Happy Birthday, Sherrielock Holmes

January 6, 2018 at 9:18 pm (Detective story, Entertainment, History, Literature, News, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , )

Happy Birthday, Sherrielock Holmes

The quite literally immortal dominatrix Sherrielock Holmes (who was Sherlock Holmes’ lesser known twin sister) was turning 164 today.

Many years ago, Sherrielock had eaten some Lingzhi Supernatural mushrooms and become immortal.

Sherrielock was being taken out to dinner by her great grandson Dr. Cadbury Rocher.

They arrived at the Avebury Arms Pub to sample their delicious 😋 steak and kidney pies.

Sherrielock was dressed in an elegant turquoise green evening dress.

“Tell me, Aunt Sherrielock, did you ever offer a plate of Lingzhi Supernatural mushrooms to great uncle Sherlock?” Cadbury was anxious to know.

“I did,” Sherrielock nodded, “but he refused. He longed to meet Irene Adler again.”

“So great uncle Sherlock did come to believe in an afterlife?” Cadbury inquired.

“He did,” Sherrielock sampled her steak and kidney pie, “Ummm, heaven.”

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday January 6th
2018.

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Sherry Valerie Hilles Gothic Exorcist Chronicles

December 17, 2017 at 9:39 pm (books, Horror, Literature, Mystery/horror, The Supernatural) (, , )

Sherry Valerie Hilles Gothic Exorcist Chronicles

A very dear friend of mine and fellow blogger Sherry Valerie Hilles has just published two novels on Amazon.

Volume One of her Gothic Exorcist Chronicles The Devil’s Promises has just been published in paperback:

And Volume Two of her Gothic Exorcist Chronicles The Fallen has just been published in Kindle:

Sherry Valerie Hilles is an amazing woman. A mother of 7 children, she still manages to find the time to write novels, write poetry, draw and paint 🎨 beautiful pictures as well as being a very talented amateur photographer.

Born and raised in the Malaysian province of Sarawak on the island of Borneo, she has a multi-cultural ancestral background- Malay, Iban (the Iban were the famous head hunters of Borneo in times past), Japanese and Chinese.

In her late teens, she left her homeland to study at England’s prestigious Cambridge University.

She now lives in the forests and mountains of Bavaria in southern Germany.

I can honestly say that Sherry is one of the smartest people I know having an immense knowledge of history and literature, music and opera, art and sculpture as well as Greek, Norse and Egyptian mythology.

You can read her beautiful poetry and insights into life at her regular WordPress blog here:

https://sherriedevaleriahendrie.wordpress.com/

Sherry also has a paranormal and ghost story blog (my friend Jan who has a ghost blog herself would probably be interested in this):

https://sherriedevaleriaparaghostories.wordpress.com/about/

Sherry’s tales of the supernatural are great at building up an atmosphere of terror in your immediate surroundings and her writing is so compelling and entrancing that whatever paranormal entity she is describing (be it ghost or demon), you get the absolutely chilling feeling that the entity being described is really and truly in the room with you.

So if you really want to scare yourself out of your wits (thus giving you the qualifications necessary to be President in contemporary America), read her two Gothic Exorcist novels alone in a darkened room with all the lights off and only a single candle burning.

These books would make great gifts for family or friends to have a scary Merry Christmas.

-A recommendation
written by Christopher
Sunday December 17th
2017.

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Charles Dickens and Christmas

November 24, 2017 at 8:24 pm (Commentary, Culture, History, Literature, Personal essays) (, , , )

Charles Dickens and Christmas

I was just reading a review of the released movie Charles Dickens: The Man Who Invented Christmas.

It looks like it will be quite a good film.

Although I think a more appropriate title would be Charles Dickens: The Man Who Re-Invented Christmas.

Because Christmas 🎄 was actually an important holiday in England and celebrated widely until the advent of Puritanism and Oliver Cromwell in the 17th Century.

The monarchy was restored to Britain in 1660 and although Stuart monarchs may have celebrated Christmas, it was a day no longer marked with much commemoration among the general populace.

Hanoverian England and the advent of the Industrial Revolution saw a further decline in the celebration of Christmas.

