A Marilyn Monroe Halloween
Marilyn Monroe At Halloween
It was Halloween 1954
And Carson Cody Albion
Knocked at the door
Myend was what the sign on the door said
Whoever owned the house called Yourend had fled
So Albion had come knocking knocking on Myend’s door
Private eye he was, no raven saying “Nevermore”.
It was no Pallas Athena that opened the door
But Marilyn Monroe in witch’s apparel without any gore
A lovely witch she was with candles four
And a lovely dress J. Edgar Hoover would die for
Said Marilyn, “Hast thou come knocking at my entrance door?”
Said Albion, “Thou hast knockers that defy gravity’s floor.”
Said Marilyn, “Dost thou love me even though I be poor?”
“I do,” said Albion, “I bought this ring at the jewellery store.”
The curtain and the veil in the temple tore
Baskerville hound lost its footing in the moor
Only PH Unbalanced remained a colossal bore
But the rest of the cosmos rejoiced encore
What sorcery is this that has done this for?
Love’s beating heart yet beats some more
A tale to be told like in days of yore
Albion entered the house as cats and dogs and rain doth pour.
-A Carson Cody Albion poem
and Halloween poem
written by Christopher
Thursday October 13th
2022.
The Cat People and The Wolfman
Simone Simon as Irena Dubrovna the black panther shapeshifting cat woman New York City based Serbian born and raised fashion illustrator who tore a psychiatrist to pieces with her claws
Father Aidan Bury Saint Edmunds the Vicar of Saint Genevieve’s Anglo-Catholic C. of E. Parish Church in West London was meeting with one of his parishioners the world-famous concert pianist Amadeus Emanon in his vicarage kitchen who was enjoying the homemade cinnamon buns made by Father Aidan’s housekeeper Mrs. Lancaster.
Amadeus Emanon was already on his 36th cinnamon bun.
“Do you suppose Mrs. Lancaster might make some more?” Amadeus asked as he looked at the now empty plate.
“Well I do believe it takes awhile to make those cinnamon buns,” Father Aidan Bury Saint Edmunds explained, “plus I think she’s currently busy listening to your friend British MP Renfield R. Renfield’s Wednesday night podcast.”
From upstairs in Mrs. Lancaster’s bedroom could be heard the voice of Renfield R. Renfield saying, “Wow. What a shocker. The cocaine snorting editors of Britain’s The Economist Magazine are calling for cocaine use to be legalized.”
“You know,” Amadeus helped himself to a gingerbread cookie man that Father Aidan Bury Saint Edmunds brought him from the refrigerator, “Renfield was telling me that Russian President Vladimir Putin hired a Siberian shaman to go to New York City and raise from the dead the body of the Serbian cat woman Irena Dubrovna. As Miss Dubrovna’s spirit has graduated from Purgatory to Paradise, she won’t be returning to her body. However a famous homicidally inclined Byzantine mermaid Echidna Antiochus who was put to death on the Byzantine Emperor Justinian I’s orders has had her spirit granted a dispensational release from the Underworld by Hades and has taken possession of Irena Dubrovna’s body.
She is going to Kiev Ukraine as an ally of Putin and will be using Irena Dubrovna’s body to turn into a black panther to rip apart bodies of Ukrainians because the demon Moloch appearing as Saint Michael the Archangel has told Vladimir Putin that it’s the right thing to do.”
“How horrifying,” Father Aidan Bury Saint Edmunds made the Sign of the Cross.
Father Aidan’s making the Sign of the Cross caused a Calvinist street preacher standing on the sidewalk outside the vicarage to drop dead.
“The thing is,” Amadeus scratched his head, “I always thought the 1942 film The Cat People starring Simone Simon was a work of fiction. I didn’t think it was based on a real incident and I didn’t think Irena Dubrovna was a real actual person.”
“Well, it turns out,” Father Aidan Bury Saint Edmunds checked out a passage in the Rev. Montague Summers’ unpublished work (written before he died) Occultic Folklore and Legend As Found In Film, “that there really was an Irena Dubrovna in the late 1930s and that what happened in the film was true.”
“Wow,” Amadeus Emanon walked over to the refrigerator and brought out the entire plate of gingerbread men cookies that he then started eating, “Next thing you know you’ll be telling me that there really was a werewolf called Larry Talbot and that the classic 1941 Universal Pictures monster horror film called The Wolfman that starred Lon Chaney Jr., Claude Rains and Evelyn Ankers was based on something that actually happened in real life.”
