90 Winters: A Poem

October 27, 2017 at 5:12 pm (Biographical, Commentary, History, Life, Obituaries, Personal essays, Poetry) (, , , )

90 Winters: A Poem

The Medicine Man Chief of the Blackfoot Nation smoked his pipe
and looked out across the distant prairies at the distant hills
He then began his tale,
90 winters ago
Gitche Manitou sent a wise soul into this world
The same month that talking motion pictures were born
Al Jolson had said, “Wait a minute… you ain’t heard nothing yet”
A few weeks later a baby uttered his first cries under the vast blue dome of an Alberta prairie sky
A child who learned to read when he was 3 years old
Reading the Bible and Shakespeare and Charles Dickens was his fare
When he was 4, his father went away from the farm to work,
that same winter his mother took ill with scarlet fever
And he was raised that winter by a Cree First Nations Medicine woman
She taught him the power of herbs and roots
and how to heal using them
He started his public schooling at the age of 5
in a one room schoolhouse
called Elba
a school built in 1914
on the 100th anniversary of Napoleon Bonaparte’s 1st exile
his exile to the island of Elba
In 1936 at the age of 9
George had determined that Adolf Hitler
was a bad person
so he was going to build himself an airplane
and fly over to Berlin Germany
and bump him off
like Saint George slaying the evil dragon

He built himself an airplane all right
a Wright Brothers style aircraft
much to his family’s and farm neighbours’ amazement
He wisely sat on the very back seat of the plane
as the plane’s navigator
while his elder brother sat in the front seat of the plane
as the pilot
That way if their lift-off was unsuccessful
as they took off the hill over the
Rosebud Creek valley
and the plane landed in the creek
it would be his elder brother who wound up first in the Creek
George wisely reasoned
while he George would have time to jump off the back seat
before the plane landed in the Creek

Well the plane never made it to Germany
not even to Newfoundland
not even as far as the Alberta-Saskatchewan border
but George’s elder brother Tom
certainly enjoyed a very close up look of Rosebud Creek
right in the creek
as George wisely determined after take-off that the plane
wouldn’t reach its destination
so George wisely jumped off the back seat
as the plane made it to the ground
heading straight for the creek
with pilot Tom in the front seat
cursing and swearing
and prophetically foretelling
the language and dialogue
on most TV programs in
the early 21st Century

The 4-Minute mile was not broken by Roger Bannister
at the 1954 British Empire Games in Vancouver
but by George on that day in 1936
as he sought to escape
his dripping wet and deeply agitated elder brother
who chased after him from the creek

George reached the safety of his parents’ house in time.

In the early 1940s as a teenager, George studied palaeontology under the great palaeontologist Dr. Charles Mortram Sternberg in the Red Deer River Badlands
In the mid-1940s, he studied Science and Engineering at Mount Royal College in Calgary
In the late ’40s and early ’50s,
he studied History and English Literature at the University of Alberta
He finally settled on becoming a teacher
passing on his knowledge and wisdom to future generations of children
In the 1960s at Sherwood Heights Junior High School
he and his students built small rockets
that went soaring high into the skies
above that place of Alberta suburbia known as Sherwood Park
A sight that startled many Sherwood Park residents
who thought they were under Soviet missile attack

The principal of the school instructed George not to build
rockets that soared so high
Among George’s students was future astronomer and physicist
Dr. Paul Hickson
who pioneered work in the reflecting mercury liquid telescope

Among George’s students in the ’70s was future palaeontologist Michael Caldwell
who discovered the world’s first fossil of a flying snake in Israel

In the late ’80s George retired from active teaching
and was hired by the Alberta Department of Education
to give training workshops
to beginning Science teachers

In the ’90s, George began painting pictures
and mastered that medium
In the early 21st Century, George
began research for a 3-volume history of Western Canada
that he was going to write
In June of 2010, he was half-way through the 2nd volume of his 3-volume history of Western Canada
when he died from cancer.

90 winters ago, this man was born.

-A poem written by Christopher
Friday October 27th 2017
on what would have been
his father George’s
90th birthday.

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I’m Taking A Break Off WordPress For A Week To 10 Days

October 15, 2017 at 8:15 pm (Life, News, Personal essays, Vampire novel) (, , , )

I’m Taking A Break Off WordPress For A Week To 10 Days

To all my friends, readers and fellow bloggers, I’m just letting you know that I’m taking a break off WordPress for the next week to 10 days.

I have been continuously blogging since January 4th of this year- which is probably the longest spell I’ve spent continuously blogging but now I’m starting to feel the growing pangs of writer’s burnout.

So I’m taking a week to 10 days off WP so I can re-charge my batteries as it were.

