Yaldabaoth and Morrigan

February 10, 2020 at 11:45 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, Mystery, Mythology, Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , )

Yaldabaoth and Morrigan

Yaldabaoth the Irish leprechaun looked exceedingly pleased with himself as he was nestled in the arms of Morrigan the Irish Celtic goddess of war.

The year was 1955.

The place Monte Carlo.

And Yaldabaoth the Irish leprechaun had been cleaning up at the roulette tables.

House management had become concerned.

Unfortunately their regular house detective had been killed in a shoot out last month involving the American CIA, the Soviet KGB, the IRA (Irish Republican Army), the California Harper Valley PTA (Parent-Teachers’ Association) and the American IRS (Internal Revenue Service).

The IRS must have emerged the winner.

Because the IRS operative put a hand in the house detective’s pocket, pulled out a stone and squeezed blood out of the stone into a jar (that had a piece of paper written on the jar’s outside saying For Uncle Sam).

After an hour the stone no longer cosmologically or ontologically existed and the large jar was filled to the top with blood.

The house detective was buried in a grotto honouring the goddess Fortuna.

Los Angeles Private Eye Carson Cody Albion was hired by the casino to serve as house detective until a replacement for the deceased fellow could be found.

So far no one was willing to take the job.

Because Jocasta a parent representative on the California Harper Valley PTA (who was quite overly protective of her son) was one nasty target shooting markswoman.

Fortunately for Carson Cody Albion, he had been turned into an immortal by Atargatis the Syro-Phoenician goddess back in the early 1940s.

So Jocasta’s bullets didn’t amount to much.

Although after missing Albion, they did strike and kill a Ph.D student in Psychology who was doing his doctoral dissertation on the theories of Sigmund Freud and his analysis of the connection between the male libido and psyche.

When Albion opened the hotel room door, he saw Yaldabaoth in the arms of Morrigan.

“Other guests in the hotel have been complaining about the sound of spanking coming from this room,”
Albion said.

“That is strange,” Yaldabaoth admitted.

“May I inquire, sir, as to why both your pants and underpants are on the floor and your bottom seems to be glowing like the fireflies of a warm August night?” Albion asked.

“I must confess I’m at a loss for words,” Yaldabaoth answered.

Morrigan reached over to the dresser, pulled a dictionary off it and handed it to the leprechaun.

“Even more than the sound of spanking,” Albion cleared his throat, “management is concerned about your constant winning at the roulette wheel.”

“It is the luck of the Irish, it is,” Yaldabaoth grinned.

“Our detectors detected a magnet coming from your direction,” Albion stated.

“Ah, for sure ’tis my magnetic personality,” the leprechaun smiled, “overflowing like the River Shannon after a week of spring rains.”

“What about this magnet on your belt?” The detective picked up the leprechaun’s pants.

“As Saint Patrick is my witness, I don’t know how that got there,” the leprechaun protested.

“But Saint Patrick isn’t here to be your witness,” Morrigan pointed out.

“Shibboleth, I don’t know what to say,” Yaldabaoth shook his head.

“You might start by improving the pronunciation of your conversational ancient Hebrew,” Albion noted.

The detective had recently taken a course in conversational ancient Hebrew.

“I know how to punish Yaldabaoth for his offences,” Morrigan once again took the leprechaun over her knee.

“I’ll show myself out,” Albion remarked as he went over to the door, opened it and exited.

-A vampire novel chapter 
written by Christopher
Sunday January 19th
2020
Finally posted on 
Monday February 10th
2020.
The Morrigan-Yaldabaoth the
Irish leprechaun story for Anonymole.

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A Julian Calendar Christmas Day In Mar-a-Lago

January 7, 2020 at 11:55 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, News, Spy Tales, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , )

A Julian Calendar Christmas Day In Mar-a-Lago

Yaldabaoth the Irish leprechaun sat reading the book The Guns of August by historian Barbara W. Tuchman as he was sitting in the lobby of the Mar-a-Lago resort in Florida.

It was a book recommended to him by his friend British MP Renfield R. Renfield.

He had watched an interview last night on BBC America of a BBC World News interview between anchorwoman Geeta Guru-Murthy and his friend Renfield.

Yaldabaoth had text messaged Renfield asking if there were any good books he could read which could enlighten him to the current world situation vis-a-vis Iran and the U.S.

Renfield had replied recommending Tuchman’s book The Guns of August as it could serve as an historical antecedent to the current world situation.

