The Femme Fatale Art Thief

November 6, 2022 at 11:11 pm (Art, Art History, Detective story, Film, Ghost Story, Gothic, Literature, painting, Poetry, The Supernatural) (, , , , )

The femme fatale art thief

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  • She was the femme fatale art thief
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  • That’s what I called her
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  • My name is Carson Cody Albion by the way
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  • I’m a ₱rivate Eye
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  • The year was 1952
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  • And the city was London
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  • I had been hired to guard a rare art ₱iece
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  • Said to have been ₱ainted by Dante in the 13th Century
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  • Dante was a man better known for his writing (i.e. The Inferno) rather than his ₱ainting
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  • The ₱ainting was more of a metallic scul₱ted relief in a frame rather than a ₱ainting
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  • It was called Joe Biden and Nancy ₱elosi Roasting In The Flames of Tartarus
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  • I’m not sure who these Joe Biden and Nancy ₱elosi characters were
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  • Two ₱eo₱le that Dante saw roasting away but didn’t think were im₱ortant enough to be worth a mention in his Inferno
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  • I saw the woman standing in front of the metallic scul₱ted relief
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  • I was ₱racticing my Raymond Chandler narrative short story telling skills as I looked at her
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  • She had the most magnificent tight skirted ass that I had ever seen
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  • Her buns showed u₱ magnificently under the tight contours of her dress
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  • like two ri₱e gra₱efruit ri₱e for the ₱icking and the ₱lucking
  • I knew I wouldn’t be gras₱ing at straws if I were to, like Shakes₱eare’s MacBeth, say,
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  • “Come, let me clutch thee”
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  • I could imagine them being so smooth, so creamy, so white
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  • I was beginning to sound like a science-fiction writer writing advertisements for Madison Avenue
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  • By the way the femme fatale art thief looked at me, I realised I had said those Raymond Chandler narrative short story telling skills out loud rather than silently in my mind
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  • She came over and sla₱₱ed my face with such vigour that I was knocked unconscious
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  • But I got off lucky
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  • She used her ₱H Unbalanced narrative short story telling skills to bore the ₱oor museum security guard to death
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  • He was found dead the next morning
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  • The coroner ruled the cause of death as Colossal Boredom
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  • And the metallic scul₱ture relief ₱ainting of Joe Biden and Nancy ₱elosi Roasting In Tartarus was gone
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  • A gy₱sy fortune teller told me that it would someday be found in the art collection of a young man named Barron Trum₱
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  • A young man who would have his ₱ortrait ₱ainted
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  • By the ghost of the man who ₱ainted the ₱icture of Dorian Gray
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  • -A Carson Cody Albion narrative ₱oem written by Christo₱her Sunday November 6th 2O22.

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  • Carson Cody Albion Private Eye Writes In The First Person

    August 21, 2022 at 9:39 pm (Detective story) (, , )

    So this woman was sitting in my room when I woke up this morning.

    “All your clothes are on,” I said to her.

    “And all your clothes are off,” she winked at me.

    Damn I hate it when that happens.

    “I’m glad to see you’re standing at attention while they play The Star Spangled Banner on the radio,” she smiled.

    “Well actually it was the sight of you first thing in the morning that’s made me stand at attention like this,” I answered.

    “I was hoping that would be the case,” she smoothed her skirt.

    “Do that again,” I said, “and if I was an English nobleman, you’d be able to sing those old Battle Hymn of the Republic lyrics Mine Eyes Have Seen The Glory of The Coming of The Lord.”

    “God, you certainly don’t talk like that highly forgettable writer of sasquatch murder mysteries Mister Phil Huston,” her eyes shone like a child’s on Christmas morning.

    Needless to say I was rather proud of my North Pole but answered in reply to her comment rather than her eyes, “Thank God for that. But if I ever needed to put myself to sleep rather quickly, it might come in handy to talk and write like Phil Huston.”

    “Is there anything you’d like me to do?” The woman asked.

    “Yes lie back on the bed and sing Mr. Sandman Bring Me A Dream,” I replied.

    “What ever for?” She inquired.

    “I want to see who does it better,” I explained, “Me or Neil Gaiman.”

    Thirty minutes later she was singing the Carly Simon sung theme song (from the 1977 James Bond film The Spy Who Loved Me) “Nobody Does It Better.”

