Of Castros and Other Despots

April 17, 2021 at 10:58 pm (Espionage, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, International Intrigue, Mythology, News, Spy Tales, The Occult, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , )

It was 60 years ago today that the American CIA’s poorly planned and thoroughly botched Bay of Pigs invasion of Cuba took place.

The plan was to drive the Castro Communist government of Cuba out of power.

The Communists are still in power in Cuba today.

And today the American CIA itself (along with the rest of the American Deep State) is now crawling from top to bottom with Neo-Bolshevik Communist ideologues.

Raul Castro the former President of Cuba (and successor to Fidel Castro) used the 60th anniversary of the Bay of Pigs invasion to announce his resignation as leader of Cuba’s Communist Party today.

-Renfield R. Renfield British MP doing his Saturday night podcast from Lord Horatio Nelson’s column atop London’s Trafalgar Square.

. . .

The Bay of Pigs invasion is not the only anniversary to be noted on this April 17th 2021.

It was 39 years ago today on April 17th 1982 that Her Majesty Elizabeth II in her role as Queen of the Dominion of Canada signed into law in Ottawa the new Canadian Constitution that included the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms.

Today if you click on the link to the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms at the Government of Canada website, a message pops up that the link to this page you’re looking for is now broken.

Truer words have never been spoken.

Last night Ontario Premier (and for all intensive purposes absolute Fascist dictator) Doug Ford the leader of Canada’s largest province announced the most draconian lockdown measures ever.

Police would be allowed to arbitrarily stop any pedestrian walking the streets or any person driving a vehicle and ask them for their ID papers with home address as well as an explanation of why they’ve left their homes.

Roadblocks and checkpoints had also been set up on Ontario’s borders with the provinces of Manitoba and Quebec to turn back any person deemed unfit to enter the province.

After making the announcement the words I AM AN APOSTLE OF THE ANTICHRIST suddenly appeared written in black and red felt ink on Doug Ford’s forehead and a Lake Ontario Beach Rubbish Cream Pie was thrown in his face by an invisible entity (identified as a 6 foot 8 tall purple coloured bunny rabbit with big pink floppety ears according to a Harvey Wallbanger drinking bystander).

Today Ford announced he was dropping giving police the powers to arbitrarily ask someone for their ID papers and home address and an explanation of why they were outside their homes after an outcry from Ontario’s civil libertarian leaders (of which there were not too many in the Ontario of the Great Reset).

However Ford did offer a caveat “unless police suspected the person might possibly be attending a mass social gathering”.

Given the Nazi Gestapo like mentality or Neo-Bolshevik Communist secret police like mentality of many police officers in Canada (to say nothing of the rest of the Western world), that caveat would be enough to give any power hungry corrupt cop (of which there are far too many in Canada and the Western world) the legal cover he needed to persecute and harass somebody he didn’t like the look of or just didn’t like for whatever reason.

-Renfield R. Renfield British MP broadcasting from above the Canadian High Commission in London, England.

. . .

Prince Philip’s funeral was held at St. George’s Chapel at Windsor Castle today.

As the day gave way to night, the London-based ancient Egyptian vampire Set stood on the grounds of Windsor Castle and paid his respects from a distance.

Set had met the Duke of Edinburgh on a few occasions.

Meanwhile far off in the Canadian province of Alberta, a trio of deities were having a bit of fun.

Thor, Loki and a robotic falcon possessed by the spirit of the Egyptian god Horus had kidnapped a statue of a white unicorn from the small village of Delia, Alberta.

For the past two years, Morgan the Mystical Unicorn had stood in front of an arts and crafts shop in the small village of 215 people.

Then a couple of nights ago, the white unicorn (made of stainless steel) had been stolen.

Today it had been found in a farmer’s field not far from the village.

Its horn had been hammered off and then fitted upside down into the horse’s head.

A cruel thing to do to a statue of a unicorn.

