Kurdish Dancers, Arabian Nights and No Turkish Delights

October 12, 2019 at 9:56 pm (Commentary, Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, International Intrigue, News, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , )

Kurdish Dancers, Arabian Nights and No Turkish Delights

British Prime Minister Boris Johnson was about to have a phone call with Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan regarding the Turkish invasion of northern Syria.

He decided to have Renfield R. Renfield his Deputy Foreign Secretary In Charge of Geopolitical Intelligence Gathering in the background during the call.

Renfield being Renfield would undoubtedly do or say something that would help pressure Erdogan during the phone call and encourage him to pull out of Turkey.

As Johnson began talking to Erdogan, Renfield began singing his own paraphrased version of the song Henry VIII an old time honoured British music hall song.

Renfield singing,

“I am Erdogan the last I am, I am,
I just gave syphilis to the neighbour next door,
I’ve given out syphilis several times before,
every dirty sperm is an Erdogan, 
ERDOGAN!
I’m Erdogan the last, I am, I am…”

“I hate the British!” Was Erdogan’s remark when he had finished the call with Johnson.

. . .

Saudi Crown Prince Mohammad bin Salman was in the kitchen of one of his palaces where the cooks were preparing bones and meat left over from the Prince’s various opponents who had encountered MbS’s janitorial maintenance cleaning crews throughout the world.

“All these dishes are being prepared for the right guest,” MbS proudly told the ghost of Lady MacBeth who served as his spirit advisor.

“I see more American troops are arriving in Saudi Arabia,” Lady MacBeth commented.

“Yes, rather splendid of Trump to pull his troops out of Syria and start sending his troops over here to the Kingdom,” MbS smiled.

“Nothing like stabbing the Kurds in the back,” remarked the ghost of Brutus (who had stabbed Julius Caesar) as he ran by while being chased by Cerberus after he had temporarily escaped from the Underworld.

. . .

Donald Trump was in a garden when he saw a beautiful brunette woman in an exquisite and lovely green evening dress dancing sensuously in the moonlight.

Trump looked around.

No sign of Melania or anyone else.

Trump smiled.

He walked towards the woman and decided to be his usual charming self in order to entice the woman to him.

“Birds do it, bees do it,” Trump began singing, “even dogs and trees do it…”

Trump approached the woman.

He decided to use that classic pick up line from the Peter Sellers movie There’s A Girl In My Soup, “My God, but you’re lovely…”

“I’m also Kurdish,” the woman with flashing dark eyes pulled a knife out from under her dress and stabbed him… in the front… a little due south.

Trump woke up in a sweat.

He suddenly thought he heard Middle Eastern music being played from the White House garden.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday October 12th
2019

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Margarita Carmen Cansino, Orson Welles and Jack Benny

September 21, 2019 at 11:04 pm (Culture, Entertainment, Film, Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, History, International Intrigue, Movies, News, Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , )

Margarita Carmen Cansino, Orson Welles and Jack Benny 

The Norse trickster god Loki sat at the controls of the CERN Large Hadron Collider in Switzerland.

He had just finished sampling a month’s supply of Chemical of The Day Club (as opposed to Book of The Month Club) samples sent to him by a friend in Australia who went by the cheery sounding name of Uncle Ernie.

With Uncle Ernie’s Chemicals of The Day fully in control of his mind, Loki was now creating many a time warp down at CERN.

With Liberace and Olivia Newton John performing a duet of the song Let’s Do The Time Warp Again (from The Rocky Horror Picture Show) in the background, Loki was doing much temporal mischief.

The ghost of Orson Welles (who currently lived as a spectral guest in the colossal London mansion of the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set where, along with the ghost of Sir Winston Churchill, he served as a spirit advisor to British MP Renfield R. Renfield) found himself sent back in time to the year 1935.

Tears came to Welles’ spectral eyes when he saw the young Margarita Carmen Cansino (who was later forced by Hollywood studio producers to change her name to Rita Hayworth) standing there.

“I should have been a more loving husband to her,” Welles’ ghost sobbed as he ordered a bottle of Chardonnay from the studio gopher.

“I can’t believe the nerve of that white guy who wanted to audition for the role of Charlie Chan,” Margarita Carmen Cansino shook her head.

“Would that have been Warner Oland?” Welles asked.

“No,” Rita shook her head, “Some non-talented entity from up in Canada who had listed High School Drama Teacher in Vancouver on his resume.”