The idea of Christmas as a special day to celebrate with family and friends the birth of Christ appeared to be on the verge of dying out in England.

There were some inklings of a possible restoration of Christmas on the landscape.

Prince Albert of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha’s marriage to Queen Victoria in 1840 had led the Prince to bring German Lutheran Christmas customs with him to Buckingham Palace such as the idea of candles, lights and decorated Christmas 🎄 trees.

The High Church Anglo-Catholic priest and hymn writer John Mason Neale was also writing Christmas carols during this time period- Good Christian Men Rejoice, Good King Wenceslas and O Come O Come Emmanuel.

But it was a writer heavily in debt who self-published the book A Christmas Carol in 1843 who turned things around.

Mr. Charles Dickens.

His collection of characters in that work – Ebenezer Scrooge, Bob Cratchit and Tiny Tim- have become immortal in themselves.

The ghosts of Christmas past, present and future as well as the ghost of Jacob Marley are probably the most famous ghosts in all English literature.

Dickens’ work would greatly influence the modern Western celebration of Christmas such as family gatherings, seasonal food and drink, parties, dancing, games and a festive generosity of spirit.

All things now associated with Christmas.

In that sense, Dickens did invent Christmas.

But the idea of family Christmas celebrations and Ebenezer Scrooge’s redemption would not have been possible without the Birth of a certain Babe in a manger in Bethlehem 2000 years ago.

Puritan sourpusses such as Oliver Cromwell might have wanted to do away with celebrating Christmas.

The Industrial Revolution with its denial of the essential dignity and self-worth of the individual human person might try to kill the concept of humanity being created in God’s image.

Machines might be seen as capable of replacing a human work force.

And technology might be seen as capable of replacing God.

But for Dickens, the realm of the Spirit was very much alive.

It has been said that “the (Holy) Spirit moveth us in sundry times and places”.

In London in 1843, Charles Dickens felt moved in spirit.

And gave us his masterpiece novella A Christmas Carol.

The celebration of Christ’s birth in the world was not to be denied to humanity.

Today Christmas has turned into an orgy of shopping and commercialization.

The focus has become “What am I getting for Christmas?”.

It is the hidden gift under wrapping that has become the focus of most attention on Christmas morn rather than the Godhead become openly manifest in human flesh.

It looks like the world could use another Charles Dickens to come and remind us what Christmas is truly all about.

-A personal essay
written by Christopher
Friday November 24th
2017.

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The 2nd Anniversary of Sherrielock Holmes’ Appearance On The World Stage

November 23, 2017 at 4:55 pm (Culture, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, International Intrigue, Literature, Mystery, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) ()

The 2nd Anniversary of Sherrielock Holmes’ Appearance On The World Stage

It was apparently 2 years ago today that I first introduced the character of Sherrielock Holmes on to the world stage.

The London dominatrix who’s the lesser known twin sister of the great London consulting detective Sherlock Holmes.

The London dominatrix who once ate a Lingzhi supernatural mushroom and is now immortal as a result.

Here’s the blog post from 2 years ago where I introduced the character of Sherrielock Holmes to the world:

https://draculvanhelsing.wordpress.com/2015/11/23/sherrielock-holmes/

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Haiku About Autumn 🍂

September 28, 2017 at 5:30 pm (Art, Arts, Literature, Nature, Poetry) (, , , )

Haiku About Autumn 🍂

That time when the trees
wear coats of many colours
a fall fashion show

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Haiku About The Portrait of Dorian Gray

August 27, 2017 at 7:06 pm (Art, Arts, Literature, Poetry) (, , , , , )

Haiku About The Portrait of Dorian Gray

Portrait figure old
its subject eternal youth
free from sin’s karma

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Orson Welles and The Woman of Mystery Part 3

August 15, 2017 at 9:24 pm (Arts, Culture, Entertainment, Film, History, Literature, Movies, Mystery, News, Science-Fiction, The Supernatural, Vampire novel, western) (, , , , , )

Orson Welles and The Woman of Mystery Part 3

“So,” Welles looked over again at Serena, “From where did Serena learn this ancient Egyptian spell that turned Belvedere into a ghost white salamander?”.

