Just Another Day In Paradise

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Carson Cody Albion Encounters Greek Goddess Psyche In Shanghai

February 12, 2021 at 11:16 pm (Detective story, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, International Intrigue, Mythology, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , )


The Greek goddess Psyche in Shanghai

The year was 1947.

And Los Angeles Private Eye Carson Cody Albion was pursuing an arms smuggler to Shanghai.

Albion had been hired by Howard Hughes of all people.

Howard Hughes, one evening after drinking far too much, had taken to his room what one Hughes accomplice called “the ugliest looking woman that he had ever seen”.

The “ugliest looking woman” turned out to be FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover in drag.

The equally inebriated Mr./Ms. Hoover told Hughes that there was a Hollywood film mogul that was strongly suspected of Communist sympathies.

This film mogul had paid for arms to be shipped to Mao Tse-tung’s Communist forces in China.

And an arms dealer would soon be sailing to Shanghai China from the Port of Los Angeles carrying arms to be delivered to a Mao Tse-tung associate in Shanghai.

Hughes did not trust the FBI to capture the arms dealer and his arms.

He felt leery of an agency headed by a man who dressed in drag.

So he hired Carson Cody Albion to sail aboard the ship S.S. Call of The Orient and to be on the lookout for any suspicious people who might be arms dealers.

Albion recognized a Greek importer of Persian rugs on the ship Alexander Darius and wondered why he wasn’t on the U.S. East Coast sailing a ship to Greece or Iran.

Albion suspected that Darius was the arms dealer.

Upon arrival in Shanghai, he noticed Darius had large amounts of crates delivered to a warehouse in the city.

Albion entered the warehouse and opened one of the crates.

It was full of various guns.

He alerted Shanghai Police Authorities and the warehouse was raided and the arms were seized by forces loyal to the Nationalist Kuomintang Government of China under President Chiang Kai-shek.

That night Alexander Darius visited Albion’s hotel room and labelled his room full of bullets.

It was fortunate for Albion that he wasn’t in his hotel room that night.

However the noise of the bullets disturbed the occupants of the next room to Albion’s which were a powerful Shanghai courtesan and her client.

The noise of the bullets caused the courtesan’s client to ejaculate prematurely leaving an enormous stain on the courtesan’s expensive silk sheets.

Angered the courtesan left her room and carrying her own gun encountered Alexander Darius who now stood holding an empty gun after spraying bullets around Albion’s room.

She shot Alexander Darius dead.

He wouldn’t be importing any more Persian rugs to America or exporting any more U.S. arms to China.

Meanwhile Albion had gone to a bar called The Shanghai Scorpion.

While there, he happened to glance in the direction of the lounge’s statue of Kwan Yin the Buddhist goddess of mercy and noticed a woman standing in front of the statue.

Albion recognized the woman from his Encyclopedia of Greek Mythology.

She was the Greek goddess Psyche wife of Eros/Cupid the Greco-Roman god of love (who was the son of Aphrodite/Venus).

“Aren’t you the Greek goddess Psyche?” Albion approached her with his drink in hand.

“I am,” Psyche answered.

“What are you doing here in Shanghai?” Albion asked, “So far from Greece?”.

“It’s getting close to Valentine’s Day and I’m sick of my hubby Cupid going around shooting arrows into people’s hearts,” Psyche sighed, “So I came to Shanghai to escape all his Valentine’s Day madness.”

“Can I buy you a drink?” Albion asked.

“Why not?” Psyche agreed.

After The Shanghai Scorpion Lounge closed, Albion and Psyche went back to Psyche’s hotel room.

Thus saving Albion’s life.

Of course Albion had become immortal a few years ago so the bullets of Alexander Darius might not have had an effect.

But they were silver bullets.

So then again they might have.

Still Albion got to watch the Shanghai sunrise with the Greek goddess Psyche.

The same could not be said for Alexander Darius.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday February 12th
2021.