Yaldabaoth’s mother Sophia the Greco-Egyptian Gnostic goddess of wisdom would soon be joining him for dinner.

Meanwhile up at the lobby desk, a very beautiful and very sexy (in Yaldabaoth’s opinion) woman who called herself Dolly Castro was talking to the resort manager.

“Yes, I sent the President a photo of yourself and also what you’re currently wearing and he says he’s very ready to meet you,” the manager said, “but before he invites you to the White House for a one-on-one meeting, he wants to know, since you have the last name of Castro, if you’re at all related to an infamous Castro. ”

The woman frowned.

“So,” the manager asked, paraphrasing Sen. Joe McCarthy, “Are you now or have you ever been related to Julian Castro?”.

Julian Castro was a former candidate for the U.S. Democratic Party Presidential nomination who had recently withdrawn from the race. 

He had also served in Barack Obama’s cabinet as Secretary of Housing and Urban Development.

“No,” Dolly Castro smiled, “I’m not. Nor have I ever been.”

“All right,” the manager smiled, “he’s officially invited you to the White House then. I understand you have a gift you’re bringing him?”.

“Yes,” Dolly smiled, “It’s a new type of Australian harmonica. Invented by a notable Australian eccentric named Uncle Ernie.”

. . .

In the resort’s main dining room, Sophia was discussing with Yaldabaoth a woman named Bella Dodd whom she had met in the U.S. back in the 1950s.

Bella Dodd had been a member of the American Communist Party back in the 1930s and 1940s.

She had converted back to Roman Catholicism in the early 1950s (she had been Catholic in her childhood and her youth) after taking classes from then Monsignor Fulton J. Sheen (a notable Roman Catholic preacher on both radio and television).

Bella Dodd had told Sheen about how she had been given an assignment by Joseph Stalin himself back in the 1930s.

Stalin had a plan to destroy the Catholic Church by getting Communists to infiltrate their seminaries and becoming priests and eventually bishops and hopefully even Cardinals.

Dodd was asked to recruit Communist men for Catholic seminaries in the U.S.

She was told by her Soviet handler to get men who were not only Communist but homosexual as well since men with those sexual proclivities had been found to be very useful to the Communist cause in terms of infiltration and espionage.

Seeing as how Bella Dodd was an extremely attractive woman when she was younger, she should have no trouble determining which potential recruits were indeed homosexual.

A lot of Dodd’s recruits were ordained by Francis Spellman who was Archbishop of New York from 1939 until his death in 1967.

Spellman who was homosexual himself (although not a Communist) needless to say showed a surprising affection for Dodd’s recruits (although he did not know they were Dodd’s recruits).

From Spellman’s patronage, a lot of these homosexual recruits formed a sort of Spellman Apostolic Succession in the U.S. Catholic Church becoming leading priests, bishops and cardinals.

The successors of Spellman’s pink affections for closet reds make up a large proportion of the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops today.

A lot of these original Dodd recruits and the men they recruited had sexual proclivities not only gay but in particular a hankering for altar boys and young seminarians.

The most notorious of which was the Communist homosexual Theodore (ex-Cardinal) McCarrick who negotiated the pact signed between the Vatican and Xi’s Communist China that sold out the Underground Catholic Church in China telling those worshippers to place themselves under Xi’s state controlled church.

In addition to selling out China’s underground Catholics, McCarrick also buggered several altar boys and seminarians during the course of his long undistinguished ecclesiastical career.

McCarrick, who had been under Pope Francis’ personal protection, was only finally reprimanded and laicized when his crimes became public.

Of course if you’re a devout Chinese Catholic woman, you’ll earn yourself a very violent slap on the hand from Pope Francis right in public if you wish to discuss the persecution (that Catholics in China are still facing) with the pontiff while you’re waiting in a public audience line.

The next day the so-called Successor of Peter would mention how abhorrent violence against women is.

Yet another example of the Neo-Bolshevik Francis’ “do as I say not as I do” attitude.

-A vampire novel chapter 
written by Christopher 
Tuesday January 7th
2020.


Sophia the Greco-Egyptian Gnostic Goddess of Wisdom had many men ogling her when she visited New York City in the early 1950s.
Save of course for New York’s Francis Cardinal Spellman who was ogling the man directly behind her.