“Well, actually,” Father Aidan Bury Saint Edmunds cleared his throat, “I can tell you that Larry Talbot did actually exist and what happened in the 1941 film The Wolfman was true and I don’t need to consult the Rev. Montague Summers’ unpublished work Occultic Folklore and Legend As Found In Film to determine that. For it turns out my grandfather the Anglican clergyman Father Augustine Bury Saint Edmunds was the curate of Saint Magloire’s Church in Llanwelly Wales near Talbot Castle at the time Larry Talbot arrived in the village to flirt with Gwen Conliffe the daughter of the village antique shop owner and to get bitten by Bela the gypsy fortune telling werewolf.”
“Really?” Amadeus paused in the middle of eating his 6th gingerbread man cookie.
“Yes,” Father Aidan Bury Saint Edmunds nodded, “As an interesting postscript to the film which ended with Larry Talbot getting killed by his own wolf’s head silver cane walking stick wielded by Larry’s father Sir John Talbot, the Talbot Castle game keeper Frank Andrews (played by actor Patric Knowles in the film), who was Gwen Conliffe’s fiance, ended up getting killed by a wererabbit bunny rabbit that had apparently been originally bitten by Larry Talbot. After the Saint Magloire’s Church exorcism team made Welsh rarebit out of the Welsh wererabbit, after an appropriate period of mourning for the late departed Mr. Andrews, Gwen Conliffe ended up marrying the young curate Father Augustine Bury Saint Edmunds. So Gwen Conliffe is actually my grandmother.”
“Holy fuck,” Amadeus Emanon commented.
Mrs. Lancaster came down the stairs and washed Amadeus Emanon’s mouth out with soap.
. . .
Outside 10 Downing Street, Larry the 10 Downing Street cat was chasing away the Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow and his spectral black horse.
Inside 10 Downing Street, former British Prime Minister Boris Johnson was trying to convince current British Prime Minister Liz Truss to hire a witch doctor or shaman to raise the famous Wolfman werewolf Larry Talbot from the dead in the Llanwelly Village Cemetery in Wales and send him to eastern Ukraine to eat and devour Russian soldiers.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday October 12th
2022.
Gwen Conliffe (Evelyn Ankers) among the gypsies
Semiramis On The Night of The Hunter’s Moon
Semiramis the Queen of Babylon on the Night of The Hunter’s Moon
The full moon in October is called the Hunter’s Moon.
And Semiramis the Queen of Babylon was out standing in the moonlight in the backyard gardens and gazebo grounds of the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set’s colossal West London estate.
The Queen of Babylon was not sure why she was there on this night of all nights.
The Night of the Hunter’s Moon.
She just felt drawn to come here tonight for some reason.
The Hunter’s Moon, Semiramis thought.
Interesting as she recalled her husband Nimrod of many millenia ago was called in Genesis Chapter 10 “a mighty hunter against the Lord”.
Today Nimrod the once “mighty man” is a little green frog who is occasionally seen in the company of the ancient Babylonian vampiress Lilith, is also seen in the company of the cigarette smoking demon Asmodeus and also serves as an advisor to NASA on the Artemis moon rocket program (even though he knows nothing whatsoever about building moon rockets).
Semiramis suddenly heard footsteps approaching as she stood alongside the gazebo landing.
It was Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing approaching.
In his right hand he carried a suitcase containing video footage of Russian President Vladimir Putin making out with various high-priced escort call girls in the Catherine The Great Moscow Hilton Hotel in downtown Moscow Russia which is owned by Madame Natasha Rachmaninoff.
Van Helsing and Set Enterprises were hoping to use the video footage to blackmail Putin and prevent him from launching a nuclear attack on Ukraine or the West.
Van Helsing could have sent the video footage to Set Enterprises via the Internet but thought the video footage might be destroyed by Russian hackers or the American CIA’s Science and Research Division (that had been headed by the Operation Paperclip landed immigrant Nazi vampire Dr. Eichmann Mengele since 1950) which wanted global nuclear war or Google just because the technocrats who run Google are a bunch of assholes.
“Van Helsing,” Semiramis gasped.
The Queen of Babylon had encountered Van Helsing on previous occasions.
“Semiramis,” Van Helsing acknowledged the Queen of Babylon.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re the spitting image of Carson Cody Albion the private eye?” Semiramis asked.
