Captain Kerry Donegal and The Ghost of Orson Welles

August 2, 2019 at 10:56 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, International Intrigue, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , )

Captain Kerry Donegal and The Ghost of Orson Welles

The ghost of Orson Welles was currently down at a cove on the coast of Cornwall.

He had recently been hired by Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell the executive CEO of London’s Aulos Music and Recording Ltd. to direct a music video that Campbell was planning to enter in a Gilbert and Sullivan Music Video Contest sponsored by the BBC.

Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell thought that he would have a greater chance of winning the contest if he got the director of Citizen Kane to direct a video for him.

Welles had never directed a music video during his earthly life so he agreed.

He had been told that Dracul Van Helsing had once taken a scene out of The Lady From Shanghai (in which Welles had appeared with Rita Hayworth) and added the lyrics of a song by Blackmore’s Night as background soundtrack to the scene because Dracul noticed the lyrics of the song seemed to fit in exactly with this particular scene of the movie.

Dracul wanted to show the world that Welles was a cinematographic genius whose visual imagery was so breathtakingly brilliant, he could even produce a masterpiece music video for the early 21st Century from a movie scene shot in the late 1940s.

However Dracul’s intent was lost on most of the imbeciles who watch YouTube videos (those who are in this decade small penis male SJWs posting idiotic comments on social networking sites such as Twitter).

Some clueless individual wrote, “Why would you do this to such a great scene?”.

Someone complained to the higher ups at YouTube about the video 9 years ago and it was removed.

After discussion with Van Helsing, Welles thanked the vampire hunter for believing that he Welles was more than capable of directing a brilliant music video.

Welles had lit a spectral cigar and ordered a glass of spectral red wine in a London pub recently and wondered what Gilbert and Sullivan song he should do a music video for?

It was then that the ghost of the 18th Century Irish pirate captain of the Caribbean Captain Kerry Donegal walked through the door.

As soon as Welles saw him, Welles resolved to do the song Pirate King from the Gilbert and Sullivan operetta The Pirates of Penzance.

And lucky for Welles, the ghost of Captain Kerry Donegal happened to have a very nice singing voice.

Donegal’s ghost agreed to do the video.

And so here was Welles down in a cove on the Cornish coast.

Captain Kerry Donegal’s ghost strolled into the waters of the cove cave and stood in front of a rocky entrance to the inlet with a replica of Donegal’s own pirate ship The Not So Green Shamrock in the background.

Donegal began singing, 

“Oh better far to live and die
Under the brave black flag I fly
Than play a sanctimonious part 
With a pirate head and pirate heart 
Away to the cheating world go you
Where pirates all are well-to-do;
But I’ll be true to the song I sing 
And live and die a Pirate King
For I am a Pirate King!
And it is, it is a glorious thing 
To be a Pirate King…”

At the same time as Welles was directing and shooting the scene with his movie cameras, Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell was also filming it on his smart phone.

The video recording was picked up by The Five Eyes Intelligence Network.

The video was flagged and sent to the U.S. NSA for analysis.

One of the leading NSA heads immediately went to Donald Trump to show him the video.

“What the (expletive deleted!)”, Trump said, “Those lines ‘Away to the cheating world go you Where pirates all are well-to-do’, never have I heard such a vicious attack on the best of American capitalism. That video must have been produced under the auspices of those four Democratic Congresswomen who really should be sent back to where they came from (if I only knew where that is) acting in collusion with Nicolas Maduro’s Venezuela.”

-A vampire novel chapter 
written by Christopher
Friday August 2nd 
2019.

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Ghost of Orson Welles Meets Belvedere In Istanbul

May 6, 2019 at 9:40 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, International Intrigue, News, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , )

The ghost of Orson Welles was sitting in a cafe in Istanbul.

He had been told by a Russian spy beluga whale whom he had helped to defect to Norway this past weekend that the lovely mermaid Miranda when swimming through the Bosphorus Strait would often shapeshift into full human form and visit the Marmara Cafe in downtown Istanbul of which she loved the Turkish coffee being served there.