“You mean from whom?” Serena smiled seductively at Welles and licked her lips.

“From whom?” Welles looked at her quizzically, “You mean it was a person who taught her this spell?”.

“Let’s just say a being or an entity,” Serena laughed once again as she threw back her hair.

“And who is this being or entity?” Welles asked the blonde enchantress seated on the desk in front of him.

“It’s revealed at the end of the script,” Serena winked at him, “at the end of the movie.”

“But I notice the last few pages of the script are missing,” Welles held up the papers in his hand.

“That’s because I want you to take an oath never to reveal the ending of the script before I show it to you,” Serena brought out a King James Bible from her purse since she knew Welles loved the language of the King James Bible.

“An oath?” Welles looked shocked, “But my grandmother warned me never under any circumstances to join the Freemasons.”

“I’m not asking you to take a Freemasonic oath,” answered Serena who had recently seen a Vatican Cardinal do just that.

“That’s good,” Welles breathed a sigh of relief, “I don’t really relish the idea of getting my throat slit from ear to ear or getting disembowelled within stepping distance of the ocean.”

“No sane sensible person would,” Serena agreed.

“But how then are we to make this movie if the ending is kept a secret?” Welles looked at her.

“This will be the most unique movie in all recorded history, Mr. Welles,” Serena spoke in a whisper, “to go along with all the unique movies you have made. This movie will be released to the general public to see within a year of its making but its ending will only be seen in a re-release of the film several years down the road. You of course will shoot the ending Mr. Welles with your own unique style but the ending will be kept on a separate reel stored in a Swiss bank vault and released to the general public several years down the road during the film’s re-release.”

“What a splendid idea,” Welles enthused, “so splendid in fact that it’s a wonder I didn’t think of it…”

“You will, Orson, you will,” Serena laughed.

“So how long will the public have to wait before they see the film’s ending during the movie’s re-release?” Welles asked.

“August 2017,” Serena answered with a smile and a sudden flick of her classic vintage antique railway watch.

“That’s a long way aways,” Welles looked at Serena with an understated expression of shock and astonishment.

“72 years,” Serena did not bother counting the years down on her fingers and toes as she did not have that many fingers and toes.

. . .

Needless to say the chief executive of RKO Radio Pictures Studios did not look at Welles with an understated expression of shock and astonishment when Welles described the project to him.

In fact, the studio head had even taken back the cigar he had offered Welles when the young genius film maker had entered his office.

“A bit early in the day for you to be drinking isn’t it, Orson?” The studio head exploded, “Now get out of here and come back with a more practical idea for a picture.”

Welles hurriedly exited the studio head’s office.

As he left, he heard the studio head’s pet parrot say, “Squawk. You should drink no wine 🍷 before its time. Squawk. You should drink no wine before its time.”

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday August 15th
2017.

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Donald Trump’s Inspirational Pre-Fry Kim Jong-un Day Speech To U.S. Troops

August 12, 2017 at 3:43 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, History, Literature, News, Poetry, Satire) (, , , , , , )

Donald Trump’s Inspirational Pre-Fry Kim Jong-Un Day Speech To U.S. Troops

(with apologies to Will Shakespeare and Henry V over the Saint Crispin’s Day speech)

Donald Trump, preparing for war with North Korea, is set to address the troops.

He is informed by the ghost of the late U.S. Army General William Westmoreland that all transgendered enlisted have now left the U.S. Army.

Donald Trump gazing at what’s left says, “We happy few…”

Trump (beginning speech):