I’ll read your comments and blogs when I get back. 🙂

But seeing as how Renfield R. Renfield seems to be the favourite character in my vampire novel for a lot of people (including myself), I’ll leave you with some samples of how Renfield spent his day today:

Renfield received a note from Dr. Cadbury Rocher on how today October 15th 2017 was the 100th Anniversary of the execution of the famous femme fatale World War I spy Mata Hari.

So today to celebrate the occasion, Dr. Rocher had genetically cloned Mata Hari.

20 years ago, the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set had hired a trio of unemployed jewel thieves to steal Mata Hari’s head from the Paris Museum of Anatomy.

The head had been in Set Enterprises’ possession ever since and using DNA from the head, Dr. Rocher had successfully created a fully grown adult female clone.

As for Renfield’s own activities, he had hacked into a meeting of those anarcho-Communists who called themselves Antifa who were meeting in a city in the U.S. and played on the projector in the room where they were meeting that 3 minute 13 second clip from the 1972 movie Cabaret where the Hitler youth starts singing Tomorrow Belongs To Me and hundreds of Germans stand up and join in the singing.

Then in another U.S. city, a group of Neo-Nazis and Ku Klux Klansmen were meeting. Renfield hacked into their projector and started playing a video of Martin Luther King’s I Have A Dream speech.

Lastly Renfield examined a female sex robot that Dr. Cadbury Rocher had just created.

The robotic female looked ultra-realistic, ultra-human, ultra beautiful and ultra sexy.

She was also dressed in a sexy outfit- a corset and leather mini skirt which could easily be removed.

The female robot even had a realistic feeling vagina.

The only thing was when a potential sex partner hit the robotic clitoris with a certain part of his anatomy, this would spring a built-in beaver trap in the vagina that would automatically clang on top of that person’s anatomical part.

Renfield put the female sex robot in a box and then had the box courier delivered to Hollywood producer Harvey Weinstein. The tag outside the box read A Special Gift Just For You.

-A personal essay
and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday October 15th
2017.

Permalink 26 Comments

Back In The Saddle

July 6, 2017 at 10:23 pm (Life, News, Personal essays) ()

Back In The Saddle

Well last Wednesday, I was way up in northeast Calgary.
Returning back, I caught the C-Train.

The driver announced that Marlborough Station was closed due to a police incident. A shuttle bus would drive Bus passengers from Rundle to Franklin Station.

I thought that was fine but then it turned out 4 blocks west of Marlborough was also shut down as well as 4 blocks east.

There was a massive horrendous traffic jam.

So I got off the bus and decided it would be just quicker for me to walk to Franklin Station.

The trouble was the route is underground from Marlborough to Franklin on the train so I had no idea really how to get there.

So the direction I thought I was walking to Franklin took me completely in another direction.

I wound up 30 blocks away in southeast Calgary before I recognized where I was.

A street where I caught the No. 1 bus going west to Bow Ness or the No. 1 bus going east to Forest Lawn.

But the entire street was under construction.

I had no idea where the bus stops were now.

But I knew across the avenue, I could catch the No. 23 bus to the Chinook C-Train Station which was way out of my way from where I wanted to go downtown.

But it was the only place I recognized.

So that’s what I did.

The No. 23 arrived and I caught it.

The No. 23 from there takes a very long route to get to the Chinook Station.

And to top it off, a stupid Canadian Pacific railway train decided to cross the tracks on the route holding the bus up for another 20 minutes.

Needless to say I was really inwardly cussing and swearing at that point in time.

Eventually the No. 23 pulled up to Chinook Station.

I got out and caught the C-Train downtown.

Eventually I wound up at the downtown restaurant I wanted to go to 2 hours later than I intended.

And all because some stupid jackass had left a smoking package in front of a car dealership across from Marlborough Station.

But as a result of being 2 hours late, I was telling the waitress my day’s adventures.

The woman sitting next to me overheard and we started talking.

Eventually I wound up telling her the story of my life the past 7 years- the 7 years of Hell I’ve been through since my dad died.

I recounted all this in my previous blog post Orwell’s 1984 Arrives In 2017- my 7 years of Hell.

Anyhow she was so taken by my story, she offered to get me a new iPhone so I could continue my writing and my blogging.

Today she dropped it off at the building where I reside.

So I’m now back in the saddle to continue writing my blog.

Despots and jackasses of the world beware.

Renfield R. Renfied (Britain’s equivalent of Raymond Red Reddington) is back.

-A personal essay
written by Christopher
Thursday July 6th
2017.

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Orwell’s 1984 Has Arrived In 2017

June 27, 2017 at 3:41 pm (Commentary, Culture, Literature, Personal essays) (, , , , )

I’m currently sitting here in a coffee shop with free wi-fi having borrowed an honest looking stranger’s laptop to use for a while.

Hopefully he is honest and this laptop won’t remember my passwords.

I don’t know if he believed my story but I think to his shock he did.