Welles could never recall meeting an actual mermaid in his past mortal life or current ghostly life so he decided to come to Istanbul and visit the Marmara Cafe on the off chance that he might meet Miranda.

Welles sat at a back table in the corner of the cafe and sipped a glass of spectral red wine occasionally glancing at the entrance to see if any woman who might be a mermaid in full human form came walking through the door.

He recited William Butler Yeats’ Sailing To Byzantium as he sat,

“… And therefore have I sailed the seas and come
To the holy city of Byzantium. ”

“Orson!” A voice shouted from the doorway.

It was the voice of Belvedere the ghost of a ghost white salamander.

Belvedere had been human but back in the mid-1880s in the American Wild West had been turned into a ghost white salamander through an ancient Egyptian spell cast by a gypsy woman who worked in the Wild West saloon where he worked as a bartender.

He became the ghost of a ghost white salamander when he crawled outside and was run over by a settlers’ ox cart heading west.

The first and last time Belvedere saw Welles was back in October 1938 just prior to the then Boy Wonder delivering his famous Halloween War of The Worlds broadcast.

“Belvedere,” the ghost of Orson Welles lit a spectral cigar, “Long time no see.”

“I see we’re both ghosts now,” Belvedere sat across from the spectral cinematic talent.

“Such are the ravages of time,” Welles blew rosebud shaped smoke rings, “unless we be vampires, vampiresses, gods, goddesses or immortal dominatrixes who have eaten just the right amount of Lingzhi supernatural mushrooms, we must all succumb to the hands of the scythe wielding spectre Death there to see our flesh melt and our bones turned to dust and our spirits wandering earth, purgatory or paradise until such time as our bodies and souls are reunited into a new transformed whole on the Day of Judgment.”

“Eloquent as ever, my friend,” Belvedere was impressed.

“So, what are you doing these days?” Welles sipped his wine, “What brings you to Istanbul?”.

“I am now a reporter for The Times of London,” the ghost white salamander answered, “I’m here on assignment. Turkey’s chief electoral body has ordered that Istanbul’s local elections be re-held after President Recep Tayyip Erdogan’s Islamist AK Party lost to the opposition secularist CHP Party after a shock opposition victory this past March.”

“It is indeed a hatchet in the cake of dictatorship when the trappings of democracy come crashing down just as the cake is being wheeled into the banquet hall where Ottoman Sultans once dined and harem girls once danced,” Welles helped himself to spectral caviar and spread it on a spectral slice of bread.

“Erdogan is indeed upset about the whole thing,” Belvedere agreed, “He himself used to be Mayor of Istanbul many years ago.”

“Such is the power of the spirit of Byzantium,” Welles drank a toast, “that this city can survive the misrule of a petty despot such as Erdogan.”

“Istanbul’s new CHP Mayor Ekrem Imamoglu is confident that he can win again in the re-held election,” Belvedere remarked.

“Beware the sting of scorpions and the fangs of serpents,” Welles’ baritone voice shook the cafe, “for my friends who still fast in the fires of Purgatory inform me that Lady MacBeth’s ghost serves as an advisor to Erdogan.”

“Great Scot! And great Caesar’s ghost!” Belvedere’s ghostly white face turned even more ghostly white, “Lady MacBeth!”.

“Never was a Film Noir Femme Fatale more femme fatalish than Lady MacBeth as the Bard so adeptly captured her personality, soul and spirit in his Scottish Play,” Welles raised his finger in the air to capture the direction the Mid-East winds were blowing, “for she serves not only as advisor to Erdogan but advisor to Saudi Crown Prince Mohammad bin Salman as well. Tantalizing both claimants to a future Caliphate. Playing one side against the other. Stringing both together as if playing on a harp whose strings are made of human sinews.”

Belvedere decided to change to a cheerier subject.

“Have you ever watched Game of Thrones?” Belvedere asked.

“I have never watched an episode in full,” Welles confessed, “I have watched segments of certain programs on YouTube.”

