Legacy of The Baskervilles

August 7, 2019 at 10:14 pm (Arts, Culture, Film, Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, Literature, Movies, Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , )

Legacy of The Baskervilles

“I always wanted to do a movie based on a Sherlock Holmes story,” said the ghost of Orson Welles as he entered Baskerville Hall.

“And you’re thinking of the Hound of The Baskervilles?” Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing asked.

“I am,” Welles lit himself a spectral cigar.

“Of course that story has been done several times in film format,” Van Helsing noted, “you will have to do something that makes yours stand out from the rest.”

“Precisement,” Welles pulled out a bottle of spectral red wine from one overcoat pocket and a glass from the other, “and I’m just the man to do it.”

“I would have to agree,” Van Helsing nodded.

“So I hear Baskerville Hall is now owned by Britain’s Heritage Trust,” Welles poured himself a glass of spectral red wine.

“It is,” Van Helsing acknowledged, “it was purchased recently by Dashwood Forrest the owner of The Dashwood Forrest Art Gallery in London. He donated it to Heritage Trust to get a big charity donation receipt to help him with a big tax deduction.”

“A most astute decision,” Welles sipped his red wine.

“So, have you given much thought to how you intend to make your adaptation of The Hound of The Baskervilles different?” Van Helsing asked.

“Let us go into the living room of Baskerville Hall,” Welles suggested, “perhaps seeing that large spacious room will give me some ideas.”

Welles and Van Helsing entered the living room.

And there stood….

The Welsh vampiress Morgana.

“As you know,” Morgana spoke, “Britain’s new Prime Minister Boris Johnson recently appointed me Deputy Home Secretary In Charge of Midnight Security. And both of you are trespassing on Heritage Trust property.”

Welles’ ghost made haste out of the living room and out of Baskerville Hall on the off chance that Morgana might sic the ghost of the Hound of the Baskervilles on him.

Only Dracul Van Helsing remained.

The Welsh vampiress took the vampire hunter over her knee and spanked him.

Welles’ ghost walked around the Baskerville Hall grounds and finished his spectral bottle of spectral red wine and smoked his entire spectral box of spectral cigars.

He thought he better go back inside and see what happened to Van Helsing.

There was Van Helsing on the living room floor having tantric sex with Morgana.

Welles turned and hastily closed the door behind him (forgetting that he could walk through doors and walls).

“Well,” Welles took out a piece of spectral chewing gum, “after seeing that scene, that should give me no shortage of ideas on how to make my film adaptation of The Hound of the Baskervilles different from everybody else’s.”

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday August 7th
2019.

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Harvey Tallbanger and Daniel Craig

April 26, 2019 at 10:29 pm (Espionage, Film, Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, International Espionage, International Intrigue, Movies, Mythology, News, Spy Tales, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , )

After his successful spying mission at the Vladivostok Summit between Vladimir Putin and King Jong-un, the 6 foot 8 invisible Welsh pooka bunny rabbit Harvey Tallbanger returned to London.

He went to the Hare and Hound Pub.

Standing inside the doorway of the Hare and Hound Pub was the stuffed original Hound of The Baskervilles who had been found a few years ago.

“I see the hound but where’s the hare?” Harvey Tallbanger asked as he sat up at the bar.

“You know, I’m sick of people asking me that…” the pubkeeper looked up from behind the bar and stopped, “Say, who’s there?”.

“Harvey Tallbanger,” the 6 foot 8 bunny rabbit replied, “I’m invisible. But I do have money to pay.”

The rabbit brought visible British £ currency out of his invisible blue denim coveralls.

“Oh God, I’ve gone insane!” The pubkeeper said.

“No, you haven’t,” Harvey flashed his most attractive invisible smile, “if you were, you’d be in the Oval Office right now with one hand smoothing down your ridiculous looking toupee and your other hand with its finger on the nuclear button when it isn’t busy tweeting on Twitter.”

“What will you have, my invisible friend?” The pubkeeper asked.

“A Tequila Sunrise, please,” the pooka answered.

