Renfield R. Renfield and Amadeus Emanon were at an isolated spot on England's southern coast awaiting the arrival of a dirigible.
"Why a dirigible?" Amadeus asked Renfield.
"Well with all these airports being shut down now and again throughout Europe and in the northeastern United States due to the weather, I couldn't take a chance on a plane," Renfield explained, "that's why I'm having a dirigible flown in from New York City, that way I don't have to worry about airports being closed."
"And what's on this dirigible?" Amadeus inquired.
"A frozen shadow," Renfield replied.
"A frozen shadow?" Amadeus was confused.
"Yes, a shadow that's been frozen," Renfield explained, "I suspect this shadow is a material manifestation of the severed immortal and invisible serpent-dragon head of the demon Rahu mentioned in ancient Hindu scriptures as hanging around during lunar and solar eclipses trying to swallow either the sun or the moon. He manifested himself in the U.S. during last week's total lunar eclipse on the winter solstice. According to Scotland Yard computers I hacked into, I believe he was responsible for 372 murders that were committed throughout the U.S. on that day. A mysterious shadow-like entity was seen in the vicinity of all the murders committed throughout the entire time period when the lunar eclipse was taking place."
"How did it come to be frozen?" Amadeus asked.
"It made the mistake of hanging around the northeastern United States after the winter solstice lunar eclipse," Renfield answered, "I guess not even demons can get enough of New York City's Times Square. But following the severe snow storm of the past couple of days, it ended up being frozen in Central Park. An employee of Set Enterprises in New York City found it while he was out snowshoeing in the Park and alerted me."
"How is it possible for a supernatural entity to have been frozen by this severe snow storm?" Amadeus wanted to know.
"I don't believe this was any ordinary snow storm," Renfield replied, "I believe it was caused by the Frost Giants or Jutuns of Norse mythology. They seem to have come down to Earth again for some reason."
"There seem to be a lot of supernatural creatures mentioned in the various world mythologies who have been coming back to Earth this past year," Amadeus noted.
"Indeed," Renfield agreed, "if this keeps up, the UN may have to start worrying about overpopulation of supernatural entities on this planet."
To be continued.
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Dark Shadows of the Moon
An elderly couple were walking the streets of downtown Seattle late at night trying to find a taxi.
As this night had been their wedding anniversary they decided to be late night owls in their favourite restaurant.
11:30 PM. Monday December 20th.
They window shopped through some of the store windows as they walked down the street trying to locate a taxi.
"That statue there in the pawn shop window," the wife remarked to her husband, "it's quite ferocious looking. Who is it supposed to be a statue of?".
"The demon Rahu," the man looked at the name tag below the statue.
Just then a figure emerged out of the darkness of night and slit the old man's throat.
The wife screamed.
* * *
In Chicago in a pedriatics unit of a leading hospital, one of the nurses thought she saw a mysterious shadow moving and approaching the room where the new borns were kept.
She immediately ran down the hall.
And opened the door.
Just in time to see the shadow like figure smashing a baby's head against the wall.
She screamed.
* * *
New York City.
The attractive and extremely beautiful blonde was dressed to the nines in a very tight fitting red mini dress, black silk fishnet nylons and black spiked stiletto heels.
She had been partying the night away in a posh nightclub.
She decided to step into a back alley to vomit as she couldn't find her way to the washroom and the door that said EXIT rather than Women's had led her to this place.
She vomited.
All those shooters and cocktails didn't feel quite as good going up as they had going down.
She thought she heard a noise.
She looked up.
All she saw there was shadow.
A shadow that moved.
A shadow that raised the knife.
A shadow that slit her throat.
If she wasn't already dead, she'd have probably screamed at that point.
* * *
Inspector Depp of Scotland Yard was also a member of Interpol and thus received police reports from all over the world.
He was looking at a baffling FBI report he had just received.
A series of 372 brutal and bizarre murders had been committed in the United States of America in just a 3 and a half hour time period.
An elderly gentleman with his throat slashed in downtown Seattle. A new born babe had his head bashed against the wall in a Chicago hospital pedriatics unit.
A young and beautiful twentysomething socialite had her throat slashed in New York City. And the list went on.
Any witnesses to the crimes reported seeing a mysterious and swift moving shadow.
No real human form.
Just a shadow.
Inside the office with Inspector Depp was Inspector Depp's good friend the Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing.
He had handed the report to Dracul.
Dracul noted the times.
He checked his own watch which was always set to Alberta time- the time of the province of his birth.
"You know," Dracul said, "all these murders were all committed between 11:33 PM Alberta time and 3:01 AM Alberta time the late evening/early morning of December 20th to 21st."
"Is there some significance to that fact?" Inspector Depp asked.
"That was the exact same time frame of the lunar eclipse which this year fell on the Winter Solstice in the northern hemisphere," Dracul replied.
"Hm, that is interesting," Inspector Depp pinched his lip with a couple of his fingers, "anything significant about the number of murders committed? 372?".
"Well," said Dracul, "the last time a lunar eclipse fell on a winter solstice in the northern hemisphere was in the year 1638. Which is exactly 372 years ago."
To be continued.
As this night had been their wedding anniversary they decided to be late night owls in their favourite restaurant.
11:30 PM. Monday December 20th.
They window shopped through some of the store windows as they walked down the street trying to locate a taxi.
"That statue there in the pawn shop window," the wife remarked to her husband, "it's quite ferocious looking. Who is it supposed to be a statue of?".
"The demon Rahu," the man looked at the name tag below the statue.
Just then a figure emerged out of the darkness of night and slit the old man's throat.
The wife screamed.
* * *
In Chicago in a pedriatics unit of a leading hospital, one of the nurses thought she saw a mysterious shadow moving and approaching the room where the new borns were kept.
She immediately ran down the hall.
And opened the door.
Just in time to see the shadow like figure smashing a baby's head against the wall.
She screamed.
* * *
New York City.
The attractive and extremely beautiful blonde was dressed to the nines in a very tight fitting red mini dress, black silk fishnet nylons and black spiked stiletto heels.
She had been partying the night away in a posh nightclub.
She decided to step into a back alley to vomit as she couldn't find her way to the washroom and the door that said EXIT rather than Women's had led her to this place.
She vomited.
All those shooters and cocktails didn't feel quite as good going up as they had going down.
She thought she heard a noise.
She looked up.
All she saw there was shadow.
A shadow that moved.
A shadow that raised the knife.
A shadow that slit her throat.
If she wasn't already dead, she'd have probably screamed at that point.
* * *
Inspector Depp of Scotland Yard was also a member of Interpol and thus received police reports from all over the world.
He was looking at a baffling FBI report he had just received.
A series of 372 brutal and bizarre murders had been committed in the United States of America in just a 3 and a half hour time period.
An elderly gentleman with his throat slashed in downtown Seattle. A new born babe had his head bashed against the wall in a Chicago hospital pedriatics unit.
A young and beautiful twentysomething socialite had her throat slashed in New York City. And the list went on.
Any witnesses to the crimes reported seeing a mysterious and swift moving shadow.
No real human form.
Just a shadow.
Inside the office with Inspector Depp was Inspector Depp's good friend the Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing.
He had handed the report to Dracul.
Dracul noted the times.
He checked his own watch which was always set to Alberta time- the time of the province of his birth.
"You know," Dracul said, "all these murders were all committed between 11:33 PM Alberta time and 3:01 AM Alberta time the late evening/early morning of December 20th to 21st."
"Is there some significance to that fact?" Inspector Depp asked.
"That was the exact same time frame of the lunar eclipse which this year fell on the Winter Solstice in the northern hemisphere," Dracul replied.
"Hm, that is interesting," Inspector Depp pinched his lip with a couple of his fingers, "anything significant about the number of murders committed? 372?".
"Well," said Dracul, "the last time a lunar eclipse fell on a winter solstice in the northern hemisphere was in the year 1638. Which is exactly 372 years ago."
To be continued.
Monday, December 20, 2010
Nicht and Night At The Kremlin
Russian Prime Minister Vladimir Putin was inside the lab of FSB scientist Dr. Nicht Werhoffen (who had been a research scientist for the East German Stasi secret intelligence service until the Fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989).
Dr. Werhoffen had just developed a new genetically modified virus.
This virus was capable when it was injected into a human of entering the bloodstream and then eventually attacking the human brain literally turning the person so infected into a virtual zombie.
"Imagine that, Mr. Prime Minister," Dr. Werhoffen smiled, "turning Mother Russia's enemies into zombies like the plots of so many bad western horror movies."
"This is indeed a major achievement," Prime Minister Putin had to admit.
"So you'd like me to continue working on this project?" Dr. Werhoffen asked.
"By all means," Prime Minister Putin smiled.
The Prime Minister returned to the Kremlin where he once again practiced the song that was making him a superstar sensation on YouTube, "I found my thrill on Blueberry Hill..."
The phone rang.