“What do you think?” Belvedere inquired.

“What do I think?” Welles lit another spectral cigar, inhaled and then exhaled smoke rings like dragons, “I think Game of Thrones captures what the world of Medieval Europe would have been like if there had been no figure of Christ at the center of the culture of Medieval Europe.”

“Really?” Belvedere pondered this thought.

“In such a Medieval Europe,” Welles took the final sip of what remained of his glass, “Every ruler would be able to say… we are all Lady MacBeth.”

As a woman in another corner of the cafe claimed to have just given birth to dragons, the ghost of Lady MacBeth entered the cafe’s entrance still carrying stains of blood on her spectral formerly mortal hands.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday May 6th 2019
Orson Welles’ 104th
birthday.

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Ghost of Orson Welles Recites Poetry While Waiting On Shore For Russian Spy Beluga Whale Defector

May 4, 2019 at 10:14 pm (Commentary, Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, Poetry, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , )

The ghost of Orson Welles stood on the Norwegian shoreline waiting for a Russian spy beluga whale to defect to the Norwegian government.

Standing alongside Welles was the Norwegian defense minister who was busy eating a can of Hertfordshire frozen peas and a can of Norwegian frozen cod.

As Welles sipped a glass of spectral red wine, he recited poetry:

On a sultry Arabian night, fair Scheherazade began the first of her 1001 tales
Whilst here I stand on this Norse shore and wait for a sign or spash from one of the beluga whales
Julian Assange meanwhile is in a British jail
releasing Hillary’s emails may prove a major fail
Does he have a cell mate who’ll sodomize him in the ass?
While Joe Biden laughs, this too shall come to pass?

Today Turkey’s President tweeted another verbal attack against Israel
Because Erdogan thinks he can an Ottoman sultan’s slippers fill
This past week a group of Catholic scholars charged Pope Francis with heresy
Had Francis lived in Christ’s time, would he have been the chief Pharisee?

Another coup attempt in Venezuela
ear marked of CIA hubris-philia
John Bolton and Mike Pompeo continue to beat the drums of war
Whilst Xi and Putin may boot the U.S. through Hades’ door
Are these the times foreseen by William Butler Yeats?
Is humanity’s thread to be cut by the deadliest of the Fates?

Yeats wrote in his poem The Second Coming
in his mind hearing distant war’s drums drumming
The best lack all conviction while the worst are full of passionate intensity.
Today it’s all pride and prejudice, little sense and sensibility.

No Sunday Masses being said in Sri Lanka
Because of Islamic State fanatica
Violence eats innocence with each passing hour
Statesmen are concerned not with truth but with power
And the foot of the god Ares has crushed many a flower

And now I wait for the sight of beluga whale
Humanity’s passing grade is F for a fail
Is dust in the wind all we shall be at the end of the day
As I watch the salt water splash on these shores of Norway?

-A poem written by Christopher
and recited by the ghost
of Orson Welles
Saturday May 4th
2019.


My childhood cinematic hero the great actor, director and writer
Orson Welles
in a poetic, poignant and powerfully compelling scene
from his movie F Is For Fake.

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The Ghost of Orson Welles and The Russian Spy Beluga Whale Defector To Norway

May 3, 2019 at 10:17 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, International Intrigue, Mythology, News, Radio, Spy Tales, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

While British MP Renfield R. Renfield was in Thailand to attend the coronation ceremony of King Maha Vajiralongkorn, his spirit advisors the ghosts of Orson Welles and Sir Winston Churchill were hanging around the colossal London mansion of the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set smoking huge amounts of spectral cigars with Churchill drinking huge amounts of spectral brandy and Welles drinking huge amounts of spectral wine.

After a couple of days of this, an exasperated billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set asked his butler and valet Athelstan, “What’s the number for Ghostbusters?”.

“I regret to say, sir, that Ghostbusters was pure fiction and the Ghostbusters team portrayed by Bill Murray, Dan Aykroyd, Harold Ramis and Ernie Hudson do not exist in reality,” Athelstan sighed.