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Princess Arabella/Goddess Asherah Reclaims The Matchbook

February 6, 2021 at 11:59 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, Mythology, News, Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , )

Princess Arabella/Goddess Asherah reclaims the Qadshu Bazaar Nightclub matchbook whose written inscriptions saved Yaldabaoth’s life

Yaldabaoth the Irish leprechaun was tired of gin having spent Thursday night imbibing 1001 bottles of Hendrick’s gin to bring him back from the dead.

He had spent all of yesterday drinking kegs upon kegs of Irish Guinness Stout to wash down the gin.

At the suggestion of British MP Renfield R. Renfield, Yaldabaoth then relieved the contents of his kidneys at the front door of 10 Downing Street London the residence of Britain’s bozo Prime Minister Boris Johnson and recently initiated zombie nosferatu.

Today at the suggestion of the ghost of Orson Welles, he spent the day drinking bottles upon bottles of red wine that Welles had recommended.

He had also spent the day looking at old photo albums of black and white photos taken by Welles in the 1940s and 1950s when he was still alive.

Yaldabaoth fell asleep.

When he awoke, his mind was still in a black and white photographic haze.

That was when he noticed a beautiful woman holding the vintage matchbook from the Qadshu Bazaar Nightclub in Cairo whose inside written contents revealed how to resurrect leprechauns from the dead.

“Who are you?” Yaldabaoth asked as he bit into his shepherd’s pie.

“I am the goddess Asherah,” the woman answered, “although I’ve operated under the stage name Princess Arabella world famous belly dancer for the past 75 years.”

“I recall seeing you in Cairo in 1949,” Yaldabaoth hiccoughed.

“Yes, you had caused a scene in the lounge by dying after eating an order of the Club’s world famous Alexandrian mollusks,” Asherah/Arabellah recalled.

“I remember that,” Yaldbaoth scratched his chin, “I had thought those mollusks were a bit undercooked. I had thought of sending them back to the kitchen but I didn’t really feel like causing a scene being the shy introverted fellow that I am.”

On the nearby television, video footage was being shown of Yaldabaoth relieving himself at the front door of 10 Downing Street as headlines below said that Scotland Yard was asking the British public to be on the lookout for this leprechaun and to approach with caution as his kidneys were thought to be armed and dangerous.

“I see you’re holding the vintage Qadshu Bazaar Nightclub matchbook in one hand,” Yaldabaoth observed.

“And an unlit cigarette in the other,” Asherah/Arabella replied as she opened the matchbook, took out a match and lit a cigarette, “These matches still work after 72 years.”

The princess/belly dancer/goddess smiled and blew smoke rings.

“The written inscriptions inside brought me back from the dead,” Yaldabaoth noted, “A mixture of juniper, cucumber, and damask rose. Which also just happen to be the ingredients that make up Hendrick’s Gin.”

“I am going to return this matchbook to its original owner,” Asherah/Arabella stated, “An old acquaintance of mine the Los Angeles Private Eye Carson Cody Albion. He had accidentally dropped this matchbook in his hotel lobby’s fountain where it was swallowed by a goldfish.”

“Is he still alive after all these years?” Yaldabaoth hiccoughed again.

“Yes,” Asherah smiled, “He’s immortal.”

“Well Set Enterprises’ Dr. Marmalade Montague is going to be pissed if you take that matchbook,” Yaldabaoth finished the last of his shepherd’s pie, “He paid good money for it.”

“I’m leaving here some original gold minted coins bearing Alexander the Great’s image and inscription,” Asherah noted, “That should be more than enough to cover the cost of this vintage matchbook.”

“Where did you get those?” Yaldabaoth was curious.

“From Alexander himself,” Asherah smiled and then vanished into the night.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday February 6th
2021.

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Carson Cody Albion Meets Princess Arabella

January 4, 2021 at 11:52 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, Mythology, News, Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , )


The world famous belly dancer Princess Arabella in Cairo Egypt in 1949

Los Angeles Private Eye Carson Cody Albion was spending his holidays in Egypt.