The pubkeeper made a tequila sunrise and handed it to the tall bunny rabbit.

Actor Daniel Craig and actress Naomie Harris entered the pub.

“Oh, wow, James Bond and Miss Moneypenny!” Harvey exclaimed, “My hero and my heroine!”.

“Who was that?” The acting duo asked at the same time.

“Don’t mind him,” the pubkeeper answered, “He’s invisible.”

Bond and Miss Moneypenny (as Harvey thought of them) both ordered pints of the local draft.

“What?” Harvey was incredulous, “No martini shaken not stirred?”.

“That’s only in the movies,” Daniel Craig answered.

“How disappointing fiction is from reality,” Harvey remarked as he sat next to the poster of Claude Rains as The Invisible Man.

“Isn’t there any way people can see you?” Naomie Harris asked.

“My creator Dr. Cadbury Rocher informs me that if people drink a Harvey Wallbanger, they can see me,” the pooka replied.

“What’s in a Harvey Wallbanger?” Craig asked.

“1 1/2 ounces of vodka, 3 ounces of orange juice and half an ounce of Galliano,” Harvey replied.

“I should try making one of those,” the pubkeeper remarked and proceeded to do just that.

“So after Bond 25, you’ll be sailing off into the 007 sunset,” Harvey said over his sunrise.

“I will indeed,” Craig admitted.

“Howdy, Bartender,” a man with a Texas drawl entered the pub.

“Oh no,” the pubkeeper shook his head, “The idiot who keeps asking me the same question day after day.”

“Say, bartender,” the Texan pointed towards the stuffed Hound of The Baskervilles, “for a place called The Hare and Hound, I can see the hound but where’s the hare?”.

“Try one of these,” the pubkeeper placed a Harvey Wallbanger in front of the Texan.

The Texan took a few sips of the Wallbanger and then pointed at Harvey sitting on the other side of the bar, “It’s the hare. It’s the hare.”

“What?” Daniel Craig and Naomie Harris both looked in the direction of the invisible entity.

“It’s my shiny locks,” the bunny rabbit flashed an invisible grin to Daniel Craig, Naomie Harris and the pubkeeper, “and all because I use Johnson’s Baby Shampoo.”

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday April 26th
2019.


Miss Moneypenny had many adventures in life and someday she’d meet an invisible bunny rabbit.

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Reblog of Orson Welles and The Unusual Production of MacBeth

March 31, 2019 at 9:11 pm (Entertainment, Horror, Literature, Movies, Plays, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , )

A vampire novel chapter and blog post I wrote 4 years ago today.

Dracul Van Helsing

Orson Welles and The Unusual Production of MacBeth

It was March 1945.

And talented director and actor of stage, radio and film the great Orson Welles was directing a short scene from William Shakespeare’s MacBeth for an upcoming charity event.

Welles (in front of the stage): All right. Enter the three witches.

(Thunder and lightning. Enter three witches)

First Witch (lowering “her” cowl to reveal the face of Adolf Hitler- a fact which startles Orson Welles):

When shall we three meet again?
In thunder, lightning or in rain?

Second Witch (lowering her “cowl” to reveal the face of Josef Stalin- a fact which also startles Orson Welles):

When the hurlyburly’s done,
When the battle’s lost and won.

Third Witch (lowers its cowl to reveal a face wearing a mask. It speaks in a very metallic sounding voice):

That will be ere the set of sun.

(On the wall at the…

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When Cultures Meet: Reflections On Love, War and Conquest – A Short Poem

March 24, 2019 at 10:21 pm (love, Movies, Poetry, Romance) (, , )

War can conquer a man’s body and surroundings
But it is the dance that conquers a man’s heart

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Kraken Uhluhtc Causes Venezuela Electrical Blackout

March 11, 2019 at 10:56 pm (Film, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, International Intrigue, Movies, News, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

The Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec was sitting in her Mexico City penthouse apartment having a long distance phone conversation discussing the crisis in Venezuela with British MP Renfield R. Renfield.