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Yaldabaoth In Trinidad

December 27, 2019 at 10:53 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, Mythology, News, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , )

Yaldabaoth In Trinidad

Yaldabaoth the Irish leprechaun was spending his Christmas vacation on the Caribbean island of Trinidad.

After visiting a small Christmas market in Dublin earlier this month, he had bought himself an old LP record of The Andrews Sisters.

He particularly enjoyed their song Rum and Coca-Cola whose lyrics included these words:

If you ever go down Trinidad
They make you feel so very glad
Calypso sing and make up rhyme
Guarantee you one real good fine time…

Yaldabaoth was so impressed, he immediately booked a trip to Trinidad.

Now he sat on a nice warm sandy beach in Trinidad drinking a dozen rums and coca-colas under his beach umbrella.

“You’re Yaldabaoth the Irish leprechaun aren’t you?” Asked the Norse trickster god Loki as he set up a beach umbrella about six feet away from Yaldabaoth.

“I am,” the leprechaun nodded as he sipped one of his many rums and coca-colas, “but my mother Sophia the Gnostic Greco-Egyptian goddess of wisdom tells people that I’m the creator of the physical material universe. She doesn’t have the heart to say that I’m a sobriety challenged leprechaun.”

“Have you ever thought of joining Alcoholics Anonymous?” Loki asked as he finally managed to get his beach umbrella in the right place.

“Never,” Yaldabaoth answered as he ordered another dozen rums and coca-colas from the waitress.

“I’m the Norse god Loki,” the trickster god put on his sunglasses, “I’m tired of freezing my nuts off in the Jotunheim Mountains waiting for the Battle of Ragnarok to begin while Odin strolls around playing reindeer games with Rudolphus the Fire-Breathing Reindeer. So I’m here in warmer climes.”

Meanwhile in Moscow, Russian President Vladimir Putin was announcing the launch of the new Avangard hypersonic missile system.

As he pushed the button to signal the start of the test, he announced, “I know for a fact that Donald Trump doesn’t have one of these,” as the Russian leader held his right hand down the front of his trousers.

“I wonder how he knows for a fact that Donald Trump doesn’t have one of these,” a Russian Army General muttered under his breath.

Sadly for the Russian General however, he didn’t mutter it under his breath quite low enough.

Putin overheard the remark.

Within minutes, the General found himself being abducted by mask clad Russian commandos and taken to a remote island in the Arctic Circle where a number of Russian Opposition party members suddenly found themselves this past week.

Back in Trinidad, Loki was bending over on the Trinidadian sandy beach to once again get his beach umbrella back in place to his liking.

Loki’s derrière made a tempting sight for the new Russian Avangard hypersonic missile approaching travelling at 27 times the speed of sound.

Loki soon found himself tens of thousands of miles away from that beach umbrella.

One of Pope Francis’ numerous homosexual Cardinals, who was currently celebrating Christmas down in Trinidad, arrived on the scene.

“Gosh,” the Cardinal sighed, “If I had been on the beach only half an hour earlier, I might have been the one who claimed this spot. I might have been the one bending over at the time that divinely shaped object arrived. I could have been the one carried all the way to Wonderland in my rear end.”

Meanwhile Loki was boldly going where no trickster god had gone before.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday December 27th
2019.

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Yaldabaoth, Bono and The Pachamama Grasses

November 8, 2019 at 11:38 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, News, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , )

Yaldabaoth, Bono and The Pachamama Grasses 

Back on Monday October 28th 2019 the day after the Vatican’s Amazon Synod ended, Pope Francis had a meeting with U2 singer Bono and economist Jeffrey Sachs.

At the meeting, Pope Francis’ Vatican and the United Nations signed a pact on sustainable development and global governance by the year 2030.

During that meeting, Pope Francis also gave Bono a planter of some grasses and soil that had been used to invoke the ancient Inca Earth Mother goddess Pachamama at a special ceremony in the Vatican Gardens back on October 4th before the Amazon Synod began.

The same planter of grasses and soil had been given to Pope Francis along with the Communion bread and wine as gifts to be presented on the High Altar of Saint Peter’s Basilica for the closing Mass of the Amazon Synod on October 27th.

Now the planter of Pachamama grasses and soil had been given to Bono by Pope Francis.

But none of this was known to or of any concern to Yaldabaoth the Irish leprechaun who was walking through the Irish countryside on this Friday evening singing,

“You think she was Queen of the land 
and her hair hung over her shoulders
all tied up with a black velvet band…”

As he walked down the road, he ran into a cow he knew called Daisy Daily.