"Hello," the Prime Minister picked up the receiver.
"Hello," said a sexy, sensuous and sultry voice.
It was the Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec.
"I'm just phoning to wish you a Merry Christmas," Qonzilqointec's voice dripped like honey over the phone.
"Feliz Navidad," Putin said in his most impeccable Spanish.
Qonzilqointec answered back, "Feliz Navidad. Gracias."
Putin then told Her Imperial Highness about the breakthrough of one of his scientists in developing a virus that had the power to turn people into virtual zombies.
"Imagine that," Putin chuckled, "a virus that can turn people into virtual zombies."
"I always knew they'd find a replacement for television someday," Qonzilqointec answered.
To be continued.
Dr. Werhoffen had just developed a new genetically modified virus.
This virus was capable when it was injected into a human of entering the bloodstream and then eventually attacking the human brain literally turning the person so infected into a virtual zombie.
"Imagine that, Mr. Prime Minister," Dr. Werhoffen smiled, "turning Mother Russia's enemies into zombies like the plots of so many bad western horror movies."
"This is indeed a major achievement," Prime Minister Putin had to admit.
"So you'd like me to continue working on this project?" Dr. Werhoffen asked.
"By all means," Prime Minister Putin smiled.
The Prime Minister returned to the Kremlin where he once again practiced the song that was making him a superstar sensation on YouTube, "I found my thrill on Blueberry Hill..."
The phone rang.
"Hello," the Prime Minister picked up the receiver.
"Hello," said a sexy, sensuous and sultry voice.
It was the Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec.
"I'm just phoning to wish you a Merry Christmas," Qonzilqointec's voice dripped like honey over the phone.
"Feliz Navidad," Putin said in his most impeccable Spanish.
Qonzilqointec answered back, "Feliz Navidad. Gracias."
Putin then told Her Imperial Highness about the breakthrough of one of his scientists in developing a virus that had the power to turn people into virtual zombies.
"Imagine that," Putin chuckled, "a virus that can turn people into virtual zombies."
"I always knew they'd find a replacement for television someday," Qonzilqointec answered.
To be continued.
Saturday, December 18, 2010
Murder and Mystery At The Museum
Inspector Depp of Scotland Yard looked at the report in front of him.
A bizarre murder had happened on England's northeast coast.
A well known British archaeologist Cornwall Smith had been murdered.
The man's granddaughter had entered the town museum where he had spent a great deal of time and claimed to have found him in pieces at the curator's desk and on the museum floor.
What she meant by pieces apparently was that his head and arms and feet were lying around scattered all over the place.
She left the museum screaming which totally ruined a BBC TV documentary on peace and quiet and tranquility in small town Britain that was being shot in the village at the time.
When she finally managed to track down the town policeman in the local tea and croissant shop- by the time the pair arrived at the museum- the museum was totally engulfed in flames.
A fire department investigation afterwards revealed that the victim''s computer had suddenly fried causing an electrical fire.
The museum and its contents were totally destroyed.
And the remains of Dr. Cornwall Smith were even far too well done for an experienced cannibal like Dr. Hannibal Lector to enjoy.
To be continued.
A bizarre murder had happened on England's northeast coast.
A well known British archaeologist Cornwall Smith had been murdered.
The man's granddaughter had entered the town museum where he had spent a great deal of time and claimed to have found him in pieces at the curator's desk and on the museum floor.
What she meant by pieces apparently was that his head and arms and feet were lying around scattered all over the place.
She left the museum screaming which totally ruined a BBC TV documentary on peace and quiet and tranquility in small town Britain that was being shot in the village at the time.
When she finally managed to track down the town policeman in the local tea and croissant shop- by the time the pair arrived at the museum- the museum was totally engulfed in flames.
A fire department investigation afterwards revealed that the victim''s computer had suddenly fried causing an electrical fire.
The museum and its contents were totally destroyed.
And the remains of Dr. Cornwall Smith were even far too well done for an experienced cannibal like Dr. Hannibal Lector to enjoy.
To be continued.
Friday, December 17, 2010
The Game's Afoot In Archaeology
He was a retired archaeologist who lived on England's north east coast.
Retired?
Did archaeologists ever truly retire?
Archaeologist seemed to be one profession where its practitioners never truly do retire.
In fact, he was the volunteer curator of the small town museum where he lived.
So, no, archaeologists never truly do retire.
And in fact, he was reading an email from an old colleague of his who lived in Israel.
The man had emailed him photos of marble sandals.
They were sandals belonging to the statue of a woman that had been found in Ashkelon, Israel.
The woman had been found without arms and a head.
But the sandals of the woman were intricately carved.
His colleague pointed out, "I know you always had a foot fetish in your own personal life. So I thought maybe you had some archaeological interest in this matter as well."
The retired archaeologist laughed. He walked over to the museum bookshelf where he kept many of his own personal books.
He reached for one, checked the index, came to a page with a drawing of an ancient Roman statue of a woman, and eagerly sat down where he began to excitedly type a reply to the Israeli archaeologist.
The old man did not notice the medieval swords coming off the wall of the museum by themselves.
One of the swords came over and cut off the man's head just as he wrote, "I believe the statue is of..."
The other sword cut off the man's arms.
A medieval axe rose out of one of the glass cases in the museum and came over and cut off the man's feet and dropped them on the large printed copy photo of the marble sandals.
A young woman then entered the museum.
"Grandpa," she called out, "you're being late for dinner again."
She entered the room.
And screamed.
Grandpa wouldn't be having dinner on this night.
Or ever again.
To be continued.
Retired?
Did archaeologists ever truly retire?
Archaeologist seemed to be one profession where its practitioners never truly do retire.
In fact, he was the volunteer curator of the small town museum where he lived.
So, no, archaeologists never truly do retire.
And in fact, he was reading an email from an old colleague of his who lived in Israel.
The man had emailed him photos of marble sandals.
They were sandals belonging to the statue of a woman that had been found in Ashkelon, Israel.
The woman had been found without arms and a head.
But the sandals of the woman were intricately carved.
His colleague pointed out, "I know you always had a foot fetish in your own personal life. So I thought maybe you had some archaeological interest in this matter as well."
The retired archaeologist laughed. He walked over to the museum bookshelf where he kept many of his own personal books.
He reached for one, checked the index, came to a page with a drawing of an ancient Roman statue of a woman, and eagerly sat down where he began to excitedly type a reply to the Israeli archaeologist.
The old man did not notice the medieval swords coming off the wall of the museum by themselves.
One of the swords came over and cut off the man's head just as he wrote, "I believe the statue is of..."
The other sword cut off the man's arms.
A medieval axe rose out of one of the glass cases in the museum and came over and cut off the man's feet and dropped them on the large printed copy photo of the marble sandals.
A young woman then entered the museum.
"Grandpa," she called out, "you're being late for dinner again."
She entered the room.
And screamed.
Grandpa wouldn't be having dinner on this night.
Or ever again.
To be continued.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Mr. X and The National Security Council
To the other members of the U.S. National Security Council, he was known only by the interesting epithet Mr. X.
Indeed Mr. X was the name referred to him by the other members of the National Security Council including the President.
For in actuality, Mr. X was really and truly the unknown member of the National Security Council.
The press did not know of his existence.
The public did not know of his existence.
Anyone in government outside the U.S. National Security Council did not know of his existence.
This mysterious Mr. X had served on the National Security Council under every President (both Democrat and Republican) since the Administration of President John F. Kennedy took office in January of 1961.
Every President since Kennedy had been forced to name him to the Security Council.
Only each succeeding new President knew why in a Book of Secrets that was passed to every President after he took office (a Book of Secrets that was alluded to in one of the Nicholas Cage National Treasure films).
Indeed Barack Obama got his first gray hair after taking office when he read in the Book of Secrets why Mr. X must continue on the U.S. National Security Council.
Inside Mr. X's office in Washington D.C. only a few blocks from the White House, Mr. X was reading a news item.
What disturbed him was not so much the news item itself but a communique he had read some months earlier.
The news item dealt with a 1,700 year old marble statue of a woman that had been found after a sudden and fierce storm in the eastern Mediterranean had caused part of a cliff to collapse in the southern Israeli port city of Ashkelon.
This news item would not have disturbed him so much if he hadn't read a top secret communique some months earlier.
The communique dealt with the Voynich Manuscript a rare and unusual manuscript located in the Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library of Yale University.
The book was a mysterious one. Allegedly written in code in an unknown language. Some claimed the 13th Century English Franciscan monk Roger Bacon as its author. The book was said to have been bought by the Holy Roman Emperor Rudolf II in the late 16th Century. The 17th Century Jesuit scholar Athanasius Kircher was asked to decipher it by one of the manuscript's later owners but he apparently couldn't.
Anyways the communique from a few months back made the claim that a scholar had finally cracked the code and claimed the book was prophetic.
Well other so-called scholars had made such claims before.
