After several days of creating murder and mayhem throughout the City of London following his awakening from a 2 month coma, Renfield R. Renfield was feeling tired so he fell asleep on the couch in the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set's living room.
In the Set Laboratories lab, Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster who had spent the day listening to some of Anthony Robbins' New Age motivational discs on how to get in touch with one's higher power, the lobster intuitively deduced that Renfield had just fallen asleep.
Michelangelo decided to have some fun and enter Renfield's dreams again just like he had when the shapeshifter hamster/human was in a coma.
In the dream, Michelangelo created the figure of a very short and very small Mexican pinata.
The pinata itself was shaped like a multicoloured camel without a hump (a similar camel without a hump but minus the multicolours had earlier been genetically engineered by Set Enterprises' resident mad scientist Dr. Cadbury Rocher a few weeks ago who was oblivious to the fact that such a camel already existed in southern Tanzania).
The short pinata was lamenting on the state of his sad and short life by singing a song which was sung to the tune of Lady Gaga's song Judas,
I'm just a short pinata you can hit with a banana
For me, fiesta is siesta permanent-ly! permanent-ly!
I'm just a short pinata you can hit with a banana
For me, fiesta is siesta permanent-ly! permanent-ly!
When they come to me, I am ready
They'll bash me with a big stick if they need
candies and treats which they feel they've got to eat
Even if they break my head or feet.
They'll bring me down, bring me down down
A pinata with a frown, frown.
I'm just a short pinata you can hit with a banana
For me, fiesta is siesta permanent-ly! permanent-ly!
I'm just a short pinata you can hit with a banana
For me, fiesta is siesta permanent-ly! permanent-ly!
By this time, Renfield R. Renfield was getting sick of the short pinata's song and especially his singing so swiping a banana from a nearby organ grinder's pet monkey, he went over to the pinata and hit it with the banana bringing it down...
down.
As the dead pinata went to its eternal sleep (for it, fiesta was siesta permanently) and spilled its guts all over the place, Amadeus Emanon rushed in to pick up all the candies that had fallen from the dead pinata's insides.
The movie character Forrest Gump (played by Tom Hanks) walked in at the end of the dream and said, "Death is like a pinata of candies. You never know what you're going to get."
To be continued.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
The Midnight Wax Museum
This wax museum only opens at Midnight
Hope that doesn't give you a fright
for you see the wax figures are real
whose skin he did peel
and covered with wax
plus value added tax
for the Revenue Service must get their pound of flesh
and here in the Wax Museum it's very fresh.
The screams from here will keep you awake
but the freshly amputated limbs
are great with Shake N' Bake
for the owner lets nothing go to waste
if not used for wax, then for good taste
for a culinary cannibal chef is he
try roasted ankle or knee
it's very delectable
wouldn't you agree?
-A poem written by Dracul Van Helsing
Wednesday evening June 29th 2011
Hope that doesn't give you a fright
for you see the wax figures are real
whose skin he did peel
and covered with wax
plus value added tax
for the Revenue Service must get their pound of flesh
and here in the Wax Museum it's very fresh.
The screams from here will keep you awake
but the freshly amputated limbs
are great with Shake N' Bake
for the owner lets nothing go to waste
if not used for wax, then for good taste
for a culinary cannibal chef is he
try roasted ankle or knee
it's very delectable
wouldn't you agree?
-A poem written by Dracul Van Helsing
Wednesday evening June 29th 2011
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Masonry and The Coming Age of Osiris
Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing entered the London fish and chips shop and noticed Amadeus Emanon the personal concert pianist to the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set sitting at a table.
Dracul joined him, "So Amadeus, I hear your fellow employee and colleague Renfield R. Renfield finally awakened from his nearly 2-month long coma?".
"Yes," Amadeus nodded, "and the house has felt like a train wreck ever since."
"Renfield does seem to bring chaos and havoc with him wherever he goes," Dracul agreed.
"My boss Set often says, "Ordo ab chao," Amadeus admitted, "so maybe that's why the boss keeps Renfield around."
"Ordo ab chao- order out of chaos," Dracul smiled, "that's one instance where your boss agrees with his rival brother and brother-in-law Osiris."
"It is?" Amadeus looked quizzical, "I didn't know that."
"Yes, in fact that's one of the Masonic mottoes Ordo ab chao," Dracul said.
"The Masons do seem to be obsessed with Osiris for some reason," Amadeus ate his battered cod, "a fact that pisses my boss off."
"Yes, I just read a blog comment this morning by some sutra loving idiot who had his panties in a knot because he was outraged that Pope Benedict XVI as Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger had issued a document condemning Freemasonry back in 1983 and the sutra loving idiot was whining that this condemned America's Founding Fathers- most of whom were Masons- as a bad thing," Dracul smiled, "although as a Canadian whose country was founded by United Empire Loyalists, I don't see why condemning the rebels against the Crown was a bad thing."
"Why would Ratzinger condemn Masonry?" Amadeus asked.
"Because the Great Architect of the Universe (G.A.O.T.O.U.) whom Masons worship is Lucifer, a fact admitted by Scottish Rite Masonry's highest authority Albert Pike in his book Morals and Dogma (a copy of which I own) and also admitted by Masonic historian Albert MacKey and likewise admitted by Masonic historian and philosopher Manly P. Hall," Dracul replied.
"They worship the Devil?" Amadeus was astounded.
"Yes, they do," Dracul said, "although they don't think Lucifer is the Devil. They think the Judeo-Christian god YHWH is the Devil. Or more specifically, they're pantheists. They see God as the Universal Force with Lucifer being the Light side of the Force while YHWH is the Dark side of the Force."
"Sort of like George Lucas' Star Wars," Amadeus noted.
"Yes, the pantheism of Masonry is actually very similar to the theology of the Force in the Lucas films," Dracul said, "and they think that Osiris is the most sublime manifestation of Luciferian light in history."
"Really?" Amadeus was astounded.
"Yes, they think that Osiris was actually the one who built the Temple of Solomon for Solomon," said Dracul, "although they call him Hiram Abiff in Masonic folklore and legend rather than Osiris. Which is why Masons want to see the Temple of Solomon rebuilt on the Temple Mount. And not a revamped 2nd Temple either. They want an exact replica of the 1st Temple- Solomon's Temple. It must be Solomon's Temple all over again."
"Yes, the Masons seem to be obsessed with Solomon for some reason as well," Amadeus scratched his chin.
"That's because Solomon under the influence of his many foreign-born wives and concubines allowed ceremonies and rites to strange foreign gods to be said in the Temple of YHWH the god of his father David," Dracul explained, "so in that way Solomon acted as history's first ecumenist. The first interfaith and inter-religion dialogue guy. In its day, the Temple of Solomon under Solomon's rule and reign acted like the New York City Episcopal Cathedral of Saint John the Divine of its day- worshipped all manner and all sorts of gods."
"And this would appeal to Masons?" Amadeus asked.