Because the way I talked, I think he realized my story did have the ring of truth to it even though what happened to me 24 hours ago feels (and will probably read to you the reader) like a dystopian sci-fi novel.

Judging from his expression, I don’t think he thinks I’m a crazy person either.

He seems to be thinking “What the Hell sort of world are we now living in?” judging from the expression on his face.

Since I’m borrowing a stranger’s laptop, I don’t know if I’ll be able to finish this blog post today (I’m starting it just after 2:30 PM Mountain Daylight Time June 25th 2017) as he may have elsewhere to go in the next hour or so.

But I’m writing this blog post in the form of an email to myself which I will then save as a draft if I don’t finish it before the gentleman wants to leave.

The long and short of it is I can no longer use the computers in the Calgary Public Library- my only source for being able to use computers as I do not own a computer nor do I no longer have a smart phone (as it was stolen from me back in January).

The past couple of months as I’ve been writing, I’ve noticed I’ve attracted an incredible amount of new readers.

Since I don’t really like talking about myself much (I’ve always been an introvert), I spend most of my time at this blog Dracul Van Helsing writing the chapters in my on-line vampire novel, writing short stories or writing poems or haikus (as all my long time readers can probably attest to).

Only when something traumatic happens like not being able to find a job after months of searching, being evicted from my apartment, winding up in a homeless shelter or having my smart phone stolen off me while I slept on a mat in a homeless shelter and then what happened yesterday (which my mind still has trouble adjusting to- I feel like I’ve fallen asleep and can’t wake up- that somehow I’m trapped in the middle of a dystopian sci-f film about an Orwellian future).

Most of my new readers (who have joined my blog the past couple of months) would probably be shocked to realize that I am homeless and jobless. (that’s why I’ve had to use the computers in the Calgary Public Library to do my writing).

I’m currently living in a transitional housing facility for single homeless men (which is a step above a homeless shelter) and getting my rent paid for by a disability income supplement I’m now on through Alberta Social Services.

I don’t drink or smoke or take drugs (and that’s been the case all my life).

How I wound up jobless and homeless is a very long story.

But for those who’d like to know my background of how I’ve wound up in this predicament, please read the following past blog posts where I’ve explained what’s happened to me in the past:

https://draculvanhelsing.wordpress.com/2015/11/17/please-email-vancouvers-mayor/

https://draculvanhelsing.wordpress.com/2016/07/27/im-in-a-homeless-shelter/

https://draculvanhelsing.wordpress.com/2017/01/04/theft-in-a-homeless-shelter/

https://draculvanhelsing.wordpress.com/2017/02/17/homeless-and-suicidal-in-calgary/

(Please note that the bank account behind my GoFundMe page that I mention in some of those blog posts is no longer operational since that bank account has now been shut down plus I no longer own an apartment to pay rent to).

I hope some of my readers will take the time to read those blog posts.

To help them realize that all homeless people cannot be painted all with one brush.

I think the number of new readers I have who enjoy my writing would probably be shocked to know that I am homeless and jobless.

Well I’m now telling them.

I’m Christopher who writes vampire novel chapters and poems and short stories and haikus here in this blog post which I sign off at the end of each blog post saying written by Christopher and I then give the date on which I wrote it.

One of my new readers Aak fictionspawn has a friend and fellow blogger who wrote a short story called The Shoemaker Who Made Wooden Toys. I forget her name -the woman who wrote the story- but I strongly identify with her character.

Like the character in that story I’m just brimming with new ideas and insights but a world whose sole concern is with business and making money in the usual time honoured manner (no wanting to accept or hire people who think outside the box even though the great Steve Jobs of Apple started out as a man who thought outside the box), I don’t fit into this current world.

And that’s why I’m jobless and homeless.

Although someone somewhere has obviously taken note of my writing and doesn’t like what I’m writing and furthermore sees me as a threat to what they’re doing.

And that’s the reason why I can no longer use computers in the Calgary Public Library system.

And now we’ll get to the main point of this particular blog post:

First off, I’ll start out by saying that I do believe in God.

At one time, I wouldn’t have thought that people who believe in God would ever seriously contemplate suicide.

But after the sheer Hell I’ve been through the past 7 years since my dad died from cancer (the Hell I’ve described in the blog posts I posted above there), I’m sad to say that there have been several times the past 7 years where I’ve seriously contemplated suicide.

This may be due to the severe clinical depression I was diagnosed with by a doctor when I arrived in Calgary last July from Vancouver.

A clinical depression brought on by the PTSD she says I experienced after my dad died and then suddenly finding myself in a legal battle with my sister over his estate. That PTSD of course remained undiagnosed and untreated for years leading to the severe condition that my depression is in today.

Bearing that in mind with my belief in God, I’ve had this strong overwhelming urge to write and continue writing since last November.