What’s he that twitters so?
My heroes don’t die Westmoreland? No, my late General
If we are marked to fry, we are enow
To do our country loss, and if to live,
The fewer men, the greater share of honour (if we ignore the lying news media)
My will, I pray me, wish not one man more
By Trump, I am not covetous for gold (for I have plenty already),
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost (whatever the Hell that’s supposed to mean
I’ll have to fire my latest speechwriter or Chief of Staff or press secretary),
It yearns me not if men my garments wear (for I am not transgendered- real men
can wear my garments),
Such outward things dwell not in my desires
(save to grab a fair woman’s ass as I said long years ago),
But if it be a sin to covet honour,
I am the most offending soul alive
(wow, this Bill Shakespeare was really prophetic
concerning my Presidency).
No faith my coz (save to attract Bible belt voters), wish not a man from England
(since my campaign slogan was America First!).
Trump’s pence! I would not lose so great an honour
As one man more (my VP) methinks would share from me
For the best hope I have (finishing my term without impeachment)
O, do not wish one more!
Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through thy ghost,
That he which hath no stomach for this fight,
Let him depart (or be deported); his passport shall be made (and then revoked!),
And crowns for convoy put into his purse (when he is thrown beyon’ yonder wall);

(At this point the amateur actor Snout from the Midsummer Night’s Theatre Company appears in front of Trump dressed as a brick wall. He has graffiti on his brick wall garment that says Gringoland or Bust!)

Snout (as Wall);

In this same interlude it doth befall
That I, one Snout by name, present a wall;
And such a wall, as I would have you think,…

Trump (pointing): Someone get this idiot out of here! Security! Security! Throw the bum out!

(Snout is grabbed by security and hauled away)

Trump (continues his speech quite literally ghostwritten by William Shakespeare):

We would not die in that man’s company
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is called Fry Kim Jong-un Day
(how Saint Hannibal of Lecter celebrated pre-Vatican II teaching on Friday’s culinary diets)
He that shall live this day (shall feel he’s been microwaved) and comes peeling away home
Shall watch his toes fall off when this day is named,
And rouse him at the name of Kim Jong-un.
He that shall live this day (singing Whoa, whoa, I’m radioactive) and welcome the New Age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast on his neighbours (or at least their remains),
And say ‘Tomorrow is Fry Kim Jong-un.’
Then will he strip his sleeve (with his new metallic cyborg hands) and show his scars,
And say, ‘These wounds I had on Fry Kim Jong-un Day.’
Old men forget (sometimes that they’re wearing a toupee); yet all shall be forgot
But he’ll remember, with cancerous sores,
What feets he lost that day. Then shall our names
Familiar in his mouth as decaying teeth-
Donald The Trump, Mattis and Tillerson,
McMaster and Kelly, Ivanka and Jared,
Be in their flowing cups (and streams of blood red) freshly rememb’ red.
This story shall the good man teach his son (Barron, where are you?);
And Fry Kim Jong-un shall ne’er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world (Trump looks at his watch) “Possibly another hour”,
But we in it shall be remembered (if the lying news media says I’m senile, it’s fake news) –
We few, we happy (but not gay) few, we band of brothers,
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother, be he ne’er so vile (as to be transgendered),
This day shall toughen his condition;
And gentlemen in England now-a-bed
Shall think themselves lucky they were not here,
And hold their (TV) remotes cheap while none will speak
As they watch on the screen the mushroom cloud that fell on Fry Kim Jong-un Day.

-A Shakespearean satirical speech
written by Christopher
Saturday August 12th
2017.

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The Strange Case of The Emerald Green Cat of Bulgaria 🇧🇬: A Poem

August 10, 2017 at 7:45 pm (Comedy, Culture, Detective story, Entertainment, Humour, Literature, Mystery, News, Poetry) (, , , , , )

The Strange Case of The Emerald Green Cat of Bulgaria 🇧🇬: A Poem

Jack O’ Hare
jack rabbit fair
he really was quite the bunny
that some thought was very funny

One day while he was out hopping
he decided to do some shopping
he spent some time looking at phones
as well as browsing through books about Sherlock Holmes

He bought the latter
avoided walking under a ladder
and went back to his quaint little home 🏡
right next to an abandoned honeycomb
Which was indeed a very wise thing
for Jack loved the way the birds sing
but not the way the bees sting

The latter could be a real pain in the ass
made it unpleasant to sit on the grass
so the honeycomb was long abandoned
possibly since the time of Aladdin

I wonder what became of his genie
Jack thought while eating a vegan weenie
He really should have bought some hot dog buns
although the raisin bran flavoured ones
often gave him the runs