"Yes, because upper level Freemasons believe that all religions are true," explained Dracul, "or rather all religions are just pale shadows of the one true religion which they say is Masonry. The one true god is Lucifer the light side of the Universal God Force. And Osiris the purest manifestation of Luciferic light."
"Don't some Masons believe that Osiris will return in 2012?" Amadeus queried.
"That was a prophecy made by the Worshipful Master of George Washington's own personal Masonic lodge back in the 1780s," said Dracul, "and may explain the current fixation with the year 2012. That and the fact the Mayans ended their long calendar on the Gregorian calendar equivalent day of December 21st, 2012."
To be continued.
Dracul joined him, "So Amadeus, I hear your fellow employee and colleague Renfield R. Renfield finally awakened from his nearly 2-month long coma?".
"Yes," Amadeus nodded, "and the house has felt like a train wreck ever since."
"Renfield does seem to bring chaos and havoc with him wherever he goes," Dracul agreed.
"My boss Set often says, "Ordo ab chao," Amadeus admitted, "so maybe that's why the boss keeps Renfield around."
"Ordo ab chao- order out of chaos," Dracul smiled, "that's one instance where your boss agrees with his rival brother and brother-in-law Osiris."
"It is?" Amadeus looked quizzical, "I didn't know that."
"Yes, in fact that's one of the Masonic mottoes Ordo ab chao," Dracul said.
"The Masons do seem to be obsessed with Osiris for some reason," Amadeus ate his battered cod, "a fact that pisses my boss off."
"Yes, I just read a blog comment this morning by some sutra loving idiot who had his panties in a knot because he was outraged that Pope Benedict XVI as Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger had issued a document condemning Freemasonry back in 1983 and the sutra loving idiot was whining that this condemned America's Founding Fathers- most of whom were Masons- as a bad thing," Dracul smiled, "although as a Canadian whose country was founded by United Empire Loyalists, I don't see why condemning the rebels against the Crown was a bad thing."
"Why would Ratzinger condemn Masonry?" Amadeus asked.
"Because the Great Architect of the Universe (G.A.O.T.O.U.) whom Masons worship is Lucifer, a fact admitted by Scottish Rite Masonry's highest authority Albert Pike in his book Morals and Dogma (a copy of which I own) and also admitted by Masonic historian Albert MacKey and likewise admitted by Masonic historian and philosopher Manly P. Hall," Dracul replied.
"They worship the Devil?" Amadeus was astounded.
"Yes, they do," Dracul said, "although they don't think Lucifer is the Devil. They think the Judeo-Christian god YHWH is the Devil. Or more specifically, they're pantheists. They see God as the Universal Force with Lucifer being the Light side of the Force while YHWH is the Dark side of the Force."
"Sort of like George Lucas' Star Wars," Amadeus noted.
"Yes, the pantheism of Masonry is actually very similar to the theology of the Force in the Lucas films," Dracul said, "and they think that Osiris is the most sublime manifestation of Luciferian light in history."
"Really?" Amadeus was astounded.
"Yes, they think that Osiris was actually the one who built the Temple of Solomon for Solomon," said Dracul, "although they call him Hiram Abiff in Masonic folklore and legend rather than Osiris. Which is why Masons want to see the Temple of Solomon rebuilt on the Temple Mount. And not a revamped 2nd Temple either. They want an exact replica of the 1st Temple- Solomon's Temple. It must be Solomon's Temple all over again."
"Yes, the Masons seem to be obsessed with Solomon for some reason as well," Amadeus scratched his chin.
"That's because Solomon under the influence of his many foreign-born wives and concubines allowed ceremonies and rites to strange foreign gods to be said in the Temple of YHWH the god of his father David," Dracul explained, "so in that way Solomon acted as history's first ecumenist. The first interfaith and inter-religion dialogue guy. In its day, the Temple of Solomon under Solomon's rule and reign acted like the New York City Episcopal Cathedral of Saint John the Divine of its day- worshipped all manner and all sorts of gods."
"And this would appeal to Masons?" Amadeus asked.
"Yes, because upper level Freemasons believe that all religions are true," explained Dracul, "or rather all religions are just pale shadows of the one true religion which they say is Masonry. The one true god is Lucifer the light side of the Universal God Force. And Osiris the purest manifestation of Luciferic light."
"Don't some Masons believe that Osiris will return in 2012?" Amadeus queried.
"That was a prophecy made by the Worshipful Master of George Washington's own personal Masonic lodge back in the 1780s," said Dracul, "and may explain the current fixation with the year 2012. That and the fact the Mayans ended their long calendar on the Gregorian calendar equivalent day of December 21st, 2012."
To be continued.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Jack O' Hare On Saint John's Eve
It's Saint John's Eve
said the frog called Steve
The Eve of Saint John the Baptist
and I've got the results of my lab test
I'm allergic to flies
so in Japan no fries
so no Twitter photos from Anthony Weiner
or they'll be using formaldehyde for my cleaner
down at the morgue
where ghouls do gorge.
Agreed Jack O' Hare
with a touch of flair,
it's St. John's Nativity
which we'll mark with civility
until the carrot wine does flow
and my bunny nose will glow
from much imbibing
amidst good tiding.
It's Saint John's Eve in the Enchanted Forest
where Sarah Palin leads a pro-climate change chorus
and Al Gore conducts flatulent cows
whose methane gas wows
the crowd will fall dead
so many zombies a' head
in a world topsy turvy
like an upside down curry.
It's Shakespeare's Midsummer Dream all over again
where the robin will sing in tune with the wren
and it's Bottom's up in the glen
he's made an ass of himself
while Puck grins on the shelf
what fools these mortals be
no stars for Pyramus and Thisbe
but two thumbs down
as Snout adjusts his gown
playing a wall
over which bugs do crawl.
'Tis fine theatre indeed
as Steve smoked a poppy seed
in opium there's hope
I ain't no dope.
HIgher than heaven
and the number seven
observed Jack O' Hare
as he sipped eau clare
as Steve climbed Heaven's stair
a lead Zeppelin was he
as he crashed into a tree
enjoying the revelry
of this Bacchic hospitality.
-A poem written by Christopher Van Helsing
Thursday evening, June 23rd 2011
The Eve of the Nativity of Saint John The Baptist.
said the frog called Steve
The Eve of Saint John the Baptist
and I've got the results of my lab test
I'm allergic to flies
so in Japan no fries
so no Twitter photos from Anthony Weiner
or they'll be using formaldehyde for my cleaner
down at the morgue
where ghouls do gorge.
Agreed Jack O' Hare
with a touch of flair,
it's St. John's Nativity
which we'll mark with civility
until the carrot wine does flow
and my bunny nose will glow
from much imbibing
amidst good tiding.
It's Saint John's Eve in the Enchanted Forest
where Sarah Palin leads a pro-climate change chorus
and Al Gore conducts flatulent cows
whose methane gas wows
the crowd will fall dead
so many zombies a' head
in a world topsy turvy
like an upside down curry.