After seeing the pyramids and sailing along the Nile, Albion returned to Cairo.

In his hotel lobby, a thorougly inebriated British businessman told Albion he should go to the Qadshu Bazaar Nightclub and see the belly dancer Princess Arabella.

“Is she a real princess?” Albion asked as he lit himself a cigarette.

“She has no royal blood in her,” the businessman explained, “but she definitely is a princess of dance.”

The businessman then fell face forward into the lobby fountain where he was swallowed by a giant goldfish.

“That’s the seventh time this week that’s happened to one of our hotel guests,” the hotel manager pulled his hair out.

Albion walked down to the Qadshu Bazaar Nightclub to see Princess Arabella as the dancer was called.

He very much enjoyed her show.

Afterwards he walked backstage to her dressing room:

“Did you enjoy the show, Mr. Albion?” She asked him as she smiled.

“You’ve heard of me?” Albion was surprised.

“Carson Cody Albion,” the Princess enunciated each one of his names very carefully, “The Egyptian goddess Isis spoke of you as did the Syro-Phoenician goddess Atargatis and Semiramis the Queen of Babylon”.

“You seem to get around in divine and semi-divine circles,” Albion lit a cigarette and adjusted his private eye fedora hat atop his head.

“I’m not really a princess,” she smiled.

“So I was told by a thoroughly inebriated pinnacle of British commerce and trade prior to his being swallowed by a goldfish,” Albion blew smoke rings.

“I’m a goddess,” she lay back on her chair.

“I would agree with that epithet,” Albion gazed down appreciately at her.

“The goddess Asherah,” she laughed.

“I’ll have to look up that name in my mythology encyclopedia when I get back to LA,” Albion wrote down her name on his matchbook that had the logo and the name for Qadshu Bazaar Nightclub.

“Why don’t you look me up here while you have the chance?” She walked over to her dressing room couch and lay back on it.

“I like your quick action style of thinking,” Albion took off his fedora and raincoat.

“Well let’s hope you’re a quick action man who takes it nice and slow when it comes to the most important part,” she licked her lips.

“Your Divine Essence,” one of the nightclub waiters entered her dressing room, “one of our guests Yaldabaoth the Irish leprechaun seems to have choked to death while eating our world famous Alexandrian mollusks. What are we to do?”.

“Alexandrian mollusks are one of a few things that’s positively fatal to normally immortal leprechauns,” Asherah/Arabella, who had read the Irish High King Brian Boru’s Medieval Treatise On Leprechaun Ailments, remarked.

“Is there anything we can do to resurrect him and bring him back from the dead?” The waiter asked, “Having an Irish leprechaun die on the premises will bring bad publicity and be bad for business. The assistant manager has already impaled himself in shame on the spear of the statue of Vlad the Impaler that the bazaar sculptor is working on in his bazaar workshop tent.”

“Giving him a mixture of juniper, cucumber and damask rose is guaranteed to bring a leprechaun back from the dead,” Asherah/Arabella smiled, “or so Asclepius told me just before the Greek god Zeus killed him with a thunderbolt.”

Albion wrote down that remedy for resurrection of leprechauns in his souvenir Qadshu Bazaar Nightclub matchbook just on the off chance it might be needed someday.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday January 4th
2021.

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South Seas Christmas

December 5, 2020 at 11:32 pm (Poetry) (, , , , , , )

It was December 1946
And the war in the Pacific
had been over for a year
So Carson Cody Albion
Private Eye
Who lived and worked in
Los Angeles
But usually spent his Decembers
In winter wonderlands
To recapture the Christmas feelings
of his childhood
Had this year
decided to spend his December
in the South Pacific

As he had always dreamed of someday
visiting the South Seas
And so why not spend a Christmas
in the South Seas?
And so he had taken a ship
And landed here on a beautiful
South Seas island