“A few people have told me that,” Van Helsing answered, “Isn’t Carson Cody Albion the private eye supposed to be immortal? In the same way that Sherrielock Holmes the lesser known twin sister of Sherlock Holmes is likewise literally immortal? Although Sherrielock became immortal as a result of eating a Lingzhi Supernatural Mushroom omelette and drinking a Lingzhi Supernatural Mushroom milkshake. I have no how idea how Carson Cody Albion became literally immortal.”
“Rumour has it,” Semiramis answered, “that he became immortal after drinking milk from the sexy incredible well endowed breasts of my very beautiful and very young looking mother the Syro-Phoenician goddess Atargatis.”
“Really,” Van Helsing was intrigued, “Any idea where your mother is now?”.
“None, whatsoever,” Semiramis replied.
Van Helsing loked disappointed.
He’d have to continue searching for Ponce de Leon’s Fountain of Youth in Florida.
A sudden rumble came from the night sky.
Semiramis and Van Helsing looked up.
It was the Celtic stag god Cernunnos chasing a demon elk.
A couple of years ago a Calgary based geopolitical analyst friend of Renfield’s had written a blog post (out of the blue) about a demon elk seated on a throne in Rome’s catacombs who was being worshipped by a group of Cardinals and Western world political leaders.
Today at the Spanish language evangelical church the geopolitical analyst attended a woman described an experience she had this past Tuesday where she had encountered a demonic looking elk on a highway in Idaho.
The elk smashed her windshield and the woman had to keep her eyes closed so that the glass that covered her face wouldn’t enter her eyes and she’d go blind.
She was rushed to hospital by ambulance where all the glass that surrounded her eyes was carefully removed and thanks to prayer and the amazing team of doctors and nurses, her eyes were saved.
That same Tuesday the geopolitical analyst was having a dream about the Celtic stag god Cernunnos hunting a demon elk.
He was awakened by his bozo landlord who needed to get into his room to the electric control panel in his room so he could momentarily shut off all the power in the house.
The bozo landlord did so.
And did so without stepping on the geopolitical analyst’s tablet that was being charged on the floor.
However the landlord was making such a racket upstairs, the geopolitical analyst decided to go get a haircut as he needed one.
When he got home, he was shocked to discover his tablet and his cord and plug in complete disarray on the floor as the bozo landlord had stepped all over it.
His tablet that had a perfect appearance for years was now full of cracks.
He had been getting severe eyestrain the past few days from trying to read and write on it.
But that was obviously nothing to the terror that this woman in his church must have felt this past Tuesday over the fact that she could possibly go blind with her face and eyelids covered in glass from the broken windshield on her car after her car made contact with a demonic looking elk on a road in Idaho.
Ironically enough, the geopolitical analyst had recently written a blog post about Australia’s notorious Uncle Ernie on a road in Idaho.
And then this woman’s testimony regarding her eyes and eyesight in Church on this Sunday October 9th 2022.
Another amazing thing is this Calgary based geopolitical analyst was raised Anglican and in the Canadian Anglican Book of Common Prayer, October 9th is the Memorial Commemorative Date of Robert Grosseteste a scholar who became the Bishop of Lincoln and died in the year 1253.
Robert Grosseteste studied the science of optics and wrote extensively on the subject.
He also invented the first pair of glasses ever invented in medieval Europe.
Robert Grosseteste also taught the young Roger Bacon science.
Roger Bacon was also the medieval philosopher who invented the Baconian scientific method (It can be found in Roger Bacon’s Magnum Opus which was one of the geopolitical analyst’s favourite books in the Medieval Philosophy class he took at the University of Alberta)).
Scholars of the Enlightenment couldn’t handle the idea of a 13th Century Franciscan monk inventing the Baconian Scientific Method so they lied and claimed that it was the late 16th and early 17th Century Protestant and Rosicrucian Freemason Francis Bacon (who conveniently had the same last name) that came up with the Baconian scientific method.
So in a matter dealing with eyes, a geopolitical analyst has had severe eyestrain the past week from trying to read and write on a cracked tablet, a woman almost lost her eyesight after her car windshield came crashing in during an encounter with a demonic looking elk on an Idaho highway and the geopolitical analyst found all this out in Church on the Anglican Memorial Commemorative Day of Robert Grosseteste the Bishop of Lincoln who studied the science of Optics and invented the first pair of eye glasses in medieval Europe.