It's Shakespeare's Midsummer Dream all over again
where the robin will sing in tune with the wren
and it's Bottom's up in the glen
he's made an ass of himself
while Puck grins on the shelf
what fools these mortals be
no stars for Pyramus and Thisbe
but two thumbs down
as Snout adjusts his gown
playing a wall
over which bugs do crawl.
'Tis fine theatre indeed
as Steve smoked a poppy seed
in opium there's hope
I ain't no dope.
HIgher than heaven
and the number seven
observed Jack O' Hare
as he sipped eau clare
as Steve climbed Heaven's stair
a lead Zeppelin was he
as he crashed into a tree
enjoying the revelry
of this Bacchic hospitality.
-A poem written by Christopher Van Helsing
Thursday evening, June 23rd 2011
The Eve of the Nativity of Saint John The Baptist.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Renfield Awakens
Renfield R. Renfield was finally awakened by the smell of tuna fish sandwiches coming from the next room.
For almost 2 months now, he had lain comatose and unconscious in the neurosciences unit of King's College Hospital London after he had knocked himself out when he discovered he wouldn't be getting an invitation to the Royal Wedding of Prince William and Kate Middleton.
Renfield pulled the intravenous feeding tubes out of his arms and then went to the hospital room next door where he swiped the tuna fish sandwiches and ate them all.
"Ah, this tastes much better than having liquid shoved through the arm," Renfield belched.
He then left the hospital and went home to the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set's colossal London mansion.
No one was home.
Neither his boss Set nor Amadeus Emanon nor Athelstan the butler.
Renfield checked his email to see who had left him get well messages.
None had.
He seemed to have a lot of fair weather friends he reckoned.
Renfield then brought out all his machine guns and his ammunition.
He then wrote down a list of all his supposed friends.
He then jumped into Set's red Ford Mustang sports car and drove to the addresses of said friends.
On the BBC News that night, BBC was reporting the greatest number of mysterious shootings and killings of various individuals in London in a single day.
Renfield laughed as he looked at the television, "Don't claim to be a friend of mine unless you really mean it. If you're one of my worst enemies posing as a friend, you'll die. Rest assured of that."
To be continued.
For almost 2 months now, he had lain comatose and unconscious in the neurosciences unit of King's College Hospital London after he had knocked himself out when he discovered he wouldn't be getting an invitation to the Royal Wedding of Prince William and Kate Middleton.
Renfield pulled the intravenous feeding tubes out of his arms and then went to the hospital room next door where he swiped the tuna fish sandwiches and ate them all.
"Ah, this tastes much better than having liquid shoved through the arm," Renfield belched.
He then left the hospital and went home to the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set's colossal London mansion.
No one was home.
Neither his boss Set nor Amadeus Emanon nor Athelstan the butler.
Renfield checked his email to see who had left him get well messages.
None had.
He seemed to have a lot of fair weather friends he reckoned.
Renfield then brought out all his machine guns and his ammunition.
He then wrote down a list of all his supposed friends.
He then jumped into Set's red Ford Mustang sports car and drove to the addresses of said friends.
On the BBC News that night, BBC was reporting the greatest number of mysterious shootings and killings of various individuals in London in a single day.
Renfield laughed as he looked at the television, "Don't claim to be a friend of mine unless you really mean it. If you're one of my worst enemies posing as a friend, you'll die. Rest assured of that."
To be continued.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Mazdare The Magician
Mazdare the Magician.
The name and the face gazed out from the poster of the Pantages Theatre.
He had long dark hair, piercing dark eyes and a dark moustache.
In the poster, he doffed his magician's hat (from which many a rabbit had made a quick exit) and held his magic wand.
Stars circled around him in the poster.
Mazdare the Magician.
"My gosh, you look awfully familiar," a distinguished voice spoke to the poster and the speaker of that voice doffed his hat.
"Ah, I can see why," the speaker pointed his finger at the face on the poster and took a sip from his bottle of bourbon, "I believe I see your face in the mirror every morning when I shave. That is after I've shaved. I believe I have a lot more stubble on my face before I shave."
Mazdare the Magician laughed and stumbled along the alleyway before reaching the street.
"Now, the motel is... where is the motel?" Mazdare licked his finger and held his wet finger in the air to tell which way the non-existent wind was blowing, "ah... this way."
He pointed and moved up the street.
He stopped to take a leak against a lamp post.
As he urinated, he sang, "Old Man River. That old man river... yes, old man river keeps rolling along."
When he felt no more coming out, he looked down.
"Has old man river finally stopped rolling along?" He looked down and when he decided that Old Man River had indeed stopped rolling along, he put it back and pulled up his zipper.
"Strange," he thought, "I must be in China because that river sure looked like the Yellow River while it was flowing."
He continued on down the street towards the motel.
He passed the tavern which was right next to the motel.
He looked at the flashing neon lights of the tavern.
And then at the flashing neon lights of the motel.
Carlotta would be waiting for him on the second floor of the motel.
"Just one drink," he spoke to the neon light in the tavern window, "just one drinky pooh. I'm sure Carlotta wouldn't mind."
He entered the tavern.
Sitting up at the bar was a very attractive red head in a short skirt and dominatrix boots.
"That looks like my type of woman," he threw the bourbon bottle he had been carrying into a nearby trash can.
Seated next to her was a greasy looking guy in a plaid sports jacket and wearing glasses.
"I hate guys like that," Mazdare huffed.
He walked up to the nerd in the plaid sports jacket and held his hand at the back of the chair.
"Excuse me," Mazdare smiled politely, "but has this seat been taken?".
"Why, yes it has," replied the nerd.
Mazdare pulled the chair sideways and the nerd fell off to the floor, "You're right. It has been taken. It's been taken by me."
Mazdare sat on the chair and put his hand on the red head's crossed tan pantyhose legs.
"A pleasure to meet you my dear," he patted her knee.
"Are you always so brazen?" the red head looked at him in shock.
"I'm only brazen when I'm well cooked in a brazier," Mazdare smiled at her in reply.
"Who the Hell do you think you are?" the red head asked while the nerd on the floor queried, "Anybody get the license plate number of that truck?".
He reached behind her ear and pulled out a business card seemingly from behind her ear.
"Mazdare the Magician," he smiled, "like the card says."
Indeed the card said MAZDARE THE MAGICIAN.
The woman looked at the card and then at the handsome dark haired dark eyed stranger in front of her.
"I've heard about your show," she said, "They say you're absolutely incredible. They say you make magic seem so real."
"Magic is real," he drew himself closer to her and looked in her eyes.
"Well..." she paused.
"My favourite trick," he drew himself ever closer towards her, "is to take my big wand and to stick it into holes. You'll never know what surprises await you inside a hole."
"I don't... I..." she edged away from him.
Mazdare brought out a pack of cards from his pocket.
