexandria

June 27, 2020 at 10:28 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, International Intrigue, Mythology, News, Poetry, Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , )

In the courtyard of the Royal Alexandria Hotel
she sat
the Syro-Phoenician goddess Atargatis
on a late June evening in 1939

Although the sands of time
In various hourglasses
kept turning over
This way and that

The Egyptian god Thoth passed by
holding keys of Time
She saw a man named Quentin Talbot
encounter Thessalonike of Macedon
The half-sister of Alexander the Great
a couple of nights ago in the hotel ballroom

Then the scene shifted to a beach at Dunwich in Suffolk
where Thessalonike was about to sacrifice Quentin
to the old Celtic gods
on a June evening in 2020.

Dracul Van Helsing arrived to save Quentin
from being sacrificed
The next thing Atargatis knew
was she saw Van Helsing
making out with her own daughter Semiramis
In the upper bedroom
Of a Dunwich pub and inn.

Seated in an armchair and holding a spectral glass of spectral red wine
And watching the mortal-immortal sexual encounter on the bed
Was the ghost of Orson Welles
Who said,
Being a peep and watching this makes me feel like King Leer
A voyeur of some importance.

The scene vanished again
And she saw Adolf Hitler encountering Josef Stalin
In an Egyptian tomb
that had been transferred to the dungeon of Castle Dracula
in Transylvania

Hitler and Stalin were playing a chess game
For controlling America in the year 2020
The young Chinese Communist revolutionary Mao Tse-tung
dropped by
And told Hitler to use his white knight to crush a black pawn

Der Fuhrer like all racists
thought all Asians looked the same
And mistaking Mao for one of his Japanese allies
followed the future Chairman Mao’s advice

Stalin moved in for the kill
As Mao applauded
General Robert E. Lee’s battle flag of Northern Virginia
went up in flames across a map of the American south
Followed by the Stars and Stripes going up in flames
Across a map of the entire United States of America
Soon to be replaced by the Hammer and Sickle.

Atargatis leaned back on her chaise lounge as the combined scorpion and Phoenix fan above her kept her cool

A shadow fell across her.
She opened her eyes.
“Van Helsing, I presume?”
She said to the man standing alongside the chaise lounge.

Orson Welles’ ghost found himself in the Royal Alexandria Hotel courtyard
“Once again, I’m a witness… I’m a witness…”
He rang the bell alongside his chaise lounge
to summon the hotel porter to bring him a glass of red wine.

-A narrative poem
and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday June 27th
2020.

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Renfield and The Ghosts of Uncle Ernie In Three Temporal Locations

May 15, 2020 at 10:57 pm (Fantasy, Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, Humour, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , )

Renfield and The Ghosts of Uncle Ernie In Three Temporal Locations

“To be a pirate king, to be a pirate king,
it is, it is a glorious thing to be a pirate king,
To steal the lordly ring, to steal the lordly ring,
it is, it is a glorious thing to steal the lordly ring, 
To be able to shower and sing, to be able to shower and sing 
it is, it is a glorious thing to be able to shower and sing …”

Renfield fell asleep after singing his song in an attempt at a home musical operetta podcast after having butchered the lyrics of the Gilbert and Sullivan operetta The Pirates of Penzance.

He was awakened by an apparition identifying itself as The Ghost of Uncle Ernie Past.

“I’ve never heard of you,” Renfield blinked, “What happened to Christmas Past?”.

“It’s long past,” Uncle Ernie explained, “We’re now approaching the middle of May. I’m here to show you the past.”

“My past?” Renfield asked.

“No, mine,” Uncle Ernie grabbed Renfield’s hand in violation of social distancing protocols and took him back to Australia in the mid-1980s to a living room.

“What is this place?” Renfield asked.

“I have no idea,” Uncle Ernie answered, “but the TV commercial for my kids’ birthday party balloon sculpture business is about to come on.”

The commercial shows a group of kids dancing around Uncle Ernie who’s wearing a clown costume.

Kids (singing): 
Uncle Ernie we love you, 
To us, you are a star,
Uncle Ernie we love you 
and what you keep in your candy jar.

“And was your business a success?” Renfield inquired.

“Sadly,” Uncle Ernie had tears in his eyes, “I wound up in jail right after this first commercial aired. The Sydney police decided to investigate just what it was I had in that candy jar. And while I was behind bars, what I had in that candy jar was passed around to a night time sitting of the Australian Senate. The Hansard minutes of that particular Senate session are still marked Confidential and Top Secret to this day for some reason.”

Renfield woke up and found himself in a pub in downtown Sydney.

“I’m the ghost of Uncle Ernie Present,” Uncle Ernie smiled as he downed another beer.

“Australia in May 2020?” Renfield looked around, “But aren’t there any lockdown measures in place?”.