A woman named Delia (she was in fact the Greek goddess Artemis whose epithet Delia meant “Woman born on the island of Delos”) was sure that the three deities’ abduction and smashing and inverting of the horn inside the head of Morgan the Magical Mystical Unicorn was directed at her.

In the form of a message.

A message directed against her.

And somehow connected with the funeral of Philip (since Philip had also been the name of the father of the Macedonian Greek king Alexander the Great).

And the unicorn (along with the lion) had been longstanding symbols of the British monarchy to be found on their coat of arms.

And somehow this tied in with “the little horn of the Book of Daniel” (Daniel Chapter 8 which was seen as a prototype of the Antichrist).

Already Peter Whitstable the man they call the Fox Mulder of Interpol was using an Oxford cryptographer to deciper the message the whole Morgan the Mystical Unicorn abduction from the village of Delia and the horn smashing and inversion intended to convey.

The Greek goddess Artemis: Whose epithet is Delia.

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Mei-ling Manchu and A Clockwork Orange

April 13, 2021 at 10:41 pm (Espionage, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, International Intrigue, News, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , )

British MP Renfield R. Renfield had met vampiress Mei-ling Manchu yesterday at the Green Dragon and Shamrock B. And B. (Bed and Breakfast) in Beijing, China.

There Renfield had given Mei-ling Manchu the bomb that Set Enterprises’ chief acientist Dr. Cadbury Rocher had invented and designed to kill Communist China’s paramount leader Xi Jinping.

The bomb was called A Clockwork Orange and it was a cuckoo clock made out of mandarin oranges.

When the orange clock timed and chimed the hour, a cuckoo bird bearing the head of Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau emerged from the top part of the clock and said “Cuckoo! Cuckoo!”.

The bottom sides of the cuckoo clock would open immediately afterwards and a medieval knight who looked like a young Malcolm McDowell (as the British actor would have looked in about 1971) would then chase a figure of the despotic Holy Roman Emperor Frederick II around until he finally beheaded him.

When this happened, the cuckoo bird with Justin Trudeau’s head would emerge from the top part of the clock for one final “Cuckoo!” before Justin’s head would fall on to the track below where a train blowing “Choo! Choo!” would run over his head.

The whole complex scenario with cast of characters would be played all over again an hour later when the orange clock timed and chimed the next hour.

The idea and inspiration for the clock had come from the dazzling imagination of Renfield R. Renfield himself although the mechanisms for the clock (made out of a particularly hard variety of Dr. Cadbury Rocher developed mandarin oranges) were made by Dr. Rocher.

The Clockwork Orange device itself had been fitted with an unusual tracking mechanism designed to detect the particular individual DNA of Xi Jinping himself within a distance of one foot.

The device would then go off as a bomb killing Xi instantly.

In the meantime, other people could enjoy the splendid mechanisms and unique mechanical performances hour upon the hour of the Clockwork Orange contraption until such time as it wound up in the presence of Xi.

Then it would be like that old 1960s TV commercial for a now defunct brand of toilet paper called Zee in which children’s voices at the end of the commercial said, “Mommy, there’s no more Zee.”

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday April 13th
2021.

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Mei-ling Manchu At The Green Dragon and Shamrock B and B In Beijing

April 12, 2021 at 10:59 pm (Espionage, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, International Intrigue, News, Politics, Romance, Spy Tales, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , )

Vampiress Mei-ling Manchu waiting outside the Green Dragon and Shamrock B and B in Beijing

Vampiress Mei-ling Manchu was waiting outside the Green Dragon and Shamrock B and B (Bed and Breakfast) in Beijing.

Mei-ling Manchu had once been a loyal follower of the CCP (Chinese Communist Party).

But during the last decade she had come to realize that the CCP had only increasd misery not alleviated it.

For the real purpose of the CCP had been, like that of Communist parties everywhere, to crush the human soul.

Having once been a dialectical materialist, she had not believed in the existence of the human soul.