But in this communique, the proof of his having cracked the code would become apparent in a few months time this scholar had wrote "when in December of this year (2010) a huge storm would hit the eastern Mediterranean and a marble statue of a woman with her head and arms missing would be found as a result of a cliff falling in Ashkelon, Israel."
Mr. X had sent messages to the Directors of the FBI, the CIA and Homeland Security ordering that this man must be found at all costs.
He had also written a message to the head of a covert branch of the CIA asking him to investigate whether Wikileaks founder Julian Assange knew about the existence of this communique.
And if he discovered that he did, then Mr. Assange must be immediately terminated, Mr. X had directed.
And by terminated, Mr. X meant in the same manner as Arnold Schwarzenegger as The Terminator had terminated people.
To be continued.
Indeed Mr. X was the name referred to him by the other members of the National Security Council including the President.
For in actuality, Mr. X was really and truly the unknown member of the National Security Council.
The press did not know of his existence.
The public did not know of his existence.
Anyone in government outside the U.S. National Security Council did not know of his existence.
This mysterious Mr. X had served on the National Security Council under every President (both Democrat and Republican) since the Administration of President John F. Kennedy took office in January of 1961.
Every President since Kennedy had been forced to name him to the Security Council.
Only each succeeding new President knew why in a Book of Secrets that was passed to every President after he took office (a Book of Secrets that was alluded to in one of the Nicholas Cage National Treasure films).
Indeed Barack Obama got his first gray hair after taking office when he read in the Book of Secrets why Mr. X must continue on the U.S. National Security Council.
Inside Mr. X's office in Washington D.C. only a few blocks from the White House, Mr. X was reading a news item.
What disturbed him was not so much the news item itself but a communique he had read some months earlier.
The news item dealt with a 1,700 year old marble statue of a woman that had been found after a sudden and fierce storm in the eastern Mediterranean had caused part of a cliff to collapse in the southern Israeli port city of Ashkelon.
This news item would not have disturbed him so much if he hadn't read a top secret communique some months earlier.
The communique dealt with the Voynich Manuscript a rare and unusual manuscript located in the Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library of Yale University.
The book was a mysterious one. Allegedly written in code in an unknown language. Some claimed the 13th Century English Franciscan monk Roger Bacon as its author. The book was said to have been bought by the Holy Roman Emperor Rudolf II in the late 16th Century. The 17th Century Jesuit scholar Athanasius Kircher was asked to decipher it by one of the manuscript's later owners but he apparently couldn't.
Anyways the communique from a few months back made the claim that a scholar had finally cracked the code and claimed the book was prophetic.
Well other so-called scholars had made such claims before.
But in this communique, the proof of his having cracked the code would become apparent in a few months time this scholar had wrote "when in December of this year (2010) a huge storm would hit the eastern Mediterranean and a marble statue of a woman with her head and arms missing would be found as a result of a cliff falling in Ashkelon, Israel."
Mr. X had sent messages to the Directors of the FBI, the CIA and Homeland Security ordering that this man must be found at all costs.
He had also written a message to the head of a covert branch of the CIA asking him to investigate whether Wikileaks founder Julian Assange knew about the existence of this communique.
And if he discovered that he did, then Mr. Assange must be immediately terminated, Mr. X had directed.
And by terminated, Mr. X meant in the same manner as Arnold Schwarzenegger as The Terminator had terminated people.
To be continued.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
The Mysterious Statue
Amadeus Emanon sat quietly eating a peanut butter sandwich and reading a small leather bound copy of Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol.
Renfield R. Renfield who was on the computer cast a glance in Amadeus' direction and noticing what he was reading remarked, "I preferred the pre-Christmas Eve Scrooge to the post-Christmas Eve Scrooge. The pre-Christmas Eve Scrooge is more in line with my thinking."
"I'm not surprised," Amadeus reached for a warm mug of cocoa.
"Yes, this is very interesting," Renfield remarked between mouthfuls of tuna fish sandwich.
"What are you doing?" Amadeus asked.
"Well, the boss," Renfield was referring to their employer the multi-billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set, "has a list of statues from antiquity that he has asked me to be on the look out for."
"Why?" Amadeus looked curious.
"Well apparently many statues in the ancient world had spirits attached to them and so the boss is anxious to know if any of these statues should appear again," Renfield replied.
"Saint Paul once mentioned the same thing in one of his Epistles," Amadeus commented, "that's why Christians were forbidden to sacrifice to idols because such statues often had spirits, usually demons, attached to them."
"I don't think the Boss would be too happy if he heard you quoting Saint Paul," Renfield growled.
"Probably not," Amadeus admitted.
"Anyhow this statue that just washed up in the Israeli port city of Ashkelon," Renfield said, "after a massive storm in the eastern Mediterranean hit a couple of days ago- I have a feeling this statue could be one that's on the Boss' list."
"I don't recall hearing about that find," Amadeus sipped his cocoa.
"Yes," Renfield nodded, "the storm caused a cliff to collapse and a statue from Roman times was exposed and subsequently found by a passer-by. It's a white marble statue of a woman believed to be about 1,700 years old and weighs about 440 pounds and stands nearly 4 feet in height. The statue is missing its head and arms apparently which will make identification for our purposes slightly more difficult. But it does have delicately carved sandals which is interesting for our ID purposes as well. Interesting storm that hit the eastern Mediterranean that day. There were winds of more than 100 kilometres an hour which racked up 40 foot waves."
"And this happened in the Israeli city of Ashkelon you say?" Amadeus finished his cocoa.
"Yes, it's where King Herod had built his port of Caesaria," Renfield helped himself to another slice of bread and more tuna fish, "and it also served as the seat of government for Pontius Pilate when he was governor of Judea."
"So this statue," Amadeus was now even more curious, "who do you believe it to be a statue of? And how does it fit in with the Boss' list of statues and their possessing spirits?".
"That, my friend," Renfield smiled like a Cheshire cat as he bit into his tuna fish sandwich, "I'm not going to tell you."
To be continued.
Renfield R. Renfield who was on the computer cast a glance in Amadeus' direction and noticing what he was reading remarked, "I preferred the pre-Christmas Eve Scrooge to the post-Christmas Eve Scrooge. The pre-Christmas Eve Scrooge is more in line with my thinking."
"I'm not surprised," Amadeus reached for a warm mug of cocoa.
"Yes, this is very interesting," Renfield remarked between mouthfuls of tuna fish sandwich.
"What are you doing?" Amadeus asked.
"Well, the boss," Renfield was referring to their employer the multi-billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set, "has a list of statues from antiquity that he has asked me to be on the look out for."
"Why?" Amadeus looked curious.
"Well apparently many statues in the ancient world had spirits attached to them and so the boss is anxious to know if any of these statues should appear again," Renfield replied.
"Saint Paul once mentioned the same thing in one of his Epistles," Amadeus commented, "that's why Christians were forbidden to sacrifice to idols because such statues often had spirits, usually demons, attached to them."
"I don't think the Boss would be too happy if he heard you quoting Saint Paul," Renfield growled.
"Probably not," Amadeus admitted.
"Anyhow this statue that just washed up in the Israeli port city of Ashkelon," Renfield said, "after a massive storm in the eastern Mediterranean hit a couple of days ago- I have a feeling this statue could be one that's on the Boss' list."
"I don't recall hearing about that find," Amadeus sipped his cocoa.
"Yes," Renfield nodded, "the storm caused a cliff to collapse and a statue from Roman times was exposed and subsequently found by a passer-by. It's a white marble statue of a woman believed to be about 1,700 years old and weighs about 440 pounds and stands nearly 4 feet in height. The statue is missing its head and arms apparently which will make identification for our purposes slightly more difficult. But it does have delicately carved sandals which is interesting for our ID purposes as well. Interesting storm that hit the eastern Mediterranean that day. There were winds of more than 100 kilometres an hour which racked up 40 foot waves."
"And this happened in the Israeli city of Ashkelon you say?" Amadeus finished his cocoa.
"Yes, it's where King Herod had built his port of Caesaria," Renfield helped himself to another slice of bread and more tuna fish, "and it also served as the seat of government for Pontius Pilate when he was governor of Judea."
"So this statue," Amadeus was now even more curious, "who do you believe it to be a statue of? And how does it fit in with the Boss' list of statues and their possessing spirits?".
"That, my friend," Renfield smiled like a Cheshire cat as he bit into his tuna fish sandwich, "I'm not going to tell you."
To be continued.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
The Piano In The Museum
The Piano In The Museum
A short story
written by Christopher Dracul Van Helsing
Saturday, December 11th, 2010
Tom sat at the admission desk at the front of the Museum.
There weren't too many people visiting the Museum today 2 weeks before Christmas Day.
They would be hoarding through stores and shopping malls picking up gifts for the transient present (gifts that for the most part would probably be forgotten or ignored 6 months down the road into the future) rather than looking at relics from the past.