    -A Carson Cody Albion
    Detective Story
    Written by Christopher
    Sunday August 21st

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    The Lounge Singer

    May 2, 2022 at 9:58 pm (Detective story, Film, History, International Espionage, International Intrigue, Short Story) (, , , , , , )

    Cantolina Aguirre the lounge singer

    It was May 1949.

    And Carson Cody Albion was sitting in a high class cocktail lounge in Los Angeles.

    The name of the lounge was The Purple Canary.

    Albion wasn’t sure whether there was such a thing as a purple canary.

    He thought most canaries were yellow.

    But then again up until 1697, most Europeans thought all swans were white.

    Then came 1697.

    And Dutch explorer Willem de Vlamingh discovered black swans in Australia.

    So maybe there are purple canaries.

    Perhaps someday one will be found on the moon.

    What made him think of the moon just now?

    His eyes and ears returned to the singer and the song.

    Cantolina Aguirre was singing the song Blue Moon.

    When the song was over, Cantolina Aguirre came and sat at Albion’s table.

    “Nice of you to sit here,” Albion smiled.

    “I’m your contact,” Cantolina explained.

    “Contact?” Albion looked puzzled.

    “Didn’t Soong Mei-ling hire you to escort weapons from the Aladdin Tea Company Warehouse to the ship Blue Tiger down at the docks?” Cantolina inquired.

    Soong Mei-ling was Madame Chiang Kai-shek the First Lady of the Republic of China.

    She was the wife of Generalissimo Chiang Kai-shek the President of China.

    The Kuomintang Chinese Nationalist government was currently in trouble and there was the possibility that China could fall to Mao Tse-tung’s Communists.

    Concerned people across the U.S. were sending arms to Chiang’s government worried that the U.S. government wasn’t doing enough.

    “She did,” Carson nodded, “but I was expecting my contact to be Chinese.”

    “I was born in Shanghai,” Cantolina answered, “My father worked at the Spanish Consulate in the city.”

    “Wow, don’t I have egg on my face,” Albion remarked after a waiter accidentally spilled Egg Foo Yung all over him.

    Cantolina gave him the passwords he was to use at both the warehouse and the loading docks for the ship Blue Tiger.

    Albion stood up to go on his mission.

    “I’ll be working here until 2 AM, ” she said as she got up to return to the stage.

    “Do you ever make love to any of your contacts?” Albion asked before leaving.

    Cantolina grabbed a napkin and wrote on it with her red lipstick.

    She then folded the napkin.

    “Here’s the answer,” she said as she handed him the folded napkin, “Don’t open it until you walk through that door again.”

    Later after Albion had completed the mission, he returned to The Purple Canary and walked through the door.

    He opened and unfolded the napkin to read her red lipstick answer to his question.


    Cantolina noticed his entrance and his unfolding of the napkin.

    She immediately began singing the song Blue Moon.

    -A Carson Cody Albion Short Story
    Written by Christopher
    Monday May 2nd 2022.

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    Carson Cody Albion and The Beauty In The Hotel Room

    May 1, 2022 at 9:50 pm (Detective story, Literature, Poetry) (, , , )

    The Beauty In Carson Cody Albion’s Hotel Room

    Carson Cody Albion Private Eye went to London town
    And discovered London bridge wasn’t falling down
    So he went back to his hotel and what he saw caused no frown
    For on his bed was a beautiful woman in a very sexy gown

    -A poem written by Christopher
    Sunday Night May 1st 2022

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    The Panther Woman and The God of Surprises

    April 22, 2022 at 11:30 pm (Detective story, Espionage, Gothic, History, Horror, Mystery, Mystery/horror, The Occult, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , )

    Claudia Simon The Panther Woman

    Carson Cody Albion, a private eye then based in New Orleans, was spending April of 1935 visiting New York City.

    He was visiting an old college acquaintance of his who had now become an inspector in the New York Police Department.

    “Inspector Hennessy,” his secretary brought into her boss’ office the private eye from New Orleans, “a Mr. Carson Cody Albion to see you.”

    “Carson, my old friend,” the Inspector rushed to greet him.

    They discussed old times and college days.

    And how the philosopher Hegel (who they had both studied in the same philosophy course they took) was a major pain in the ass.

    However Hegel’s influence on the world was profound in the decade of the 1930s.