“Not in joints owned by the inscrutable Mr. Inn Lu,” an elderly Asian gentleman dressed like Confucius bowed to them, “The authorities leave me alone. Here are the lap dancers you ordered, Ernie. Ming Ling and Ding Dong.”

Ding Dong sat on Renfield’s lap, “The last time I sat on your lap, Uncle Ernie, you didn’t have much of a dong to ding.”

“Well I never,” Uncle Ernie protested.

“That’s probably the truest thing you’ve ever said in your life, Uncle Ernie,” Ming Ling giggled.

After an hour of ecstatic bliss, Renfield was awakened by the sound of Big Ben ding donging.

Which was strange since Big Ben was currently under repair.

“I am the Ghost of Uncle Ernie to come,” said Uncle Ernie.

“Oh, Uncle Ernie, you’re such a liar,” Ming Ling giggled, “you never come.”

Uncle Ernie’s face turned red as the apparition vanished into the night.

“I need to stop eating those Australian candies,” Renfield remarked as he slid under his computer desk and into oblivion.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday May 15th 2020

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Is Kim Jong-un On His Death Bed?

April 25, 2020 at 10:04 pm (Arts, Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, International Intrigue, News, Poetry, Short play, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , )

Is Kim Jong-un On His Death Bed?

“The most compelling empirical evidence to date that North Korea’s Kim Jong-un might indeed be lying on his deathbed is Donald Trump’s recent statement that reports of Kim having a serious illness are “gross exaggerations” and “fake news”.

-Renfield R. Renfield MP

Kim Jong-un was lying on top of his bed in his best suit (he didn’t want to be caught wearing clothes that he wouldn’t want to be found dead in).

“Egg foo yung,” Kim whispered in a somewhat audible voice, “Egg foo yung.”

“He really should have better scriptwriters in my opinion,” commented the ghost of Orson Welles who had Charles Foster Kane saying the word “Rosebud” on his death bed.

Orson’s ghost had somehow managed to evade the spirits of Kim’s ancestors to enter the North Korean Presidential Palace and Kim’s Presidential suite bedroom.

A group of beautiful young North Korean women wearing lovely colourful dresses knelt at the bottom of the portly young Kim’s bed and wailed like a Greek chorus mourning the death of Adonis in a Classical Greek tragedy.

A gong sounded and the beautiful North Korean women’s chorus immediately stopped wailing.

“Our shift is over, girls,” said the leader of the women.

They departed giggling and laughing and talked about what they might have for supper and who’d they be dating next weekend.

A new group of beautiful young North Korean women wearing lovely colourful dresses took positions at the bottom of the portly young Kim’s bed and resumed wailing.

. . .

Kim Yo-jong (the younger sister of Kim Jong-un) stood in front of her mirror holding a bottle of Corona beer in one hand and a diamond, emerald, sapphire and jade laced golden crown in the other.

Kim Yo-jong (speaking) :

Does the hand of Fate bequeath a new crown?
As Thanatos smiles behind a silent frown?
Has a golden corona struck down a King so a Queen may reign?
An Olympic garland wreath comes to me via a crown spoken in Spain?
I call upon the spirits of my ancestors to bless me 
as a new journey I may undertake.
America’s trump has sounded from one whose golden crown is densely fake.
Yet will a disinfectant injection into my brother’s lungs will he take?

-A vampire novel chapter
and neo-Shakespearean soliloquy
written by Christopher
Saturday April 25th
2020 

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A Demon Virus and The Resulting Fiery Winds of Change

April 17, 2020 at 10:35 pm (Culture, Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, International Intrigue, News, Politics, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , )

A Demon Virus and The Resulting Fiery Winds of Change 

The ghosts of Abraham Lincoln and Confederate General Robert E. Lee (once old enemies in their mortal lives) sat on the steps of the U. S. Capitol.

“And so it begins again,” Lee and Lincoln remarked sadly both at the same time.

In the Oval Office, Donald Trump was firing off Twitter tweets LIBERATE MINNESOTA, LIBERATE MICHIGAN and LIBERATE VIRGINIA with the same level of enthusiasm as the forces of Confederate General P.G.T. Beauregard fired on Fort Sumter on April 12th 1861.

Washington state’s Governor Jay Inslee accused Donald Trump of “fomenting domestic rebellion and spreading lies”.

The spectral ghostly figure of an 8 foot tall giant mammalian bat with the head of a Thanatotheristes (the name meant Reaper of Death in Greek and referred to a new species of T-Rex that had been discovered in the Western Canadian province of Alberta in 2010) who was the demon of the Covid-19 Coronavirus strolled down the streets of Washington DC.

Remarked Lincoln with more than a hint of that melancholy that had affected him his entire mortal life, “What God and my earthly work has joined together, a virus will now put asunder.”

. . .

“So you think a 2nd American Civil War is coming?” Amadeus Emanon asked his friend British MP Renfield R. Renfield via Skype.