And so here he was
In the South Pacific
In December
On a South Seas island
Paradise

It was a moonlit night
He was on the beach
Under the shade of a palm tree
Since there was no sun
There was no need for him to be
In the shade of a palm tree
But no matter

Within his view
Was a nearby island
That was a dormant volcano
At least he hoped
It was a dormant volcano
Otherwise his South Seas
Christmas holiday
Might turn out to be
An even bigger blast
Than he had
originally expected

From his viewpoint and perspective
In the nightsky
To the left of the dormant island volcano
Were clouds that appeared to be reindeer
Pulling Santa and his sleigh
Full of presents

It was a bit early for Santa to be flying
Another 20 days
Until the midnight hour of Christmas Eve
But maybe he was getting an early start

Albion sipped his coconut milk
Straight from a coconut
And said,
Merry Christmas to all
And to all
A good night.

-A Carson Cody Albion poem
written by Christopher
Saturday December 5th
2020.

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A Date With Destiny

November 28, 2020 at 11:28 pm (Detective story, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, International Intrigue, News, Poetry, Vampire novel) (, , , , , )

It was approaching Christmas 1940
Less than a month away
And Carson Cody Albion
Private Eye
And resident of
Los Angeles, California
decided to spend
Christmas
Like the Christmas of his childhood
Surrounded by crisp white snow on the ground
And glistening frost on the trees

As such he decided to spend Christmas
In the blue Canadian Rockies
On the banks of Lake Louise
Well it wasn’t exactly Lake Louise
But it was a beautiful townhouse chalet
In the beautiful mountain town of Banff
Not far from Lake Louise

He looked up at the clock
And watched the ticking of it
His mind seemed to be transported
forward in time
How far forward he did not know
But he was traveling with a father and a son
In a car
But a car far different from any he had seen

They were traveling across the high plains
of Washington State
Past Electric City
where the father remarked
Not quite the metropolis people hoped it would become
When it was built not far
From the Grand Coulee Dam
And the hydroelectric generating facility there
Past Lake Roosevelt
The lake created by the dam

What was this Electric City?
What was this Grand Coulee Dam?
Carson Cody Albion wondered.
A Lake Roosevelt?
In Washington state?

The father and son drove along the road
They had left what seemed to be desert country
And were now traveling through farmland
On a distant hill they could see what appeared
to be an abandoned one room schoolhouse
On top of the hill

On the side of the schoolhouse
Was faded ancient lettering
That read “Class of ’41”
I suppose, the son remarked,
That school was closed
shortly after the last class there
The Class of ’41 had graduated.
Little did that class of ’41
know the struggles they were about to face
And how the world they knew
Would change forever.

Albion thought to himself
Surely there were no one room schoolhouses
In Washington state (then a territory)
In 1841.
The class of ’41 they were talking about
Must surely be the class that graduated
In June 1941
Next year Albion reflected.

Albion’s mind returned to the present
His present
The last days of November 1940
He turned on the radio

The radio was delivering news bulletins
From the date May 10th 1940
Germany had just invaded
Belgium, France, Luxembourg
and the Netherlands
Neville “Peace in our time” Chamberlain
has just resigned as British Prime Minister
And Winston Churchill has just been summoned
to Buckingham Palace
There in the presence of King George VI
to be sworn in as Prime Minister
and to preside over a wartime UK
coalition government

After being sworn in,
Churchill later talks
to a BBC radio reporter,
“I feel all my life
I have been walking with destiny
And that all my life has
been but a trial and preparation
for this hour…”

The radio seemed to move forward
In time to a month later
June 18th 1940
When Churchill was giving a speech
In Parliament
Giving a summation of the impending Battle of Britain
“This was their finest hour…”

Albion then looked over towards the chair
By the window
And noticed a beautiful woman sitting there
Dressed in the most beautiful dress
And the finest shoulder length
Black leather gloves

Albion had no idea
How the woman got there
He had never even seen her enter the room
And believe me, Albion thought to himself,
She’s definitely one woman you would notice
enter a room.