    Hegel, as interpreted through the lens of the left wing Hegelians particularly Marx, was influencing Bolshevism and Communism.

    Hegel, as interpreted through the lens of the right wing Hegelians particularly Nietzsche, was influencing Nazism and Fascism.

    Inspector Hennessy was then discusing cases he was working on.

    One involved a wild animal walking the streets of New York City.

    A black coloured panther with golden green eyes who ripped out the throats of its victims.

    The other involved a serial killer dressed as a clown who slashed the throats of his victims.

    Beside his victims, he left a fortune cookie that always had the same message, “Be prepared to be surprised by the god of surprises.”

    Albion said he’d help Hennessy with the case.

    As Albion walked back to his hotel, he passed a tarot card reading room.

    A very beautiful young woman dressed in the beautiful coloured blouse and skirt of a gypsy woman stood outside.

    “A reading, sir,” she smiled at him.

    “Why not?” Said Albion.

    He did not believe in tarot cards or crystal balls but he had time to kill.

    Interestingly enough the reading sort of matched the case his friend Inspector Hennessy was working on.

    When the reading was over, the lovely brunette gypsy woman smiled at him and said, “Remember, sir, it takes a thief to catch a thief.”

    Curious statement, Albion thought.

    Albion was walking by a Church – Saint Raphael’s- when he noticed the priest locking up.

    “Good evening, Father,” Albion said.

    “Good evening,” said the priest, “You’re Carson Cody Albion are you not?”.

    “Why, yes,” Albion nodded, “You know me?”.

    “I have a niece who lives in New Orleans,” the priest explained, “She’s sent me newspaper clippings about your exploits. She knows I have a weakness for detective stories- Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes, G.K. Chesterton’s Father Brown and Agatha Christie’s Hercule Poirot.”

    “Excellent writers and excellent detectives all of them,” Albion acknowledged.

    “Working on a case here in New York?” The priest asked.

    Albion mentioned the panther and also the clown serial killer who called himself the God of Surprises.

    “This clown serial killer the God of Surprises is a sinister individual,” the priest crossed himself with the Sign of the Cross, “I believe he’s human but yet he’s possesed of a supernatural paranormal power that I believe is demonic in origin.”

    “What makes you think that, Father?” Albion was curious.

    “I have to go to a hospital to hear confessions but meet me here at the rectory at noon tomorrow,” the priest pointed, “It’s right next to the Church.”

    Albion agreed.

    At 2 AM Albion woke up.

    Feeling restless he decided to go for a walk.

    He walked past Saint Raphael’s Church and was surprised to see a moving van out in front.

    A moving van in the middle of the night?

    At a Church?

    The movers were moving Crosses and Crucifixes and statues of Mary and the Saints from the Church into the van.

    This is curious, Albion thought.

    He looked at the name on the van PILTDOWN AND PEKING MOVERS.

    Weird, Albion thought.

    The following morning Albion again walked in the direction of the Church.

    This time for his noon appointment with the priest rector of Saint Raphael’s at the Church rectory.

    He was surprised to see CRIME SCENE yellow tape around the Church building.

    Albion figured that possibly the middle of the night movers were in fact burglars and he Albion had neglected to stop them.

    “What’s happened here, Hennessy?” Albion asked the inspector when he saw him.

    “Well aside from the obvious theft of the Crosses and Crucifixes and statues of Mary and the Saints, the priest Father Lacroix was found dead at the altar with his throat slashed,” Hennessy stated, “along with a fortune cookie carrying the message, BE PREPARED TO BE SURPRISED BY THE GOD OF SURPRISES. Witnesses saw a clown carrying a bloodied knife flee the Church building.”

    Hennessy and Albion went to talk to the rectory’s housekeeper to see if she knew if Father Lacroix had any enemies.

    The housekeeper, an Irish woman in her mid-50s, sobbed that this clown serial killer the God of Surprises must be demonically possessed.

    That’s why the Crosses and Crucifixes and statues of Mary and the Saints were taken out so that the demonic clown serial killer The God of Surprises could enter the Church and kill Father Lacroix.

    Indeed it turned out there was no such moving company as PILTDOWN AND PEKING MOVERS.

    Albion after helping Hennessy had gone to a local public pool for a swim.

    While walking through the pool area he saw this woman.