There had been only 4 visitors to the Museum today.
A mother and her 2 children (a boy and a girl).
The boy when he saw an old Underwood antique typewriter asked his mother, "Here's the keyboard. Where's the computer screen?".
The other visitor had been an elderly gentleman.
The mother and her children had only stayed in the Museum 20 minutes.
"I want to go to McDonald's," whined the boy.
"I want to do some more shopping," said the girl.
As there were 2 females in the party and only 1 male, shopping won out as the next part of action for the day.
The man had arrived 3 hours ago and was still poking around the exhibits of the Museum even as Tom looked at the clock and saw that it was just another 20 minutes until closing time.
Tom shut his eyes for a second and momentarily dozed off.
He awoke to the sound of piano playing.
What the?-
Tom couldn't recall any tune on his ipod that consisted solely of piano playing.
There were generally other instruments as well or at least vocals.
Then Tom realized he wasn't wearing the ear phones that went with his ipod.
The piano playing was coming from a corner of the Museum.
Tom got up and walked over to where the music was being played.
It was the old man sitting at the piano playing the keys with the natural talent of a piano virtuoso.
"Oh, sorry," the old man looked at Tom, "I suppose I shouldn't be touching any of the exhibits."
"That's all right," Tom said, "the curator doesn't work Saturdays. It doesn't bother me none. I didn't know this piano could play myself. I never heard it being played before. I just assumed that it was broken. That's why someone donated it to the Museum I figured."
"She still plays beautifully," the old man looked lovingly down at the keys.
"She does," Tom had to admit having heard the piano being played.
"I once played with a live band," said the old man.
"Really?" Tom was impressed, "would I have heard of them?".
"Very much doubt it," the old man shook his head, "it was a local band the Northern Trailblazers."
"Ah, a local band," Tom nodded, "no you certainly wouldn't make much money as a member of a local band."
"We actually made a fair bit of money locally in my day," the old man smiled, "every dance hall and ball room had its own live orchestra playing at night. Every weekend we would play at a different ballroom in town. We sort of made the circuit of the town as it were. It was during the '70s and '80s that DJs replaced the live orchestra. DJs were a lot cheaper to pay than an entire orchestra. But it just wasn't the same and the dance halls and ball rooms shut down. Discos with their DJs maintained the dancing tradition somewhat but by the mid-80s, they too were gone.
And now it looks like in this decade, the DJ's days are numbered as well. To be replaced by long running CDs with their multitudinous list of tunes."
"Yes, I suppose," said Tom, "these days the only place I hear a live orchestra playing during a dance is at a wedding reception."
"I imagine that's the reason a lot of people try to crash weddings," the old man smiled, "free food and free drink no doubt attracts some but I expect for many wedding crashers, it might be the sheer joy of hearing a live orchestra play while you dance. There is just something so exhilarating about dancing to a live orchestra. Something this century has seemed to have lost."
"Yes, I suppose," Tom said.
The old man looked at his watch, "Ah, 2 minutes to 4. Closing time for the museum in another couple of minutes. I suppose you're anxious to get home."
The old man got up, shook Tom's hand and left.
Tom closed up the Museum.
He met his friends at a nearby lounge for a drink.
There was raucous noise and laughter and much banter.
But as Tom sat there, he thought there was something missing.
This place wasn't a place for quiet conversation that's for sure, Tom thought.
Human interaction was indeed going on but amidst the loud music from the CD over the speakers and the rising cacophony of human voices as the voices tried to drown out the music and vice-versa the music seemingly trying to drown out the voices- everything was seemingly building upwards towards an explosive crescendo but a crescendo without a purpose- unlike a Beethoven symphony.
Tom turned to the table to his right where a quartet of young women were sitting.
One of the women was showing her friend the video on the newest and hottest cell phone of the month.
Tom watched as she pulled up images off the Net.
Then there was something that caught the young woman's attention.
It caught Tom's attention too.
It was a dashing young man and a beautiful young woman dancing.
The video was in black and white.
"Wow, that's neat," said the girl.
"It is," said her friend.
Tom had to admit (although he did not do it aloud) that it was indeed... neat.
Cool even.
At home in the old man's apartment, he was watching the old black and white movie on television that the young woman had picked up on her mobile phone.
It was a movie from the early 1940s that starred the dashing young Fred Astaire and the beautiful young Rita Hayworth.
Fred pranced.
Rita danced.
Like an artist painting a picture on the floor were the footsteps that Fred made.
A swish of exquisite fabric on the dress as Rita swayed.
They were dancing to a live orchestra.
The old man smiled.
He closed his eyes.
And heard the music... the beautiful, beautiful music.
Inside the lounge, Tom was getting a headache.
He closed his eyes.
But he was not hearing the music.
The Museum was now still and quiet. Not a sound was to be heard.
In shopping malls now, there was no silence to be heard.
And above the city and its lights, the stars seemed to dance in the sky- that is if one could see them in the winter fog and mist and collection of exhaust from a never ending line of cars.
The ancients believed in the idea of the Celestial Music of the Spheres- that the stars performed their own music as they moved across the sky.
Whether this was true or not- no one listened for that anymore.
Those who listened to the sounds from the skies were listening for radio signals from somewhere out there to indicate that we are not alone in the universe.
As the old man sat alone in his apartment, he did not feel alone.
As the voice of David Bowie sang that old song "Let's dance" on the lounge CD, Tom was starting to feel alone in the crowd for some reason.
Probably Bowie would have felt alone too if he had been sitting in that lounge for no one seemed to be listening to the words...
... "let's dance...."
A short story
written by Christopher Dracul Van Helsing
Saturday, December 11th, 2010
Tom sat at the admission desk at the front of the Museum.
There weren't too many people visiting the Museum today 2 weeks before Christmas Day.
They would be hoarding through stores and shopping malls picking up gifts for the transient present (gifts that for the most part would probably be forgotten or ignored 6 months down the road into the future) rather than looking at relics from the past.
There had been only 4 visitors to the Museum today.
A mother and her 2 children (a boy and a girl).
The boy when he saw an old Underwood antique typewriter asked his mother, "Here's the keyboard. Where's the computer screen?".
The other visitor had been an elderly gentleman.
The mother and her children had only stayed in the Museum 20 minutes.
"I want to go to McDonald's," whined the boy.
"I want to do some more shopping," said the girl.
As there were 2 females in the party and only 1 male, shopping won out as the next part of action for the day.
The man had arrived 3 hours ago and was still poking around the exhibits of the Museum even as Tom looked at the clock and saw that it was just another 20 minutes until closing time.
Tom shut his eyes for a second and momentarily dozed off.
He awoke to the sound of piano playing.
What the?-
Tom couldn't recall any tune on his ipod that consisted solely of piano playing.
There were generally other instruments as well or at least vocals.
Then Tom realized he wasn't wearing the ear phones that went with his ipod.
The piano playing was coming from a corner of the Museum.
Tom got up and walked over to where the music was being played.
It was the old man sitting at the piano playing the keys with the natural talent of a piano virtuoso.
"Oh, sorry," the old man looked at Tom, "I suppose I shouldn't be touching any of the exhibits."
"That's all right," Tom said, "the curator doesn't work Saturdays. It doesn't bother me none. I didn't know this piano could play myself. I never heard it being played before. I just assumed that it was broken. That's why someone donated it to the Museum I figured."
"She still plays beautifully," the old man looked lovingly down at the keys.
"She does," Tom had to admit having heard the piano being played.
"I once played with a live band," said the old man.
"Really?" Tom was impressed, "would I have heard of them?".
"Very much doubt it," the old man shook his head, "it was a local band the Northern Trailblazers."
"Ah, a local band," Tom nodded, "no you certainly wouldn't make much money as a member of a local band."
"We actually made a fair bit of money locally in my day," the old man smiled, "every dance hall and ball room had its own live orchestra playing at night. Every weekend we would play at a different ballroom in town. We sort of made the circuit of the town as it were. It was during the '70s and '80s that DJs replaced the live orchestra. DJs were a lot cheaper to pay than an entire orchestra. But it just wasn't the same and the dance halls and ball rooms shut down. Discos with their DJs maintained the dancing tradition somewhat but by the mid-80s, they too were gone.
And now it looks like in this decade, the DJ's days are numbered as well. To be replaced by long running CDs with their multitudinous list of tunes."
"Yes, I suppose," said Tom, "these days the only place I hear a live orchestra playing during a dance is at a wedding reception."
"I imagine that's the reason a lot of people try to crash weddings," the old man smiled, "free food and free drink no doubt attracts some but I expect for many wedding crashers, it might be the sheer joy of hearing a live orchestra play while you dance. There is just something so exhilarating about dancing to a live orchestra. Something this century has seemed to have lost."
"Yes, I suppose," Tom said.
The old man looked at his watch, "Ah, 2 minutes to 4. Closing time for the museum in another couple of minutes. I suppose you're anxious to get home."