Welles’ ghost went over to the next studio where the great American comic actor Jack Benny was holding auditions for his next movie.

Some obviously white guy wearing blackface stood on stage at the microphone.

“Hi,” said the man, “My name is Justin Trudeau and I’d like to audition for the role of Rochester.”

“Someone get that bum out of here,” Benny remarked.

Cerberus the 3-headed dog from the Underworld of Hades chased the Rochester wannabe off stage.

Welles began returning to the year 2019 when Loki hit another control at CERN.

As Welles whizzed through the year 1968, he encountered a newspaper boy shouting, “Read all about it. Peter Sellers beats out a Canadian for the role of Hrundi V. Bakshi in the movie The Party.”

Welles went back momentarily to the year 1965 where Mel Brooks the Executive Producer of the TV series Get Smart was remarking, “I don’t even want that Drama teacher auditioning for this role never mind getting it,” as a KAOS villain shouts, “Not Claw, Craw!”.

Welles eventually landed back in 2019 where he arrived in the Set Mansion living room as Amadeus was watching the 2016 remake of The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday September 21st
2019.

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The Jeffraken Rises In The Sea of Galilee

September 4, 2019 at 11:04 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, History, Horror, International Intrigue, Mystery, Mystery/horror, News, The Occult, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , )

The Jeffraken Rises In The Sea of Galilee 

British MP Renfield R. Renfield was smoking a cigar and drinking brandy and eating tuna fish sandwiches in his office and trying to think up hundreds of amendments to give to pro-Brexit peers in the House of Lords in order to delay passage of the bill forbidding a no-deal Brexit until Parliament was suspended next week.

Among the amendments Renfield had come up with for the bill was a demand that the EU should change the European Union anthem from the tune and lyrics of Beethoven’s Song of Joy to the tune and lyrics of the Monty Python’s Flying Circus song How Sweet To Be An Idiot.

Another amendment was a demand that the EU must pay for Labour leader Jeremy Corbyn’s gender reassignment surgery in Sweden and also donate a portion of the European Union’s Research and Development Budget to allocate funds to see if it was scientifically possible for Jeremy Corbyn to grow himself a pair of testicles.

. . .

Peter Whitstable the man they call the Fox Mulder of Interpol was walking along the shores of the Sea of Galilee.

For the past few days, there were reports of the sighting of a Kraken rising from the Sea of Galilee.

Whitstable had heard it on good authority (from the Greek sea god Poseidon no less) that Zeus had recently ordered his Kraken to be released upon the world.

Whitstable was walking the shores of Galilee to see if this was Zeus’ kraken who was rising from the depths of the Sea of Galilee.

Suddenly there were huge screams coming from along the shores.

Whitstable looked and up rose from the waters a giant kraken with 8 huge gigantic legs covered in huge gigantic tentacles.

Even more terrifying was the head of the kraken.

For the head was not an octopus head.

Rather it was the head of the supposedly dead perverted billionaire financier and possible Mossad operative Jeffrey Epstein.

The Jeffraken had risen from the depths of the Sea of Galilee.

. . .

Dashwood Forrest was getting a visit from the ghost of the 18th Century Irish pirate of the Caribbean Captain Kerry Donegal.

Donegal was carrying news from Persephone the Greek goddess Queen of the Underworld.

Persephone was feeling guilty over something her husband Hades had done.

Hades had recently released from the realm of the dead the ghost of Captain Rainbow Beard the most infamous and bloodthirsty pirate ever to sail the 7 Seas.

Captain Rainbow Beard made the pirate Blackbeard and the notorious wife murderer Bluebeard look like Boy Scouts by comparison.

Captain Rainbow Beard was a devout worshipper of the demons Baal and Baphomet.

His human sacrifices and degenerate perverted orgies were the stuff of pirate lore.

Today he’d probably be considered the leading candidate for the U.S. Democratic Party Presidential nomination in 2020 to run against Donald Trump the personal and favoured choice of the demons Mammon and Mephistopheles.

Apparently Captain Rainbow Beard was still bitter about the only defeat he had ever suffered as a pirate- the Battle of the Bahamas.

A battle which would turn out to be Captain Rainbow Beard’s last- for he was killed in that battle.

Rainbow Beard’s opponents in that battle were Captain Kerry Donegal himself and the 18th Century Scottish Jacobite Pirate Queen Sonja Henderson (who was turned into a vampiress shortly after that battle).