“Who are you?” He asked her.

The woman smiled and answered, “I am Destiny”

Albion walked over to her
And embraced Destiny.

-A Carson Cody Albion
narrative poem
written by Christopher
Saturday November 28th
2020.

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Carson Cody Albion En Route To The Los Angeles Civic Grand Opera

October 7, 2020 at 11:00 pm (Arts, Entertainment, Film, Short Story) (, , , , , )

The year was 1948.

And Los Angeles Private Eye Carson Cody Albion had earned himself two tickets to the Los Angeles Civic Grand Opera.

The newly formed company would be mounting its first production – a performance of Verdi’s Rigoletto in a church hall in Beverly Hills.

The two tickets Albion had received were payment for a case in which Albion had tracked down a valuable stolen piece of furniture made by Hollywood furniture maker Francesco Pace.

Pace was the man who started the company and was its first director.

Albion accepted the tickets because he realized Pace was putting all his money into getting the opera company up and running.

It was fortunate for Pace that Albion was an opera lover.

Albion asked an up-and-coming young Hollywood actress Eva Roman if she would be his date for the evening.

Eva agreed.

They went for drinks before the opera at The Tropical Nights Lounge in Beverley Hills .

Actor Orson Welles came strolling through the door and strolled up to the couple.

“Carson, Eva,” Welles asked, “How are you doing?”.

“We’re off to see Verdi’s Rigoletto being performed by the new Los Angeles Civic Grand Opera Company,” Eva answered.

“Well,” Welles smiled, “Do beware of licentious Dukes of Mantua and hunch-backed court jesters when you’re attending the performance.”

“Will do,” Albion sipped his bourbon, “How about court jester’s daughters named Gilda?”.

Welles winced.

“I’m sorry, Orson,” Albion apologized, “I forgot Rita’s most popular performance was as Gilda.”

The Rita to whom Albion was referring was Rita Hayworth who was Orson’s ex-wife whom Welles had recently divorced.

Rita Hayworth had played Gilda in the 1946 film titled Gilda.

Gilda was also the name of the court jester’s daughter who gave up her life to save the Duke of Mantua (whom she loved) when she protected him from the assassin that her father Rigoletto had hired to kill him.

“It’s all right, Carson,” Welles took his usual glass of red wine from the Tropical Nights bartender, “I was an ass for spending more time in my thoughts and ideas for new movies than I was in giving my wife the attention she deserved. It was as my barber once said to me, genius can have its draw backs.”

Welles took his glass of wine and went and sat in a booth by himself.

“You know,” the bartender wiped the bar, “There but for the grace of God goes God.”

Albion did not smile or laugh.

It was a remark often said in Hollywood about Welles.

“The path of genius can be lonely at times,” Eva remarked.

“It can, indeed,” Albion looked over at Welles.

Albion looked at his watch as Eva put her stole over her shoulders.

The pair headed out to the performance of Rigoletto.

Welles continued to sit in the booth alone with his thoughts.

The bartender made a Shanghai Sling for a customer.

Welles watching could not help notice the irony of the drink being made.

“The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,” Welles thought.

He finished his wine, left his money on the table and left.

He walked past a movie theatre showing a poster of the film he and his ex-wife Rita had made together before their divorce The Lady From Shanghai.

The theatre ticket cashier looked at Welles as he walked by.

She thought to herself what others had thought, “There but for the grace of God goes God.”

-A short story written by Christopher
Wednesday October 7th 2020.

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The Beautiful Annabel Lee

August 14, 2020 at 11:08 pm (Detective story, Geopolitics and International Relations, Gothic, International Intrigue, Literature, News, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , )


The beautiful Annabel Lee walked up the stairs of the old mansion

Carson Cody Albion the Los Angeles Private Eye was working on an unusual case.

He had recently been hired by a Dr. Lionel Jarrett who was a Professor of Classics at the University of Saskatchewan in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, Canada to check out an old allegedly haunted mansion in San Francisco.