When I got an eviction notice from the town house I was living in last December and spent a lot of time away from my writing to search for a new place to live (which I didn’t find since Christmas and the pre-Christmas season isn’t exactly an ideal time to search for new accommodation) and finally ended up again in a homeless shelter on January 1st New Year’s Day this year where my iPhone was then stolen off of me in that same shelter back on January 3rd.

So without an iPhone where I could do my writing using the free wi-fi in coffee shops, I was then forced to do all my writing using the computers in the Calgary Public Library.

I’ve not been able to afford a new smartphone and I definitely can’t afford a new computer (be it tablet, laptop or PC) since I have to use my disability income allowance (which is only about $750 a month) to pay for rent and food.

And of course one could only use the computers in the Calgary Public Library for a maximum of 2 hours a day (although that has now been increased to 3 hours in the summer when many people are no longer indoors using the computers but unfortunately I can no longer do that).

A friend and fellow blogger Daniel (a former employee of DARPA in the U.S.) once told me in reference to my writing that probably a lot of intelligence agencies throughout the world would be or are interested in my writing since Daniel says that even though I write fiction, I often show very astute geopolitical analysis in my writing and can often predict some major geopolitical events before they happen.

This can often happen in the medium of writing.

For example the 1898 novella The Wreck of The Titan by Morgan Robertson was about an ocean liner called The Titan which sinks in the North Atlantic after striking an iceberg. The Titan and its sinking was very similar to the sinking of the real life passenger ship RMS Titanic which sank 14 years later in 1912.

Both Titan and Titanic sank in the month of April in the North Atlantic and there were not enough lifeboats for all the passengers. The Titan was 800 ft. long and the Titanic was 882 ft. long. The speed of the Titan was 25 knots and the speed of the Titanic was 22.5 knots.

Both were triple screw propeller ships. Both were described as “unsinkable”. The Titan was 45,000 tons and the Titanic was 46,000 tons.

Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World has been described as a prophetic novel.

And as the title of my blog post suggests, George Orwell’s 1984 has seemed to arrive in the year 2017.

Although what happened to me yesterday (Saturday June 24th 2017) might better be seen as a combination of Orwell’s 1984 meets Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451. Although instead of burning and banning books, certain individuals are now prohibited from using the computers in the public library.

In terms of my own writing, I was shocked when I read the manuscript for my 1st vampire novel The Vampiress With Amnesia (which I wrote between April 2009 and July 2010) last year. The novel is now available for sale on Amazon.

Since I do not know how to convert text to a PDF format (which is required for upload to Amazon), my friend and fellow blogger Daniel (the former DARPA employee) did it for me.

He then emailed me the entire PDF manuscript to look over and check for corrections.

Which I did early last year (2016).

I of course had not read that novel in 6 years.

I was shocked to discover back in 2010 to see that I had written a chapter about a group of cardinals plotting to force Pope Benedict XVI to abdicate the Papacy. I even described the methods they would use to do it. And how the German magazine Der Spiegel and the U.S. newsmagazine TIME would be used for their purposes.

Because at the time I re-read my novel, there were stories starting to break in the news media about how that is exactly what happened with the papal resignation of Pope Benedict XVI.

(And that was a cliffhanger about Pope Benedict XVI because I had to stop writing and save this blog post as an email draft at that point because the gentleman whose laptop I was using finally had to leave. Today Monday June 25th 217, I found another honest looking person with a laptop and a mouse (because I only know how to use a laptop with a mouse. I don’t know how to use a laptop without a mouse) and I’m currently using their laptop to continue writing this post which I’m starting just past 3 PM Mountain Standard Time).

Journalists such as Antonio Socci and others discovered the existence of a group of Cardinals called the Saint Gallen Group who did in fact force the resignation of Pope Benedict XVI and promote the election of Pope Francis.

Bearing that in mind, I’ve often wondered whether something I’m currently writing is unbeknownst to me foretelling another certain geopolitical trend that someone very powerful wants kept quiet.

At first I thought this was just my own imagination running wild.

Brought on by the fact that a couple of months ago, the computers in the branch of the public library where I did most of my writing started getting hit en masse by viruses and hackers.

One day when I went there, there were signs put up on over 1/3 of the computers saying Not Available For Service.

I overheard one of the librarians remarking to a library patron that this was strange because none of the other branches in the Calgary Public Library system seemed to be undergoing the massive computer problems that this branch was undergoing.

So in my imagination (brought on by the occasional teasing I get from my friend Daniel and another friend Timothy who lives in South Africa that intelligence services across the world are profoundly disturbed by what I write), I thought that maybe the reason was someone powerful didn’t like what I was writing and so was targeting the computers in the Public Library branch where I do most of my writing.

But I didn’t really take it seriously.

I just used it as an imaginative fancy brought on by the pair of Robert Ludlum novels that I was reading at the time.