All the while he was roasting away on his spit in Tartarus (as his rear end was sodomized by a goat), Captain Rainbow Beard swore vengeance on the Bahamas- the area of the world where he was defeated and killed.

One day the god Hades was walking by and challenged him to a poker game.

Hades lost.

The price for losing was that Rainbow Beard was freed from his spit (and his rear end was freed from the goat) and someday the pirate would be allowed to leave the Underworld for the world above.

When Rainbow Beard heard news of the storm Dorian forming in the Atlantic off the coast of Africa and the possibility it might become a hurricane, the insidious pirate set off in search of the notorious Victorian era libertine Dorian Gray (whom Oscar Wilde had once written a book about) that he had once encountered in the flames of Tartarus.

Rainbow Beard gave Gray some Hellish hashish (which would make him more susceptible to the pirate’s hypnotic powers of suggestion) and also fed him some of the Philistine giant Goliath’s blood making him rapidly increase in stature and height.

Rainbow Beard then went to see Hades and the infernal deity granted the pirate and Dorian Gray permission to leave the Underworld.

Rainbow Beard got the now giant Dorian Gray to enter the eye of the storm of Hurricane Dorian and cause massive chaos and havoc when it hit the Bahamas- site of Captain Rainbow Beard’s massive defeat centuries earlier.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday September 4th
2019.

The 18th Century Scottish Jacobite Pirate Queen Sonja Henderson now a vampiress

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Dashwood Forrest, The Empty Portrait and Hurricane Dorian

September 3, 2019 at 11:01 pm (Aesthetics, Art, Arts, Fantasy, Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, Gothic, Gothic romance, History, Horror, International Intrigue, magic, Mystery, Mystery/horror, Mythology, News, Philosophy, The Occult, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , )

Dashwood Forrest, The Empty Portrait and Hurricane Dorian

Dashwood Forrest sat in his office in his art gallery in London and quietly sipped a drink of absinthe.

The Green Fairy as it was called was one of the favourite drinks of his idol the writer, novelist, poet and playwright Oscar Wilde.

Forrest’s living dead Irish manservant Mulligan the Irish zombie (who had been brought back from the dead many years ago by South African witch doctor Dr. Sterling Makabo) was out for the evening.

Mulligan had been hired for the evening by British MP Renfield R. Renfield to haunt the residence of British Labour Party leader Jeremy Corbyn and stand outside the back entrance of Corbyn’s lodgings and say in a spookily haunting zombie voice (with an Irish lilt to it), “The Irish backstop ends at your back door, Mr. Corbyn. The Irish backstop ends at your backdoor.”

As Jeremy Corbyn began to suffer the worst nightmares of his life, Forrest finished his glass of absinthe, left his office and locked it.

He walked down to the end of the gallery where he entered a room marked PRIVATE.

No one (not even Mulligan the Irish zombie) ever entered that room.

Only he Dashwood Forrest art historian, art gallery curator and extraordinary gentleman of many talents ever entered that room.

For that room contained a portrait behind purple velvet curtains.

A portrait of a man.

A portrait of a man painted in the year 1860.

A portrait that was first mentioned in a book published in July 1890.

A book that most people (and even Dashwood Forrest himself for most of his life) had considered a work of fiction.

Until Forrest came across the painting in an estate sale back in October of 2012.

The picture was of a man named… Dorian Gray.

And the artist who signed the picture was named Basil Hallward.

The painting was of an extremely handsome young man in his early 20s.

Exactly as described in Oscar Wilde’s famous Gothic Philosophical novel of the 19th Century- The Picture of Dorian Gray.

Forrest drew back the purple velvet curtains that covered the painting and hid it from view.

Forrest got the shock of his life when he saw the portrait was empty.

There was no subject in the painting.

Dorian Gray was gone.

. . .

Forrest stared blankly at the blank canvas and blinked.

His smart phone went off.

It was a text message from his friend Amadeus Emanon.

A Set Enterprises satellite over the Bahamas had photographed the eye of the storm of Hurricane Dorian.

And a giant mysterious almost human figure seemed to be standing and moving with the eye of the storm in the hurricane.

Forrest again blinked.

For the figure was the spitting image of Dorian Gray.

The figure now missing from the painting.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher 
Tuesday September 3rd
2019.


Sibyl: She loved Dorian in vain.