“Do you have any idea what’s causing this massive electricity and power blackout that’s been going on in Venezuela since last Thursday?” Renfield asked.

Venezuelan President Nicolas Maduro and the U.S. government had both been blaming the other for causing the blackout.

“My sources tell me it’s Uhluhtc that’s causing the problem,” Qonzilqointec answered.

“And who’s Uhluhtc?” Renfield helped himself to a dish of calamari in front of him.

“Uhluhtc is a kraken that recently rose from the bottom of the Caribbean Sea a couple of years ago,” Qonzilqointec answered.

“I see,” Renfield added some Jamaican Hot Sauce to his calamari, “and what caused him to rise?”.

“North Korean leader Kim Jong-un reading aloud a passage from a medieval Korean edition of The Necronomicon by radio and loudspeaker to a North Korean ship named The Red Scorpion that was sailing in the Caribbean at the time,” the Aztec vampire princess replied.

“Really?” Renfield helped himself to some Korean dumplings and fried scorpion, “Interesting how this information is sort of forming a Jungian synchronicity with what I’m having on my lunchtime menu.”

“One of my drones spotted Uhluhtc attacking electrical transformers throughout Venezuela,” Qonzilqointec added.

“Any idea why he’s doing this?” Renfield found a toy figure of Godzilla as the prize in his box of children’s cereal.

“None whatsoever,” Qonzilqointec smoothed her dress and watched another one of her carrier pigeon shaped drones returning.

. . .

Donald Trump was receiving a briefing from the National Security Agency as his English butler and valet Lexington poured tea.

“Um, is it appropriate for him to be here?” The NSA operative pointed towards Lexington.

“That’s all right,” Trump shrugged, “he’s got high level security clearance.”

“Your English butler and valet has high-level security clearance?” The NSA operative was astounded.

“Hey,” Trump helped himself to a hot buttered crumpet, “if I can get high-level security clearance for my daughter and my son-in-law, I can get high-level security clearance for my English butler and valet.”

“Fuck everybody and let’s build a Trump casino in Moscow. Fuck everybody and let’s build a Trump casino in Moscow,” Trump’s pet Norwegian blue parrot squawked from inside his cage.

Trump was currently working on getting high-level security clearance for his parrot.

“Anyways we wiretapped a conversation New York Congresswoman Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez recently had in a Washington DC restaurant with Lev Tomi the Secretary-General of the UN Secretariat On The Environment and Climate Change,” the NSA operative explained.

“Bully for you, we need surveillance to find out what these Communist saboteurs are up to,” Trump accidentally pushed the Record button on his Huawei smart phone.

“They were discussing the Green New Deal,” the NSA operative said.

“I noticed,” Trump remarked as he drank his cup of Earl Grey Tea, “that even British MP Renfield R. Renfield who supports AOC’S plans for a single user pay national public health care system says that AOC “is out to lunch like most leftists are” when it comes to the subject of climate change.”

“Anyhow the Department of Homeland Security recently uncovered frightening information with regards to Lev Tomi,” the NSA operative read from his briefs as he dressed down to his briefs since it was rather hot in the Oval Office.

“And what was that?” Trump seeing the NSA operative dressed down to his briefs brought back memories of last year’s private one-on-one encounter with Vladimir Putin in which no aides nor translators were present.

“That Lev Tomi is in fact a vampire,” the NSA operative’s glasses steamed up, “and in his mortal life had been the Russian Communist Revolutionary Leon Trotsky. Trotsky did not die on the night of August 20th/21st 1940 succumbing to his ice axe wounds delivered by a Stalinist NKVD assassin as the history books teach us. Instead he was turned into a vampire by the Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec.”

“Aztec?” Trump felt a sudden craving for enchiladas, “They’re Mexican aren’t they?”.

“That is correct,” the NSA operative answered.

“Then I’m right to build that damned wall,” Trump pounded his fist on his desk.

“Begging your pardon, sir,” Lexington removed the Gloucester cheese from the table, “but if this Qonzilqointec is a vampiress, then she can just turn into a vampire bat and fly over the wall.”

“What a bummer,” Trump grimaced.