"These are cards," he said stating the obvious, "they've never been open before..."
he flashed the whole deck before her like a skilled Vegas casino dealer, "as you can see, this is not a trick deck. Now..." he handed her the deck, "Pick a card. Any card."
She picked a card.
He leaned back.
"Now, look at the card," he commanded, "look at the card very intently. Concentrate on it. Memorize it. Never forget the card."
He gazed intently into her eyes as she gazed intently at the card.
"Is the number and suite of the card emblazoned into your brain?" he asked.
"Yes," she whispered.
He handed her the deck and said, "Now put the card back in the deck."
She did so.
"Shuffle the deck yourself," he helped himself to a bottle of beer from a waitress's passing loaded tray.
She shuffled the deck and then handed the deck back to Mazdare.
Mazdare then re-shuffled the deck himself.
"Now what was the card you chose?" he asked her.
"Aren't you supposed to tell me?" she smiled at him.
"Well I suppose I could tell you it was the 6 of Clubs," he smiled at her, "but where's the fun in that? What was the card you chose?".
"The 6 of Clubs," she gasped.
"Pick the top card from the top of the deck," he said.
She did so.
And flipped it over.
She gasped again.
"The 6 of Clubs," she gazed at him thunderstruck, "how did you do that?".
"Magic," he smiled at her.
He looked at his watch.
"Oops..." Mazdare frowned, "I'm late for an appointment."
He looked at the redhead, kissed her hand and bowed, "It's been a very charming evening. Hope to see you again in the very near future."
He ran from the tavern and up to the 2nd level of the motel using the outside steps and outside walkway.
He pounded on Door 229.
A fiery eyed sultry sexy and steamy brunette Latina woman in a red dress opened the door and screamed at him, "You bastard!".
"Now that is very unfair," he wagged his finger at her as he spoke, "I'll have you know my parents were both legally married when I was conceived and when I was born. Making me grow up a misfit in this society of increasingly common law partnerships."
"I suppose you think just because I'm a whore that my time isn't worth anything," she slapped his face, "but my time is precious. I have other clients besides you, you know."
"But none who are as charming as I am," Mazdare started to take off his shoes.
"But we can't do it now," she said.
"What are you ticked off at me for being a few minutes late?" Mazdare held up his hands in protest.
Carlotta opened the bedroom door and there stood a little girl about 8 years old.
"What is a child doing here?" Mazdare asked in shock.
"She's my niece," Carlotta answered, "my sister was put in jail this evening and will no doubt be remanded for compulsory treatment in drug rehab by the judge tomorrow morning. Social services brought Andrea to me."
"Social Services left her in the care of the town whore?" Mazdare was incredulous.
"I'm her nearest relative," she said.
"So because of your crackhead sister, I won't be allowed to unclog my pipes tonight?" Mazdare raised his arms in disbelief.
"That's right," Carlotta nodded as she smoothed her dress.
"This is outrageous," Mazdare kicked over a garbage can, "I'm no Vulcan like in Star Trek. I just don't mate every 7 years like they did. No wonder Mr. Spock's ears were so pointed. It was all backed up that far."
He slammed the door behind him, walked along the motel's outside walkway and walked down the motel's outside stairwell.
He then walked in a huff through the motel parking lot and as he did so, Carlotta came running out of her motel room, leaned over the balcony in her low-cut red dress and screamed at him, "The next time you think you're perfect, try walking on water."
Mazdare immediately walked over to the motel swimming pool and started walking on top of the water in the pool.
"How the Hell are you able to do that?" Carlotta screamed at him in wonder.
"It's magic," Mazdare held out his arms in triumph as he stood on top of the water in the pool.
"Magicians," she shook her head and went back in the motel room and slammed the door.
* * *
It was Mazdare's magic act inside the Pantages Theatre.
Mazdare held a small paper cage with a dove between his hands and then invited members of the audience to likewise come and hold their hands against the cage.
Suddenly Mazdare slammed his hand down on top of the cage and poof! the cage was gone.
Then Mazdare raised his hat and a dove flew out from inside his hat.
The audience applauded.
* * *
As Mazdare left the back stage of the Pantages Theatre, a small boy probably about 8 or 9 was blubbering on the steps outside the back door.
"What are you snivelling about, you obnoxious little brat?" Mazdare asked.
"Is that any way to talk to paying members of your audience?" the boy bawled.
"Hey, I have to pretend to like kids inside the theatre," Mazdare reached for a bottle of bourbon from underneath his cape, "but out here in the real world, I don't have to like you, you bawling screaming whiny cretins with your runny noses."
The boy continued to sob.
"What are you bawling about anyways?" Mazdare asked.
"I know how you did the trick with the dove inside the cage," the boy cried, "I read magic books. The dove inside the cage died. That dove that flew out from inside your hat was another dove. The dove inside the cage died. Died for the sake of your magic act. I should report you to PETA," the boy snivelled.
"PETA?" Mazdare blinked in disbelief, "those people are terrorists!".
"Terrorists?" the boy looked up at Mazdare.
"Yes," Mazdare nodded, "they had the audacity to steal a steak sandwich from my hands once and to call me a cow killer."
"Well, now you're a dove killer," the boy bawled.
* * *
The next day inside the theatre.
Mazdare asked for a volunteer.
He noticed several hands go up.
And one of them was the boy who had been bawling outside the back stage door of the theatre the day before.
Mazdare smiled.
"Come up, lad," he invited.
The boy's mother look worried but the boy ran up on the stage.
He was then placed inside a box.
And soon Mazdare and his lovely blonde female assistant in the slit sparkly sequined cream coloured evening dress started sticking swords all through the box.
The boy's mother looked pensive.
Mazdare's assistant then opened the box and a little girl stepped out.
The audience burst into applause.
* * *
Outside the back stage of the theatre, the boy's mother waited with the little girl.
"Where is my son?" the boy's mother demanded to know as Mazdare emerged from the stage door.
"That is your son," Mazdare pointed at the girl.
"But she's a girl," the mother protested.
"Still, she's now your child," Mazdare threw his cloak around himself, "As a woman named Carlotta recently told me... let me rephrase that... recently implied, I'm not perfect. So Madam, let me tell you, I'm not perfect. I'm not perfect. And neither is magic."
"You mean you've turned my son into a girl permanently?" the woman gasped.
"Madam," Mazdare threw his cloak around his neck and then rubbed his hands together with glee, "think of it as an experiment in transgenderism gone wild."
He doffed his hat towards the woman, winked at the girl and then walked down the back alley towards the open street.
* * *
The old man looked out the window of his motel room in Room 228.
Outside he noticed standing in the motel rose garden was that mysterious individual that was always visiting the woman in the room next door.
The man looked at his old Coca-Cola neon clock from the 1950s. It said 12 Midnight.
He then looked back at the dark haired figure dressed in black.
The man seemed to be digging a deep hole in the garden where he dropped several bags that seemed to contain meat and bones or at least so the old man concluded from his vantage point.
The figure in black then used the shovel to put dirt back over the hole.