“Moo!” Daisy greeted him.

“Hello, Daisy,” Yaldabaoth doffed his hat, “You’re a long way from Farmer Riley’s farm.”

“Moo!” Daisy answered him.

“You’re looking for something to eat eh?” Yaldabaoth scratched his head and took a nip from a bottle of Irish whiskey, “Well, I think Bono the U2 singer has his estate somewhere near here. Let’s go see if he has anything to eat at his place.”

Leprechaun and cow headed off down the road to the Bono estate.

Yaldabaoth rang the doorbell of the great house which was promptly answered by Higgins who was Bono’s butler and valet.

“Hello, Higgins,” Yaldabaoth likewise doffed his hat to the butler, “My friend Daisy Daily was looking for something to eat and we were wondering if you could give her something.”

“Well…” Higgins said.

“Moo!” Daisy walked into the house and walked over to the sitting room window where the planter of Pachamama grasses and soil was located.

“Moo!” Daisy proclaimed before eating all the grasses.

The cow then got into the punch bowl on the sitting room table and drank all the punch.

“There’s about 40 litres of alcohol in that punch,” Higgins said.

“Well, not anymore,” Yaldabaoth remarked, “It’s in Daisy now.”

A now inebriated Daisy knocked over the planter of Pachamama soil with her tail.

“I apologize, Higgins,” Yaldabaoth opened the closet door and grabbed the vacuum cleaner, “let me vacuum that up for you.”

The leprechaun then vacuumed up all the dirt.

“That was sacred soil I was told,” Higgins’ hair had turned white.

“Now mixed in with sacred potato chip bits and sacred chocolate bar wrappers,” Yaldabaoth emptied the contents of the vacuum cleaner down the estate’s garbage chute.

“I wonder what Bono will say?” Higgins shook his head.

“Probably I still haven’t found what I’m looking for if he decides to go through the garbage,” Yaldabaoth directed Daisy Daily out the front door where leprechaun and cow headed back to Farmer Riley’s farm.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday November 8th
2019.

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Asmodeus In Rome On Saint Raphael’s Day

October 24, 2019 at 10:31 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, News, Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , , )

Asmodeus In Rome On Saint Raphael’s Day 

The demon Asmodeus was sitting in a Rome taverna and enjoying a glass of absinthe with the little green frog Nimrod (who had been a mighty hunter back in the day of the Old Testament Book of Genesis).

The TV in the taverna was on and the news was being read,

“In Britain, Renfield R. Renfield the UK’s Deputy Foreign Secretary In Charge of Geopolitical Intelligence Gathering has been placed in charge of the investigation to find the human trafficking gang responsible for the deaths of 39 migrants who had been found frozen to death in a refrigerator truck that was parked in an industrial area in Essex…”

“I wonder what will happen to the human traffickers when Renfield gets his hands on them?” Nimrod asked.

“I imagine from what I’ve heard of Renfield’s reputation,” Asmodeus lit his 10,000th cigarette of the day, “they will die a slow painful death by bodily dismemberment.”

“I suppose that’s why Renfield is considered the inspiration for the character of Raymond Red Reddington on The Blacklist TV show,” Nimrod licked up absinthe from his glass with his long tongue.

“I imagine,” Asmodeus agreed as he sipped his absinthe.

“In other news,” the announcer on the TV went on, “Pope Francis dove into the Tiber River today when he spotted what he thought were Pachamama idols floating by. The idols had been thrown off the bridge into the Tiber River on Monday…”

“I wonder if Pope Francis knows how to swim,” Nimrod finished his absinthe.

“Don’t know,” Asmodeus shrugged as he motioned for the waiter to bring another couple of glasses of absinthe.

A girl walked by the window wearing a Saint Raphael medal around her neck.

“Great balls of fire,” Asmodeus turned pale and made a reverse Sign of the Cross.

“What is it?” Nimrod inquired.

“That woman was wearing a Saint Raphael medal,” Asmodeus answered.

“Si, signor,” the waiter said as he put down the glasses of absinthe, “today is Saint Raphael’s Day on the old Roman Rite Latin calendar.”

“What have you got against Saint Raphael?” Nimrod asked Asmodeus when the waiter departed.