“That’s exactly what Putin said to me afterwards,” squawked the parrot, “that’s exactly what Putin said to me afterwards.”

. . .

Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing thought back to the 1941 film Sundown with Gene Tierney and George Sanders that he had been watching for the first time on YouTube early Sunday morning when his BBC app sounded a five second long musical note indicating a breaking news bulletin.

That was when he first heard about the tragic Ethiopian Airlines plane crash from Addis Ababa Ethiopia to Nairobi Kenya that had killed all 157 people on board.

Today after watching the news he found out that 18 Canadians had been aboard the plane including a Carleton University professor from Ottawa, a family of six from Brampton Ontario, an environmentalist from Winnipeg Manitoba and a young mother from Edmonton Alberta along with her 5-year-old daughter.

There was also an assistant pastor from the City of Calgary (who also worked as an accountant at Calgary City Hall) killed- a man that Dracul Van Helsing had personally met on one occasion.

In another connection to the City of Calgary, the pilot of the plane had an aunt who lived in Calgary.

In this interconnected world of the 21st Century, tragedy now connected all corners of the globe.


Gene Tierney in the movie Sundown 1941.
A movie that was set in the border region between Kenya and Ethiopia.
A movie that had as its premise the importance of Africa to world geopolitics and how Africa served as the pivotal point of the interconnectivity of the world.
It was while watching this film, a breaking BBC News bulletin on a tablet app showed that the premise still held true in the year 2019.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday March 11th
2019.

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Between The Moon and Sixpence: A Poem

March 2, 2019 at 10:29 pm (Art, Arts, Culture, Film, Life, love, Movie Reviews, Movies, Poetry, Romance, Theology) (, )

What lies between the moon and sixpence?
A pair of broken hearts?
A man who no longer loves his job selling in the City
A man who sacrifices all for art
His wife, children and comfortable home
Leaves London for the Bohemian haunts of Paris

But the biggest thing he left behind is his soul and his humanity
He is not kind, he is not cruel
He is indifferent
Which is the cruelest cruelty of all

But he is called a genius by a fellow artist
The same man whose wife he steals
And then abandons like yesterday’s canvas
Leaving behind a broken heart that takes its own life
How can he who paints such beauty be capable of such cruelty?

That is the eternal question
A man once thought that a watch left on the beach must have a creator
The same man applied it to the cosmos
This cosmos must have a creator
But for that watch on the beach
what was its maker like?
Was he cruel?
Was he kind?
We know not.
The same applies for the cosmos.
If a maker the cosmos has
Is he cruel? Is he kind?
Iago in Verdi’s Otello says he serves a cruel god
The explanation (that Shakespeare never offered)
As to why Iago told such lies about Desdemona to his friend Othello

That is the ultimate horror
If the cosmos a creator has
is ultimately a cruel being
Rather than face that horror
that’s why many atheism and agnosticism embrace
Though ironically in Transhumanism modern
The theory is posed,
We all live in a computer generated matrix
But then who created that matrix?

To substitute God for ultimate Virtual Reality designer
The question of kindness and cruelty remains unanswered

Lucifer was an artist
That ultimate rebel
For only an artist can seduce
The Satan of the Book of Job was the fallen Archangel Samael
An angelic lawyer who fell
like lawyers are prone to do
He takes away and scatters
But he cannot seduce
like Lucifer the Devil did to Eve
He promises beauty and godhood
But cannot deliver
for he is ultimately not the source of both

Between the moon and sixpence
our artist anti-hero decides Paris is not
and goes to Tahiti
that South Pacific paradise
And will he finally find Paradise there?

There he finds Ata a South Seas woman
and there he says words he’d never thought he’d speak, “Love”
And there the man paints Eden
on the walls of his hut
Towards the end of his life he becomes kind
Not cruel
Not indifferent
For genius on its own can never find Paradise
It needs to hold the hand of Love

Angst ridden artists, poets and musicians history has seen many
Some have seduced and left broken hearts by the thousands
Others were kind and compassionate
The ability to create is a form of beauty
It is alluring
And with its allure
comes the ability to seduce

Creating beauty is only true when mixed with love and kindness
And leaves the perturbing question
Was the Creator of the Cosmos one with love?