A dream about a demon elk, an actual encounter with a demonic looking elk this past Tuesday.
Anything else?
Well the Calgary based geopolitical analyst almost died from severe food poisoning as a kid from eating a piece of undercooked wild game animal meat from… an elk.
“There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”
-Hamlet, Act I, Scene v, lines 167-168.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday October 9th
2022.
Ichabod and Ickabob
British MP Renfield R. Renfield was flying over Australia in the Set Enterprises’ dirigible airship The Wild Colonial Boy.
This airship like all of Set’s airship fleet was very eco-friendly and environmentally friendly and was powered by a cannabis engine.
The Wild Colonial Boy however ran on a very special high octane form of cannabis.
This cannabis had been developed by Australia’s notorious Uncle Ernie back at the Hotel California in the Summer of ’69.
A large amount of this cannabis managed to eventually find its way into a Vancouver apartment that was rented out in 1978 by Canadian singer Bryan Adams.
Which was a good thing.
Because the recipe for this type of cannabis was immediately forgotten by Uncle Ernie right after he made it.
The same was the case for every other type of drug made by Uncle Ernie.
As those who suscribe to Uncle Ernie’s Drug of The Day Uberhigh Club by mail say, “You never get the same type of drug from Uncle Ernie twice.”
Seeds from Uncle Ernie’s Summer of ’69 Hotel California cannabis eventually found their way to auction at Sotheby’s in London in the summer of 2021.
Where they were purchased by the London-based billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set beating out both George Soros and Saudi Crown Prince Mohammad Bin Salman in bidding.
And now Renfield was flying around the world from London England to Sydney Australia in just 10 minutes using the super power octane like cannabis engine that ran on Uncle Ernie’s Summer of ’69 Hotel California cannabis.
Uncle Ernie had beat NASA, Jeff Bezos, Sir Richard Branson and Elon Musk all to Hell.
By powering a 1930s style very old fashioned dirigible.
And not even knowing it.
As he stood on an empty Sydney stage in a near empty Sydney theatre singing the title role of his drag queen Cumelita as he was unintentionally setting his girdle on fire.
The only person in the Sydney theatre was Daniel Andrews the Neo-Stalinist and Neo-Maoist tyrant Premier of Victoria state a neighbouring state of the state of New South Wales (New South Wales’ capital was Sydney).
Andrews being a globalist elitist and not a mere simple pleb was not subject to his own draconian lockdown rules (or anyone else’s for that matter).
He sat in the theatre not wearing a mask or pants or even a condom as he sat pleasuring himself like American children’s show TV host Pee-wee Herman in a porno theatre.
The seat would of course have to be steam cleaned afterwards.
. . .
Set Enterprises’ chief scientist Dr. Cadbury Rocher was showing his boss the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set blown up and magnified images of what was on microscopic slides showing samples from both the Moderna and Pfizer “vaccines” (really mRNA genetic serums) for the Wuhan CCP virus (called Covid-19 by the pro-Communist WHO World Health Organization).
The nanobots and nano-organisms in the “vaccine” were magnified an infinite number of times.
An octopus like micro-organism moved itself off the slide in one sample.
And another octopus like micro-organism moved itself off the slide in another sample.
“The Set Enterprises’ Intelligence Unit is investigating the possibility that Bill Gates’ paid help managed to extract DNA from Cthulhu,” Dr. Rocher explained.
“And it’s through this,” Set asked, “that my brother and brother-in-law Osiris (so beloved by Freemasons everywhere) intends to rule the world?”.
Dr. Rocher nodded.
“And do you have a name for this octopus like micro-organism?” Set inquired.
“I call it Ickabob,” Dr. Cadbury Rocher answered.
. . .
The ghost of Orson Welles was reading a huge leather bound volume on Vampires and Ghosts that he had borrowed from the personal library of the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set.
“Did you know that Katrina Van Tassel became a vampiress?” Welles asked Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing.
“She did?” Dracul was shocked, “Katrina Van Tassel who was fought over by two men the mortal schoolteacher Ichabod Crane and the ghostly Friedrich Wotan Wiesbaden the Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow?”.
“That’s right,” Welles nodded as he sipped a ghostly glass of spectral red wine.
“I don’t drink… wine,” the voice of Bela Lugosi could be heard coming from the nearby television set which was showing the 1931 film Dracula.
“How did she become a vampiress?” Van Helsing asked.