The old man got up, shook Tom's hand and left.
Tom closed up the Museum.
He met his friends at a nearby lounge for a drink.
There was raucous noise and laughter and much banter.
But as Tom sat there, he thought there was something missing.
This place wasn't a place for quiet conversation that's for sure, Tom thought.
Human interaction was indeed going on but amidst the loud music from the CD over the speakers and the rising cacophony of human voices as the voices tried to drown out the music and vice-versa the music seemingly trying to drown out the voices- everything was seemingly building upwards towards an explosive crescendo but a crescendo without a purpose- unlike a Beethoven symphony.
Tom turned to the table to his right where a quartet of young women were sitting.
One of the women was showing her friend the video on the newest and hottest cell phone of the month.
Tom watched as she pulled up images off the Net.
Then there was something that caught the young woman's attention.
It caught Tom's attention too.
It was a dashing young man and a beautiful young woman dancing.
The video was in black and white.
"Wow, that's neat," said the girl.
"It is," said her friend.
Tom had to admit (although he did not do it aloud) that it was indeed... neat.
Cool even.
At home in the old man's apartment, he was watching the old black and white movie on television that the young woman had picked up on her mobile phone.
It was a movie from the early 1940s that starred the dashing young Fred Astaire and the beautiful young Rita Hayworth.
Fred pranced.
Rita danced.
Like an artist painting a picture on the floor were the footsteps that Fred made.
A swish of exquisite fabric on the dress as Rita swayed.
They were dancing to a live orchestra.
The old man smiled.
He closed his eyes.
And heard the music... the beautiful, beautiful music.
Inside the lounge, Tom was getting a headache.
He closed his eyes.
But he was not hearing the music.
The Museum was now still and quiet. Not a sound was to be heard.
In shopping malls now, there was no silence to be heard.
And above the city and its lights, the stars seemed to dance in the sky- that is if one could see them in the winter fog and mist and collection of exhaust from a never ending line of cars.
The ancients believed in the idea of the Celestial Music of the Spheres- that the stars performed their own music as they moved across the sky.
Whether this was true or not- no one listened for that anymore.
Those who listened to the sounds from the skies were listening for radio signals from somewhere out there to indicate that we are not alone in the universe.
As the old man sat alone in his apartment, he did not feel alone.
As the voice of David Bowie sang that old song "Let's dance" on the lounge CD, Tom was starting to feel alone in the crowd for some reason.
Probably Bowie would have felt alone too if he had been sitting in that lounge for no one seemed to be listening to the words...
... "let's dance...."
Friday, December 10, 2010
The Tourist Starring Johnny Depp and Angelina Jolie
This is not so much a formal review of the movie The Tourist as it is my own personal reflections on this film and its two stars Johnny Depp and Angelina Jolie.
Johnny Depp is my favourite contemporary actor and Angelina Jolie is my favourite contemporary actress.
Those of you who know me know that my ultimate dream is to become a motion picture director like my film making idols Orson Welles and Alfred Hitchcock.
I remember back at the first blogging site I was ever at which was called Journalspace- I wrote a blog back in 2007 on how Johnny Depp and Angelina Jolie had not yet appeared together in the same motion picture.
Needless to say the fact that my favourite contemporary actor and favourite contemporary actress had not appeared together in the same movie by that time I found to be a great perplexing mystery.
I remember at the time saying if I ever did become a motion picture director, I would like to be the first to direct Depp and Jolie together in a film.
Well it didn't happen- I didn't get the chance to direct Depp and Jolie in their first motion picture together.
Whether I'll ever become a motion picture director period- only time will tell.
This past week was the first time I ever read the Wikipedia entry on Johnny Depp and was shocked to discover that his first two names were John Christopher because my first two names are John Christopher although he goes by his first name John (which he lengthened to Johnny) and I go by my second name Christopher (which most people shorten to Chris).
I always felt a closeness and a bond to Johnny Depp for some reason. Not in the sense that we're soul mates (because that isn't where my sexual orientation lies) but in the sense that we're soul brothers for lack of a better word.
There's just something about the man and the characters he plays that I can personally relate to most of the time.
It said in the Wikipedia article that Captain Jack Sparrow is Depp's favourite character and the one he most personally relates to.
Which I found interesting if true because Captain Jack Sparrow is my favourite Depp character and the one Depp character I most relate to as well.
Of course Captain Jack Sparrow is more of a fantasy projection of myself because I've not nor have I ever been a pirate in the Caribbean who's commanded a mysterious ghost ship called the Black Pearl.
It's interesting in Depp's latest film The Tourist that he plays a character more like me in reality. He plays a math professor (although when I taught in a community college, I taught Geopolitics and International Relations rather than math) and someone who comes across as nerdy and geeky- a person who enjoys reading spy novels (which I do as well) and whose real life has so far been nothing like he's read.
He happens to encounter a mysterious beautiful woman (played by Angelina Jolie) on a train and it's then that his life changes.
On a personal aside, I've always wanted to encounter a mysterious beautiful woman on a train as well (or anywhere else for that matter!) and have my life take an exciting turn as well.
Depp's character named Frank cannot figure out why this woman named Elise has chosen to sit down with him and then dine with him on a train.
He's even more baffled when he encounters her in Venice and she invites him to spend the night in her hotel room.
Next morning, he's even more baffled when he wakes up to find her gone and men banging on the door and shooting bullets into it.
This really is an excellent film.
It reminds me of the sort of film Alfred Hitchcock would direct if he was living in the 21st Century.
That old cliche about a movie that keeps you on the edge of your seat- well this movie will do that.
It's full of surprising twists and turns this film- and you are literally wondering what will happen next.
For those people who have seen the trailers to this movie-
I have to say- you know how most movie trailers you watch these days- you can pretty well figure out what's going to happen in a movie just by watching the trailer- you don't really have to go see the movie because the trailer pretty well tells you everything you need to know.
Well with that in mind, after watching the trailer for The Tourist I thought I pretty much knew what was going to happen in this movie just by watching the trailer but I wanted to see this film anyway because after all my two contemporary faves- Depp and Jolie were in it.
Anyways after seeing the film in its entirety, I can say that both the movie and the trailer are true masterpieces of genius.
Because the trailer and the way it's made- really does give you the impression of what this film is going to be about.
The way the scenes are put together in the trailer tell you that's the case.
But when you actually do see the movie, everything you thought you had guessed about its contents is actually blown away I'd say at about roughly 7 minutes into the film.
Everything you thought you'd guess from watching the trailer is wrong and the movie is full of completely surprising twists and turns.
I suppose the danger with the trailer is because a person thinks they can guess what this film is about just by watching the trailer and says, "Now I don't have to pay money to see the whole movie" - if a lot of people do that- there's the danger this film won't make money at the box office- because people will think they have guessed what this film is going to be about just by watching the trailer.
And they'll have missed seeing what I believe is the first truly Hitchcockian style film made in the 21st Century.
This film is a masterpiece in my opinion.
I think Hitchcock would have been proud to direct this film- it's that good.
The scenery- Paris, the train, Venice, the classically elegant hotel room where Depp and Jolie stay- such style, class and elegance I thought had died when the grand old espionage and thriller films of the 1930s, '40s and '50s were no more to be made.
And Angelina Jolie's dresses in the film- wow!- that's why I like watching movies of the '40s in particular because they were the best and sexiest and truly feminine women's fashions that came out in film in that decade.
And Jolie's dresses are like that in this movie- sexy and yet so incredibly lady-like at the same time- putting a lie to this modern notion that you have to dress like a slut in order to appear sexy.
And there's actually a grand ball (and a grand ball in Venice at that!) in the movie which particularly enthralled me. Of course that's one reason why I like Jane Austen novels and films based on Austen's books because there's always a good grand ball and dance somewhere.
And the film is like many of Hitchcock's films in that there is also a classic romance developing amid all the thrills and intrigue and espionage.
I give this film 5 stars out of 5 and two thumbs up.
I thought when I wrote that blog entry on the topic back in 2007 that if you put someone of Depp's charisma and someone of Jolie's charisma together in the same film, you'd come out with a masterpiece.
And this is what has happened with The Tourist.
Johnny Depp is my favourite contemporary actor and Angelina Jolie is my favourite contemporary actress.
Those of you who know me know that my ultimate dream is to become a motion picture director like my film making idols Orson Welles and Alfred Hitchcock.
I remember back at the first blogging site I was ever at which was called Journalspace- I wrote a blog back in 2007 on how Johnny Depp and Angelina Jolie had not yet appeared together in the same motion picture.
Needless to say the fact that my favourite contemporary actor and favourite contemporary actress had not appeared together in the same movie by that time I found to be a great perplexing mystery.
I remember at the time saying if I ever did become a motion picture director, I would like to be the first to direct Depp and Jolie together in a film.
Well it didn't happen- I didn't get the chance to direct Depp and Jolie in their first motion picture together.