Dr. Jarrett, from Albion’s understanding of the man, often engaged in unusual research.

Jarrett had recently tracked down an oil painting of the Greek mythological tragic figure Medusa that had been painted by writer Oscar Wilde.

Albion had received an email from Dr. Jarrett last night.

The collector of rare and unusual antiquities had just purchased the Wilde painting of Medusa from an art gallery in London, England called The Dashwood Forrest Art Gallery.

In addition to tracking down Wilde’s paintings of mythological themes, Dr. Jarrett was also interested in the writings and life of writer Edgar Allan Poe.

Poe apparently knew a woman named Annabel Lee in Baltimore in 1849, Dr. Jarrett discovered from examining a collection of letters from a family called Lee.

Annabel found the writer somewhat creepy and therefore left Baltimore for California.

Annabel told a friend to tell Poe that she (Annabel) had died so he wouldn’t follow her to California.

Poe apparently didn’t take the news of Annabel Lee’s death very well.

Although he did write a good poem from it.

Even creepily imagining that they had known one another since youth.

Annabel Lee went to San Francisco where she apparently bought herself a beautiful mansion.

A few years later she died in an unusual thunder storm when she was struck by lightning.

People to this day, apparently, still report seeing her ghost walking up the stairs of her San Francisco mansion.

Dr. Jarrett had asked Albion to visit the mansion to see if he could get a photo of her ghost.

Albion had gone to the mansion with an old black and white camera.

At the stroke of midnight, she appeared walking up the elegant stairwell of the old mansion.

. . .

“You know what’s crazy, man?” Joe Biden in his basement was addressing his pet pot smoking desert cactus plant Sweet Dementia, “I had a dream last night where the ghost of Edgar Allan Poe appeared to me and put a ghostly spectral millstone around my neck. Why would he put a millstone around my neck?”.

Sweet Dementia said nothing but continued to exhale marijuana smoke.

. . .

As Carson Cody Albion was taking a photo of the beautiful Annabel Lee’s ghost, British MP Renfield R. Renfield was in London reading a dossier that the Set Enterprises Intelligence Unit had put together on Joe Biden’s Vice-Presidential running mate Kamala Harris.

Apparently when Ms. Harris was San Francisco District Attorney from 2004 to 2011, she refused to prosecute cases of priests’ sexual abuse within the Archdiocese of San Francisco.

Not one single case did she prosecute.

She was the only District Attorney among all the District Attorneys in the top 50 metropolitan areas across the U.S. not to lay any charges against Catholic clergy for valid accusations of sexual abuse.

If you looked at the top 50 metropolitan areas in the U.S during that time period of 2004 to 2011, 49 of those prosecuted at least one case, the sole exception being Kamala Harris in San Francisco.

Who prosecuted not a single case.

After first being elected District Attorney, Ms. Harris terminated her predecessor’s plans to publicly release “clergy abuse files” naming names of priests accused of sexual abuse.

Her predecessor Terence Hallinan talked about the fact that he was going to pursue prosecutions. He was going to release records to the public as had been done in various other jurisdictions across the country.

Unfortunately for Mr. Hallinan and the numerous victims of priestly sexual abuse in the San Francisco Archdiocese, Hallinan lost the 2003 election to Kamala Harris.

When Kamala Harris came in, she deep-sixed those documents and put them under seal so they could never be released publicly.

Why would Kamala Harris do this?, Renfield wondered as he turned the page.

The next page had the answer.

The law firms and lawyers who represented the Archdiocese of San Francisco gave large contributions to Harris’ political campaign.

Some of them had never given contributions to a District Attorney electoral race before but they loaded up her campaign coffers.

Money talks like the old saying goes.

Renfield read further.

. . .

Kamala Harris screamed when she woke up in her hotel room.

For standing there was the ghost of Edgar Allan Poe holding a ghostly spectral millstone.