“It looks like it,” said Renfield, “and the lines this time around will be blurry and not distinct. In the original civil war you could tell who was who by the uniform they were wearing – blue or grey – and the flag they were flying – Union or Confederate. They say sickness can sometimes be the final straw that ends family relationships. And now a pandemic will end a national relationship. The political and ideological divide among Americans has been growing for decades and particularly accelerated in the last decade. This pandemic is just finally pushing that divide over the edge and beyond the point of no return.”

“So, what is basically going on?” Amadeus ate a potato chip.

“You’ve got Donald Trump who thinks of himself more as a Caesar and a Roman Emperor than a President. You’ve got a whole bunch of Democratic Party state governors who are Menshevik or Antonio Gramscian cultural Marxists at their best or outright Bolsheviks at their worst. Many of them have been taking extra draconian measures in this pandemic particularly when it comes to persecuting people for their religious beliefs. One California county is even telling churches they’re not allowed to sing on their livestream services after they had already shut down their public worship services. A lot of U.S. Democrats show the same hostility towards belief in God as the old USSR did in days of old and as Xi Jinping’s Communist China does today. So a lot of Americans are fed up and have taken to the streets in protest. Trump as the new American Julius Caesar (who is not as intelligent as the old Roman Julius Caesar) is hoping to use his popularity with the plebs against the old elites (which was the same with the original Big Julius) to smash the Menshiviks and the Bolsheviks and make himself Emperor – something the original Big Julius failed to do and it was left to his nephew and adopted son Octavius to become Emperor as Caesar Augustus.”

“This whole thing could become quite the cataclysmic event then,” Amadeus noted.

“And the only real winner would be the current regime in Beijing,” Renfield reached for his home delivery Chinese food order that sat on plates in front of him.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher 
Friday April 17th
2020

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Yaldabaoth’s Vision On His Way To The Big Apple

March 26, 2020 at 10:57 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, History, Horror, International Intrigue, magic, Mystery/horror, Mythology, News, Sorcery, The Occult, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , )

Yaldabaoth’s Vision On His Way To The Big Apple

Athelstan the butler and valet to the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set was having a conversation with British MP Renfield R. Renfield.

Both men were 6 meters away from one another so they wouldn’t be shot by killer drones recently commandeered by WHO (the World Health Organization) for those who violated the world body’s social distancing rules.

Athelstan was also wearing a face mask.

Although whether this was because he feared getting the Coronavirus or because he had just cleaned out the kitty litter box belonging to Nefertiti Galore (the vampire Set’s fiercely protective house cat) is a matter for speculation.

“So, Mr. Renfield,” Athelstan coughed through his face mask, “I hear that Virginia Gov. Ralph Northam issued an Executive Order this past Monday making it a criminal offense to hold a Church service with more than 10 people present. If found guilty, people could be imprisoned for 12 months and/or fined $2,500.”

“I imagine,” Renfield lit his pipe, “that the Baal and Baphomet worshipping Marxist despot Ralph Northam was positively ejaculating in ecstasy and orgasm at being able to sign such an Executive Order. I don’t imagine he’ll ever bother rescinding it even when the pandemic is over.”

“Probably not, sir,” Athelstan dusted off a portrait painting of the late British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher dressed in a medieval Iron Maiden torture chamber item suit, “Did you hear that Pope Francis’ personally designated papal successor Luis Antonio Cardinal Tagle is saying let’s overcome the Coronavirus with a pandemic of love?”.

“Well,” Renfield sipped his pipe, “Isn’t that jackass just the epitome of romance?”.

. . .

Yaldabaoth the Irish leprechaun was flying a magic shamrock flying carpet from his rented farmhouse in Vermont to New York City.

Yaldabaoth had recently left Ireland after that country had closed all its pubs (As Yaldabaoth remarked at the time, “You know a world situation is serious when it forces Ireland to close all its pubs.”)

He had gone to Vermont hoping that the pubs would be open.

Many of them were closed but lucky for Yaldabaoth, there were plenty of Vermont country gentlemen who made their own moonshine.

Yaldabaoth rented his Vermont farmstead from another Irish leprechaun The Fantastic Flanigan.

The Fantastic Flanigan had the honour of being the world’s shortest UFC fighter.

He also had the honour of being the world’s only always defeated UFC fighter.

Generally all the other UFC fighters used the Fantastic Flanigan as practice for the day the old medieval sport of dwarf tossing was once again brought back into the world.

It so happened that the Fantastic Flanigan owned a flying carpet (made from magic shamrocks) so he had left it behind in the barn for Yaldabaoth to use.

Flanigan was currently spending his social isolation time at the Moonlite Bunny Ranch in Nevada.

As Yaldabaoth approached New York City, he was shocked to see the Big Apple surrounded by an army of Dullahans (A Dullahan was a black horse riding headless horseman of death).

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday March 26th
2020

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