Whether I'll ever become a motion picture director period- only time will tell.
This past week was the first time I ever read the Wikipedia entry on Johnny Depp and was shocked to discover that his first two names were John Christopher because my first two names are John Christopher although he goes by his first name John (which he lengthened to Johnny) and I go by my second name Christopher (which most people shorten to Chris).
I always felt a closeness and a bond to Johnny Depp for some reason. Not in the sense that we're soul mates (because that isn't where my sexual orientation lies) but in the sense that we're soul brothers for lack of a better word.
There's just something about the man and the characters he plays that I can personally relate to most of the time.
It said in the Wikipedia article that Captain Jack Sparrow is Depp's favourite character and the one he most personally relates to.
Which I found interesting if true because Captain Jack Sparrow is my favourite Depp character and the one Depp character I most relate to as well.
Of course Captain Jack Sparrow is more of a fantasy projection of myself because I've not nor have I ever been a pirate in the Caribbean who's commanded a mysterious ghost ship called the Black Pearl.
It's interesting in Depp's latest film The Tourist that he plays a character more like me in reality. He plays a math professor (although when I taught in a community college, I taught Geopolitics and International Relations rather than math) and someone who comes across as nerdy and geeky- a person who enjoys reading spy novels (which I do as well) and whose real life has so far been nothing like he's read.
He happens to encounter a mysterious beautiful woman (played by Angelina Jolie) on a train and it's then that his life changes.
On a personal aside, I've always wanted to encounter a mysterious beautiful woman on a train as well (or anywhere else for that matter!) and have my life take an exciting turn as well.
Depp's character named Frank cannot figure out why this woman named Elise has chosen to sit down with him and then dine with him on a train.
He's even more baffled when he encounters her in Venice and she invites him to spend the night in her hotel room.
Next morning, he's even more baffled when he wakes up to find her gone and men banging on the door and shooting bullets into it.
This really is an excellent film.
It reminds me of the sort of film Alfred Hitchcock would direct if he was living in the 21st Century.
That old cliche about a movie that keeps you on the edge of your seat- well this movie will do that.
It's full of surprising twists and turns this film- and you are literally wondering what will happen next.
For those people who have seen the trailers to this movie-
I have to say- you know how most movie trailers you watch these days- you can pretty well figure out what's going to happen in a movie just by watching the trailer- you don't really have to go see the movie because the trailer pretty well tells you everything you need to know.
Well with that in mind, after watching the trailer for The Tourist I thought I pretty much knew what was going to happen in this movie just by watching the trailer but I wanted to see this film anyway because after all my two contemporary faves- Depp and Jolie were in it.
Anyways after seeing the film in its entirety, I can say that both the movie and the trailer are true masterpieces of genius.
Because the trailer and the way it's made- really does give you the impression of what this film is going to be about.
The way the scenes are put together in the trailer tell you that's the case.
But when you actually do see the movie, everything you thought you had guessed about its contents is actually blown away I'd say at about roughly 7 minutes into the film.
Everything you thought you'd guess from watching the trailer is wrong and the movie is full of completely surprising twists and turns.
I suppose the danger with the trailer is because a person thinks they can guess what this film is about just by watching the trailer and says, "Now I don't have to pay money to see the whole movie" - if a lot of people do that- there's the danger this film won't make money at the box office- because people will think they have guessed what this film is going to be about just by watching the trailer.
And they'll have missed seeing what I believe is the first truly Hitchcockian style film made in the 21st Century.
This film is a masterpiece in my opinion.
I think Hitchcock would have been proud to direct this film- it's that good.
The scenery- Paris, the train, Venice, the classically elegant hotel room where Depp and Jolie stay- such style, class and elegance I thought had died when the grand old espionage and thriller films of the 1930s, '40s and '50s were no more to be made.
And Angelina Jolie's dresses in the film- wow!- that's why I like watching movies of the '40s in particular because they were the best and sexiest and truly feminine women's fashions that came out in film in that decade.
And Jolie's dresses are like that in this movie- sexy and yet so incredibly lady-like at the same time- putting a lie to this modern notion that you have to dress like a slut in order to appear sexy.
And there's actually a grand ball (and a grand ball in Venice at that!) in the movie which particularly enthralled me. Of course that's one reason why I like Jane Austen novels and films based on Austen's books because there's always a good grand ball and dance somewhere.
And the film is like many of Hitchcock's films in that there is also a classic romance developing amid all the thrills and intrigue and espionage.
I give this film 5 stars out of 5 and two thumbs up.
I thought when I wrote that blog entry on the topic back in 2007 that if you put someone of Depp's charisma and someone of Jolie's charisma together in the same film, you'd come out with a masterpiece.
And this is what has happened with The Tourist.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Renfield The Interrogator
Inspector Depp of Scotland Yard had called in Renfield R. Renfield to do some interrogation work on behalf of the Yard.
Inspector Depp had been told of Renfield's being hired by the CIA a few years ago to interrogate prisoners down at Guantanamo Bay and how impressive he had been.
Down in the lowest cells of the Yard were various anarchist and Marxist youth that police had arrested after the attack on the car carrying Prince Charles and the Duchess of Cornwall.
"If I break these scumbag," Renfield said between mouthfuls of tuna fish sandwich, "does that mean I'll get invited to Prince William's and Kate Middleton's wedding?".
"We'll see what can be arranged," Inspector Depp smiled.
Inspector Depp opened a door and ushered in Renfield.
In the room were a bunch of snarly looking youth in arm and leg chains.
"9000 pounds a year is way too much for university tuition," a youth muttered.
It was the David Cameron government's tripling of university tuition fees that had ostensibly led this medley of youth to become revolting.
Renfield went over to the youth who had spoken, pulled a gun out from under his coat and shot the youth's head off.
"I don't think a mere kindergarden graduate like yourself would have been able to get into University anyways," Renfield said after he kicked the youth's head under a nearby table.
"Now as for the rest of you," Renfield grinned, "there are two things I want you to know... first, I've never been a signatory to the Geneva Convention on Human Rights..."
Renfield went around the room and kicked each of the youths in the balls.
"And second," Renfield continued to grin, "I'm just getting started..."
* * *
As Renfield got into his second hour of interrogation which consisted of finger snipping with pliers and foot amputations with axes and eyeball gougings with scissors, Renfield looked up and noticed Inspector Depp standing at the window with another man.
The man looked vaguely familiar.
Possibly he was a senior Scotland Yard Commissioner who had been invited to look in on the proceedings.
* * *
Inspector Depp took the man with him down to his office.
He opened the door and invited the man to take a seat.
"Now then, Mr. Assange," Inspector Depp addressed the Wikileaks founder, "you can either agree to answer my questions and fully co-operate with me or you can go down to the other room and answer questions posed to you by Mr. Renfield."
To be continued.
Inspector Depp had been told of Renfield's being hired by the CIA a few years ago to interrogate prisoners down at Guantanamo Bay and how impressive he had been.
Down in the lowest cells of the Yard were various anarchist and Marxist youth that police had arrested after the attack on the car carrying Prince Charles and the Duchess of Cornwall.
"If I break these scumbag," Renfield said between mouthfuls of tuna fish sandwich, "does that mean I'll get invited to Prince William's and Kate Middleton's wedding?".
"We'll see what can be arranged," Inspector Depp smiled.
Inspector Depp opened a door and ushered in Renfield.
In the room were a bunch of snarly looking youth in arm and leg chains.
"9000 pounds a year is way too much for university tuition," a youth muttered.
It was the David Cameron government's tripling of university tuition fees that had ostensibly led this medley of youth to become revolting.
Renfield went over to the youth who had spoken, pulled a gun out from under his coat and shot the youth's head off.
"I don't think a mere kindergarden graduate like yourself would have been able to get into University anyways," Renfield said after he kicked the youth's head under a nearby table.
"Now as for the rest of you," Renfield grinned, "there are two things I want you to know... first, I've never been a signatory to the Geneva Convention on Human Rights..."
Renfield went around the room and kicked each of the youths in the balls.
"And second," Renfield continued to grin, "I'm just getting started..."
* * *
As Renfield got into his second hour of interrogation which consisted of finger snipping with pliers and foot amputations with axes and eyeball gougings with scissors, Renfield looked up and noticed Inspector Depp standing at the window with another man.
The man looked vaguely familiar.
Possibly he was a senior Scotland Yard Commissioner who had been invited to look in on the proceedings.
* * *
Inspector Depp took the man with him down to his office.
He opened the door and invited the man to take a seat.
"Now then, Mr. Assange," Inspector Depp addressed the Wikileaks founder, "you can either agree to answer my questions and fully co-operate with me or you can go down to the other room and answer questions posed to you by Mr. Renfield."
To be continued.
Monday, December 6, 2010
The Feast Day of Saint Nicholas
Amadeus Emanon walked through the streets of London.