“Well over 2 millennia and a half ago, when I had the hots for a young Hebrew maiden named Sarah so much so that I murdered 7 of her husbands on the night their marriages to her were supposed to be consummated,” Asmodeus explained, “The Archangel Raphael befriended a young Hebrew man named Tobias and helped him get engaged to Sarah. The awful smell of a fish’s liver and heart being burnt and its fumes drove me away when I tried to attack Tobias on their wedding night. The smell was so bad, I fled from Media (where Sarah lived) all the way to Upper Egypt where Raphael followed me, bound me and buried me. I lay bound and buried for several centuries until an intoxicated Irish leprechaun named Yaldabaoth accidentally released me while he was visiting his mother Sophia in Egypt.”

“I can see why you’re not very happy with Raphael,” Nimrod nodded.

Meanwhile in another part of Rome, the Greek goddess Artemis rang the doorbell of a Vatican Cardinal’s apartment.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday October 24th
2019.

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The Riddle of The Sphinx

October 8, 2019 at 10:13 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, News, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , )

The Riddle of The Sphinx

Prince Vlad Dracula was on the ground in the Syrian-Iraqi border area where Kurdish forces were under attack by Turkish planes.

Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan the would be Sultan of a revived Ottoman Empire did not waste any time after Donald Trump announced a withdrawal of U.S. troops from Syria.

The Kurds may have helped defeat the evil Islamic State (aka ISIS) but gratitude is something historically that the U.S. government has never really believed in no matter who was the President.

Donald Trump the would be neo-Roman God-Emperor of the United States said that he would use his “great and unmatched wisdom” to destroy Turkey’s economy if Erdogan took advantage.

The same way Trump’s “great and unmatched wisdom” in getting into a trade war with China and the possibility of it getting worse caused stock markets to drastically fall today.

The “great and unmatched wisdom” of a simple phone call with a Ukrainian leader which had since led to an impeachment inquiry by the U.S. House of Representatives.

The “great and unmatched wisdom” in accusing Rep. Adam Schiff and Rep. Nancy Pelosi of “treason” and saying they should be “impeached” (the “great and unmatched wisdom” seemingly unaware that Congresspeople cannot be impeached).

Prince Vlad Dracula thought to himself that Trump showed the strategic ability of a certain branch of the Caesar family.

Trump showed the strategic ability of the Emperor Gaius Caligula as opposed to the strategic ability of Caligula’s father the great Roman General Germanicus (who helped conquer Germany for the Romans).

Prince Vlad Dracula pulled out his smart phone and made a call to British MP Renfield R. Renfield the UK’s Deputy Foreign Secretary In Charge of Geopolitical Intelligence Gathering.

The Kurds were going to need all the help they could get in defeating the Turks.

. . .

Donald Trump was looking in the mirror and singing his own paraphrased version of an old country and western music song,

“Oh Donald, it’s hard to be humble 
When you’re perfect in every way
I can’t wait to look in the mirror
Cause I get better looking each day
To know me is to love me
I must be a Hell of a man 
Oh Donald, it’s hard to be humble
But I’m doing the best that I can…”

Melania Trump who had been standing outside the open bedroom door and listening suddenly doubled over into huge gales of laughter.

She continued to laugh hysterically.

Yvette the French maid asked Lexington the English butler and valet, “What is the matter with Madame Trump?”.”

“I’m not sure,” said a concerned and worried Lexington, “but I fear insanity may be contagious around the White House.”

. . .

Sophia the Greco-Egyptian Gnostic goddess of wisdom sat on what became her throne along the banks of the River Thames.

A huge Sphinx that sat on one of the embankments.

Today a group of her devotees gathered in front of her.

Sophia was worried that her son Yaldabaoth the Irish leprechaun would soon be without a place to sleep as her sobriety challenged leprechaun son slept on the border between the Republic of Ireland and Northern Ireland.

What would happen if that border once again became a hard border?

She had summoned her followers to see if anything could be done to get German Chancellor Angela Merkel to accept the Renfield-Johnson Plan on Brexit and the Irish border.

Renfield walking along the banks of the Thames saw the gathering.

Renfield took off his top hat and spoke, “I have a suggestion.”

“Yes,” Sophia looked at him with her flashing dark eyes.

“Your grasp of the Sphinx’s claws has given me an idea,” said Renfield.

And on this day, Sherlock Holmes was no longer around to solve the Curious Matter of The Grasp of The Sphinx’s Claws.

To be continued.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday October 8th
2019.