“Dracula was visiting upstate New York at the time and gave her a hickey,” Welles answered.
When Van Helsing went back to his London apartment, he found vampiress Katrina Van Tassel inside.
Katrina Van Tassel
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday October 10th
2021.
Hudson Valley Halloween Horror
Vincent: I’m afraid, cousin Jenny, that cousin Floyd will be unable to dine with us this evening.
Jenny: Why ever not?
Vincent: He had the misfortune of being eaten by a black jaguar in the woods last night.
Jenny: A black jaguar in the Hudson River Valley?
Vincent: No doubt the poor creature was a long ways from home. Which may explain why not much was left of Floyd when he was found. Only his right ear and the thumb on his left hand which was tattooed with a drawing of Napoleon. How they were able to identify him.
Jenny: How positively awful.
Vincent: I’ll say. He owed me $100. Money that I suppose now will never be repaid.
Jenny: What was he doing walking in the woods?
Vincent: No one is sure. The only thing known for sure is that he was wearing a pink nightgown while walking in the woods.
Jenny: So that’s why they called him Pink Floyd.
Vincent: Undoubtedly.
Jenny: Whatever happened to that nutty woman they found walking in the woods last week?
Vincent: The one who claimed to have come from the year 2021 and believed herself to be a female Christ saying if people vaccinated themselves, they were Apostles of her love.
“That’s the one,” Jenny nodded.
“I had her burnt at the stake as a witch,” Vincent answered.
“Burnt at the stake?” Jenny was shocked.
“Yes, there was some old wood I was wanting to get rid of,” Vincent nodded, “so I killed two birds with one stone.”
A pair of large black ravens fell from the sky.
“She was a witch?” Jenny turned pale.
“Yes the demons Moloch, Baal and Baphomet visited her room at the village inn,” Vincent explained, “where they jabbed the innkeeper’s daughter with a needle and she died.”
“Awful,” Jenny shook her head.
“There is much evil in the land,” Vincent noted just as the clock was 5 minutes shy of twelve, “Darkness falls across the land, the midnight hour is close at hand and whosoever shall be found without the soul for getting down must stand and face the hounds of Hell and rot inside a corpse’s shell.”
“There’s a three headed dog out there,” Jenny gasped as she looked out the window.
“That would be Cerberus,” Vincent explained.
Vincent went over to his sitting room book shelf and grabbed a volume of ancient Koine Greek and looked up the words for “Sit” and “Good boy”.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday October 5th
2021.
Doctors Frasier and Niles Crane Meet The Brides of Dracula
Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster had been binge watching episodes of the old TV series Frasier.
He then binge watched a Dracula movie marathon.
When that was over, he set his water proof alarm clock moving the time an hour ahead as tomorrow would be the start of Daylight Savings Time.
He then lay back on his water proof pillow and fell asleep.
He had a dream whereby Doctors Frasier and Niles Crane met the Brides of Dracula.
Niles: This is all your fault, Frasier. I don’t really relish the idea of walking around a spooky Transylvanian castle. It doesn’t really cut the mustard in my opinion. Hot doggetty!
Frasier: Niles, I wish you’d stop using those weird euphemisms uttered by that pot smoking hot dog salesman doing those late night infomercials advertising American cuisine recipes you can do in hot tubs. And why is it my fault? You were the one who insisted on giving two rather large glasses of sherry to my BMW’s GPS before we set out on this road trip.
Niles: Yes, well if you had stopped to ask for directions from that transgendered transvestite in the baked potato costume in Boisie, Idaho, we might not be in this mess.
Frasier: No, we might be in a bigger mess.
Niles: What could possibly be a bigger mess than a spooky Transylvanian castle?
Frasier: How about social distancing from a perfect 10 fashion model during a pandemic?
Niles: Frasier, I refuse to believe you dated a perfect 10 fashion model.
Frasier: So does everybody else.
Niles (pointing to a door): Where do you suppose this leads?
Frasier: Oh, I don’t know, Niles. Why don’t you open it and see how many other headwaiters with Hungarian accents lying in coffins we can come across? I haven’t donated so much blood since that multiple radio station personality blood donor challenge in Seattle way back in the day.
Niles (opening door and looking in): It’s the Brides of Dracula.
Frasier (looking in): My God, you’re right, Niles.
Niles: Frasier, I haven’t had so many erotic images and fantasies going through my mind since I first read that scene with the brides of Dracula in Bram Stoker’s novel Dracula as a sophomore back in prep school.