    Albion stopped to look at her.

    “You recognize me, monsieur?” the woman spoke with a French accent.

    As a matter of fact, he had seen a sketch of her.

    In the notebook of one Barnabas Van Helsing a vampire hunter who wasn’t quite as famous as his elder brother Dr. Abraham Van Helsing.

    Back in the early 1890s the City of New Orleans had been terrorized by a wild black panther with golden green eyes who killed New Orleans citizens by ripping out their throats.

    Van Helsing had caught up with the panther who, the vampire hunter had claimed in his notebook, had shapeshifted into a beautiful woman.

    The woman, Van Helsing claimed was an immortal, who turned into a panther on certain nights.

    She was a 17th Century French noblewoman named Claudia Simon.

    Van Helsing had sketched her picture.

    Albion recognized the woman standing in front of him as being the same woman in Barnabas Van Helsing’s sketch.

    He also recalled something else.

    Something the gypsy woman had said to him yesterday.

    It takes a thief to catch a thief.

    A couple of hours later a very beautiful woman was walking through a dark neighbourhood.

    The sounds of the stilettos on her high heeled shoes clicking the pavement.

    The constant pulling up of her coat and adjusting of her skirt.

    A clown started to follow her.

    He carried a knife.

    He walked very stealthily behind her and was about to strike… when the woman suddenly turned and spun around on her heels.

    He was surprised.

    “You appear to be surprised, oh, God of Surprises,” said the woman with a most exquisite French accent.

    She turned into a panther and ripped out his throat.

    The clown shouted out several last words before he died.

    As Hennessy and Albion wrapped up the investigation, they discovered that the clown was a Jesuit priest named Father Edgar Noeticus who had studied under the French Jesuit priest paleontologist Father Pierre Teilhard de Chardin over in China.

    No one was sure when Father Noeticus had left China and when he returned to the U.S.

    However after he got his throat ripped out by the panther woman, he shouted out one final last cry, “Someday a Pope shall venerate me the God of Surprises.”

    In his right hand as he died he clutched a fortune cookie with the message BE PREPARED TO BE SURPRISED BY THE GOD OF SURPRISES.

    -A vampire novel chapter
    written by Christopher
    Friday April 22nd

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    Carson Cody Albion and The Deadliest of Spies

    April 20, 2022 at 10:04 pm (Espionage, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, International Espionage, International Intrigue, News, Science, Sorcery, Spy Tales, Technology, The Occult, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , )

    Carson Cody Albion Private Eye had been asked to trail and follow a female Russian spy- an assignment he was very much enjoying

    It was the spring of 1957.

    And Carson Cody Albion Private Eye was walking the sidewalks of Los Angeles.

    He had been hired to tail a female Russian spy.

    It was a tail he was very much enjoying.

    Suddenly Albion was accosted by a store detective who had noticed that the private eye was following the woman.

    “What are you?” The store detective got up close into Albion’s face, “Some sort of pervert?”.

    “No, I’m not a Hollywood producer,” Albion decked the man with his fists and knocked him out cold.

    He had lost track of the woman.

    A gentle breeze at that moment carried with it a whiff of the woman’s sensuous perfume.

    Albion was back on track.

    The woman entered an apartment building.

    Albion recognized the building.

    Janos Korda a Hungarian physicist who had fled his homeland after the failed 1956 uprising against Communist rule the year before lived there.

    Korda had found a job working at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory in Pasadena.

    One of the founders of the Jet Propulsion Laboratory was rocket engineer Jack Parsons.

    Jack Parsons had been back in the 1940s a disciple of English occultist Aleister Crowley.

    In early 1946 Parsons and science-fiction writer L. Ron Hubbard who was also a disciple of Crowley (Hubbard would later go on to found the Church of Scientology) worked on a series of magic rituals that they called the Babalon Working.

    The rituals invoked the spirit of the Whore of Babylon.

    Also called Babalon.

    Crowley and the two men claimed they succeeded.

    Parsons was killed in a home laboratory explosion in 1952.

    Although police felt that the 37-year-old Parsons’ death was an accident, other associates suspected it was suicide or murder.

    When Korda had arrived to work at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory, the fluent English language speaker Korda had been given a notebook of Parsons to read and analyze.

    The notes consisted of Thelemite meditation techniques (Thelema had been the name of the religion founded by Aleister Crowley).