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Boris Johnson Adopts Renfield’s Plan For Brexit

October 2, 2019 at 10:56 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, News, The Occult, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , )

Boris Johnson Adopts Renfield’s Plan For Brexit

“Well, you certainly look as pleased as punch,” Amadeus Emanon remarked to his friend British MP Renfield R. Renfield as he walked through the door.

“I am,” Renfield helped himself to a glass of punch from the bowl of punch that Athelstan the butler had made.

“What brought this about?” Amadeus asked.

“Boris Johnson has adopted my plan that only Northern Ireland should be subject to the backstop rather than the entire United Kingdom,” Renfield grinned.

“And how exactly will that work?” Amadeus asked.

“Northern Ireland will stay in the European single market for goods,” Renfield replied, “and of course Johnson did add some touches of his own like the Stormont Assembly for Northern Ireland voting to adopt the arrangements first and then voting every four years on keeping them. But Northern Ireland would exit the customs union along with the rest of the UK under Johnson’s adaptations of my original plan. But the rest of the UK leaving the entire 
single market is my basic idea.”

“I see Jeremy Corbyn has said the plan is even worse than Theresa May’s plan for Brexit,” Amadeus noted.

“And it’s for that reason that I’ve officially nominated Jeremy Corbyn for the Jackass of The Year Award,” Renfield helped himself to a second glass of punch.

“The Liberal Democrats and the Scottish Nationalists are against it as well,” Amadeus added.

“The Liberal Democrats and the Scottish Nationalists are so full of shit that if you gave them all an enema before they died, you could bury them all in the same cigar box,” was Renfield’s final commentary for the night.

. . .

Yaldabaoth the Irish leprechaun was once again sleeping on the border that divided Northern Ireland from the south.

He was awakened by the sound of voices talking.

Yaldabaoth looked and noted a golden cobra walking alongside a green skinned man dressed as an Egyptian Pharaoh.

The leprechaun recognized the golden cobra as Maitreya who had crowned himself High King of Ireland at Tara on Saint Patrick’s Day of 2018.

He recognized the green skinned man dressed like an Egyptian Pharaoh as the god Osiris from pictures he had seen of the deity from an Egyptology course that the leprechaun had taken at Trinity College in Dublin many years ago.

“So,” Osiris boasted, “friends of mine have arranged for the Vatican Cardinal Samhain Cardinal Salaman to say the ancient Celtic Druidic Mass of Samhain this coming Halloween on the Republic of Ireland/Northern Ireland UK border to forever enslave all of Britain to the European Union of which I shall someday become Pharaoh.”

“So if I help you become Pharaoh of Europe,” Maitreya spoke, “I shall remain High King of Ireland once the Republic and the North join together as one.”

“That is correct,” Osiris nodded.

“What about this British MP Renfield R. Renfield?” Maitreya asked, “Won’t he put a damper in your plans?”.

“I shall have to find away to deal with this man who used to be Chief of Security and Intelligence Gathering for my brother Set,” Osiris seethed.

A text message went off on the green deity’s smart phone.

Osiris looked at it, “It’s from George Soros.”

“Is he afraid that Donald Trump has found out that the Democratic National Committee server was in fact based in Ukraine and that’s how it was so easy for the Russians to hack it?” Maitreya inquired.

“We shall see,” Osiris took the call.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday October 2nd
2019.

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Qonzilqointec, The Federal Reserve and Ho Babylon Minh

September 20, 2019 at 10:58 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, News, Romance, Spy Tales, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , )

Qonzilqointec, The Federal Reserve and Ho Babylon Minh

The Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec took a selfie of herself prior to going out with Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing to meet British Prime Minister Boris Johnson, the Irish border leprechaun Yaldabaoth, the French Aquarian Age Bonapartist MEP the Kraken Napoloeon VI and his ex-Gorgon wife Medusa to find a possible solution to the Brexit crisis involving the Irish backstop.

Qonzilqointec’s spiritual godfather the Aztec feathered serpent god Quetzalcoatl had offered to intervene as a mediator in the dispute between Britain and the EU.

Britain’s NHS (National Health Service) had informed Mr. Johnson however that the NHS was not able to give Mr. Quetzalcoatl the amount of living human hearts he required as payment for his mediation services.

Meanwhile the American news media was full of the story that Donald Trump had asked the government of Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky to investigate Democratic Presidential candidate Joe Biden’s son Hunter for corruption.