When he had finished, the figure in black doffed his hat towards the hole, put the shovel he was carrying in the trunk of a car and then headed upstairs.
The old man's neighbour Carlotta greeted the dark figure at the door of Room 229.
She wore a tight fitting red evening dress that accentuated every curve in her body.
"I found your niece a new home," Mazdare the Magician said as he stood at the door.
"Oh, darling," Carlotta embraced and kissed him.
She kicked the door closed with one of her red spiked stiletto high-heeled shoes.
The old man put on the late movie on the TV, grabbed a beer and sat down and watched.
No use going to sleep he figured.
The noise those two made as they did it.
And no doubt they would be at it all night.
Like always.
-A short story written by Christopher Van Helsing
Monday evening June 20th 2011.
The name and the face gazed out from the poster of the Pantages Theatre.
He had long dark hair, piercing dark eyes and a dark moustache.
In the poster, he doffed his magician's hat (from which many a rabbit had made a quick exit) and held his magic wand.
Stars circled around him in the poster.
Mazdare the Magician.
"My gosh, you look awfully familiar," a distinguished voice spoke to the poster and the speaker of that voice doffed his hat.
"Ah, I can see why," the speaker pointed his finger at the face on the poster and took a sip from his bottle of bourbon, "I believe I see your face in the mirror every morning when I shave. That is after I've shaved. I believe I have a lot more stubble on my face before I shave."
Mazdare the Magician laughed and stumbled along the alleyway before reaching the street.
"Now, the motel is... where is the motel?" Mazdare licked his finger and held his wet finger in the air to tell which way the non-existent wind was blowing, "ah... this way."
He pointed and moved up the street.
He stopped to take a leak against a lamp post.
As he urinated, he sang, "Old Man River. That old man river... yes, old man river keeps rolling along."
When he felt no more coming out, he looked down.
"Has old man river finally stopped rolling along?" He looked down and when he decided that Old Man River had indeed stopped rolling along, he put it back and pulled up his zipper.
"Strange," he thought, "I must be in China because that river sure looked like the Yellow River while it was flowing."
He continued on down the street towards the motel.
He passed the tavern which was right next to the motel.
He looked at the flashing neon lights of the tavern.
And then at the flashing neon lights of the motel.
Carlotta would be waiting for him on the second floor of the motel.
"Just one drink," he spoke to the neon light in the tavern window, "just one drinky pooh. I'm sure Carlotta wouldn't mind."
He entered the tavern.
Sitting up at the bar was a very attractive red head in a short skirt and dominatrix boots.
"That looks like my type of woman," he threw the bourbon bottle he had been carrying into a nearby trash can.
Seated next to her was a greasy looking guy in a plaid sports jacket and wearing glasses.
"I hate guys like that," Mazdare huffed.
He walked up to the nerd in the plaid sports jacket and held his hand at the back of the chair.
"Excuse me," Mazdare smiled politely, "but has this seat been taken?".
"Why, yes it has," replied the nerd.
Mazdare pulled the chair sideways and the nerd fell off to the floor, "You're right. It has been taken. It's been taken by me."
Mazdare sat on the chair and put his hand on the red head's crossed tan pantyhose legs.
"A pleasure to meet you my dear," he patted her knee.
"Are you always so brazen?" the red head looked at him in shock.
"I'm only brazen when I'm well cooked in a brazier," Mazdare smiled at her in reply.
"Who the Hell do you think you are?" the red head asked while the nerd on the floor queried, "Anybody get the license plate number of that truck?".
He reached behind her ear and pulled out a business card seemingly from behind her ear.
"Mazdare the Magician," he smiled, "like the card says."
Indeed the card said MAZDARE THE MAGICIAN.
The woman looked at the card and then at the handsome dark haired dark eyed stranger in front of her.
"I've heard about your show," she said, "They say you're absolutely incredible. They say you make magic seem so real."
"Magic is real," he drew himself closer to her and looked in her eyes.
"Well..." she paused.
"My favourite trick," he drew himself ever closer towards her, "is to take my big wand and to stick it into holes. You'll never know what surprises await you inside a hole."
"I don't... I..." she edged away from him.
Mazdare brought out a pack of cards from his pocket.
"These are cards," he said stating the obvious, "they've never been open before..."
he flashed the whole deck before her like a skilled Vegas casino dealer, "as you can see, this is not a trick deck. Now..." he handed her the deck, "Pick a card. Any card."
She picked a card.
He leaned back.
"Now, look at the card," he commanded, "look at the card very intently. Concentrate on it. Memorize it. Never forget the card."
He gazed intently into her eyes as she gazed intently at the card.
"Is the number and suite of the card emblazoned into your brain?" he asked.
"Yes," she whispered.
He handed her the deck and said, "Now put the card back in the deck."
She did so.
"Shuffle the deck yourself," he helped himself to a bottle of beer from a waitress's passing loaded tray.
She shuffled the deck and then handed the deck back to Mazdare.
Mazdare then re-shuffled the deck himself.
"Now what was the card you chose?" he asked her.
"Aren't you supposed to tell me?" she smiled at him.
"Well I suppose I could tell you it was the 6 of Clubs," he smiled at her, "but where's the fun in that? What was the card you chose?".
"The 6 of Clubs," she gasped.
"Pick the top card from the top of the deck," he said.
She did so.
And flipped it over.
She gasped again.
"The 6 of Clubs," she gazed at him thunderstruck, "how did you do that?".
"Magic," he smiled at her.
He looked at his watch.
"Oops..." Mazdare frowned, "I'm late for an appointment."
He looked at the redhead, kissed her hand and bowed, "It's been a very charming evening. Hope to see you again in the very near future."
He ran from the tavern and up to the 2nd level of the motel using the outside steps and outside walkway.
He pounded on Door 229.
A fiery eyed sultry sexy and steamy brunette Latina woman in a red dress opened the door and screamed at him, "You bastard!".
"Now that is very unfair," he wagged his finger at her as he spoke, "I'll have you know my parents were both legally married when I was conceived and when I was born. Making me grow up a misfit in this society of increasingly common law partnerships."
"I suppose you think just because I'm a whore that my time isn't worth anything," she slapped his face, "but my time is precious. I have other clients besides you, you know."
"But none who are as charming as I am," Mazdare started to take off his shoes.
"But we can't do it now," she said.
"What are you ticked off at me for being a few minutes late?" Mazdare held up his hands in protest.
Carlotta opened the bedroom door and there stood a little girl about 8 years old.
"What is a child doing here?" Mazdare asked in shock.
"She's my niece," Carlotta answered, "my sister was put in jail this evening and will no doubt be remanded for compulsory treatment in drug rehab by the judge tomorrow morning. Social services brought Andrea to me."
"Social Services left her in the care of the town whore?" Mazdare was incredulous.
"I'm her nearest relative," she said.
"So because of your crackhead sister, I won't be allowed to unclog my pipes tonight?" Mazdare raised his arms in disbelief.