    While meditating Korda came in contact with an entity calling itself Aiwass (the same entity that Crowley claimed to have once contacted and later sketched. The entity resembles an ET alien gray).

    Aiwass gave Korda the plans for a new type of rocket.

    Korda was so impressed with Aiwass’ plans that he wrote rocket engineer Wernher von Braun about it.

    Unfortuntately Janos Korda’s letter to von Braun was intercepted by a Communist in the U.S. Post Office (Unfortunately Wisconsin Sen. Joe McCarthy had neglected to look for Communists in the U.S. Post Office).

    The letter found its way to Soviet KGB headquarters in Moscow.

    And thus the beautiful and lovely Alexandra Murthanoccasio Popovitch was dispatched to Los Angeles to seduce Janos Korda.

    She got into his apartment.

    She got into his arms.

    And she got into his notebook (in which he had detailed Aiwass’ plans for rocketry and missiles).

    Once the notebook was in her left hand, she shot him dead with her right hand.

    Carson Cody Albion, who had stopped to buy himself a Coke from the apartment building’s Coke machine, thought that perhaps he shouldn’t have stopped to buy himself a Coke as soon as he heard the gun shots.

    He tried to finish his bottle of Coke as quickly as he could and then ran upstairs.

    When he entered the apartment, Janos Korda was lying dead on the floor and Korda’s pet budgie was saying, “The horror. The horror.”

    “Excuse me,” Albion asked the budgie, “But are you saying “The horror. The horror.” ? Or “The whore. The whore.”? Because there is a difference you know.”

    Meanwhile the lovely and beautiful Alexandra Murthanoccasio Popovitch was already fleeing down the fire escape.

    A group of Grade 7 boys from a nearby private boys’ school were already looking straight up the fire escape at the tight skirted dress lovely female spy’s descent.

    Their Art Appreciation teacher (who was a woman) who had been escorting them on a walk to a nearby art gallery suddenly broke into a lecture on the dangers of blindness (or even jail!) if one engaged in a certain physical activity (particularly in public).

    As for the notebook, it returned safely to Moscow along with the lovely and beautiful Alexandra Murthanoccasio Popovitch.

    Aiwass’ plans for the rocket were successful.

    The USSR launched the Sputnik 1 satellite a few months later.

    As for Aiwass’ missile, that took a little longer to develop.

    Until Wednesday April 20th 2022.

    When Russian President Vladimir Putin announced the launch of a new intercontinental ballistic missile.

    As he warned the West not to keep threatening Russia’s security in the Ukraine War.

    -A vampire novel chapter
    written by Christopher
    Wednesday April 20th

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    Aphrodite, Los Angeles and The Munich Agreement

    January 30, 2022 at 10:57 pm (Detective story, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, International Intrigue, Mythology, News, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , )

    It was the evening of Thursday September 29th 1938.

    The Greek goddess Aphrodite was waiting in the apartment of Los Angeles Private Eye Carson Cody Albion.

    Aphrodite had hired Albion to find the giant sea shell from which she had been born on the island of Cyprus.

    The sea shell had been stolen from the Paphos Museum on the island of Cyprus last year.

    Rumour had it that it had been stolen on the orders of a Hollywood producer.

    Aphrodite waiting for Carson Cody Albion Private Eye

    “Did you find my birth shell?” Aphrodite asked Albion.

    “I did,” Albion took off his trench coat and fedora hat, “David O. Selznick had the shell cut up and turned into pearl earrings. So I’m afraid all the bits of your shell are now gone with the wind.”

    “But my birth shell was a cockle shell and not an oyster shell,” Aphrodite pointed out.

    “Really?” Albion blinked, “I think Selznick better have the prescription checked on his glasses.”

    The Greek goddess Aphrodite had the radio on.

    “An agreement has been signed in Munich between Germany, France, Italy and Britain handing the Sudetenland over from Czechoslovakia to Germany. British Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain called the Munich Agreement “Peace in our time.” The Czechoslovak government naturally protested the deal. Germany’s Fuhrer Adolf Hitler referred to the Czechoslovak government as a small fringe minority with unacceptable views.”

    “I imagine my pen pal in the William Shakespeare Appreciation Society won’t be so happy about this,” Albion poured both Aphrodite and himself some martinis.