Frasier: That wouldn’t have been the night before the headmaster ordered that major steamcleaning of your mattress?
Niles: Frasier, I wish you hadn’t brought that up.
Frasier: Your mattress probably wished the same thing at the time as well.
Brides of Dracula (calling out): Niles, Frasier!
Niles (rushing in): I regret that I have but one life to give for my fantasy.
Frasier: Niles, quit being such a ham!
(Frasier rushes in)
Frasier: Be a blood sausage like me.
Voice of Count Dracula (singing in the background): I don’t know what to do with that tossed salad and scrambled eggs. They’re calling again.
Voice of Announcer: Good night, Transylvania.
The End.
-A Frasier Meets Brides of Dracula Episode
and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday March 13th
2021.
Selena
The old playhouse was closing
It had a successful run throughout its long life
As a playhouse theatre
For 25 years
From comedies to tragedies
Romance to dramas
Several hits
And a few flops
It was a victim of its own success
For so many people
Were wanting to subscribe to its season
Of plays
This old playhouse
Could not seat all those who wanted to attend
What its company of performers and directors
Stage hands and lighting technicians
Had to offer.
So last night was the last performance
In the old playhouse
And now this 1st of December 1945
The new playhouse with new seats
And a much larger seating capacity
For a much larger audience
Would be opening its run
Of Dickens’ classic tale
For Christmas
A Christmas Carol
A Christmas Carol
With Ebenezer Scrooge
And his longsuffering clerk
Bob Cratchit
And Tiny Tim
And the ghost of Scrooge’s
7-years dead partner
Jacob Marley
With chains upon his feet
And the Ghosts of Christmas Past
Present
and Yet To Come
Selena was an actress
She wasn’t appearing in A Christmas Carol
But she had appeared in the last play
Ever performed in this old playhouse
The play that had finished its run last night
Wuthering Heights
Emily Bronte’s classic tale
of tragic doomed love
Of lovers who went far beyond star-crossed
Trying to reach the heavens
And end up
Falling
Into the abyss.
Of ghosts
And knocking outside the window
And howling winds
And desolate moors
And souls that are damned
And what happens when compassion is lacking
And revenge is always served
Hot or cold.
Selena had played Cathy
The love of Heathcliff’s life
And the woman who loved Heathcliff
Hot love
Passionate love
Forbidden love
The love only hinted at by Emily Bronte
As if Orestes and Electra
Had come from tragic Mycenae of old
To perform unfinished business
On the early 19th Century
Yorkshire Moors
Selena sat on coverings
On the sofa
Where she as Cathy
Had sat with the man
Who was Cathy’s husband
But not Cathy’s love or lover
Edgar Linton
In Bronte’s classic tale
And then
As if in one magic moment
A lighting technician
Suddenly shone the spotlight
On Selena
(Who was dressed to attend
The new theatre playhouse
Christmas Carol
Opening night party)
As she sat on that sofa
And that spotlight
Shone on one promising young actress
Who had performed many great performances
In that old playhouse
And soon would perform many more
In a new playhouse theatre
The spotlight would soon fade
And the lights would come down
For good
on the old playhouse
It may not have been Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre of London
But it had been the town’s old playhouse
Bringing joy and sadness
Heartache and hearbreak
To so many spectators
And audiences over the years
Like many old buildings
This old playhouse
Had character
And thus would be missed
And its old plays
And many performances
Would only be played again
In the memories
of the theatre
Of the mind
-A poem written by Christopher
Tuesday December 1st
2020.
Faustina
Faustina with her cat Lenore Belle Noir in front of the fireplace in her room in Vienna
Flames in the fireplace
Flames that burn
Like thousands of tiny suns
Sending out a cosmic glow
Across the universe
Sending out heat
And ripple effects
Those flames so like her memories
That burn and scorch her mind
In the neverending passages of time
When will her memories become
Like the blackened embers
That sit below the base
of the fire
Becoming galactic black holes
That never emit any light
And become darkness
And a huge void of nothingness
That brings relief
To neverending pain.