To create a cosmos so vast and all encompassing
We mortal beings cannot comprehend such a Creator
Surely a giant?
Or maybe a phony hiding behind a curtain like that wizard of Oz?

The instances of love we can comprehend
Such as a child in its mother’s arms
The smile of the child towards mother
And the smile of the mother towards child

And that is why Oscar Wilde
whose Dorian Gray showed so shockingly how art and beauty could be used for evil
embraced as Creator the Babe who was born in Bethlehem
In whose humanity and divinity, Love and Intellect are one.

-A poem written by Christopher
Saturday March 2nd
2019
inspired by watching
the 1942 movie
The Moon and Sixpence

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Nice Work On The Trinity Case, Mr. Albion: A Poem

February 22, 2019 at 11:57 pm (Crime, Culture, Detective story, Entertainment, Film, Movies, Mystery, Poetry) (, , , )


“Nice work on the Trinity case, Mr. Albion.”

They came to Hollywood by the dozens
In search of fame and fortune
Positive they’d be the next goddess of the silver screen
Girls from the mid-west, girls from the northeast, girls from the south,
Girls from Canada
and girls from Mexico.

Such a girl was Trinity Esperanza
From Mexico City
19, she’d come to Hollywood with stars in her eyes
A week later
She had disappeared
A woman from another country
disappeared?
Who cares was the attitude here

Her disappearance wasn’t even reported in the press here
Just another foreigner who disappeared
Carson Cody Albion Private Eye would not have known about it
Unless the girl’s grandmother hadn’t shown up in his office

“Please find Trinity,” She begged
As she emptied her purse on the table
And with all the money sitting there
Albion looked down at the table
And counted the money in his head
$37.42

“Mrs. Esperanza,” he poured himself another glass of bourbon,
“How much money do you have in your bank account?”
” $37.42″, she answered.
Albion looked at her,
Drank the glass of bourbon
Lit himself a cigarette
And blew smoke at the ceiling
Where the fan quickly dispersed it to the 4 corners of his world-
his office.

“Put your money away,” he told Mrs. Esperanza, “this one’s on the house.”

Like all cases involving disappeared girls and Hollywood
The answer involved sex slaves and lecherous Hollywood producers
For what lay behind the red moviehouse theatre curtains
and the silver screen
was not silver
And definitely not gold

Images of dead Presidents on paper was the currency
And a lot of it
That was the language of Hollywood
Behind the scenes

Carson Cody Albion found Trinity
A prostitution ring that catered to those who lived behind the pearly gates of Beverly Hills
Paradise to those who owned the place
But Hell for some of those who worked there

Albion found Trinity
And after negotiating with the producer
Trinity was freed.
The price?
The real Maltese Falcon from that film a few years back.
Turned out the producer was a big fan of movies made by rival studios.

Albion’s burglary skills came in handy
and not even Sherlock Holmes could have solved the case
Basil Rathbone had other roles to play

Of course no one in LA seemed to care that a young Mexican girl was found
Save when Albion delivered Trinity to Mrs. Esperanza
One customer in a barber shop reflected the thinking
in general
They ought to build a wall to keep those people out
Albion looked at the man from the barber chair where he sat
“Thank God,” Albion thought, “FDR sits in the Oval Office and not this man”.

One day Albion was wandering on the set of the movie Cover Girl
When Rita Hayworth of all people addressed him,

“Nice work on the Trinity case, Mr. Albion.”
So spoke the woman whose real name was Margarita Carmen Cansino.

And on this night
Carson Cody Albion sat in a bar
He decided to order a glass of wine for a change
Maybe it was time he showed a little class as an ex-girlfriend once said to him
“Class? What is it?” Albion asked himself as he lit a cigarette

He reached into his coat pocket to pay the bill
“Put your money away,” Julio the bartender said, “this one’s on the house.”