    “Who’s your pen pal in the William Shakespeare Appreciation Society?” Aphrodite asked as she took the martini.

    “A backbench British Conservative MP who once served as a a cabinet minister in both Liberal and Conservative cabinets,” Albion answered, “A fellow by the name of Winston Churchill. A person who actually does his own research and doesn’t believe everything the government and the media tells him.”

    Albion squeezed the hell out of a lemon and then threw it in the garbage.

    “Holy Don Quixote,” Albion noted, “That’s one sour fruit.”

    The garbage can was below an old CN Rail poster from Canada.

    “Churchill?” Aphrodite sipped her martini.

    “His opponents call him a conspiracy theorist,” Albion noted, “for believing that the German Nazi Party wants to conquer and rule the world.”

    -A vampire novel chapter
    written by Christopher
    Sunday January 30th

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    The Mexican Cantina

    December 28, 2021 at 11:05 pm (Film, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, International Intrigue, Mythology, News, Short Story, Vampire novel) (, , , , , )

    Rosa the singer inside the Mexican cantina

    The year was 1959.

    Richard M. Nixon was preparing to succeed Dwight Eisenhower as President the next year.

    John F. Kennedy was on the phone to Marilyn Monroe asking if she’d drop by his place on New Year’s Eve and personally sing Auld Lang Syne to him.

    Jackie Kennedy was shopping for rolling pins.

    And the Greek god Zeus was in the office of Los Angeles Private Eye Carson Cody Albion asking him to locate Ganymede the cup-bearer to the Olympian gods.

    Ganymede had apparently gone missing and was rumoured to be working inside a Mexican cantina.

    Zeus wanted Albion to find him and bring him back to Olympus.

    . . .

    “I’m tired of you Olympians always whining about your wine all the time,” was Ganymede’s good-bye note.

    Zeus wept.

    He enjoyed the immortal youth bringing him wine.

    And now he was gone.

    He went to his Rolodex and found the business card for Carson Cody Albion.

    He then summoned an eagle to fly him to Los Angeles.

    The eagle was happy.

    It was tired of eating liver all the time.

    The titan Prometheus was happy as well.

    . . .

    In the Mexican cantina called Pedro’s, Rosa was singing up a storm.

    When she had finished, she went and stood next to the piano.

    Behind her stood the Greek god Ganymede disguised as a statue.

    Carson Cody Albion had received a grape rather than an olive in his martini as he watched the show.

    The grape contained a fortune cookie saying sized message that read I DON’T WANT TO GO BACK TO OLYMPUS.

    It was signed Ganymede.

    Albion wrote Zeus a note saying that Ganymede had joined a militia of anti-Castro Cubans being put together by U.S. Vice-President Richard M. Nixon and couldn’t be located.

    Cody then went to Rosa’s dressing room and knocked on her door.

    Rosa opened the door.

    Albion entered.

    Rosa closed the door.

    In the dining area Ganymede sat wearing an I LIKE IKE button and dark sunglasses and got his palm read by a blind fortune teller.

    Mistaking Ganymede for Fidel Castro, the blind fortune teller told him that he’d one day have an idiot son who would become Prime Minister of Canada.

    And inside the dressing room, Rosa personally sang Auld Lang Syne to Carson Cody Albion.

    -A Carson Cody Albion
    Private Eye Short Story
    written by Christopher
    Tuesday December 28th

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    Norse Goddess Freya, The Future King Edward VIII and Carson Cody Albion Private Eye

    December 17, 2021 at 9:27 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, News, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , )

    The Norse goddess Freya in a London hotel in 1931

    Carson Cody Albion worked as a Private Eye in New York City in the early 1930s.

    He’d later move to New Orleans and be a private eye there.

    Then he’d move to Los Angeles and be a Private Eye there.

    After breastfeeding on the breasts of the Syro-Phoenician goddess Atargatis, he became an immortal and he’s still alive today.

    This December he has now moved to Tokyo to become a Private Eye since California has fallen under Neo-Bolshevik Communist rule under its Neo-Stalinist Gov. Gavin Newsom.

    After Japan rejected VacciNazism (the ideology believed in by almost every country on Earth in this plandemic year of 2021), Albion decided that Tokyo was the place for him.

    90 years ago Albion was a private eye in New York City.