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Captain Kerry Donegal and The Ghost of Orson Welles

August 2, 2019 at 10:56 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, International Intrigue, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , )

Captain Kerry Donegal and The Ghost of Orson Welles

The ghost of Orson Welles was currently down at a cove on the coast of Cornwall.

He had recently been hired by Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell the executive CEO of London’s Aulos Music and Recording Ltd. to direct a music video that Campbell was planning to enter in a Gilbert and Sullivan Music Video Contest sponsored by the BBC.

Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell thought that he would have a greater chance of winning the contest if he got the director of Citizen Kane to direct a video for him.

Welles had never directed a music video during his earthly life so he agreed.

He had been told that Dracul Van Helsing had once taken a scene out of The Lady From Shanghai (in which Welles had appeared with Rita Hayworth) and added the lyrics of a song by Blackmore’s Night as background soundtrack to the scene because Dracul noticed the lyrics of the song seemed to fit in exactly with this particular scene of the movie.

Dracul wanted to show the world that Welles was a cinematographic genius whose visual imagery was so breathtakingly brilliant, he could even produce a masterpiece music video for the early 21st Century from a movie scene shot in the late 1940s.

However Dracul’s intent was lost on most of the imbeciles who watch YouTube videos (those who are in this decade small penis male SJWs posting idiotic comments on social networking sites such as Twitter).

Some clueless individual wrote, “Why would you do this to such a great scene?”.

Someone complained to the higher ups at YouTube about the video 9 years ago and it was removed.

After discussion with Van Helsing, Welles thanked the vampire hunter for believing that he Welles was more than capable of directing a brilliant music video.

Welles had lit a spectral cigar and ordered a glass of spectral red wine in a London pub recently and wondered what Gilbert and Sullivan song he should do a music video for?

It was then that the ghost of the 18th Century Irish pirate captain of the Caribbean Captain Kerry Donegal walked through the door.

As soon as Welles saw him, Welles resolved to do the song Pirate King from the Gilbert and Sullivan operetta The Pirates of Penzance.

And lucky for Welles, the ghost of Captain Kerry Donegal happened to have a very nice singing voice.

Donegal’s ghost agreed to do the video.

And so here was Welles down in a cove on the Cornish coast.

Captain Kerry Donegal’s ghost strolled into the waters of the cove cave and stood in front of a rocky entrance to the inlet with a replica of Donegal’s own pirate ship The Not So Green Shamrock in the background.

Donegal began singing, 

“Oh better far to live and die
Under the brave black flag I fly
Than play a sanctimonious part 
With a pirate head and pirate heart 
Away to the cheating world go you
Where pirates all are well-to-do;
But I’ll be true to the song I sing 
And live and die a Pirate King
For I am a Pirate King!
And it is, it is a glorious thing 
To be a Pirate King…”

At the same time as Welles was directing and shooting the scene with his movie cameras, Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell was also filming it on his smart phone.

The video recording was picked up by The Five Eyes Intelligence Network.

The video was flagged and sent to the U.S. NSA for analysis.

One of the leading NSA heads immediately went to Donald Trump to show him the video.

“What the (expletive deleted!)”, Trump said, “Those lines ‘Away to the cheating world go you Where pirates all are well-to-do’, never have I heard such a vicious attack on the best of American capitalism. That video must have been produced under the auspices of those four Democratic Congresswomen who really should be sent back to where they came from (if I only knew where that is) acting in collusion with Nicolas Maduro’s Venezuela.”

-A vampire novel chapter 
written by Christopher
Friday August 2nd 
2019.

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Renfield Meets Captain Kerry Donegal In The Oscar Wilde Pub

May 28, 2019 at 10:02 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, International Intrigue, Mythology, News, Politics, Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , )

British MP Renfield R. Renfield was sitting in a newly opened London pub called The Oscar Wilde.

He was planning his strategy to have his friend the Kraken Napoleon VI elected the new President of the European Union Commission.

Seeing as how German Chancellor Angela Merkel and French President Emmanuel Macron were in disagreement as to who should be the new EU Commission President, this allowed an opportunity for a rogue Brit like himself to put a Kraken into that position.

Seeing as how this was The Oscar Wilde Pub, Renfield decided to order himself a glass of absinthe as this was the favourite drink of such notorious writers and poets as Oscar Wilde and Charles Baudelaire and artist/painters such as Henri Toulouse-Lautrec and Amedeo Modigliano.