-A Private Eye Poem
written by Christopher
Friday February 22nd
2019.

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The Clock of Thoth: A Poem

January 14, 2019 at 11:53 pm (Art, Arts, Film, Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, Gothic, Gothic poem, Gothic romance, History, International Intrigue, love, Movies, Mythology, News, Philosophy, Poetry, Romance, The Occult, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , )


Tefna listening to the sound of the Clock of Thoth tick.

The young woman called Tefna
was in her apartment bedroom
listening to the sound of
the Clock of Thoth tick

A clock designed by her father
A master clock maker
At the stroke and bong of each hour
Two figures would come out
The first was Thoth
The ibis headed ancient Egyptian god
Of the moon, magic and writing
And of course the Egyptian god who
was the recorder of time

The other figure was an Egyptian Pharaoh
who bore the likeness of the young
Actor/Director Orson Welles
The year was 1945
The date was August 6th
Feast of the Transfiguration
On the Church calendar
When Christ showed his Divine Deity
To his Apostles Peter, James and John

Tefna awaited news on what would become of her fiance
a sailor in the U.S. Navy still involved in the War In The Pacific
against Japan
Thor’s lightning bolt insigna warriors in Germany
had surrendered months earlier
but no word yet on those who fought for the ancient gods of Japan

A young American scientist J. Robert Oppenheimer
was seeking to become the Hindu god Shiva
The destroyer and transformer of worlds
But Tefna was unaware of him and his plans
And what they could possibly mean for her
As she listened to the ticking of the Clock of Thoth
On the wall
Tick-tock! Tick-tock!
As she always did at this same time every night
Before she went to bed

In the apartment next door
Hera the divine goddess queen of the Olympians
awaited the report of an immortal private eye
Carson Cody Albion

The Greek goddess Hera- that’s Juno to the ancient Romans!

She had suspected her husband Zeus
was getting it on with the modern goddesses
of the silver screen in Hollywood
The fact that she had heard him talking on the phone
seeking to borrow swan and bull costumes
from studio costume departments
only added to her suspicions.

In the apartment on the other side of Tefna
sat Hestia the Greek goddess of hearth and home

Hestia suspected that hearth and home would come to be neglected in America following the war
As both men and women followed Mammon
the ancient Babylonian god of banking and commerce
Who had helped America defeat Thor’s modern worshippers

All these things were unfolding in the building around Tefna
As she listened to the sound of the Clock of Thoth
tick on the wall

Tick-tock! Tick-tock! went the Clock of Thoth on the wall
As Tefna listened.

The Greek goddess Athena was there in black and white

on the silver screen
in the old repertory movie theatre
in West Hollywood
on January 14th
when Dracul Van Helsing
entered the theatre
and entered the screen
and then entered Athena
to sample hidden portals of wisdom

In the Dashwood Forrest Art Gallery in London
Dashwood Forrest looked at the painting
of Demeter
The Greek goddess of fields, crops and agriculture
looking down on a field of 19th Century French peasant women
Bringing in the sheaves for harvest

Looking at the painting
Dashwood Forrest was shocked to see and hear
Demeter speak to the French women,
What sort of powerful magician could seduce my Persephone
away from her husband

As Athena found tantric sex to be a tantalizing experience
On the silver screen in a West Hollywood repertory theatre
actress Akira Lane was showing a robotics maker
fresh from a technology show in Las Vegas
what wonders old technology could do
when blended with ancient magic
As an Irish Jewish science-fiction writer
George Finneganburg
hastily took notes

Meanwhile in a London casino
Former British Labour MP
The Welsh werewolf Magog Rhys Petley
(whose seat was now held by
British Transhumanist MP
Welsh vampiress Morgana)
walked in on an unexpected orgy
taking place on a casino table

The casino’s kinky quartet looked at him, smiled
and advised him not to miss Lord L’s
Super Wolf Blood Moon Party
in Washington DC
next Sunday night

with the brunette in short skirt and black silk fishnet pantyhose
Sitting atop the casino table
telling him not to miss it for the world