    He had been hired by the Norse god Odin to come to London in December of 1931.

    Odin with his good eye (well it would be his good eye wouldn’t it? notes the ghost of Christine Keeler who as a young model was caught up in the John Profumo spy scandal of 1961 at the height of the Cold War) had read a note written to his wife Freya in which she had been invited to a meeting in a posh London hotel room by Edward the horny old Prince of Wales (who would become the future King Edward VIII on January 20th 1936 and later abdicate the throne on December 11th 1936 in order to marry that well drilled piece of tail Mrs. Wallis Simpson).

    Odin was busy trying to help his illegitimate son Adolf (Odin had pulled a Zeus back in the late 1880s and had an affair with a married Frau) become the next Chancellor of Germany and so couldn’t spy on the meeting himself.

    Odin hired a New York City private eye for the job rather than a London private eye since a London private eye might be bumped off by Britain’s Special Branch.

    Albion hid behind the curtain of the hotel room and waited.

    The first to enter was Edward Prince of Wales.

    The Prince of Wales had recently written an American style Country and Western music song and proceeded to sing it, “Oh Lord, it’s hard to be humble when you’re perfect in every way…”

    He wondered how long it would take for that song to become a hit on America’s country music charts.

    He then went into the bathroom to get himself ready.

    The Norse goddess Freya entered the room and went and stood by the chaise lounge.

    Edward exited the bathroom wearing only his Napoleon Bonaparte image emblazoned boxer shorts.

    Albion stepped up from behind the curtain and flashed… his camera.

    “Holy shit!” The Prince of Wales exclaimed, “A Fleet Street photographer.”

    The Prince of Wales went running from the hotel room wearing only his Napoleon Bonaparte image emblazoned boxer shorts.

    “I was looking forward,” Freya sighed, “to an evening of what the Italians call amore.”

    Meanwhile Edward Prince of Wales had run into the hotel kitchen where he got hit in the eye by a big pizza pie.

    He was so shocked that he dropped his drawers and mooned everyone present.

    “Perhaps I can help,” Carson Cody Albion moved closer.

    Norse goddess Freya: Spends a moonlit evening in London with a private eye

    -A vampire novel chapter
    written by Christopher
    Friday December 17th

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    Lili Marleen At The Piano

    November 30, 2021 at 9:44 pm (Poetry) (, , , )

    Lili Marleen at the piano

    It was approaching Christmas 1947
    Thanksgiving was over
    And the turkeys had been eaten
    In those days turkeys didn’t sit
    In the Oval Office
    Like they do today.

    LA Private Eye Carson Cody Albion
    had headed north to San Francisco
    It was a slight drizzle
    As Albion wandered the streets
    He saw a cocktail lounge
    On the other side of where he stood
    The Blue Pacific
    It looked inviting

    He crossed the street
    And looked at the sign
    Outside the cafe
    It said
    Lili Marleen singing here tonight.

    Lili Marleen,
    Albion lit a cigarette
    And then blew smoke rings
    And thought
    Lili Marleen had been one of his favourite songs
    Listening to on the radio
    As America fought Hitler and Tojo
    During the War Years of WWII.

    It had originally been a First World War song
    But brought back in this war
    As Woodrow Wilson was shown to be wrong
    For stating that the War of 1914-1918
    Was the War To End All Wars

    It was Vera Lynn
    The woman called Yorkshire’s Rose
    Who used to sing it

    “Underneath the lantern
    by the barrack gate
    Darling I remember
    The way you used to wait
    ‘Twas there that you whispered tenderly
    That you loved me
    You’d always be
    My Lili of the lamplight
    My own Lili Marlene…”

    Carson Cody Albion walked into the bar
    And there noticed a woman who was sitting atop the piano
    Who presumably was Lili Marleen

    “Hello, Mr. Albion,”
    Lili Marleen smiled at him,
    “I’m glad of all the cocktail lounges
    in all the world
    you chose to walk into this one”.

    Albion smiled
    He liked her welcoming demeanor
    And her Humphrey Bogart Casablanca like reference
    But most of all her welcoming demeanor

    They danced together
    Underneath the crystal globe on the ceiling
    As the orchestra played
    On this night in The Blue Pacific Lounge
    She was his own Lili Marleen.

    -A Carson Cody Albion poem
    written by Christopher
    Tuesday November 30th

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