Seeing as how Renfield was neither an American Jesuit priest nor a leading U.S. Democratic Party politician nor a Hollywood bigwig, he ignored the fact that absinthe was also drunk by such satanic low-lifes as Aleister Crowley.

After 21 glasses of absinthe, Renfield was able to see spirits so as soon as the ghost of the 18th Century Irish pirate of the Caribbean Captain Kerry Donegal walked through the door, the MP invited him to sit down.

They introduced themselves to another and gave their respective backgrounds.

“So,” Renfield ordered another glass of absinthe, “you’re the pirate’s ghost that my psychic lobster friend Michelangelo saw ride that supposedly riderless horse Bodexpress at the Preakness Stakes?”.

“That was me all right,” the ghostly pirate blushed adding a little rouge to his overly white complexion, “I came in second from last.”

“We all have our embarassing moments,” Renfield recalled the lovely actress Gong Li turning him down for a date after he had asked her out in a crowded elevator.

“So how’s your political career going?” Captain Kerry Donegal asked.

“Well if Boris Johnson wins the leadership of the British Conservative Party in July and becomes Prime Minister of Britain,” Renfield ordered a tuna fish sandwich, “I’ll probably become Deputy Foreign Secretary In Charge of Geopolitical Intelligence Gathering and my parliamentary colleague and fellow Transhumanist MP the Welsh vampiress Morgana will probably become Deputy Home Secretary In Charge of Midnight Security.”

“Well, congratulations,” the pirate captain drank a toast in ghostly extra spirited absinthe.

“Still, I mustn’t count my chickens before they’re hatched,” Renfield helped himself to a plate of deviled eggs, “so what are your plans for the future?”.

“I haven’t quite decided,” Captain Kerry Donegal answered, “I moved out of 10 Downing Street last night after Prime Minister Theresa May invited me to watch the 1947 film The Ghost and Mrs. Muir starring Gene Tierney and Rex Harrison with her. After watching the film, I came to the conclusion that Mrs. May wanted to have a romantic affair with me so I left.”

“Yes, singing My Fair Lady to Gene Tierney isn’t so bad,” Renfield admitted, “singing it to Theresa May is another matter entirely.”

“By Liza, rather than sitting in the saddle to do little, I should have said to Bodexpress, move your bloomin’ ass,” the pirate captain reflected.

“And speaking of my fair lady, here comes my parliamentary colleague Morgana,” Renfield, after 23 glasses of absinthe, ran up to kiss her as she entered the pub.

“Why you predatory sexually harassing lecherous pervert,” Morgana said to him before kicking him out the door with one of her spiked stiletto high-heeled shoes.

“Absinthe makes the heart grow fonder,” were Renfield’s last words before succumbing to unconsciousness on the outdoor sidewalk.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday May 28th
2019.


Welsh vampiress Morgana: Not one to mess with

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The House On The Hill: A Poem

May 21, 2019 at 9:56 pm (Ghost Story, Gothic, Gothic poem, Gothic romance, Poetry) (, , )

The house on the hill was haunted they say
That common belief helped keep people away
Only the brave ventured to play
At the house overlooking Appleton Way

What happened that night many years ago
whispered by people who claimed to know
was loud shots in the night
a desperate search for a light
A woman’s screams
Lace curtains falling at the seams
And then silence fell
No more would dwell
in that house on the hill
Tenancy rate fell to nil

Those who ventured inside that place above Appleton Way
would always return with their hair white or gray
even though their hair colour did not start out that way
when they ventured forth at the break of the day

Their mistake was not in returning before the sun set
Nightfall should have told them, this was no place to let
Visiting the place subject of many a bet
while dark mystery remains at the heart of the Net

It was with this in mind that young Rousseau set out
On a night when the wind was howling about
Dark clouds rolled in
The night blacker than sin
Lightning flashed
Thunder crashed

And of course the door of the house would naturally be opened wide
And Rousseau stepped across the threshold to where the unseen did abide
And Rousseau came face to face with the ghostly vision there
While rainy lightning in the window flashed glowing white glare

Rousseau’s thought then was different from what he had at the start of the day
With this supernatural life and supernatural sight he felt inclined to stay
So now he too inhabits the house above Appleton Way.

-A poem written by Christopher
Tuesday May 21st 2019.

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Ghost of Orson Welles Meets Belvedere In Istanbul

May 6, 2019 at 9:40 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, International Intrigue, News, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , )

The ghost of Orson Welles was sitting in a cafe in Istanbul.