But that all changed last Saturday June 24th at around 4:30 PM just as I was about to post my vampire novel chapter entitled Belvedere Discovers His Enchantress.

I was in my WordPress editing function at the time.

I had just copied and pasted my vampire novel chapter from my email to my WordPress dashboard of posts.

I had just finished selecting the categories and my tags for my post and was about to copy and paste the URL for the photo I was using for the chapter when these two librarians with very sinister looking expressions on their faces walked up to me.

Said the female librarian with a Russian accent (and no I’m not making this up- she did have a Russian accent- by the time the conversation was finished- I was imagining she was probably one of Vladimir Putin’s most evil FSB agents), “We couldn’t help but notice that you’ve been sitting at this computer all afternoon.”

I didn’t know that it was a crime to sit at a public library computer all afternoon but maybe it is in this Orwellian world that’s starting to emerge in 2017.

“What time did you get here?” Russian Gestapo Girl asked me.

“2:00,” I said.

What business was it of theirs, what time I got there, I don’t know.

“We have had concerns expressed to us about the blog you’re writing on our computers,” said the middle-aged librarian with glasses and moustache who looked like the head of the most evil Black Ops operation within the American CIA.

“Blog? How do you know that I’m writing a blog? Are you monitoring what people are doing on their computers here?” I asked.

“We’re not at liberty to say,” Big Brother’s Little Brother answered.

“May I see your library card?” Russian Gestapo Girl asked me. (No doubt back in the USSR, she said to people, “Your papers please.”)

I handed her my library card whereupon she promptly pounced on it and grabbed it and said, “I’m canceling this card and blocking you from using our public library computers.”

“What? What for? For what reason?” I demanded to know.

“We have had concerns expressed to us by many about the blog you’re writing,” said the Russian FSB librarian.

“Who is expressing these concerns? And what are their specific concerns?” I asked.

“We’re not at liberty to say,” Big Brother’s Little Brother expressed the same brainless mantra over again.

“Shut down your computer,” the Gestapo bitch then directed.

“Let me finish posting this blog post first,” I said.

“No, people have expressed concerns about the blog you’re writing,” Gestapo Bitch was starting to turn that line into her personal mantra.

“And of course you’re not at liberty to say?” I said looking at Big Brother’s Little Brother who had such an intense look of stupidity on his face that one could almost take it for a strange form of beauty.

“That is correct,” he said sounding exactly like a robot talking.

“Are you going to shut this computer down?” Gestapo Bitch demanded to know.

“No!” I said looking directly at her.

Both Russian Gestapo Girl and Big Brother’s Little Brother stood there with stupefied stupid looking expressions on their faces.

Then they walked away.

No doubt off to call the cops to report me for defending freedom and liberty in Canada when of course enlightened people such as themselves knew that for the good of everyone, Canada should really be part of the Orwellian Brave New World New World Order.

I don’t know who or what didn’t like the blog I was writing.

What were their concerns?

Was I promoting terrorism?

Of course not.

I’m against terrorism whether it’s of the ISIS variety or of the neo-Nazi or Klu Klux Klan variety or of any variety.

Do I promote pornography?

Of course not.

Unless of course they consider posting photos of beautiful women (who are among the many loves of my characters Dracul Van Helsing and Renfield R. Renfield) pornography.

If that’s the case, then they’re very much like the group of women who called themselves The Anti-Sex League in George Orwell’s novel 1984.

So now I’ve finished writing this blog post.

And now I’ll have to edit it.

But the person whose laptop this is now has to leave.

So I’ll hopefully be able to edit this tomorrow.

And get it posted tomorrow.

To my readers, this may be the last blog post of mine you’ll be able to read for awhile.

Because I can no longer use the computers in the public library.

And I can’t keep borrowing laptops from people in coffee shops no matter how honest they look- because chances are I’d probably run into somebody eventually who would keep track of the passwords I’d use.

And I can’t afford to buy a new smartphone or tablet or laptop or PC of my own.

There is a program in Calgary called CLIC (Computers For Low-Income Calgarians).

What the program does is if anybody has a working smartphone or tablet or laptop or PC that they no longer use (because they’ve probably upgraded to a new one), they can then donate those to this program and CLIC will then give the smartphone or tablet or laptop or PC to a low-income Calgarian who can’t afford to buy one of their own.

I was told this by my social worker a couple of months ago.

The program has about a 6 month waiting list she said.

So I applied right after I was told.

That was 2 months ago.

So technically I have another 4 months to wait.

Of course if the waiting list at the time I applied was then even more than 6 months, I’ll have even longer to wait.

To be quite frank, I don’t know if I can wait that long.

The biggest antidote to combating my PTSD inspired depression I’ve found has been my writing.

My writing and my immediately posting it to a blog so I can judge reaction to my writing.