But in the dissidents she had occasionally met over the years, those dissidents who had stood up against the CCP regime in Beijing, she had come to realize that the human soul and the human spirit did exist in those dissidents.

Those who continued to follow the regime, followed its despotic decrees day by day and meekly accepted the CCP’s diabolic Social Credit score were allowing their souls day by day to die little by little.

Until one day their souls were no more.

And they were just human fleshed cogs in a CCP machine who’d one day be replaced by robot cogs in the machine as the Transhumanism of the new Xi Jinping inspired CCP Transhumanism and the Transhumanism of the western globalist technocratic Fascism of the capitalist West merged into one.

What was killing the souls of the once great Chinese people was now killing the souls of people across the globe.

For lockdowns and isolation and the creation of a two-tiered system of people via vaccine passports was spreading throughout the world.

And most did not resist.

For their souls had been killed by the diabolical dialectic materialism of monopolistic capitalism with its greed and avarice (what Saint Paul had dubbed “the love of money” which the Apostle had further noted was “the root of all evil”).

Like Esau in the Bible who had sold his inheritance for a bowl of pottage, so the peoples of the West had sold their inheritance (their souls) for a bowl of pottage (whatever little bits of slop their globalist technocratic masters threw at them as long as they kept on their masks, practiced their social distancing and continued their OCD continuous handwashing).

The Green Dragon and Shamrock B. and B. in Beijing was owned by Yaldabaoth the Irish leprechaun.

He had been granted permission to open this B. and B. by Chinese Premier Chou En-lai back in the early 1970s.

As David Cheung the owner of Edmonton’s Pearl River Restaurant had once told a young University student (today a Calgary based geopolitical analyst friend of Renfield) that when Chou died “the people of China wept both in public and in private but when Mao died they wept in public but not in private”).

The inference being that Chou did have the interests of the Chinese people at heart even though he had mistakenly chosen the philosophy of Marxism-Leninism to bring about a better society.

While Mao did not have the interests of the Chinese people at heart.

He was a megalomaniac who craved power for power’s sake.

Just like today Xi Jinping was a 2nd Mao Tse-tung.

Chou and Yaldabaoth had once made their own recipe a Peking Duck Irish Stew together and Chou had let Yaldabaoth have this property as his reward.

And today Mei-ling Manchu was meeting British MP Renfield R. Renfield at the Green Dragon and Shamrock B. and B. to put the final touches on their plan to kill Xi Jinping.

Renfield, who had disappeared from public sight in Britain last week, had in fact been flying the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set’s invisible dirigible airship The Claude Rains and Lamont Cranston Project One over to China.

Renfield and Mei-ling greeted one another with a hug and a kiss and then went into the B. and B.

“Mei-ling,” Renfield inquired, “Sherrielock Holmes was telling me about anassignment she had once done for Britain’s MI-6. The matter apparently involved then California U.S. Republican Senatorial candidate Richard M. Nixon and yourself. She had hired a Los Angeles private eye Carson Cody Albion to see what was going on. Apparently Albion discovered that you had failed in your attempt to seduce Nixon.”

“I did not fail,” Mei-ling said, “It turns out that Nixon, despite his many faults, was at least loyal and faithful to his wife which is not true of most male politicians of whatever political stripe in the U.S.A.”.

“So you got nothing out of your encounter?” Renfield sipped his cup of green tea.

“I did hypnotize him with a Ming dynasty pocket watch- the first pocket watch ever invented,” Mei-ling noted, “I said whenever he heard a German wearing glasses singing the Bob Hope song Thanks For The Memories, then he was to open up diplomatic relations with the government of the People’s Republic of China. One of our operatives Ho Babylon Minh hypnotized Dr. Henry Kissinger via use of a blow job to sing the Bob Hope song Thanks For The Memories at a White House gala in early 1971. That set everything in motion. Nixon in a live TV address on July 15th 1971 announced that he would be visiting the People’s Republic of China.”