As the American news media were busy wringing their hands over this, Amadeus Emanon the musician and singer who was employed as personal concert pianist to the London based billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set was more concerned about a small news story that had appeared in the Wall Street Journal today – a story that was taken down off its news website a few hours later although it could still be found if one used a search engine to search for it but unless people knew that the story was out there, they most likely would not search for it.

The story was the Federal Reserve Bank of New York was offering to add at least $75 billion daily to the financial system until October 10th to ensure the liquidity of the financial system.

The Wall Street Journal added that the Fed will conduct further operations as needed after October 10th.

Amadeus could have asked his employer Set about the matter but the Egyptian god of night and the desert was currently on a vision quest and attending a Cree First Nation sweat lodge ceremony at Elk Island National Park in the Canadian province of Alberta.

So Amadeus went to ask his friend British MP Renfield R. Renfield the Deputy Foreign Secretary In Charge of Geopolitical Intelligence Gathering instead.

“Wasn’t the Fed doing something similar to this before the global financial crisis of 2008?” Amadeus asked.

“It was,” Renfield admitted.

“God,” Amadeus turned pale, “I wish you had broken it to me gently in answering this question.”

“Well I’m sorry,” said Renfield, “but I haven’t been in politics as long as Donald Trump and Justin Trudeau have in order to come up with real whoppers to shield people from unpleasant truth and reality.”

Mammon, the ancient Babylonian god of banking and commerce and patron demon of wealthy elitist oligarchs, isn’t too concerned about the impact that another global financial crisis might have on average folks and those who are struggling below the poverty level 

Meanwhile in Australia, a notorious Australian misfit known to all as Uncle Ernie had (because he was stoned out of his mind) walked into the ladies’ washroom of a prestigious restaurant in Sydney’s Chinatown where he encountered the Vietnamese vampiress Ho Babylon Minh who was currently working for the Chinese Communist government in Beijing:

“Jesus!” exclaimed Uncle Ernie, “I need to get my hands on some Viagra quick!”.

He then passed out.

-A vampire novel chapter 
Written by Christopher
Friday September 20th
2019.

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Dracul Van Helsing, The Goddess Sophia, Yaldabaoth and The Irish Backstop

September 6, 2019 at 10:59 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, Gothic romance, History, International Intrigue, Mythology, News, Philosophy, Politics, Religion, Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , )

Dracul Van Helsing, The Goddess Sophia, Yaldabaoth and The Irish Backstop

Sophia the Greco-Egyptian Gnostic goddess of wisdom was worried.

What would happen to her son Yaldabaoth the Irish leprechaun if a hard border was once again built on the Republic of Ireland-UK Northern Ireland border?

Her son Yaldabaoth was a leprechaun with a serious drinking problem.

He was the only being in all recorded history to be officially banned by court injunction from attending AA (Alcoholics Anonymous) meetings as any meeting he attended invariably ended up with all those present at the meetings falling off the wagon.

Yaldabaoth had the irritating habit of always falling asleep right on the line of the Republic of Ireland/UK Northern Ireland border.

This was fine as long as the border was an open (rather than a closed) border as it had been ever since the Good Friday Agreement was signed back in 1998.

But Good Friday 1998 might come to an end at Halloween 2019 if there was a no-deal Brexit.

Of course the House of Commons and the House of Lords had just passed a bill brought forth by the anti-Semitic Labour leader Jeremy Corbyn to stop a no-deal Brexit from happening this coming Halloween (ironically in this regard Corbyn was fulfilling the agenda of the pro-globalist, pro-EU and New World Order One World Government oriented Rothschilds).

However the trouble was British MP Renfield R. Renfield was backing Boris Johnson in his quest to have Brexit by Halloween 2019.

And Sophia the Greco-Egyptian Gnostic goddess of wisdom being wise knew that one should never underestimate Renfield R. Renfield even though the pro-EU segments of the British Parliament and much of the British and American news media were doing just that.

Boris Johnson may have run out of tricks up his sleeve but Renfield hadn’t.

Already Sophia could visualize a Brexit firecracker exploding in Jeremy Corbyn’s rear end as the clock hit 11:59 PM on October 31st 2019 and Renfield shouted “Trick or Treat” from the window of his room in a Soho whore house.

And if a no-deal Brexit occurred and there was once again a hard Irish border, her son Yaldabaoth could end up buried underneath a concrete wall.

Unlike the American authorities and the whereabouts of Jimmy Hoffa, she’d know where the body is buried.