Poe’s ghost put the spectral ghostly millstone around her neck.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday August 14th
2020.

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The Vicar of Morwenstow

July 8, 2020 at 10:51 pm (Detective story, Folklore, History, Poetry, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , )

Carson Cody Albion Private Eye
was walking through the Morwenstow parish district
of Cornwall in England
He had been hired by a wealthy American to track down traces of Arthurian lore

And that mission had brought him to this wild and desolate
but beautiful part of this “sceptered isle”
Here the Church of Saint Morwenna stood
A church built in the Norman period
to honour Saint Morwenna
a Welsh princess and Saint
who lived in the district

The most famous Vicar of Morwenstow
was Rev. Robert Stephen Hawker
The man who introduced the Harvest Festival to the Church of England
A commemoration that soon spread to all parts of the worldwide Anglican communion
Rev. Hawker was also the author of The Song of The Western Men
which is the unofficial anthem of the Duchy of Cornwall
with its stirring lines
“And shall Trelawny die?/ Here’s twenty thousand Cornish men/ Will know the reason why!/”

Rev. Hawker was a noted eccentric among his 19th Century rural Cornwall congregants
Known for wearing colourful bright colours
And the only traditional clerical black things he wore
were his socks
Rev. Hawker also built himself a small hut known as Hawker’s Hut
on the cliffs overlooking the Atlantic Ocean

Here it was said that he was visited by Saint Morwenna who spoke to him
Albion thought to himself that these visits would certainly be condemned by most Protestants as necromancy and spiritism
That she who claimed to be Saint Morwenna was actually a demon in disguise would be their argument

But such was not the view behind the term Communion of Saints an expression recited in both the Apostle’s and Nicene Creeds
For the Catholic Church, the Eastern Orthodox and Anglo-Catholic Anglicans and Episcopalians believe that with Christ’s Death and Resurrection,
the veil between the worlds of the living and the dead
had been radically thinned
Whereas prior to Christ’s Death and Resurrection, there had indeed
been the spiritual equivalent of a brick wall between the living and the dead
Therefore condemnations of necromancy as in Deuteronomy Chapter 18
and Samuel’s spirit’s rebuke to King Saul
when Samuel himself was actually brought forth
from the realm of Sheol
much to the surprise of the Witch of Endor
were perfectly justified

To deliberately seek out the spirits of the dead
and try to consult them
was still necromancy and spiritism
but if God allowed the spirits of the departed
in paradise and Heaven
to visit mortals on Earth
nothing unholy is taking place
provided it’s done on God’s terms
and not through some occultic invocation
on the part of some mortal would-be recipient

The ironic thing is because most Protestants
particularly those of a Calvinistic disposition
did not have the consolation of the Communion of Saints
as noted in the Apostle’s and Nicene Creeds
some Protestants would actually go to spiritist
mediums and seances to find out if their loved ones are all right
Thereby breaking the Deuteronomy 18 prohibition against necromancy

It was at a seance at his Irish family castle in 1830
that John Nelson Darby the future founder of the Plymouth Brethren
was visited by a “ghost” who told him that Christian believers
would be raptured before the Great Tribulation
and they would escape many of the plagues, natural calamities and persecutions prophesied in the Book of Revelation

John Nelson Darby’s “seance ghostly” revelation of a pre-Tribulation rapture
would be made popular in a book published by Hal Lindsay 50 years ago in 1970
although it is doubtful that Lindsay was aware of the occultic necromantic origins of Darby’s pre-Trib rapture theory
Although whether Scofield the translator and author of the Scofield Reference Bible was unaware is another matter

Christ asked His Apostles the question that when He returned, would He find Faith on the Earth?
The answer being that He would probably not.
I guess if one is expecting to be raptured before all Hell breaks loose on the Earth (like Darby’s ghostly seance visitor promised Darby)
and it doesn’t happen like the (unholy) ghost of Darby’s seance promised
then one would lose faith in Christ (who never actually promised a pre-Tribulation rapure).