As Mei-ling Manchu tossed a 1000-Year-Old egg into a nearby garbage can, Renfield wondered to himself, “I wonder who got the best end of the stick? Nixon or Kissinger?”.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday April 12th
2021.

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Just Another Day In Paradise

April 11, 2021 at 10:21 pm (Detective story, Film, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, International Intrigue, Mystery, News, Poetry, Politics, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , )

“I didn’t expect you to be back so soon,” the woman smiled at Carson Cody Albion Private Eye as she sat on the stairs leading up to his apartment.

The year was 1950.
“Do I know you?”
Albion inquired
After the woman greeted him on the stairs.

“Sadly, we’ve never met before,” the woman continued to smile at him.
“Are you a widow?” Albion asked her, “I notice you’re wearing a black dress and a black veil.”
“I am wearing what you say,” she continued to smile, “But I’m also wearing white flowers in my hair.”
“And wearing a smile,” Albion noted.
“That too,” the woman laughed.
“So you’re not a recent widow?” Albion asked.
“I am a recent widow,” the woman nodded, “but only in the stage play I’m acting in. I murdered my husband. I am a villainess… in the play.”

“Oh,” was Albion’s response as he rolled himself a cigarette.
“I walked direcly from the playhouse to here without stopping to change,” the woman explained.
“And who are you in real life?” Albion asked.
“My name is Sherrielock Holmes,” the woman answered.
“The name sounds familiar,” Albion lit his cigarette.
“Sherlock Holmes was my twin brother,” the woman lifted her veil and accepted a cigarette from Albion.
“But he’s dead and he’d be almost 100 if he was alive and…” Albion did not finish the sentence.
“I’m alive and I’m immortal,” the woman accepted a light.
“That explains everything,” Albion blew out the match.

“It does,” Sherrielock smiled.
“Do you wish to hire me?” Albion sat on a step below her.
“I do,” Sherrielock smiled.
“For what purpose?” Albion wanted to know.
“To investigate Richard M. Nixon,” Sherrielock answered.
“The presumed Republican Party candidate for U.S. Senator from California this year?” Albion took a bottle of bourbon from his coat pocket and took a sip.
“Yes,” Sherrielock nodded.
“Why?” Albion wanted to know.
“To see why Mei-ling Manchu is interested in him,” Sherrielock raised the hem of her skirt.
“Mei-ling Manchu?” Albion blew smoke rings.
“She’s a vampiress and a member of the CCP,” Sherrielock stated.
“CCP?” Albion was quizzical.
“Chinese Communist Party,” Sherrielock smiled, “Not Coca-Cola Playtime.”
“That’s good,” Albion raised his fedora, “Because I hear Nixon drinks Pepsi.”
“And here I was going to offer Tahiti Treat,” Sherrielock laughed.
“What’s Tahiti Treat?” Albion wasn’t familiar with that beverage.

“Well,” Sherrielock spoke breathlessly, “Why don’t we go up to your apartment and I’ll show you?”.
“Now there’s an offer I can’t refuse,” said Albion.

A young actor named Marlon Brando cast a glance up the stairwell.

Now there was a line he’d like to be able to use someday or a line like it.

-A Carson Cody Albion narrative poem
and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday April 11th
2021.

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Jack The Ripper Nosferatu

March 31, 2021 at 10:22 pm (Detective story, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, Horror, International Intrigue, Mystery/horror, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , )

British MP Renfield R. Renfield received an email from Peter Whitstable the man they call the Fox Mulder of Interpol.

Whitstable was doing research into Count Orlok Nosferatu the bald-headed vampire who was the subject of F.W. Murnau’s 1922 German Expressionist silent film Nosferatu.

Whitstable had come across a diary from 1888 in which Count Orlok Nosferatu claimed that he had turned the man Scotland Yard called Jack the Ripper into a nosferatu back in the spring of 1888.