He had been told by a Russian spy beluga whale whom he had helped to defect to Norway this past weekend that the lovely mermaid Miranda when swimming through the Bosphorus Strait would often shapeshift into full human form and visit the Marmara Cafe in downtown Istanbul of which she loved the Turkish coffee being served there.

Welles could never recall meeting an actual mermaid in his past mortal life or current ghostly life so he decided to come to Istanbul and visit the Marmara Cafe on the off chance that he might meet Miranda.

Welles sat at a back table in the corner of the cafe and sipped a glass of spectral red wine occasionally glancing at the entrance to see if any woman who might be a mermaid in full human form came walking through the door.

He recited William Butler Yeats’ Sailing To Byzantium as he sat,

“… And therefore have I sailed the seas and come
To the holy city of Byzantium. ”

“Orson!” A voice shouted from the doorway.

It was the voice of Belvedere the ghost of a ghost white salamander.

Belvedere had been human but back in the mid-1880s in the American Wild West had been turned into a ghost white salamander through an ancient Egyptian spell cast by a gypsy woman who worked in the Wild West saloon where he worked as a bartender.

He became the ghost of a ghost white salamander when he crawled outside and was run over by a settlers’ ox cart heading west.

The first and last time Belvedere saw Welles was back in October 1938 just prior to the then Boy Wonder delivering his famous Halloween War of The Worlds broadcast.

“Belvedere,” the ghost of Orson Welles lit a spectral cigar, “Long time no see.”

“I see we’re both ghosts now,” Belvedere sat across from the spectral cinematic talent.

“Such are the ravages of time,” Welles blew rosebud shaped smoke rings, “unless we be vampires, vampiresses, gods, goddesses or immortal dominatrixes who have eaten just the right amount of Lingzhi supernatural mushrooms, we must all succumb to the hands of the scythe wielding spectre Death there to see our flesh melt and our bones turned to dust and our spirits wandering earth, purgatory or paradise until such time as our bodies and souls are reunited into a new transformed whole on the Day of Judgment.”

“Eloquent as ever, my friend,” Belvedere was impressed.

“So, what are you doing these days?” Welles sipped his wine, “What brings you to Istanbul?”.

“I am now a reporter for The Times of London,” the ghost white salamander answered, “I’m here on assignment. Turkey’s chief electoral body has ordered that Istanbul’s local elections be re-held after President Recep Tayyip Erdogan’s Islamist AK Party lost to the opposition secularist CHP Party after a shock opposition victory this past March.”

“It is indeed a hatchet in the cake of dictatorship when the trappings of democracy come crashing down just as the cake is being wheeled into the banquet hall where Ottoman Sultans once dined and harem girls once danced,” Welles helped himself to spectral caviar and spread it on a spectral slice of bread.

“Erdogan is indeed upset about the whole thing,” Belvedere agreed, “He himself used to be Mayor of Istanbul many years ago.”

“Such is the power of the spirit of Byzantium,” Welles drank a toast, “that this city can survive the misrule of a petty despot such as Erdogan.”

“Istanbul’s new CHP Mayor Ekrem Imamoglu is confident that he can win again in the re-held election,” Belvedere remarked.

“Beware the sting of scorpions and the fangs of serpents,” Welles’ baritone voice shook the cafe, “for my friends who still fast in the fires of Purgatory inform me that Lady MacBeth’s ghost serves as an advisor to Erdogan.”

“Great Scot! And great Caesar’s ghost!” Belvedere’s ghostly white face turned even more ghostly white, “Lady MacBeth!”.

“Never was a Film Noir Femme Fatale more femme fatalish than Lady MacBeth as the Bard so adeptly captured her personality, soul and spirit in his Scottish Play,” Welles raised his finger in the air to capture the direction the Mid-East winds were blowing, “for she serves not only as advisor to Erdogan but advisor to Saudi Crown Prince Mohammad bin Salman as well. Tantalizing both claimants to a future Caliphate. Playing one side against the other. Stringing both together as if playing on a harp whose strings are made of human sinews.”

Belvedere decided to change to a cheerier subject.

“Have you ever watched Game of Thrones?” Belvedere asked.

“I have never watched an episode in full,” Welles confessed, “I have watched segments of certain programs on YouTube.”

“What do you think?” Belvedere inquired.