Faustina had dressed like she was going to a ball
A cascading symphony of Strauss Waltzes
Dancing in a joyous celebration
Of the Blue Danube
and the Vienna Woods
But there were no Viennese waltzes
And grand balls happening
In this time of Covid
For the Covid virus did decree
like Kubla Khan
At those now forgotten gates of Xanadu
But its decree differered
From that cultured Emperor
For it decreed
And health and political authorities assented
That henceforth
Humans must only exist
And not live
They must no longer interact
No song, dinner or dance
They must cover half their face
With a mask
For if the image of God
Could not be erased from humanity
Then it must at least be distorted
Or cut in half
It is for your own good they tell us,
Faustina thought,
But did not despots throughout history
Always say the same?
On this night
Faustina wore a beautiful white silvery
Evening dress
And necklace
Imagining she’d meet a handsome prince
Or duke or count
But instead her only true friend
Her cat
Lenore Belle Noire
Sat on the train
Of her dress
As the pair
Listened to Strauss waltzes
On the old Gramophone
Lenore Belle Noir
Looked at her mistress
Trying to emit the power of healing
Through her kind and compassionate eyes
To heal her mistress’ tortured soul
For Faustina was the daughter
Of Johann Georg Faust (1480-1541)
Known to history as Faust
If one liked Goethe
Or Doctor Faustus
If one preferred
Christopher Marlowe
Her mother was Hecate
Greek goddess of witchcraft
Who had fallen hopelessly
In love
With that dark tortured soul
Faust
He who had sold his soul
To Mephistopheles
They had made love in the 1580s
And at midnight on the evening of
August 7th to 8th 1588
The night Francis Drake
Defeated the Spanish Armada
Faustina had been born
Born to Hecate
Born to Faust
Born to immortality
For that had been the curse
Inherited from her parents
For immortality for her
Had been a curse
And not a blessing
So many memories
So many painful memories
How long would they burn
In her mind
Like the flames in the fireplace?
How long before they finally
Turn into glowing embers
And at last mercifully into darkened ash?
The sound of the clock
Ticking on the wall
Provided no answer
Would that it did
Would that it did
Tick tock! Tick tock!
-A poem and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday November 19th
2020.
Dinner At Tiffany’s: Leprechaun of The Dance
Tiffany Twisted: Formerly the sensuous witch of the Hotel California
and now the sensuous witch of Sleepy Hollow
Yaldabaoth the Irish leprechaun had been invited to dinner in the Inn room across the hall from his own.
The room that had been rented to one Tiffany Twisted.
Yaldabaoth bathed, showered and shaved.
Then he put on his Irish Spring Mist of The River Shannon aftershave cologne followed by his best green tuxedo and little green bow tie.
Then he walked out the door.
Bucephalus Reborn the walking, talking and dancing zombie black horse thought to himself, “I wonder if I should have told him he forgot to put his trousers on.”
A thought with which Joe Biden campaign staffers were quite familiar with when it came to their own candidate.
Yaldabaoth knocked on the door.
“Come in, Yaldabaoth,” the sensuous voice of Tiffany Twisted beckoned.
Yaldabaoth opened the door and saw this vision:
“Wow, do you ever look hot,” Yaldabaoth felt like President Teddy Roosevelt at this very moment.
“I see you came prepared,” Tiffany smiled like the siren laced rocks of the eastern Mediterranean.
Yaldabaoth looked down and his face turned red, “Faith and begorrah, I seem to have forgotten my trousers.”
He grabbed a copy of James Joyce’s Ulysses off the room’s bookshelf and held it in front of his shamrock deco decorated underwear.
“It’s all right, Yaldabaoth,” she smiled like dawn rising over the hill of Tara, “I like a leprechaun who knows what he wants.”
Tiffany dimmed the lights and started lighting candles.
In the background could be heard Cher’s voice singing on an old 45,
Dark lady laughed and danced and lit the candles one by one
Danced to her gypsy music till her brew was done
Dark lady played back magic till the clock struck on the twelve
She told me more about me than I knew myself.
When the candles were lit, Tiffany and Yaldabaoth drank red wine and ate a Guinness laced Irish potato casserole.
For dessert, they had pumpkin pie with whipped cream on top.
“I hope this pie wasn’t made with my friend Friedrich Wotan Wiesbaden’s head,” Yaldabaoth commented as he licked the whipped cream off Tiffany’s toes.
His newly formed acquaintance Friedrich Wotan Wiesbaden was the Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow and had a pumpkin jack o’ lantern for a head.
“It wasn’t,” Tiffany assurred him with tender kisses.
The clock was approaching 12.
“Let’s dance,” Tiffany put on her record player again.
Tiffany reached for Yaldabaoth’s lucky shamrock.