He happened to notice the little Church named Saint Nicholas.
He recalled watching on the BBC News this morning how today was the Feast Day of Saint Nicholas.
And how Saint Nicholas the Bishop of Myra (in what is now modern-day Turkey) had lived from 270-346 AD.
Because many miracles were performed at his intercession, the saint became known as Nikolaos the Wonderworker.
Amadeus entered the Church and quietly sat at the back and looked around.
He noticed on the right hand side of the Lady Chapel of the Church- a small enclave of votive candles in front of a picture.
He got up and quietly walked towards the picture.
He stood in front of it.
It was an intricately painted icon of Saint Nicholas.
Amadeus knelt before the icon and lit a candle.
He said a silent prayer.
And as he did so, it seemed like a distinct scent of frankincense came from the icon.
He then stood, bowed before the icon and quietly left the Church.
Amadeus noticed the sun had now gone down.
A car pulled up beside him and honked its horn.
It was the Rolls-Royce limousine for the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set.
Renfield rolled down the back window and told Amadeus to get into the car.
Amadeus did so.
In the back seat sat both Renfield R. Renfield and the Vampire Set.
As soon as Amadeus got in, Set shouted, "Great Ra, what is that awful smell?".
Set quickly opened the door and fled the limousine.
"I can't stand it either," Renfield followed the Egyptian vampire out the door.
"Home I guess, James," Amadeus directed the human chauffeur.
"Very good, sir," James continued to drive the car, "are you aware, sir, that you have an air of frankincense about you?".
"No, I wasn't," Amadeus replied in all honesty, "I wonder where I got that from?".
And into the night the limousine drove through the streets of London past many Santa Clauses on street corners.
They didn't look much like the original Saint Nicholas Bishop of Myra.
And then again they didn't carry the smell of frankincense on them either.
To be continued.
He happened to notice the little Church named Saint Nicholas.
He recalled watching on the BBC News this morning how today was the Feast Day of Saint Nicholas.
And how Saint Nicholas the Bishop of Myra (in what is now modern-day Turkey) had lived from 270-346 AD.
Because many miracles were performed at his intercession, the saint became known as Nikolaos the Wonderworker.
Amadeus entered the Church and quietly sat at the back and looked around.
He noticed on the right hand side of the Lady Chapel of the Church- a small enclave of votive candles in front of a picture.
He got up and quietly walked towards the picture.
He stood in front of it.
It was an intricately painted icon of Saint Nicholas.
Amadeus knelt before the icon and lit a candle.
He said a silent prayer.
And as he did so, it seemed like a distinct scent of frankincense came from the icon.
He then stood, bowed before the icon and quietly left the Church.
Amadeus noticed the sun had now gone down.
A car pulled up beside him and honked its horn.
It was the Rolls-Royce limousine for the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set.
Renfield rolled down the back window and told Amadeus to get into the car.
Amadeus did so.
In the back seat sat both Renfield R. Renfield and the Vampire Set.
As soon as Amadeus got in, Set shouted, "Great Ra, what is that awful smell?".
Set quickly opened the door and fled the limousine.
"I can't stand it either," Renfield followed the Egyptian vampire out the door.
"Home I guess, James," Amadeus directed the human chauffeur.
"Very good, sir," James continued to drive the car, "are you aware, sir, that you have an air of frankincense about you?".
"No, I wasn't," Amadeus replied in all honesty, "I wonder where I got that from?".
And into the night the limousine drove through the streets of London past many Santa Clauses on street corners.
They didn't look much like the original Saint Nicholas Bishop of Myra.
And then again they didn't carry the smell of frankincense on them either.
To be continued.
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Krakens and Dragons and Renfield and Isis
Russian Prime Minister Vladimir Putin looked at the photograph of the strange and gargantuantly huge creature on the desk before him.
"And this..." Putin paused, "this thing was spotted by one of our submarines going through the Baltic Sea?".
"Yes, Mr. Prime Minister," his aide replied.
"It reminds me very much of drawings and paintings I've seen of that famous creature from mythology the Kraken," Putin said.
"Indeed, Mr. Prime Minister," his aide nodded.
* * *
The Israeli plane poured water on the huge forest fire burning out of control near Israel's Mount Carmel.
As the plane veered to the right, the pilot noticed something moving on the ground.
He flew in to take a closer look.
There to his astonishment looked to be creature that resembled pictures he had seen of medieval dragons.
He suddenly noticed the dragon opening up its huge mouth.
And as it did so...
... it breathed fire.
Adding to the already heavily burning fire in the forest near Mount Carmel.
* * *
"So," Amadeus Emanon dipped one of the prawns into the dish of hot salsa sauce, "I was thinking about your speech to the British House of Commons/House of Lords Select Committee on Defense and Intelligence the other day. How long do you think it will be before Super Soldiers are created through the use of genetics, robotics, artificial intelligence and nanotechnology?".
"I believe it's already starting to happen," Renfield said while hacking into various computer systems throughout the world.
* * *
The creature in the hotel room noticed the figure on the bed.
It approached...
... and as it was about to make its lunge...
... the figure on the bed drew out a pistol from under the blanket and fired a silver bullet.
The creature whimpered.
And then died.
And then the wolf turned into a man.
A man wearing an old Nazi SS uniform.
"So," a woman in a red dress flew in through the window, "I didn't think a Nazi werewolf stood a chance against the great Dracul Van Helsing. So I didn't intervene to stop him."
"How are things going, my fair Isis?" Dracul Van Helsing asked the strikingly beautiful Egyptian vampiress.
"I need something from my brother and brother-in-law Set," Isis answered, "and I was wondering if you could get it for me."
To be continued.
"And this..." Putin paused, "this thing was spotted by one of our submarines going through the Baltic Sea?".
"Yes, Mr. Prime Minister," his aide replied.
"It reminds me very much of drawings and paintings I've seen of that famous creature from mythology the Kraken," Putin said.
"Indeed, Mr. Prime Minister," his aide nodded.
* * *
The Israeli plane poured water on the huge forest fire burning out of control near Israel's Mount Carmel.
As the plane veered to the right, the pilot noticed something moving on the ground.
He flew in to take a closer look.
There to his astonishment looked to be creature that resembled pictures he had seen of medieval dragons.
He suddenly noticed the dragon opening up its huge mouth.
And as it did so...
... it breathed fire.
Adding to the already heavily burning fire in the forest near Mount Carmel.
* * *
"So," Amadeus Emanon dipped one of the prawns into the dish of hot salsa sauce, "I was thinking about your speech to the British House of Commons/House of Lords Select Committee on Defense and Intelligence the other day. How long do you think it will be before Super Soldiers are created through the use of genetics, robotics, artificial intelligence and nanotechnology?".
"I believe it's already starting to happen," Renfield said while hacking into various computer systems throughout the world.
* * *
The creature in the hotel room noticed the figure on the bed.
It approached...
... and as it was about to make its lunge...
... the figure on the bed drew out a pistol from under the blanket and fired a silver bullet.
The creature whimpered.
And then died.
And then the wolf turned into a man.
A man wearing an old Nazi SS uniform.
"So," a woman in a red dress flew in through the window, "I didn't think a Nazi werewolf stood a chance against the great Dracul Van Helsing. So I didn't intervene to stop him."
"How are things going, my fair Isis?" Dracul Van Helsing asked the strikingly beautiful Egyptian vampiress.
"I need something from my brother and brother-in-law Set," Isis answered, "and I was wondering if you could get it for me."
To be continued.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Celebrating Reason
The Harvard philosophy professor visiting New York City reflected on the controversial billboard that he had seen saying "You KNOW it's a Myth. This season, celebrate REASON."
The Harvard philosopher recalled how an earlier generation of atheists once celebrated Reason.
Back on November 10th 1793 in Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris, France during the French Revolutionary Reign of Terror, a group of French atheistic revolutionaries had held a Fete de la Raison (Festival of Reason) in which a French prostitute was dressed up as the Goddess of Reason and lay on the High Altar in the Cathedral.
He wouldn't mind celebrating Reason in such a fashion with a prostitute on the High Altar of Saint Patrick's Cathedral in New York City.
That is if he could find a prostitute that would be truly worth banging.
One who was a total knock out.
It was then that he saw the super sexy and incredibly beautiful redhead standing there in the white sweater, short black leather micro mini skirt, black silk fishnet nylon stockings and spiked stiletto black leather boots.
The woman seemed to glow like a neon light in the falling snow of New York City.
"How much?" the Harvard philosopher asked as he approached her.
"What did you have in mind?" she asked in a sultry voice.
He told her.
She laughed, "Well, why not a little re-enactment of French history?".
She took a cell phone out from under her belt.
"I have to call my..." she didn't finish the sentence.
"Pimp?" the Harvard philosopher interrupted.
She laughed, "That's a good name for him."
She read the reply that said, "Go 4 it."