“What do I think?” Welles lit another spectral cigar, inhaled and then exhaled smoke rings like dragons, “I think Game of Thrones captures what the world of Medieval Europe would have been like if there had been no figure of Christ at the center of the culture of Medieval Europe.”

“Really?” Belvedere pondered this thought.

“In such a Medieval Europe,” Welles took the final sip of what remained of his glass, “Every ruler would be able to say… we are all Lady MacBeth.”

As a woman in another corner of the cafe claimed to have just given birth to dragons, the ghost of Lady MacBeth entered the cafe’s entrance still carrying stains of blood on her spectral formerly mortal hands.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday May 6th 2019
Orson Welles’ 104th
birthday.

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The Ghost of Orson Welles and The Russian Spy Beluga Whale Defector To Norway

May 3, 2019 at 10:17 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, International Intrigue, Mythology, News, Radio, Spy Tales, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

While British MP Renfield R. Renfield was in Thailand to attend the coronation ceremony of King Maha Vajiralongkorn, his spirit advisors the ghosts of Orson Welles and Sir Winston Churchill were hanging around the colossal London mansion of the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set smoking huge amounts of spectral cigars with Churchill drinking huge amounts of spectral brandy and Welles drinking huge amounts of spectral wine.

After a couple of days of this, an exasperated billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set asked his butler and valet Athelstan, “What’s the number for Ghostbusters?”.

“I regret to say, sir, that Ghostbusters was pure fiction and the Ghostbusters team portrayed by Bill Murray, Dan Aykroyd, Harold Ramis and Ernie Hudson do not exist in reality,” Athelstan sighed.

“Damn,” Set spilled his crocodile casserole all over himself at this upsetting piece of news.

The phone rang.

Athelstan picked it up.

“It’s for you, Orson,” the valet called out to Welles’ ghost who was busy talking to the clock on the living room mantelpiece and telling it, “We will sell no wine before its time.”

“Who is it?” Welles asked.

“It’s Erna Solberg the Prime Minister of Norway,” Athelstan replied.

“What does the Prime Minister of Norway want with me?” Welles asked.

“Well, why don’t you pick up the fucking phone and find out?” Set said angrily as he was using vast amounts of Sherrielock Holmes’ Bavarian Magic Mushroom Stain Remover trying desperately to remove the crocodile casserole stains off his suit and tie.

Welles’ ghost took the phone.

After a long conversation, Welles’ ghost put the phone down.

“What is up, Senor Welles?” Athelstan asked.

“Apparently, that beluga whale that showed up in Norway that some people are calling a Russian spy wants to defect to the Norwegians,” Welles replied.

“And what does that have to do with you?” Set asked as he found out where Renfield kept his secret stash of bourbon (it was under the stairwell under a post office box marked HARRY POTTER Age 21) and helped himself to two bottles of bourbon.

“Apparently, the beluga whale doesn’t speak Norwegian,” Welles replied, “he only speaks Russian (which he learned at the Russian Navy’s Northern Fleet Headquarters in Murmansk where he was being taught to be a spy) and English. Apparently he learned English because his spy handler listened to my old radio programs that are available on the Internet. Shows like The Shadow, The Adventures of Harry Lime, and The Black Museum. He also liked a radio commercial ad I once did for Norwegian cod. Apparently it was that ad which inspired him to defect to Norway. While swimming towards Norwegian waters, he ran into the mermaid Miranda who had met Renfield once on the Israeli coast off Tel Aviv. Miranda told the beluga whale that while it is true that I’m dead, I was granted dispensational leave from Purgatory by Hades the god of the Underworld and I’m currently serving as a spirit advisor to Mr. Renfield along with the ghost of Sir Winston Churchill. The beluga wants to make his formal defection to the Norwegian government with me present.”

“Does that mean you’ll go to Norway and be out of my house for a while?” Set asked as he started working on his 99th bottle of bourbon.

“Yes,” Welles nodded, “If I can borrow one of your Persian flying carpets to fly to Norway.”

“Yes, go down to the Set Enterprises Laboratories and Rug Emporium and get one,” Set directed, “In the name of God, go.”

Welles’ ghost walked out the door and went out into the London night with his spectral fur coat adorning his huge spectral shoulders.

Set looked over into the armchair by the fireplace where Churchill’s ghost sat fast asleep and singing in his sleep, “Oh my darling, oh my darling, oh my darling Clementine, you are lost and gone forever, oh my darling Clementine.”