"That's right," Carlotta nodded as she smoothed her dress.
"This is outrageous," Mazdare kicked over a garbage can, "I'm no Vulcan like in Star Trek. I just don't mate every 7 years like they did. No wonder Mr. Spock's ears were so pointed. It was all backed up that far."
He slammed the door behind him, walked along the motel's outside walkway and walked down the motel's outside stairwell.
He then walked in a huff through the motel parking lot and as he did so, Carlotta came running out of her motel room, leaned over the balcony in her low-cut red dress and screamed at him, "The next time you think you're perfect, try walking on water."
Mazdare immediately walked over to the motel swimming pool and started walking on top of the water in the pool.
"How the Hell are you able to do that?" Carlotta screamed at him in wonder.
"It's magic," Mazdare held out his arms in triumph as he stood on top of the water in the pool.
"Magicians," she shook her head and went back in the motel room and slammed the door.
* * *
It was Mazdare's magic act inside the Pantages Theatre.
Mazdare held a small paper cage with a dove between his hands and then invited members of the audience to likewise come and hold their hands against the cage.
Suddenly Mazdare slammed his hand down on top of the cage and poof! the cage was gone.
Then Mazdare raised his hat and a dove flew out from inside his hat.
The audience applauded.
* * *
As Mazdare left the back stage of the Pantages Theatre, a small boy probably about 8 or 9 was blubbering on the steps outside the back door.
"What are you snivelling about, you obnoxious little brat?" Mazdare asked.
"Is that any way to talk to paying members of your audience?" the boy bawled.
"Hey, I have to pretend to like kids inside the theatre," Mazdare reached for a bottle of bourbon from underneath his cape, "but out here in the real world, I don't have to like you, you bawling screaming whiny cretins with your runny noses."
The boy continued to sob.
"What are you bawling about anyways?" Mazdare asked.
"I know how you did the trick with the dove inside the cage," the boy cried, "I read magic books. The dove inside the cage died. That dove that flew out from inside your hat was another dove. The dove inside the cage died. Died for the sake of your magic act. I should report you to PETA," the boy snivelled.
"PETA?" Mazdare blinked in disbelief, "those people are terrorists!".
"Terrorists?" the boy looked up at Mazdare.
"Yes," Mazdare nodded, "they had the audacity to steal a steak sandwich from my hands once and to call me a cow killer."
"Well, now you're a dove killer," the boy bawled.
* * *
The next day inside the theatre.
Mazdare asked for a volunteer.
He noticed several hands go up.
And one of them was the boy who had been bawling outside the back stage door of the theatre the day before.
Mazdare smiled.
"Come up, lad," he invited.
The boy's mother look worried but the boy ran up on the stage.
He was then placed inside a box.
And soon Mazdare and his lovely blonde female assistant in the slit sparkly sequined cream coloured evening dress started sticking swords all through the box.
The boy's mother looked pensive.
Mazdare's assistant then opened the box and a little girl stepped out.
The audience burst into applause.
* * *
Outside the back stage of the theatre, the boy's mother waited with the little girl.
"Where is my son?" the boy's mother demanded to know as Mazdare emerged from the stage door.
"That is your son," Mazdare pointed at the girl.
"But she's a girl," the mother protested.
"Still, she's now your child," Mazdare threw his cloak around himself, "As a woman named Carlotta recently told me... let me rephrase that... recently implied, I'm not perfect. So Madam, let me tell you, I'm not perfect. I'm not perfect. And neither is magic."
"You mean you've turned my son into a girl permanently?" the woman gasped.
"Madam," Mazdare threw his cloak around his neck and then rubbed his hands together with glee, "think of it as an experiment in transgenderism gone wild."
He doffed his hat towards the woman, winked at the girl and then walked down the back alley towards the open street.
* * *
The old man looked out the window of his motel room in Room 228.
Outside he noticed standing in the motel rose garden was that mysterious individual that was always visiting the woman in the room next door.
The man looked at his old Coca-Cola neon clock from the 1950s. It said 12 Midnight.
He then looked back at the dark haired figure dressed in black.
The man seemed to be digging a deep hole in the garden where he dropped several bags that seemed to contain meat and bones or at least so the old man concluded from his vantage point.
The figure in black then used the shovel to put dirt back over the hole.
When he had finished, the figure in black doffed his hat towards the hole, put the shovel he was carrying in the trunk of a car and then headed upstairs.
The old man's neighbour Carlotta greeted the dark figure at the door of Room 229.
She wore a tight fitting red evening dress that accentuated every curve in her body.
"I found your niece a new home," Mazdare the Magician said as he stood at the door.
"Oh, darling," Carlotta embraced and kissed him.
She kicked the door closed with one of her red spiked stiletto high-heeled shoes.
The old man put on the late movie on the TV, grabbed a beer and sat down and watched.
No use going to sleep he figured.
The noise those two made as they did it.
And no doubt they would be at it all night.
Like always.
-A short story written by Christopher Van Helsing
Monday evening June 20th 2011.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
The Nun Who Danced To Judas
Sister Agnes stood in the hallway of the orphanage and looked at the statue of Jesus with His Sacred Heart.
The nun was standing in spiked stiletto high-heels which was unusual for a nun of her order.
She reached down and ripped the bottom part of her robe from her ankle up to her pelvis.
She ripped it on both sides this way.
The rips exposed black silk nylons that she was wearing underneath her robe.
She then started to dance in front of the statue of the Sacred Heart Jesus.
She danced and she sang.
She sang,
I'm just a Holy Fool
Oh, baby, it's so cruel
But I'm still in love with Judas, baby
I'm just a Holy Fool
Oh, baby, it's so cruel
But I'm still in love with Judas, baby.
She spun around on her stilettos and her nun's robe whirled like a belly dancer's dress as she sensuously moved her arms back and forth.
She approached the statue of the Sacred Heart Jesus and kissed it on the lips with her ruby rouge red lipstick lips.
She sang,
I wanna love you,
But something's pulling me away from you...
She then turned her back on the statue and embraced nothing but air in her arms as she sang,
Jesus is my virtue...
She then opened her eyes which she had closed and her eyes seemed to be looking at something that she was embracing but would have appeared invisible to any other observer that might have been standing in the hallway.
She sang as she embraced the nothingness she caressed in her arms,
And Judas is the demon I cling to
I cling to
She then opened the door and entered the room where all the young children were sleeping in the orphanage.
She lifted her robes and pulled a huge butcher knife from a black lingerie garter belt tied around her right knee.
She then went from bed to bed quickly slitting the throats of all the children- baby, toddler, boy, girl, 6-year-old, 7-year-old.
Each time she slit a throat, she'd click her heels together and sing,
I'm just a Holy Fool,
Oh, baby, it's so cruel
But I'm still in love with Judas, baby
I'm just a Holy Fool,
Oh, baby, it's so cruel
But I'm still in love with Judas, baby.