And that the murders of the Ripper’s Autumn of Terror in London in the late summer and early autumn of 1888 was Jack the Ripper going through an intense blood lust common to beginning nosferatu.

As he matured in his nosferatuhood, Jack settled down and just bit women on the neck to remove their blood instead of cutting their throats and removing their internal organs like he did when he was the Leather Apron Whitechapel Murderer of the Autumn of 1888.

After reading the email, Renfield recalled an antique journal that London art gallery curator Dashwood Forrest had come across written by a woman named Colleen Darcy O’ Derby who had apparently worked in a brothel in the seaside town resort of Brighton.

The experience that happened to Miss O’ Derby one spring night in 1889 struck Renfield as being an encounter with a nosferatu.

Renfield rang Forrest up and asked if he could take a look at the journal.

Forrest agreed and Renfield drove over in his 1937 Peugeot 402 Darl’mat to the Dashwood Forrest Art Gallery.

Taking a look at the March 31st 1889 Journal entry, Renfield read in Miss Colleen Darcy O’Derby’s own words,

“This Jack as he called himself was a peculiar client.
Peculiar and repugnant.
He had a bald head, an elongated face, a flat nose, sinister lips, a mountainous chin and deadset eyes.
Like a human skull that still had a thin layer of flesh attached to it.
I could not sleep with the man no matter how much he paid me.
I ran from the room.
Along a boardwalked path that still had a chill in the air.
It felt more like winter than spring.
The few trees and few bushes along the path had the look of dead late autumn to them.
I felt like something was behind me.
A giant head without a body.

I turned and that’s exactly what it was.
A giant head without a body.
I screamed.
He gave a leering smile and a body of a caped figure carrying a walking stick suddenly appeared below the giant head as it shrank in size and attached itself to the body of the caped figure carrying the walking stick.
He spoke, in a hiss, like a snake, “I should do to you what I did to those women in Whitechapel last fall.”
I froze.
Was he the Whitechapel Murderer?
Leather Apron?
Jack the Ripper?
“But you’re too beautiful for that,” he grinned like the face of sinister Death as depicted in Churches built during the era of the Black Death.
Fangs protruded from his sinister lips and he bit me on the neck.
I could feel the blood and the life force drifting out of me.
He stopped.
He spoke, “You have only one ounce of blood left my dear. Should I drain it and turn you into a nosferatu? No. No, my dear. Your hair is far too beautiful for that. Baldness does not become you. A mere vampiress you shall be. Not nosferatu.”
And with that, he departed into the dark stormy sky from whence he came.
And I became a vampiress.”

“Very interesting,” Renfield made notes.

He then closed the journal, thanked Dashwood Forrest and returned to his car.

A beautiful woman with beautiful beautiful long long dark hair stood watching him as he got into his 1937 Peugeot 402 Darl’mat Roadster.

She smiled.

Her fangs glistened in the dark.

She put her hands through her long dark luxurious hair and laughed.

She was definitely vampiress.

But not nosferatu.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday March 31st
2021.

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Michelangelo’s Dream of Bogey and Bacall

March 27, 2021 at 10:34 pm (Detective story, Entertainment, Film, History, Humour, Poetry, Romance, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , )

Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster had a dream where he was playing Humphrey Bogart’s character of Philip Marlowe and having an encounter with Lauren Bacall.

After waking up, he decided to write a narrative poem about his dream.

He went over to his waterproof laptop to start writing but then decided to use his recently bought old vintage Underwood typewriter that had been custom refurbished to work underwater.

Grabbing some waterproof sheets of paper, he inserted them into his waterproof old vintage Underwood typewriter and started typing the poem.

Bogey and Bacall: Philip Marlowe’s Right On The Ball
A narrative poem
By Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster
Narrated in the First Person
By Philip Marlowe
(As played by Humphrey Bogart)

So I had come home after a hard day on the case
Rather difficult to try to sleep on a case of bourbon
I did do some work on that other case
Trying to find Max Spellbein’s younger daughter
Where do younger daughters hang out these days anyways?