They walked into Saint Patrick's Cathedral and the Harvard professor acting like a Christopher Hitchens on steroids knocked the crucifix and the candle stands off the altar.
He threw the short skirted redhead on top of the altar and after shouting, "In the Name of Reason, Amen" tore off her skirt and ripped through her pantyhose and then penetrated her...
Within seconds, he was screaming as the intricately designed mousetrap in her vagina closed tightly on his penis.
* * *
"This is startling imagery coming off the Cyborg Sophia's camera," Amadeus Emanon said with his usual tone of classic understatement as he looked at the computer screen.
Renfield R. Renfield was laughing his head off.
"But I thought the intended victim was to be a leading New York politician," Amadeus looked quizzical.
"It was," Renfield continued to laugh, "but when Sophia text messaged me what this guy had in mind- banging her on the High Altar of Saint Patrick's Cathedral- me with my great sense of fun gave the go ahead. I thought the testing of my new mousetrap on the High Altar of Saint Patrick's just gave a certain ambience to everything."
"Who was this poor snook?" Amadeus asked.
"I believe some atheistic professor of philosophy at Harvard," Renfield answered.
"But you're an atheist yourself," Amadeus pointed out.
"But I'm also an artist and entertainer seeking to push new boundaries," Renfield continued to roar with laughter.
* * *
"To boldly go where no man has gone before," the voice of Captain James T. Kirk intoned on the TV set belonging to the patient in the hospital room next to the Harvard philosophy professor.
"Sometimes that's not always a good thing," the professor groaned in a very high-pitched whisper.
To be continued.
The Harvard philosopher recalled how an earlier generation of atheists once celebrated Reason.
Back on November 10th 1793 in Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris, France during the French Revolutionary Reign of Terror, a group of French atheistic revolutionaries had held a Fete de la Raison (Festival of Reason) in which a French prostitute was dressed up as the Goddess of Reason and lay on the High Altar in the Cathedral.
He wouldn't mind celebrating Reason in such a fashion with a prostitute on the High Altar of Saint Patrick's Cathedral in New York City.
That is if he could find a prostitute that would be truly worth banging.
One who was a total knock out.
It was then that he saw the super sexy and incredibly beautiful redhead standing there in the white sweater, short black leather micro mini skirt, black silk fishnet nylon stockings and spiked stiletto black leather boots.
The woman seemed to glow like a neon light in the falling snow of New York City.
"How much?" the Harvard philosopher asked as he approached her.
"What did you have in mind?" she asked in a sultry voice.
He told her.
She laughed, "Well, why not a little re-enactment of French history?".
She took a cell phone out from under her belt.
"I have to call my..." she didn't finish the sentence.
"Pimp?" the Harvard philosopher interrupted.
She laughed, "That's a good name for him."
She read the reply that said, "Go 4 it."
They walked into Saint Patrick's Cathedral and the Harvard professor acting like a Christopher Hitchens on steroids knocked the crucifix and the candle stands off the altar.
He threw the short skirted redhead on top of the altar and after shouting, "In the Name of Reason, Amen" tore off her skirt and ripped through her pantyhose and then penetrated her...
Within seconds, he was screaming as the intricately designed mousetrap in her vagina closed tightly on his penis.
* * *
"This is startling imagery coming off the Cyborg Sophia's camera," Amadeus Emanon said with his usual tone of classic understatement as he looked at the computer screen.
Renfield R. Renfield was laughing his head off.
"But I thought the intended victim was to be a leading New York politician," Amadeus looked quizzical.
"It was," Renfield continued to laugh, "but when Sophia text messaged me what this guy had in mind- banging her on the High Altar of Saint Patrick's Cathedral- me with my great sense of fun gave the go ahead. I thought the testing of my new mousetrap on the High Altar of Saint Patrick's just gave a certain ambience to everything."
"Who was this poor snook?" Amadeus asked.
"I believe some atheistic professor of philosophy at Harvard," Renfield answered.
"But you're an atheist yourself," Amadeus pointed out.
"But I'm also an artist and entertainer seeking to push new boundaries," Renfield continued to roar with laughter.
* * *
"To boldly go where no man has gone before," the voice of Captain James T. Kirk intoned on the TV set belonging to the patient in the hospital room next to the Harvard philosophy professor.
"Sometimes that's not always a good thing," the professor groaned in a very high-pitched whisper.
To be continued.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Of Qonzilqointec and Super Soldiers
The Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec was attending a cocktail party in New York City in an exclusive Fifth Avenue penthouse.
She wore a green velvety evening dress and a diamond necklace.
She briefly glanced at her cell phone where she had received a text message from Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez.
She typed the words DO IT NOW in reply.
She glanced across the room and noticed the former Apollo astronaut who seemed to be the center of attention in a little group of admirers gathered around him.
They seemed to hover on his every word as he described what it was like to walk on the Moon and to view Planet Earth from the Moon.
He was then asked whether he had ever seen any aliens while he was up there.
Princess Qonzilqointec walked half-way across the room in his direction and then just stood there looking at him.
The former Apollo astronaut gazed in her direction and then without stopping to answer the question about aliens walked over to her.
They went off together to a quiet little corner of the penthouse where they talked together in very hushed tones.
* * *
Meanwhile in a quiet room on the upper floors of the Westminster Parliament in the shadow of Big Ben, a powerful but little known Parliamentary Committee was meeting.
The committee was a joint House of Commons/House of Lords Select Committee on Intelligence and Defense.
Addressing the committee was none other than Renfield R. Renfield the Chief of Security and Intelligence and Espionage for the multi-billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set.
"So," Renfield continued his briefing, "we need to understand that DARPA (Defense Advanced Research Project Agency) in the United States of America and similar organizations throughout other industrialized nations are beginning a new arms race- the race to create the Super Soldier. This Super Soldier will be a "Human 2.0" to express it in terms of modern computer speak. What is referred to in Research and Development circles as GRIN (Genetics, Robotics, (artificial) Intelligence and Nano-Technology) will be used to create the perfect super human.
This Super Human soldier army of the future will have the following characteristics- hive mentality, superhuman strength, unbelievable agility and unsurpassed accelerated healing abilities."
"Good God," said Lord Tweedsmuir the House of Lords co-chairman of the committee, "this sounds like James Cameron's sci-fi TV series Dark Angel has come to pass."
Renfield nodded, "James Cameron is indeed a prophet. And those nations that do not get aboard the GRIN bandwagon to create a Super Soldier will find themselves going down like the Titanic."
"And," added Amadeus Emanon who had been brought along to serve as Renfield's secretary, "if one of these super soldiers with accelerated healing abilities gets shot, he'll be able to sing along with Celine Dion... My heart will go on and on..."
To be continued.
She wore a green velvety evening dress and a diamond necklace.
She briefly glanced at her cell phone where she had received a text message from Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez.
She typed the words DO IT NOW in reply.
She glanced across the room and noticed the former Apollo astronaut who seemed to be the center of attention in a little group of admirers gathered around him.
They seemed to hover on his every word as he described what it was like to walk on the Moon and to view Planet Earth from the Moon.
He was then asked whether he had ever seen any aliens while he was up there.
Princess Qonzilqointec walked half-way across the room in his direction and then just stood there looking at him.
The former Apollo astronaut gazed in her direction and then without stopping to answer the question about aliens walked over to her.
They went off together to a quiet little corner of the penthouse where they talked together in very hushed tones.
* * *
Meanwhile in a quiet room on the upper floors of the Westminster Parliament in the shadow of Big Ben, a powerful but little known Parliamentary Committee was meeting.
The committee was a joint House of Commons/House of Lords Select Committee on Intelligence and Defense.
Addressing the committee was none other than Renfield R. Renfield the Chief of Security and Intelligence and Espionage for the multi-billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set.
"So," Renfield continued his briefing, "we need to understand that DARPA (Defense Advanced Research Project Agency) in the United States of America and similar organizations throughout other industrialized nations are beginning a new arms race- the race to create the Super Soldier. This Super Soldier will be a "Human 2.0" to express it in terms of modern computer speak. What is referred to in Research and Development circles as GRIN (Genetics, Robotics, (artificial) Intelligence and Nano-Technology) will be used to create the perfect super human.
This Super Human soldier army of the future will have the following characteristics- hive mentality, superhuman strength, unbelievable agility and unsurpassed accelerated healing abilities."
"Good God," said Lord Tweedsmuir the House of Lords co-chairman of the committee, "this sounds like James Cameron's sci-fi TV series Dark Angel has come to pass."
Renfield nodded, "James Cameron is indeed a prophet. And those nations that do not get aboard the GRIN bandwagon to create a Super Soldier will find themselves going down like the Titanic."
"And," added Amadeus Emanon who had been brought along to serve as Renfield's secretary, "if one of these super soldiers with accelerated healing abilities gets shot, he'll be able to sing along with Celine Dion... My heart will go on and on..."
To be continued.
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