Judging from the number of Likes I get on my Blog posts each day and the number of new followers and new readers I get each day, I realize that my blog is making an impact.

It’s my writing and my blogging that seems to give me meaning and purpose in life.

If I don’t feel I have any meaning or purpose in my life, I don’t see how I’ll be able to successfully overcome my depression.

When my dad was dying from cancer, he made me promise on his deathbed that I would continue my writing (which I did).

“Continue your writing, Christopher,” he told me, “your writing is extremely important to the world and I really mean that. So continue writing, Christopher. Always continue writing. You may not realize how important your writing is but I do. Always continue writing.”

So that’s what I’ve done.

And in the past 7 years since he died, it’s been my writing and my blogging which has given me the greatest sense of relief from my despair and the greatest sense of meaning and purpose in life.

Now my avenues for that writing and blogging have slowly been erased away.

I was forced to abandon my PC and my laptop (with a mouse) in my Vancouver apartment when I was evicted because I couldn’t fit them into my small suitcases.

My smartphone was stolen off me while I slept on the mat in a homeless shelter this past January.

And now I’ve been blocked from using the computers in the Calgary Public Library because Person or Persons Unknown have concerns about the blog I’m writing..

What person or persons unknown?

The U.S. National Security Agency?

Britain’s MI-6?

Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau? (Because I’ve written vampire novel chapters where I have an ET gray from the planet Nibiru called Gali-Gula (who’s possessed by the spirit of the late Roman Emperor Caligula) appear to him and give him advice whenever he’s smoking marijuana?).

Is what I considered fictional in that case reality?

Or maybe it’s Hillary Clinton?

Hillary: Bill, what’s that blog you keep reading all the time?

Bill: You mean Dracul Van Helsing?

The next day:

Hillary: Bill, is the reason you keep reading that blog is because you enjoy looking at all those photos of beautiful women in alluring outfits who are among the many loves of the characters Dracul Van Helsing, Renfield R. Renfield and the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set?

Bill: Of course not. I read the blog to get Christopher’s insightful geopolitical analysis into the current world situation.

Hillary: The same as the time when I found all those Playboy magazines in your desk shortly after you were first elected Governor of Arkansas and you told me that you had just bought them to read the articles?

Bill (grinning): Exactly.

I do not know what are the reasons or who objected to my blog.

But it was someone powerful enough to get the Calgary Public Library system to ban me from using their computers.

My dad thought my writing would someday have impact on the world.

And I guess he was right.

Who would have thought writing a series of novels where I combine vampire legends and ghost stories with Greek and Norse and Egyptian mythology thrown together with current geopolitical happenings would get me banned?

But I guess it did.

And yet somehow I think my father would be pleased.

He’d say, “You’ve upset the right people, Christopher. You’ve upset the right people. And you’ve got the right people for your readers and blog followers.”

-A personal essay written by Christopher
June 25th, June 26th and June 27th
2017.

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King Arthur At The Movies

May 12, 2017 at 4:10 pm (Arts, Culture, Entertainment, Film, Literature, Movies, Mythology, Personal essays, The Supernatural) (, , , , , , , )

The movie King Arthur: Legend of the Sword opens in theatres today on what is the 80th Anniversary of the coronation of King George VI as King of Britain (which happened on May 12th 1937).

I’m sure there is no correlation between the two events- the release of a movie that I gather is a real turkey judging from reviews I’m reading at the Rotten Tomatoes film web site and the coronation of a man who was a great and heroic king (in contrast to his brother the Nazi sympathizer King Edward VIII who abdicated the throne for what he thought was a great piece of tail Mrs. Wallis Simpson).

To mark the occasion, I’m posting here two photo montage music videos I made about King Arthur at the OneTrueMedia video making site (an online video making site that sadly no longer exists) and then posted to YouTube.

The 1st King Arthur photo montage I made back on January 24th 2009:

The 2nd King Arthur photo montage music video I made (which was called Merlin, Morgana and Arthur using images from the famous TV series called Merlin) I made back on July 21st 2009:

Here are links to a few chapters I’ve written in my series of vampire novels that pertain to the Arthurian legend:

King Arthur and The Vampire Horus:

https://draculvanhelsing.wordpress.com/2011/04/20/king-arthur-and-the-vampire-horus/

Sunset Over Camelot:

https://draculvanhelsing.wordpress.com/2011/04/18/sunset-over-camelot/

Morgana Before Dawn:

http://thevampiresamurai.blogspot.ca/2010/04/morgana-before-dawn-planned-catnapping.html

Arthur’s Sword and The Best Laid Plans of Mice and Men

http://thevampiresamurai.blogspot.ca/2010/04/arthurs-sword-and-best-laid-plans-of.html

-A personal essay
written by Christopher
Friday May 12th 2017.