“Damn,” Set spilled his crocodile casserole all over himself at this upsetting piece of news.

The phone rang.

Athelstan picked it up.

“It’s for you, Orson,” the valet called out to Welles’ ghost who was busy talking to the clock on the living room mantelpiece and telling it, “We will sell no wine before its time.”

“Who is it?” Welles asked.

“It’s Erna Solberg the Prime Minister of Norway,” Athelstan replied.

“What does the Prime Minister of Norway want with me?” Welles asked.

“Well, why don’t you pick up the fucking phone and find out?” Set said angrily as he was using vast amounts of Sherrielock Holmes’ Bavarian Magic Mushroom Stain Remover trying desperately to remove the crocodile casserole stains off his suit and tie.

Welles’ ghost took the phone.

After a long conversation, Welles’ ghost put the phone down.

“What is up, Senor Welles?” Athelstan asked.

“Apparently, that beluga whale that showed up in Norway that some people are calling a Russian spy wants to defect to the Norwegians,” Welles replied.

“And what does that have to do with you?” Set asked as he found out where Renfield kept his secret stash of bourbon (it was under the stairwell under a post office box marked HARRY POTTER Age 21) and helped himself to two bottles of bourbon.

“Apparently, the beluga whale doesn’t speak Norwegian,” Welles replied, “he only speaks Russian (which he learned at the Russian Navy’s Northern Fleet Headquarters in Murmansk where he was being taught to be a spy) and English. Apparently he learned English because his spy handler listened to my old radio programs that are available on the Internet. Shows like The Shadow, The Adventures of Harry Lime, and The Black Museum. He also liked a radio commercial ad I once did for Norwegian cod. Apparently it was that ad which inspired him to defect to Norway. While swimming towards Norwegian waters, he ran into the mermaid Miranda who had met Renfield once on the Israeli coast off Tel Aviv. Miranda told the beluga whale that while it is true that I’m dead, I was granted dispensational leave from Purgatory by Hades the god of the Underworld and I’m currently serving as a spirit advisor to Mr. Renfield along with the ghost of Sir Winston Churchill. The beluga wants to make his formal defection to the Norwegian government with me present.”

“Does that mean you’ll go to Norway and be out of my house for a while?” Set asked as he started working on his 99th bottle of bourbon.

“Yes,” Welles nodded, “If I can borrow one of your Persian flying carpets to fly to Norway.”

“Yes, go down to the Set Enterprises Laboratories and Rug Emporium and get one,” Set directed, “In the name of God, go.”

Welles’ ghost walked out the door and went out into the London night with his spectral fur coat adorning his huge spectral shoulders.

Set looked over into the armchair by the fireplace where Churchill’s ghost sat fast asleep and singing in his sleep, “Oh my darling, oh my darling, oh my darling Clementine, you are lost and gone forever, oh my darling Clementine.”

“Now, if I can only find a way to get rid of that one,” the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire pointed a bony finger at Churchill before falling to the floor in a drunken stupor.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday May 3rd 2019.

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The 3 Goth Witches From MacBeth, Night Wolves and Renfield R. Renfield

July 31, 2018 at 10:59 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, Mythology, News, Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

The 3 Goth Witches From MacBeth, Night Wolves and Renfield R. Renfield

Panty Goatee was disguised as a blue haired devil and had been sent by newly sworn in (and often sworn at) British Prime Minister Renfield R. Renfield on a Christmas 🎄 mission to assassinate Russian President Vladimir Putin who was taking a horse sleigh ride through Moscow’s Gorky Park.

Such was the vision that Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster received from the future on his psychic lobster antennae in his aquarium at Set Enterprises.

Meanwhile future British Prime Minister Renfield R. Renfield was currently visiting the Central European republic of Slovakia 🇸🇰.

He was riding a motorcycle 🏍 driven by Polish vampiress Annaka Wyszynski.

They were heading in the direction of Dolna Krupa a village 70 kilometres (44 miles) from the Slovak capital of Bratislava.