Renfield R. Renfield MP
had just finished writing his speech to move
a motion of non-confidence in Theresa May’s government
following the Brexit vote in the Westminster Parliament tomorrow
When suddenly he walked out into his Parliamentary office
waiting room
Where the Vietnamese vampiress Ho Babylon Minh

was waiting for him

Causing Renfield to burst the zipper on his trousers
When he saw her
He would have to buy himself a new suit
to deliver the speech in Parliament tomorrow

It was a moonlit night in Port Elizabeth South Africa
As the great South African artist SAREJESS
sat in the middle of the street with his easel and canvas
and paintbrush and paints
(praying that no motorists would be driving down the street this late at night to abruptly and undoubtedly painfully put an end to his lunar nocturnal painting expedition)
and painted what he saw

He would paint this quiet tranquil scene
before the ghost of a brontosaurus showed up
and walked across the street
And before the ghost ship of THE ghost ship
The Flying Dutchman
appeared on the surface of the water
on the horizon in the distance
As he sat there painting the canvas,
he wondered whether his wife and family were right
to think he was crazy

And there at one moment in time
somewhere in time
sat Tefna
always anxiously sitting on the bed
always anxiously awaiting for the phone to ring
to bring her news of her love
Same place
Same time
Night after night

but no sound of a phone ringing
Only the sound of the Clock of Thoth ticking
Tick-tock! Tick-tock!

-A poem and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday January 14th
2019.

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What Is Causing The Paris Riots: A Free Verse Poem As Explanation

December 7, 2018 at 11:58 pm (Comedy, Geopolitics and International Relations, Horror, International Intrigue, love, Movies, Music, Musicals, Mystery, Mystery/horror, Mythology, News, Poetry, Romance, The Occult, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , )

Several weeks ago, the Cyborg Octopus Kraken
Who called himself Emperor Napoleon VI
Had been dining with his wife Medusa
(The ex-Gorgon famed for getting people stoned
In the glory days of classical and ancient Greece)
In a Parisienne cafe
When Medusa suddenly found Vincent Van Gogh’s ear
In her house salad
so she sent it back.

“I hate to do this to you, Banksy,”
The salad prep chef said to
The famous graffiti street artist
As he cut his ear off with a carving knife
Banksy had thought of becoming a musician
As well as an artist
but now he had no ear for music.

“Much better,” Medusa said
As she bit into Banksy’s ear.
“You’re becoming somewhat cannibalistic in your old age,”
The Kraken remarked as he bit into the evening dinner special
which was roast octopus.

“How old do you think I am?”
asked Medusa
who used Oil of Olay
She looked very young indeed.

Medusa then bit into the fried snake
As the hairs on her head stood on end.

“Charmed I’m sure,” Sir Anthony Hopkins tipped his hat
And bowed to the couple
as he exited
(He had eaten the roast lamb souvlaki that evening)
He was in Paris doing a one night special performance
at Le Phantome Masquerade
Musique de Le Soir
Faberge Garnier Christian Dior Coco Chanel Opera House –
a musical version of
The Silence of The Lambs.

Jodie Foster emerged from the restaurant closet
with a woman tennis player and a woman golf player
and followed the knighted Welsh actor
to the theatre
as director Martin Scorsese
tried to hail a taxi driver
and Beelzebub the lord of the flies
plotted the last temptation of Christ.

“You don’t seem to be enjoying your roast octopus this evening,”
The Norse trickster god Loki
(who looked and talked a lot like actor Jack Nicholson)
remarked
as he fed Donald Trump’s toupee
(which he had swiped from the Oval Office of the White House)
to the restaurant Maitre’ D’s pet red spider monkey.

“I’d like to be Emperor of France,”
The Kraken calling himself Napoleon VI
wiped a tear from his eye,
“but I can’t while Emmanuel Macron is President.”

“Hm, I think I can do something about that,”
Loki remarked as Ricky Martin’s dinner date for the evening
accidentally peed all over Loki’s Casablanca Humphrey Bogart looking white dinner jacket
turning it a very vibrant yellow colour.