The voice on the record sang,
I was working in the lab late one night
When my eyes beheld an eerie sight
For my monster from his slab began to rise
And suddenly to my surprise
He did the mash, he did the monster mash
The monster mash, it was a graveyard smash
He did the mash, it caught on in a flash
He did the mash, he did the monster mash
At that moment the Headless Horseman walked in unaware that he was entering the wrong room.
When he saw what the leprechaun and the sensuous witch were doing, he screamed, “I’m blind. I’m blind.”
He turned out into the hall, ran down the stairs, tripped over his feet, landed on the floor and his pumpkin head came off and rolled towards the grandfather clock that was just starting to strike 12.
“Mercy,” the innkeeper muttered at the front desk, “This never happened at the Hotel California.”
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday October 16th
2020.
Lakota Sioux Princess Tanaka and Her Wolf Companion
The Lakota Sioux Princess Tanaka
The immortal Lakota Sioux Princess Tanaka had several wolf companions who served as her protectors.
Her longest serving was a wolf called Seneca who had served her ever since she became an immortal after bareback riding a rare white buffalo on the South Dakota plains back in the late 1870s.
Seneca had been a gift to her from her Medicine Man grandfather (long since deceased).
She had often felt that this wolf Seneca was a creature from another dimension.
The writer C.S. Lewis in one of his Narnia books had once talked about a planet which had several trees growing on it.
Each tree was its own separate universe or world or dimensional realm.
Just as C.S. Lewis saw the rise of the Transhumanist movement within Science (noted in his book That Hideous Strength).
So he foresaw the possibility of multiple worlds or multiple universes- something that modern physics now thinks possible.
Saint Jerome who translated the Bible into Latin -a book known to History as the Vulgate – had recounted in his diary a meeting with a faun (the Roman term for satyr- a creature who was part man and part goat- part of Greco-Roman mythology).
The faun had told Jerome not to worry.
That he (the faun) was a creature from another dimension.
But a dimension created by the same God that Jerome worshipped.
For the Great High God was the creator of the whole Cosmos (and Cosmos in Greek meant the whole created order).
So the faun explained to Jerome that there were many dimensions within the cosmos – the whole created order- not just the dimension in which Jerome’s Earth existed.
Although the faun explained there were a group of beings called the Watchers who had created fauns and satyrs and other hybrids (recounted in mythology) in this dimension.
These Watchers were the ancestors of the Nephilim (the giants) mentioned in the Book of Genesis Chapter 6.
The Watchers and their Nephilim off-spring caused great evil on the Earth which caused God to send the Flood.
When Tanaka had read Jerome’s account of his meeting with the faun, she wondered if Lewis had read it as well.
And caused Lewis to create the faun character of Mr. Tumnus in the Narnia books.
Tanaka reflected on her wolf protectors.
Some were supernatural.
Others were natural who were drawn to her.
There was one- a white wolf with blue eyes- that Tanaka thought was in fact human.
He was a shapeshifter.
Out walking with this blue eyed wolf protector in the woods near the northeastern English village of Barnack (in whose village rectory the noted writer Charles Kingsley author of the book The Water Babies had spent his childhood), Tanaka sat down and looked at him and communicated telepathically.
When the wolf answered Yes to being human, she communicated another question.
The wolf held his head down and then looked up again with sad eyes.
He had lost the ability to speak his own thoughts so he communicated with the lyrics of one of his favourite songs from his childhood – the song Sometimes When We Touch written by Canadian singer-songwriter Dan Hill:
You ask me if I love you
And I choke on my reply
I’d rather hurt you honestly
Than mislead you with a lie
For who am I to judge you
In what you say or do
I’m only just beginning
To see the real you
And sometimes when we touch
The honesty’s too much
And I have to close my eyes
And hide
I want to hold you till I die
Till we both break down and cry
I want to hold you till the fear in me subsides
Romance’s an honest strategy
Leaves me grappling with my pride
But through the years of maturity
Some tenderness survives
I’m just another writer
Still trapped within my truth
A hesitant prizefighter
Still trapped within my youth
And sometimes when we touch
The honesty’s too much
And I have to close my eyes
And hide…
And with that the wolf closed his eyes and walked with his head down into the woods.
“Avalon,” she called out after him, “Don’t you want me to hold you till the fear in you subsides?”.
The wolf came back.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday August 8th
2020.
Dracul Van Helsing 
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