Jack then read the Sherlock Holmes story A Study In Scarlet
and discovered it wasn’t about Mystery Babylon’s harlot
He read the huge volume straight through
while munching on his multi-carrot stew
he finally finished at The Adventure of Schoscombe Old Place
published in 1927
and closed the volume thinking Sherlock’s exploits were heaven

He decided upon putting the book 📚 on the shelf
and dusting off the statue of the garden elf
that like Holmes he’d become a consulting detective
because to be Inspector Lestrade was to be defective

So he put an ad to that effect in the Rabbit Weekly
even though his girlfriend told him it was so geeky 🤓
But come the Wednesday after the ad
came a Saint Bernard dog looking sad 😭 🐶

“I can’t get to sleep at night,” said he
the Saint Bernard dog Wally McGee
Asked Jack, Have you tried drinking herbal tea ☕️

It’s the apparition that appears outside my window each night that is the problem
I’m not sure if it’s ghost or goblin
sighed Wally with fear in his eyes
as he ate the last of Jack’s French fries 🍟

This will mean another run to the grocery store thought Jack
as I have no potatoes left in the sack
Neither will I have Lola
thought Jack as he sipped his Cola
ever since she caught him looking at Mae West’s melons
in an old movie about call girls and felons
She left Jack with these parting words, Aloha.

So as far as Jack’s love life went, he was now in the Lone Star ⭐️ State
but such were the quirks, twists and turns of Fate
Getting back to the problem at hand
Jack looked at the Saint Bernard dog well tanned
for this was a dog who had his day in the sun
as unleashed through a park, he went on a run

So describe the apparition you saw
Jack motioned with his foot to Wally’s paw
All right said Wally
pausing to look at a collie,
“Wow! There’s a real bitch in heat!”.
Sighed Jack, Be less like Trump and be more discreet.

So Wally went on, Getting back to the apparition at hand
it was the most terrifying sight in all the land
it frightened away our neighbourhood Calypso band
and turned my rock garden into mounds of sand

Sounds like quite the spectacle,
Jack was forming thoughts diametrical,
What was it exactly that you did see?
Well, said Wally, I had gotten up to pee,
I went out the back door to my favourite tree
And it was there I saw it
I don’t know what to call it

Describe it as best as you can,
Jack used a carrot 🥕 for a fan
for it was one heck of a hot summer night
the kind where goose bumps make your pants too tight

Said Wally,
By golly!
It was a ghostly ghastly feline
It was blocking the way to my tree line
It glowed emerald green
really quite the scene
and everywhere it went, it glowed in the dark
it could totally light up Central Park
and what I’m telling you is certainly no lark

Jack put on his deerstalker cap
his thinking hat with a flap
He lit up his Sherlockian style pipe
he had Basil Rathbone down to type

Well, Jack coughed
sending the chickens aloft,
this cat you describe I think I’ve heard of
from the lips of Vladimir Birdov
He died in my arms
On Green Acres Farms

He had recently come back from Varna, Bulgaria 🇧🇬
having encountered a cat with menthyl malaria
which it contracted from a little green frog 🐸
that had sat there like a bump on a log

And this unusual type of malaria
previously unknown in Bulgaria 🇧🇬
turned the cat’s colour to a ghostly emerald green
making this tabby the talk of the bar scene

But what’s it doing here in Canada 🇨🇦, Wally wanted to know
He was bursting a gut and quite possibly his toe
Jack looked at Wally and gave his hat a twirl
sending up pipe smoke in quite a widening curl
And then quietly said, Don’t be such a nerd
For you mean to say you haven’t heard,
Prime Minister Justin, unlike Trump, is welcoming all refugees
even those with a emerald green cat furry sneeze.

-A Jack O’ Hare poem
written by Christopher
Thursday August 10th
2017.

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The Real Reason Coleridge Never Completed His Poem Kublai Khan

August 10, 2017 at 3:24 pm (Humour, Literature, Poetry, The Supernatural) (, )

“What the Hell? But it’s only a crescent moon tonight…”

Samuel Taylor Coleridge Werewolf

The real reason Samuel Taylor Coleridge never completed his poem Kublai Khan.

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