“Now, if I can only find a way to get rid of that one,” the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire pointed a bony finger at Churchill before falling to the floor in a drunken stupor.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday May 3rd 2019.

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The Maltese Falcon At Mar-A-Lago: A Poem

April 3, 2019 at 10:46 pm (Detective story, Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, International Intrigue, Mystery, News, Poetry, Romance, Spy Tales, Technology, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , )

Narrator of poem:

“How are ya, sweetheart?
I’m the ghost of Humphrey Bogart
I was recently challenged by my friend the ghost of Orson Welles
to see if I still got tough guy and private eye skills
that I used to have in my movies.

So I took him up on his challenge and headed down to Florida
The site of one of my popular films Key Largo
I heard about this swanky place down there called Mar-a-Lago
A private Palm Beach, Florida club owned by a temper tantrum throwing
spoiled brat billionaire named Donald Trump
Imagine my surprise when I heard this bozo
was also the President of the United States
The country has certainly gone down hill
since the days of Harry Truman
I figure.

Anyways a Chinese lady spy named Yujing Zhang
was arrested at the club trying to enter it with a
thumb drive containing malware
I had no idea what a thumb drive is
Thought it might be that a car was driven by your thumb
instead of both hands in this day and age
or maybe some newly designed form of golf club
they came up with that quite literally relies on the rule of thumb
And as for malware, I thought it was some guy named Mel Ware
who just might be the uncle of Token Ware
a female character in a Raymond Chandler Philip Marlowe story

I was set straight on the new developments in technology
by the ghosts of eccentric Serb-American inventor Nikola Tesla
and some British guy named Alan Turing
who made a name for himself in mathematics

Anyways it turns out this Yujing Zhang wasn’t the only femme fatale
causing intrigue down at Club Mar-a-Lago
Some woman named Li Cindy Yang is also involved
It turns out she owns a massage parlour
where prostitution is said to be going on
on the premises
One of her arrested johns was a Mr. Robert Kraft
the owner of a football team called The New England Patriots
The case is made even more interesting by the fact
that the team’s quarterback Tom Brady
claims he’s able to win football games
through the help of his wife
Gisele Bundchen
who’s a witch.

The whole thing reminds me of a film my friend Veronica Lake
made back in 1942
called I Married A Witch

So you can imagine my surprise when I walked through the door
of Club Mar-a-Lago
and saw the Maltese Falcon on the table
That old bird that appeared in the film by that title
That I starred in back in 1941

Around the table lay the bodies of various secret service agents
who had been completely drained of blood
A beautiful Chinese woman wearing a white evening dress
stood outside the club dining room window
in the middle of the pouring rain

“That most enchanting and intriguing woman is the Chinese Communist vampiress Mei-ling Manchu,”
The ghost of Orson Welles arrived in the nick of time
sipping a glass of red wine,
“She’s the daughter of Dr. Fu Manchu the famous scientist
whose exploits were written about in the novels of Sax Rohmer”.

“What’s she doing here?” I asked Welles.
Welles smiled, “She’s hidden a bunch of condoms owned by the Knights of Malta
in that Maltese Falcon.
That way when they’re found by law enforcement authorities
who are already on their way over here
The find will prove to be problematic and embarrassing
for both Donald Trump and Pope Francis
And the Chinese government will have killed two birds with one stone.”

“Well, that explains the pair of sunglass wearing dead pink flamingos I passed by on the lawn on the way in then,” I remarked
“Those are actually lawn ornaments knocked over by drunken country club members,” Welles finished his wine.

I noticed Mei-ling Manchu approach a fire-breathing Black Dragon
and crawl on to its back
“Off to Venezuela,” she said, “There to watch the Donald play his final Trump card before we divide this land between ourselves and the Russians.”
She and the Dragon flew off into the night sky

I walked outside to watch the Dragon and the vampiress depart
I looked down at the two pink flamingos and remarked to Welles,
“Well, I suppose the problems of two flamingos don’t amount to a hill of beans in this world.”
Welles lit himself a cigar and remarked, “Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But someday and soon.”
Some young woman named Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez stood outside the club and waved a document called the Green New Deal.

“Bogey on the 18th hole,” the ghost of Arnold Palmer remarked as he walked by with his golf clubs.

I laughed, patted Welles on the shoulder and said,
“You know, Orson, this could be the start of a beautiful friendship”
As we walked off into the misty greens.

-A poem and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday April 3rd
2019.

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