I went down to Frankie’s Jazz Cafe
The Pink Flamingo Lounge
And even The Silverstar Nightclub
Nothing.
No sign of her.

I even went down to the bus depot and the shipyard
Her ship must have sailed when my bus came in
Does that make any sense?
Probably not.
Difficult to make sense
When one’s mind is adrift
In a sea of bourbon.

I lit a cigarette
Put it in my mouth
And made a silent prayer
That this combination of alcohol and flame
Didn’t send me up like a rocket on New Year’s Eve.

I thought I heard piano music coming from my piano
Which was strange
I rarely play the piano these days
Not since I got my fingers caught in that mousetrap
Under the altar of Saint Ignatius’ Church
When I said to the good priest,
“Pray it again, Sam.”

After sitting in my chair
Looking up at the ceiling
And watching the paint dry
It suddenly hit me
That I hadn’t painted this place in ages
So there was no drying paint to watch

That was definitely music I was hearing
So either someone was playing the piano
Or the angels were calling me

So I walked into the piano room
And there at the piano
Sat Max Spellbein’s elder daughter

Lauren Bacall: Playing the piano and singing, “When smoke gets in your eyes…”

I stood there
Inhaled the air from the open window
And realized I wouldn’t be spending the night alone.

-A narrative poem
and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday March 27th
2021.

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The Tallbanger Scene

March 26, 2021 at 9:57 pm (Entertainment, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, International Intrigue, Movies, News, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , )

1921 Hollywood.

The director Charles William Lewis was directing a scene.

A strange looking man Count Nosferatu had recently approached him about directing a vampire film- an adaptation of Bram Stoker’s novel Dracula.

Lewis had agreed.

And today he would be shooting the scene where Count Nosferatu bites two young women.

Unbeknownst to Lewis, Count Nosferatu was working as an operative for the Soviet Commisar of War Leon Trotsky.

Trotsky was fascinated by the Count Nosferatu’s power of hypnosis.

He was wondering if this hypnotic power could come across via this new medium of film.

If someone like Nosferatu could hypnotize movie audiences and say… make them all Communist in their thinking, it would certainly be a new warfare tactic.

Trotsky would try this experiment in the greatest bastion of capitalism in the world- the United States of America.

And thus Nosferatu went to America.

To Hollywood.

And to the now long forgotten Charles William Lewis Studios.

But a friend of British politician Winston Churchill had found out about the Trotsky-Count Nosferatu Plan.

And acting on behalf of Churchill, the friend had gone to America.

To Hollywood.

To the now long forgotten Charles William Lewis Studios.

Nosferatu was now about to make his first appearance in the movie to his two young victims.

He found himself hit over the head by a box of carrots and rendered unconscious.

Churchill’s friend then made his own appearance in the movie.

Although he himself could not be seen.

But his shadow could.

The two actresses screamed.

If the film had been shot in colour and Churchill’s friend could actually be seen (and not just his shadow) the camera would have shown a 6 foot 8 tall bunny rabbit with big pink floppety ears.

Count Nosferatu vanished from history.

Although a German actor named Max Schreck would later play Nosferatu’s persona in an F.W. Murnau directed German Expressionist film released a year later in 1922.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday March 26th
2021.

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Memories of Selena

March 25, 2021 at 9:53 pm (Arts, Culture, History, Music) (, , , , )

Selena Quintanilla

Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell was the CEO of Aulos Music and Recording Ltd. in London.

He had become the CEO of the company after buying it (through a loan given to him by the London-based billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set) in 2018.

Previously he had been an Executive Vice-President of the Company.

This past year of the pandemic there had not been much recording going on at his studios on Abbey Road- the Wuthering Heights and Glencoe Hospitality Recording Studios.

As most musicians and singers did their performances via podcast and livestream.

So Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell had used the past year to write his memoirs.