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Haiku About Homelessness

February 26, 2017 at 4:47 pm (Commentary, Culture, Personal essays, Poetry) (, , )

Without home no hope
People view you with contempt
that’s what really hurts

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Snow Falls Like Raindrops: A Poem

February 22, 2017 at 5:44 pm (Life, Nature, Personal essays, Poetry) (, , , )

Today a snow fall
The snow fell like raindrops in suspended animation
Not a typical snowfall
but a magical mystery show of snow flakes looking like raindrops
and hitting the ground
much like a film of raindrops falling being put in slow motion mode

Snow flake falls
slow slow
burst of bubbles in the frozen air
dancing up and down to an unseen melody
of joy and laughter

Amidst this snowfall and its silence
one hears the still voice of God
I have found a new place to live
Last week I thought I had become an outcast
Last night I slept outdoors on a park bench
in the cold and the snow and the wind
for the first time in my life
I had become homelessness
in its most feared fashion
Today a meeting with someone
and I’m moving into a new place tomorrow

How quickly life can change within 24 hours
As I told a friend in Germany yesterday via email
“I now have the feeling God wants me to spend a night
in the cold- the damp frozen cold
If it happened to baby Jesus in the stable,
why should I be spared?”

As I told my friend, perhaps after a night in the cold
things will finally change after 7 years of Hell
the cold northern Hell of Niflheim
and the burning hot coals of Hebrew Gehenna

And so snow falls like raindrops in suspended animation
doing a slow motion dance of bursting bubbles
and magic wonderland
heralding that after the darkness
will finally emerge the light

-A poem written by Christopher
Wednesday February 22nd
2017.

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Homeless and Suicidal In Calgary

February 17, 2017 at 7:50 pm (Personal essays) ()

My regular readers will notice that I haven’t updated for a couple of days.

I do not often talk about personal matters in this blog.

I mostly like to concentrate on my vampire novel chapters, my short stories and my poems.

I try to live on a housing and medical benefits income (which amounts to a little over $750 a month) since I was diagnosed by my doctor last summer as being medically unable to work.

I did move into a place of my own last October but unfortunately my landlady/roommate had an OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder) when it comes to excessive bathroom cleanliness and I didn’t keep the bathroom clean enough for her liking even though I tried my best.

I was handed an eviction notice this past December 1st which meant I had to be out on New Year’s Day this year.

Since I was unable to find a new place to move into, I had to go into a homeless shelter.

I decided to try a homeless shelter closer to the Church I attend rather than the homeless shelter I lived in from July until October last year (where I wound up after being evicted from my Vancouver apartment last July due to my inability to pay the exorbitant rents that Vancouver landlords now charge).

I entered this particular shelter at 2 PM New Year’s Day and by 9 PM, I had picked up my belongings and ran out of the shelter.and to the house of a woman who attended my Church.

I asked if she would drive me to the homeless shelter I had been in from July until October of last year.

The reason?

This shelter closer to my Church- 95% of its clientele were crackheads I could discern.

The shelter I had been in from July until October last year had maybe 2% crackheads.

This shelter promised on its signs A Safe and Sober Environment.

Although the shelter had changed somewhat since my return this past January.

Now I discovered they had a client population of about 5 to 10% crackhead.

Of course they won’t let you into the shelter if you’re stoned (I didn’t have to worry about that since I neither smoked, drank nor took drugs all my life) but for crackheads of course, the chemicals will stay in their brains long after they’ve been on their trips which makes them the irrational pharmaceutical and chemically created psychopaths that they are.

I discovered how the clientele had changed back on January 3rd when I had only been in the shelter two days and had my iPhone stolen from my left pants pocket while I slept with my pants on on my mat.

There was also a lot more aggressive behaviour among the shelter’s inhabitants as a result of the increase in crackheads at the shelter.

I tried to avoid the crackheads as best as I could.

I did observe their behaviour but at a safe distance.

Then this past Tuesday night- Valentine’s Day- of all nights this crackhead asshole attacked me on my mat claiming that I had stolen his drugs.

I told him, “I don’t do drugs, asshole” as I fought him off

We finally got up in our struggle and I punched him in the face.

He must have been more aware than I am of how the cameras operated at the shelter because he immediately started carrying on like a big sniveling crybaby, “Waaaaugh! Staff, help me! This guy hit me!”.

Because the cameras do not look directly down on the mats, they can only see what people do standing.

So of course since the only punch that showed up on the camera was the one I had thrown while we were standing, I was the one who ended being suspended instead of the crackhead asshole who started it all.

And then the really ironic thing was that while I waited in the waiting room for the staff to bring me my belongings from my locker in a bag, the crackhead asshole’s ex-girlfriend had a drug overdose (I remember when she was his girlfriend, he treated her really badly and she’d always run crying to her father who also stayed in the shelter) and so was also brought down to the shelter entrance waiting room.