As for Saint Morwenna herself,
she was the daughter of a Welsh king Brychan Brycheiniog
She had crossed over to Cornwall
and made her home in a little hermitage at Hennacliff (the Raven’s Crag)
It stands near the top of a high cliff overlooking the Atlantic
where the sea is constantly stormy
and when it is not stormy, the coast of her native Wales can be seen.

Her father King Brychan knew the real historical King Arthur
Whether Saint Morwenna told Rev. Hawker about the real historical Arthur or not
Albion could only speculate
For Hawker did begin a poem about Arthur in 1864
called The Quest of The Sangraal
a poem he never finished

Albion went to a teashop near Morwenstow to meet his girlfriend
There to begin their own quest for the Sangraal

-A poem and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday July 8th
The Feast Day of Saint Morwenna
2020.

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A Banyan Tree Grows On The Moon

March 29, 2020 at 11:10 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, love, Mythology, News, Poetry, Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , )

A Banyan Tree Grows On The Moon

Walking the streets of Honolulu in 1946
Was Los Angeles private eye Carson Cody Albion 
He was on vacation 
After having solved the mysterious case of the Blue Velvet Dandelion
back in LA 

He walked through some of the crafts shops in the city 
He noticed one belonging to a man who made ships in a bottle
Carson entered the store and looked around
He noticed one ship in a bottle that attracted his attention

“What ship is this?” Albion asked the craftsman
“The Santa Maria,” the craftsman replied 
“The Santa Maria?” Carson looked at the ship in the bottle, “That was Christopher Columbus’ flagship in 1492 on his journey to the New World wasn’t it?”
“That’s right,” the craftsman nodded.
“I’ll take it,” Albion paid the craftsman 

He walked out of the store and on to the avenue
An elderly Hawaiian woman was at a stand selling coconuts 
The private eye looked at the coconuts but wasn’t hungry at the moment 
So he didn’t buy.

“A Banyan tree grows on the moon,” the coconut woman shouted after him.
“What?” Albion walked back to her.
“A Banyan tree grows on the moon,” she repeated.
“Oh, okay,” Albion figured that the woman had been adding too much rum to her coconut milk 
and decided to continue walking 

“What are you planning to do with that ship in a bottle that’s in your shopping bag?” The woman asked him.
Albion wondered how she knew there was a ship in a bottle in his shopping bag
However he answered, “I don’t know”.

“Here’s a small piece of Kapa cloth,” the woman handed him just that,
“Take this pen and write on it what I have told you, “A Banyan tree grows on the moon”. Then put the Kapa cloth with the message in the bottle alongside the ship and throw it in the ocean where the waves will carry it where it may.”

It was a strange request but Albion felt compelled to comply
That night as the Hawaiian moon shone bright on the shore and sands, he threw the bottle with the ship, Kapa cloth and message into the ocean.

It was a late March night in 2020
The streets of London were deserted because of the countrywide lockdown over the Coronavirus 
but Dracul Van Helsing had a paper signed by Boris Johnson
granting him permission to walk the streets
To rid the city of any evil nocturnal creatures 

As Dracul walked along the banks of the Thames
He noticed a small bottle floating close to the shore
The vampire hunter picked it up
It appeared to be very old 
And it almost had the appearance of having travelled all over the world 
How did it wind up here on the Thames? he wondered.

He looked inside the bottle 
He recognized the ship as being the Santa Maria
He pulled out the small piece of Kapa cloth and noticed the message on it

“A Banyan tree grows on the moon,” Dracul read aloud.

He went back to his London apartment 
Carrying the ship in the bottle and its message with him
He went inside the room he used as an office 
And saw this vision

“Who are you?” Dracul asked.

“I am Mahina the Hawaiian and Polynesian goddess of the moon”

The woman answered.

-A narrative poem 
and vampire novel chapter 
written by Christopher
Sunday March 29th
2020.

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