“And I think I’ve got an idea,”
Loki remarked
as he looked down at his now yellow coloured jacket
and just received a text message on his smart phone
from his accountant
on what would be the heating cost
of his Paris apartment
next year.

“And that dear children,”
The inebriated looking Santa Claus
took off his wired rimmed glasses
and wiped them
at the Ayn Rand Daycare Centre
where he was speaking,
“is how the origins of the Paris riots
and fires came to pass.”

-A comedy horror poem
and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday December 7th
2018.


Rita Hayworth won’t be coming down Emmanuel Macron’s chimney tonight.

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Orson Welles’ Original Fake News Broadcast 80 Years Ago Today

October 30, 2018 at 11:47 pm (Arts, Culture, Entertainment, Fantasy, Fashion, Film, Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, International Intrigue, Literature, love, Movies, Mystery/horror, News, Plays, Radio, Science-Fiction, Short play, theatre, Theatre Arts, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , )

80 years ago today, the great Orson Welles and the Mercury Theatre On The Air presented a radio play adaptation of H.G. Welles’ 1897 science-fiction novel The War of The Worlds.

The play was presented by Welles as a series of realistic sounding news bulletins interrupting a program of orchestral dance music on the CBS Radio Network from New York City.

The program was held on Sunday October October 30th 1938 (the evening before Halloween) and a few people took it seriously.

It was one Hell of a Halloween prank on Welles’ part.

If Donald Trump had been around at the time, he would have called it “fake news” and it would have been one of the few times in history that Trump was actually right about something.


Gene Tierney to Orson Welles, “I don’t know, Orson. It sounds to me like a very naughty broadcast and you should be spanked soundly on the bare bottom for going ahead with it.”

Orson: Well, Miss Tierney, if you’re the one doing the spanking, I shall not mind.


Gene Tierney (listening in on the radio on October 30th 1938):
Oh, Orson, Orson, I’m going to have to spank you after all.


Laura (talking to a future suspect in her future murder): And where were you on the night of the Orson Welles broadcast?

Future Suspect (in Laura’s future murder): I was dropping a living woman into a vat of acid in the basement of a wax museum to turn her into a wax figurine of Queen Marie Antoinette. And where were you, my dear?

Laura: I was getting my portrait painted. Who knows if I’m ever murdered, some future police detective might look at my painting and fall in love with me.

Future Suspect (in Laura’s future murder): How charmingly macabre, my dear. You should run for Congress in the year 2018.


I’m a witch and I ain’t afraid of no Martian. And I say, spankings for all.


Alfred Hitchcock (making himself some pumpkin pie): I’ll second that.


Well, what are you waiting for? Over my knee, Alfred.


With Alfred taking a paddling at Veronica Lake, who will eat my pumpkin pie?


I shall swoop down with my pussy and eat your pie.


I the cyborg ripper, creation of the Martian invaders of New Jersey, shall seek to kill all AI sex robots created in the year 2018. Let George Finneganburg beware. Tell Akira I’m coming.


Linda Darnell (listening in on the radio in 1938 to a radio broadcast from the future year 2018): How like Orson or at least his theatrical apostolic successor Christopher Dracul Van Helsing to having the cyborg ripper killer robot destroyed after tripping over the tail of a drunken otter named Jefferey who drank too many bottles of Otterbury Green Minnow Beer while reciting the Otterbury Tales. DARPA’S Nibiruan otter mascot once again saves the world from Martian invaders and their cyborg ripper killer robots of future AI sex robots like the Amazing Akira.


The Amazing Akira: She would have kicked the cyborg ripper killer robot’s ass if God in His mercy had not allowed the Martian invader of New Jersey created cyborg ripper killer robot Jack Raven (who murdered someone’s lost love Lenore shouting “Nevermore!” and then descecrated a statue of Pallas Athena) to destroy himself by tripping over the tail of the passed out drunken otter Jefferey…

… Orson Welles’ radio broadcast narration ended with the above words.

-A Halloween montage
written by Christopher
Tuesday October 30th
2018.

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