When I left the shelter with my plastic bag containing my belongings to walk to the bus stop across the street, I looked back and a fire truck with a respirator unit and an ambulance were pulling up to the shelter.

The whole scene almost struck me as being a metaphor for Western society today. I was the one being forced to leave the shelter while the asshole crackhead who started the whole fracas was allowed to stay- the same asshole crackhead whose abused ex-girlfriend was being rushed to hospital on a drug overdose.

There really doesn’t appear to be any justice in the world.

I had a Hell of a nightmare trying to find a place to stay this past Tuesday night.

I finally had to rent a hotel room (the cheapest turned out to be $97 a night which really isn’t cheap in my opinion) because I didn’t want to go to any other homeless shelter which has a higher percentage of crackheads than the one I had just left.

I’d rather throw myself into the Bow River than do that.

I’ve been suffering with severe clinical depression ever since my dad died from cancer 7 years ago.

I was finally diagnosed with this condition by a doctor in Calgary this past summer.

I have been seeing a mental health counselor the past few months.

I already had an appointment yesterday to see her at 2 PM and I thought this was timely because I’ve been feeling very suicidal ever since I was thrown out of my shelter this past Tuesday night. I’d rather die than wind up in a shelter with even more crackheads.

When I got there at the clinic at 1;45 PM to see my mental health counselor (15 minutes ahead of my 2 PM appointment), I was handed this piece of paper by the receptionist, “Dear friends, I am leaving the clinic. I have found new opportunities elsewhere. Yours truly,Nikki.” She had left the clinic’s employ 3 days earlier.

So with my usual on-going series of bad luck that has been going on continuously in my life ever since my dad died of cancer 7 years ago, my mental health counselor had up and left her job just when I needed her the most.

So I checked out of my motel today.

I can’t really afford to stay there any more nights.

Sadly the people at my Church have lives and big families of their own and they don’t have the ability or means to let me stay at their places for awhile.

I don’t know where I shall spend tonight.

I have no idea.

I don’t really want to go to any other homeless shelter.

I’ve had it up to here with crackheads.

Maybe I will throw myself in the Bow River.

I don’t know.

This is not a work of fiction tonight like my other writings, my dear readers.

This is the grim God’s honest truth.

Although God seems to have walked out of my life at the moment.

And only the Devil remains.

If you’re a praying individual. please pray for me, my dear reader.

-A real-life personal essay
written by Christopher
Friday February 17th
2017.

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Theft In A Homeless Shelter

January 4, 2017 at 6:04 pm (Commentary, Crime, Life, Personal essays) (, )

Due to the misfortune of having rented an apartment from a whacko crazy nut job landlady/roomate, I got evicted from my apartment this past January 1st.

The past couple of nights I’ve been living in a homeless shelter in Calgary.

Last night, my iPhone was stolen from my pants pocket (while I slept with my pants on) by some individual who’s obviously a total scumbag.

Every short story, poem and vampire novel chapter I wrote the past 4 years was in the Notes section of that iPhone.

Now it’s gone. 😦

Needless to say, I’m feeling totally devastated at the moment.

-A personal essay
written by Christopher
Wednesday January 4th
2017.

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When Old and Dear Friends Die: A Poem

December 27, 2016 at 6:16 pm (Commentary, Obituaries, Personal essays, Poetry) (, , )

When Old and Dear Friends Die: A Poem

When old and dear friends die,
it is a feeling hard to describe
Gray seems so much grayer
And light seems so much darker

Hearing of your passing this afternoon my dear friend
has quite literally knocked the wind out of me
And what makes it harder is we never met in person
We blogged at the same blogging site
meeting back there in 2007
We talked on-line
And we chatted over the phone
But we never met in person

You were a social networking rock of stability for me after my dad died back in 2010
phoning me, emailing me and asking me how I was doing.

I never realized how much my writing had impacted you
until you asked me to be godfather to your daughter Nyssa when she was born back in 2011
You obviously picked up and sensed from my writing that I was a fellow human being to be trusted
in asking me to be your daughter’s godfather

And now poor little Nyssa will be turning 6 this coming January 1st
And starting the New Year without her beloved Daddy 😦

I never got to India to see you, my friend
You were going to show me around your beloved country
Now if I ever visit your dear land, my contact with you will be to lay a rose at your grave or urn

But I will always be there for your daughter Nyssa
I remember you said that to me once on the phone, “Christopher, promise me that you’ll always be there for my daughter Nyssa.”
And I did.
And so I shall.

Au revoir, my dear friend.
Until we meet for the first time in person in God’s paradise.

-A poem written by Christopher
Tuesday December 27th 2016
in honour of his friend Amit Dhawan
who passed away this morning
in Delhi, India.

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