She then left the nursery after she had slain all the children, threw the statue of the Sacred Heart Jesus in the hallway to the floor and broke it as she sang,
Jesus is my virtue...
She then went running outside the orphanage into the garden where a tall dark haired handsome stranger waited by the fountain whose top was a cherubic angel with an arrow.
The very beautiful 30-year-old nun went running into the arms of the tall dark haired handsome stranger and kissed him passionately on the lips.
She then caressed his neck and embraced him tightly singing,
And Judas is the demon I cling to
I cling to
As she did so, she kissed him on the cheek oblivious to the fact that the tall dark haired handsome stranger was now turning into a red reptilian thing with bat like wings and clawed talons and spiked tail.
The thing burst into flames turning Sister Agnes into flames with it.
A two-year-old who had escaped the slaughter in the nursery by hiding under the bed poked his head out from under the bed and said in baby talk,
Ga-Ga, Ga-Ga.
The End.
-A short story written by Christopher Van Helsing
Sunday evening June 19th 2011.
The nun was standing in spiked stiletto high-heels which was unusual for a nun of her order.
She reached down and ripped the bottom part of her robe from her ankle up to her pelvis.
She ripped it on both sides this way.
The rips exposed black silk nylons that she was wearing underneath her robe.
She then started to dance in front of the statue of the Sacred Heart Jesus.
She danced and she sang.
She sang,
I'm just a Holy Fool
Oh, baby, it's so cruel
But I'm still in love with Judas, baby
I'm just a Holy Fool
Oh, baby, it's so cruel
But I'm still in love with Judas, baby.
She spun around on her stilettos and her nun's robe whirled like a belly dancer's dress as she sensuously moved her arms back and forth.
She approached the statue of the Sacred Heart Jesus and kissed it on the lips with her ruby rouge red lipstick lips.
She sang,
I wanna love you,
But something's pulling me away from you...
She then turned her back on the statue and embraced nothing but air in her arms as she sang,
Jesus is my virtue...
She then opened her eyes which she had closed and her eyes seemed to be looking at something that she was embracing but would have appeared invisible to any other observer that might have been standing in the hallway.
She sang as she embraced the nothingness she caressed in her arms,
And Judas is the demon I cling to
I cling to
She then opened the door and entered the room where all the young children were sleeping in the orphanage.
She lifted her robes and pulled a huge butcher knife from a black lingerie garter belt tied around her right knee.
She then went from bed to bed quickly slitting the throats of all the children- baby, toddler, boy, girl, 6-year-old, 7-year-old.
Each time she slit a throat, she'd click her heels together and sing,
I'm just a Holy Fool,
Oh, baby, it's so cruel
But I'm still in love with Judas, baby
I'm just a Holy Fool,
Oh, baby, it's so cruel
But I'm still in love with Judas, baby.
She then left the nursery after she had slain all the children, threw the statue of the Sacred Heart Jesus in the hallway to the floor and broke it as she sang,
Jesus is my virtue...
She then went running outside the orphanage into the garden where a tall dark haired handsome stranger waited by the fountain whose top was a cherubic angel with an arrow.
The very beautiful 30-year-old nun went running into the arms of the tall dark haired handsome stranger and kissed him passionately on the lips.
She then caressed his neck and embraced him tightly singing,
And Judas is the demon I cling to
I cling to
As she did so, she kissed him on the cheek oblivious to the fact that the tall dark haired handsome stranger was now turning into a red reptilian thing with bat like wings and clawed talons and spiked tail.
The thing burst into flames turning Sister Agnes into flames with it.
A two-year-old who had escaped the slaughter in the nursery by hiding under the bed poked his head out from under the bed and said in baby talk,
Ga-Ga, Ga-Ga.
The End.
-A short story written by Christopher Van Helsing
Sunday evening June 19th 2011.
Friday, June 17, 2011
How World War III Will Begin
Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster was spending YET another boring Friday night hooked up to the computer in the Set Laboratories Lab.
Michelangelo decided yet again that he'd entertain himself by entering the dreams of the comatose Renfield R. Renfield who was laying in a hospital bed in King's College Hospital, London.
Using current events from watching BBC World News, Michelangelo decided that he would project a documentary from the far future into Renfield R. Renfield's dreaming mind.
The female BBC Documentary Announcer from the future intoned, "Coming up next on BBC Documentary Channel our award-winning documentary How World War III Began..."
The program starts.
The voice of the male narrator began the intro,
"World War III would start in the year 2100. It would begin when the City of Vancouver lost yet another game 7 of a Stanley Cup NHL Hockey Championship- the 21st time in history it had done so. This time however the rioters in the streets would have access to nuclear weapons which they would use and send the whole world into a nuclear conflagration of the worst magnitude that would take the Earth centuries to recover..."
Renfield R. Renfied being the deranged psychopathic shapeshifter hamster/human that he was could not help but grin in his sleep as he watched all the carnage and destruction being shown him in his dream.
To be continued.
Michelangelo decided yet again that he'd entertain himself by entering the dreams of the comatose Renfield R. Renfield who was laying in a hospital bed in King's College Hospital, London.
Using current events from watching BBC World News, Michelangelo decided that he would project a documentary from the far future into Renfield R. Renfield's dreaming mind.
The female BBC Documentary Announcer from the future intoned, "Coming up next on BBC Documentary Channel our award-winning documentary How World War III Began..."
The program starts.
The voice of the male narrator began the intro,
"World War III would start in the year 2100. It would begin when the City of Vancouver lost yet another game 7 of a Stanley Cup NHL Hockey Championship- the 21st time in history it had done so. This time however the rioters in the streets would have access to nuclear weapons which they would use and send the whole world into a nuclear conflagration of the worst magnitude that would take the Earth centuries to recover..."
Renfield R. Renfied being the deranged psychopathic shapeshifter hamster/human that he was could not help but grin in his sleep as he watched all the carnage and destruction being shown him in his dream.
To be continued.
Saturday, June 11, 2011
The Phoenix Bird and The Beautiful Garden
At the dawn of humanity
a lovely garden
and the Phoenix bird flew
from tree to tree.
No animal lovelier than the phoenix bird
with its multicoloured feathers.
Man and woman
in the garden.
They were entranced with the phoenix
and its lovely multicoloured plumage.
One day the woman by the babbling brook
noticed the fair beautiful bird
sitting in a tree.
She approached.
The bird chirped.
The woman seemed hesitant.
The bird chirped again.
The woman reached out to the bird
and the bird flew away.
She grabbed a fruit from the branch the bird sat on.
She ate some of the fruit.
And gave some to the man to eat.
A huge storm descended upon the garden.
The man turned ashen white.
The woman wept.
And the Phoenix lost its beautiful
multicoloured feathers
and its beautiful multicoloured plumage
and all its wings
and all its talons
and its beak
and its lovely song
and its harmonious chirp.
And the bare naked bird
stripped of its colour
and its feathers
and its plumage
and its talons
and its beak
and its lovely song
and its harmonious chirp
could fly and soar no longer.