But this would be of small comfort to her.

After all, she had told people through the centuries that her son Yaldabaoth was the Demi-Urge who created the material physical universe.

And if it came out that her son was actually an Irish leprechaun with a serious drinking problem who now lay buried under concrete on the Irish border, well, she’d positively die of embarrassment.

Of course Sophia knew that the Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing was a friend of Renfield R. Renfield.

She figured that if she whipped him up her famous Greco-Egyptian-Irish-Italian-Norse-Greenlander omelette for breakfast and gave him a great tantric sex piece of tail as a midnight offering, he might put in a good word for her with Renfield.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday September 6th
2019.

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Athena and Dashwood Forrest

July 5, 2019 at 11:27 pm (Folklore, Mythology, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , )

Athena and Dashwood Forrest 

“That bust does not do you justice, Athena,” London art gallery curator Dashwood Forrest remarked to the Greek goddess of Wisdom.

“To which one of her breasts are you referring, Master?” Asked Mulligan the Irish zombie who was Dashwood Forrest’s somewhat inept living dead manservant.

“Mulligan, go outside and play in the rain,” Forrest ordered.

The Irish zombie did so where he was swept away by the rain.

“I apologize for the idiotic intrusion,” Forrest bowed to the Greek goddess.

“It’s all right,” Athena smiled, “I found his remark somewhat amusing.”

“I wish more customers were like you,” Forrest sighed, “Mulligan drives a lot of them away with his comments that is if his zombie appearance doesn’t drive them away first.”

“Who sculpted this bust of me?” Athena asked.

“A chap by the name of Mario Rossini,” Forrest answered, “A promising young sculptor who was killed after being hit by a train while moulding a clay figure of a bull (in a farm field) while sitting on a railway track. He really took the combined fields of performance art and sculpture to a new level. What level of Dante’s cosmos he wound up in, I could not say.”

“I don’t think I shall purchase this bust of me,” Athena moved on to an oil painting of Hermes.

“I do not blame you,” Forrest placed a towel on the head.

“What a remarkable figure of a leprechaun,” Athena looked at a clay statue of a leprechaun, “he looks somewhat like my grandson.”

Forrest coughed, “Grandson? But I thought you were a virgin goddess?”.

“Have you never heard of artificial insemination, Mr. Forrest?” Athena winked at him.

Forrest turned ghastly pale at the Greek goddess’ remark.

“Relax, Mr. Forrest,” Athena laughed, “I’m only joking.”

“Thank God,” Forrest looked relieved.

“You no doubt heard how I was born from my father’s head when my father Zeus had a headache,” Athena recalled.

“That tale I remember very well,” Forrest commented as he took an aspirin with a glass of water.

“Well one day I had a headache after walking across the desert sands of Egypt feeling quite dehydrated and I gave birth to Sophia from my head,” Athena recounted.

“Sophia?” Forrest drank the water.

“The Greco-Egyptian Gnostic goddess of wisdom,” Athena explained, “worshipped by various Gnostic groups throughout the centuries. Anyhow back in the 1st Century AD, she encountered the immortal Egyptian scientist Imhotep. Imhotep was working on the concept of artificial insemination back then and he artificially inseminated Sophia and she gave birth to a leprechaun whom she called Yaldabaoth.”

“That name Yaldabaoth sounds familiar,” Forrest creased his eyebrows in thought, “but I don’t associate him with leprechauns.”

“Well no mother wants to say her son is a leprechaun with a serious drinking problem,” Athena smiled, “so she told people that Yaldabaoth was the demiurge who created the material physical universe.”

“Oh yes,” Forrest nodded, “that’s where I’ve heard the name.”

Meanwhile Mulligan the Irish zombie was being swept down the street in a torrent of rain water.

He suddenly came to a halt after crashing into an alley wall.

But not before knocking over a garbage can first.

Out of the garbage can fell an Irish leprechaun.

“Saint Patrick and Saint Kevin preserve us!” Yaldabaoth exclaimed, “What a rude awakening!”.

“Mulligan!” The Irish zombie doffed his shamrock emblazoned cap to the little fellow, “Irish zombie Mulligan.”

“Yaldabaoth!” The leprechaun replied, “Irish leprechaun Yaldabaoth! And I dare you to try and pronounce that name correctly after you’ve had 20 glasses of whiskey.”

-A vampire novel chapter 
written by Christopher
Friday July 5th
2019.

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