He had run for the 2008 Democratic Presidential nomination in the U.S. and had come in an extremely extremely extremely distant third behind Barack Obama and Hillary Rodham Clinton.

He moved to London England in 2010 to become Executive Vice-President of Aulos Music and Recording Ltd. to fulfill a lifelong dream he had of one day becoming a music producer.

Prior to his Presidential run, he had been an Executive Vice-President of Vidal Sassoon Hair Products.

Today he was busy recalling the year 1994.

He was remembering the day that year a friend of his had invited him to a small recording studio that the friend owned in San Antonio, Texas.

He recalled walking through the door of the recording studio and there sitting on a chair was a woman with one of the loveliest smiles he had ever seen in his life.

Selena Quintanilla

Campbell was disappointed in himself for at that time he had never heard of this young and promising young star bound to become a superstar.

She however sang and recorded a song in his friend’s studio that day.

It was a song in Spanish.

It was so beautiful that Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell resolved someday to learn the language.

Sadly he had never done that either up until this point in his life.

He recalled a year later in 1995 the day that he had heard Selena had been shot and killed by the President of her own fan club.

March 31st 1995.

In less than a week, it would be the 26th anniversary of her tragic death.

A young talent taken from the world too soon.

A lovely smile taken from the world too soon.

-written by Christopher
Thursday March 25th
2021.

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Portrait of Tapairu The Tahitian Sleeping Beauty

March 21, 2021 at 10:27 pm (Art, Arts, History, Romance, Short Story, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , )

Portrait of Tapairu the Tahitian Sleeping Beauty

“What an absolutely beautiful painting,” Sherrielock Holmes the (quite literally) immortal twin sister of London consulting detective Sherlock Holmes gazed at the newest acquisition now hanging in the Dashwood Forrest Art Gallery in London.

Mr. Truffles her orange tabby cat purred in agreement and looked up affectionately at the painting.

“It was painted in Tahiti back in 1894 by one Sean Seamus O’ Gill an Irish painter and artist who lived on the island of Tahiti around the same time as the French artist Paul Gauguin,” Dashwood Forrest the art gallery owner and curator explained, “sadly Mr. O’ Gill is not as well known as Gauguin.”

As the old grandfather clock chimed in the gallery and the statue of a gnome emerged out of a small drawer to turn over an hourglass whose sands had just run out, images from a past time seemed to filter into the present.

Sean Seamus O’ Gill looked at the vision in front of him.

“What a vision,” Sean Seamus O’ Gill remarked to the French missionary priest Father Jacques La Croix.

“It’s like that old Irish hymn whose lyrics begin “Be thou my vision”, eh, Sean?” Father La Croix smiled.

“I guess you could phrase it that way,” Sean nodded, “She does look divine.”

“That she does,” Father La Croix agreed.

“Are you sure she wouldn’t object to being painted while sleeping?” Sean asked.

“No,” Father La Croix shook his head, “She wants to be painted while sleeping. She wants this portrait to be called the Tahitian Sleeping Beauty. She wants to give it as a gift to the man she’s going to marry.”

“She’s engaged?” A look of disappointment crossed Sean’s face.

“Nothing official yet,” Father La Croix answered, “but she hopes to be.”

And so that was how Sean Seamus O’ Gill came to paint the portrait of Tapairu the Tahitian sleeping beauty.

Over the next few months, Sean would sketch drawings and eventually paint pictures afterwards of Tapairu dancing at night in the village center like a royal dancer.

He would sketch drawings and paint pictures afterwards of Tapairu singing to school children during the day.

One of the village matriarchs took notice of his work.

“I’ve been told that an artist likes to depict a subject he loves,” she smiled.

“Um… Tapairu just makes a good subject,” The artist seemed to blush, “That’s all.”

Sean did wonder though which of the many suitors that seemed to want to attract Tapairu’s attention, Tapairu had given her heart to.

On the night of Sean’s birthday, many of the villagers gave Sean gifts.

Tapairu gave Sean a carefully wrapped and rather large present.