The village (a former military base) was now the European Headquarters of the Night Wolves a Russian 🇷🇺 ultranationalist biker gang with close ties to Russian President Vladimir Putin.

The Night Wolves of Dolna Krupa were about to answer for the Novichok nerve agent caused death of British citizen Dawn Sturgess in a direct message that the future British Prime Minister Renfield R. Renfield was sending to Russian President Vladimir Putin.

If it had been a U.S. citizen who had died as a result of a Novichok caused poisoning, Donald Trump might have fired off an angry tweet about it but then proceed to kiss Vladimir Putin’s ass at the next summit meeting between the two leaders.

Renfield R. Renfield however was cut from a different cloth as the 3 Fates of Greek mythology could definitely attest to.

The Three Goth Witches in a Ghost of Orson Welles directed new European production of MacBeth could attest to that as well.

The Three Goth Witches (who coincidentally were in fact the three witches who had actually met and greeted the original historical MacBeth and predicted his fate and destiny- they were immortal- being the actual daughters of Hecate the Greek goddess of witchcraft (when she was in her beautiful sensuous and sexy young maiden form) and the Greek god Apollo (when he was in his horny young male god emulating his horny father Zeus form) were standing on a hill watching Renfield and the Polish vampiress approach the Night Wolves 🐺 biker gang base at Dolna Krupa.

Said the witches as the moon of the planet Nibiru rose behind them,

“When shall we three meet again,
in thunder, lightning or in rain?
When Putin’s loss is Renfield’s gain
there to meet with Renfield after
Night Wolves have been struck
and slain…”

Renfield entered the base where the Night Wolves were currently at prayer.

The Night Wolves were kneeling on the floor with their foreheads touching the ground and their bums sticking up in the air.

They were praying in a northeasterly direction – in the direction of Moscow.

They were praying before huge painted icons of the late Soviet dictator Josef Stalin and current Russian President Vladimir Putin.

The call to prayer was being howled by Russian she-wolf werewolf Alexandra Goreszhenitsyn in her lupine wolf form.

As Renfield saw all the Night Wolves’ bums stuck up in the air like an invitation to Baphomet on a night when he was feeling happy and gay, he remarked to Polish vampiress Annaka Wyszynski, “It’s a Recep Tayyip Erdogan Ottoman Turkish prison guards’ paradise.”

Renfield then pulled an Uzi submachine gun out of his pocket and blew all the Night Wolves to kingdom come.

666 Night Wolves were dead in all.

The only one who managed to escape was she-wolf werewolf Alexandra Goreszhenitsyn and that was because Renfield was using gold bullets not silver bullets.

“I hope you managed to capture all that on film,” Renfield said to the ghost of Orson Welles as the spectre of the enormous directing talent directed the lighting and camera crews filming the mass shooting.

“I did,” Welles smiled.

“Good,” Renfield grinned, “Upload it to YouTube and at the end of the film credits, don’t forget to put in Russian “Go fuck yourself, Vladimir Putin you degenerate son of a motherless goat 🐐 “ and don’t forget to sign it, “Yours respectfully, Renfield R. Renfield.”

Renfield then left the Night Wolves auditorium where he was approached by the 3 Goth Witches of MacBeth who made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.

When Renfield had pulled the Uzi out of his pocket, he had dropped and left an autographed photo of leather skirted dominatrix Sherrielock Holmes on the floor.

The ghost of Orson Welles picked it up.

He had once shot a film scene with Sherrielock Holmes back in the mid-1950s.

British dominatrix Sherrielock Holmes (the quite literally immortal and eternally young twin sister of detective Sherlock Holmes) wearing a cocktail dress and appearing in a film scene directed by genius director Orson Welles back in the mid-1950s.

It was a brief clip he showed to a big Hollywood film tycoon and producer in hopes that Welles could get money and financial backing from the producer for a film he was intending to make about Sherrielock Holmes.

Alas for poor Orson Welles, the request was denied.

For back in the 1950s…

… Disney was not yet prepared to make a family film about the BDSM lifestyle.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday July 31st
2018.

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