Sean opened it.

This was what he saw.

Sean then remembered the words of Father La Croix that she wanted to give the portrait of the Tahitian Sleeping Beauty as a gift to the man she wanted to marry.

Tapairu smiled happily at him.

Sean smiled happily back.

-A short story and
vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday March 21st 2021.

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Star-Crossed Leprechaun

March 11, 2021 at 11:43 pm (Espionage, Film, Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, History, International Intrigue, Movies, News, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , )

“Darling, darling, what is it you saw?” Parker Andrewes asked his wife Claire.

“Perhaps Madame Andrewes would like a cup of tea?” Bela the butler put a tea tray down on the table next to the lounging chair where Claire Andrewes had collapsed after looking out the window.

“Tea would be nice,” said Claire.

“Darling, what was it you saw?” Parker Andrewes asked his wife again.

“A leprechaun,” Claire replied.

“A leprechaun?” Parker Andrewes was stunned by the reply.

“You mean like the wee green folk who live in Ireland?” Bela inquired.

“Yes,” Claire nodded.

Our story begins several hours earlier in the year 2021 at 10 Downing Street in London.

“And what did you say your name was again?” British Prime Minister Boris Johnson asked his bald headed guest with the big fangs protruding over his mouth.

“Count Nosferatu,” the bald headed man with big fangs answered.

“Count Nosferatu?” Johnson removed some scrambled eggs that had been caught in his hair, “You mean like Count Dracula?”.

“No, Count Nosferatu like the 1922 German silent film Nosferatu starring Max Schreck,” the bald headed vampire answered, “Although his name was Count Orlok in the film but mine is Nosferatu. That’s because I was the world’s first Nosferatu.”

“What’s the difference between Nosferatu and other vampires?” Johnson removed some slices of bacon caught in his hair.

“Nosferatu are bald headed vampires,” Count Nosferatu replied.

“Really?” Boris Johnson started washing his hair with Johnson’s Baby Shampoo, “I hope that won’t happen to me. The ancient Babylonian vampiress Lilith turned me into what she called a zombie nosferatu. I hope this doesn’t mean I’m going to go bald.”

“Many zombies still have hair,” Count Nosferatu reflected, “so perhaps you’ll be more zombie than nosferatu.”

“Gosh, I certainly hope so,” Johnson started drying his hair with heat from a toaster he held upside down over his head.

“I think someone’s filming us,” Count Nosferatu pointed to the potted plants on the stand outside the 2nd floor balcony window.

“It must be the blasted members of the press again,” Johnson seethed, “I’m going to settle this once and for all. I’m going to moon them.”

Johnson pulled his trousers and boxer shorts down.

He then turned around and bent over.

Yaldabaoth the Irish leprechaun was standing in the potted plants filming the Boris Johnson-Count Nosferatu meeting on behalf of Peter Whitstable the man they call the Fox Mulder of Interpol.

He was startled by the sight of Boris Johnson mooning him.

So much so that he pushed the wrong button on his Houdini-Tesla-Pantages-Welles-Lamarr Magic Lantern Film Projector and Camera.

The device could also serve as an instrument for time travel.

Yaldabaoth wound up in the year 1939 on the Parker Andrewes Estate near Watertown New York.

Claire Andrewes happened to be looking out the Andrewes mansion window at the time.

She noticed the wee leprechaun.

Yaldbaoth tried pushing another button on the device to return to the time from whence he came.

Instead he pushed a button that projected 3-D holographic images of the Boris Johnson-Count Nosferatu meeting including the British Prime Minister’s infamous mooning of the potted plants on the 2nd floor balcony window.

The sight of Johnson’s moon landing sent Claire Andrewes reeling into her lounging chair where her husband Parker and their butler Bela came rushing to her aid.

The ghost of radio show host Paul Harvey appeared outside the mansion and speaking into a ghostly microphone said, “And now you know the rest of the story.”

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday March 11th
2021.

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