Instead it slithered in the grass
while crawling on its belly
and waved its tongue at passers-by.
And the descendants of the once great and beautiful bird
some grew fangs
that dripped with poisonous venom
that lashed out at any that came near
the creature could not but remember its former glory
and brooding in the dark holes of the earth
its heart became poisoned
and went through its entire body
so the fangs became poisoned.
And the poison grew over the entire earth.
As for the garden,
the man and woman were sent away from the garden
never to return
so that the poison would not destroy
the beautiful garden.
-A poem written by Christopher Van Helsing
Saturday evening June 11th 2011.
a lovely garden
and the Phoenix bird flew
from tree to tree.
No animal lovelier than the phoenix bird
with its multicoloured feathers.
Man and woman
in the garden.
They were entranced with the phoenix
and its lovely multicoloured plumage.
One day the woman by the babbling brook
noticed the fair beautiful bird
sitting in a tree.
She approached.
The bird chirped.
The woman seemed hesitant.
The bird chirped again.
The woman reached out to the bird
and the bird flew away.
She grabbed a fruit from the branch the bird sat on.
She ate some of the fruit.
And gave some to the man to eat.
A huge storm descended upon the garden.
The man turned ashen white.
The woman wept.
And the Phoenix lost its beautiful
multicoloured feathers
and its beautiful multicoloured plumage
and all its wings
and all its talons
and its beak
and its lovely song
and its harmonious chirp.
And the bare naked bird
stripped of its colour
and its feathers
and its plumage
and its talons
and its beak
and its lovely song
and its harmonious chirp
could fly and soar no longer.
Instead it slithered in the grass
while crawling on its belly
and waved its tongue at passers-by.
And the descendants of the once great and beautiful bird
some grew fangs
that dripped with poisonous venom
that lashed out at any that came near
the creature could not but remember its former glory
and brooding in the dark holes of the earth
its heart became poisoned
and went through its entire body
so the fangs became poisoned.
And the poison grew over the entire earth.
As for the garden,
the man and woman were sent away from the garden
never to return
so that the poison would not destroy
the beautiful garden.
-A poem written by Christopher Van Helsing
Saturday evening June 11th 2011.
Friday, June 10, 2011
The Storm
All day the city skies were blue with humidity
then the haze moved in slowly
and then like an invisible dragon materializing
one speck at a time
A dark gray here
A dark gray there
and then the enormous body of the dragon formed
cloud upon cloud upon cloud
and seemed to swallow the tops of the skyscrapers
advancing downwards ever downwards
then it roared
and roared
and... ROARED!
Then it opened its mouth
and shot out a spark of fire
and the 80-year-old tree
in the middle of the park
was no more.
Slain by a fire-breathing dragon.
And the hail stones on the ground
provided cold comfort to the grass.
-A poem written by Christopher Van Helsing
Friday evening, June 10th 2011
in the middle of a thunderstorm.
then the haze moved in slowly
and then like an invisible dragon materializing
one speck at a time
A dark gray here
A dark gray there
and then the enormous body of the dragon formed
cloud upon cloud upon cloud
and seemed to swallow the tops of the skyscrapers
advancing downwards ever downwards
then it roared
and roared
and... ROARED!
Then it opened its mouth
and shot out a spark of fire
and the 80-year-old tree
in the middle of the park
was no more.
Slain by a fire-breathing dragon.
And the hail stones on the ground
provided cold comfort to the grass.
-A poem written by Christopher Van Helsing
Friday evening, June 10th 2011
in the middle of a thunderstorm.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
June Night
June night
hot warm and slzzling
and the sizzling beast emerged from under the earth
making the city hotter still.
Fahrenheit temperatures rising and rising
what is up with all this heat?
Of course Hell is slightly cooler
as the sizzling beasts from below
now walk the earth.
The city looks pleasant enough on a June evening
but that is often the case before doom strikes.
hot warm and slzzling
and the sizzling beast emerged from under the earth
making the city hotter still.
Fahrenheit temperatures rising and rising
what is up with all this heat?
Of course Hell is slightly cooler
as the sizzling beasts from below
now walk the earth.
The city looks pleasant enough on a June evening
but that is often the case before doom strikes.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
The Boiling Frog Experiment
Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster was spending Wednesday evening cooped up in the Set Enterprises lab (as he spent every other evening of a 7-day week).
And of course Michelangelo had his antenna hooked up to a computer so it could read and penetrate the sleeping thoughts (i.e. dreams) of individuals all over the world and then pass the information to the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set's computer data base.
Michelangelo had heard Wednesday called "hump day" by certain employees of Set Enterprises.
Which may explain why Set Enterprises' chief mad scientist Dr. Cadbury Rocher had just spent "hump day" genetically engineering a camel who wouldn't have a hump.
Michelangelo could not surmise the reason why Dr. Cadbury Rocher would do this.
After all he had heard it said by the great Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing that "A camel was God's way of letting the world know what a horse would look like if it had been designed by a committee."
So where would a camel be without his hump?
God only knew.
And Dr. Cadbury Rocher was obviously anxious to find out.
Totally oblivious to the fact that humpless camels had already been discovered in southern Tanzania.
But some poor snook Arabian camel was being made to suffer for Dr. Cadbury Rocher's lack of knowledge.
Such was the calling of science these days.
As for Michelangelo, he himself was a lobster who had been genetically engineered by Dr. Cadbury Rocher to enter people's dreams and their unconscious minds.
Michelangelo decided once again to enter the unconscious mind of the comatose Renfield R. Renfield who was still lying in a coma in the neurosciences unit of King's College Hospital here in London.
This time he would not be sending his own visual images into Renfield's dream like he had last Friday night when he had sent to Renfield's brain his own version of the Lady Gaga video Judas.
Rather he would choose to see what sort of dreams Renfield dreamt about on his own.
Renfield was dreaming that he was in the kitchen of the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set's colossal London mansion.
Amadeus Emanon was sitting at the kitchen table eating from a bag of potato chips.
Renfield had a pot on the stove and he had placed a frog in the pot and was slowly raising the temperature of the pot on the stove.
"What are you doing?" Amadeus asked as he munched on a potato chip.
"I'm trying to determine whether that theory which says if you place a frog in boiling water right away it will immediately jump out- which I tried on the previous frog and it died when I placed it in boiling water," Renfield explained, "but now I'm empirically testing the second part of the theory which says if you slowly raise the temperature of the water up to boiling, the frog won't jump out of the pot until it's too late and the frog will boil to death."
"That's horrible," Amadeus stopped eating his potato chip.
"I know," Renfield cackled an evil laugh.
Amadeus was too paralyzed by the sound of Renfield's evil laugh to get up and rescue the frog.
And with each passing moment, Renfield used the knobs on the stove to slowly raise the temperature of the water the frog was in.
Suddenly one could hear the water starting to boil and bubble portending trouble...
... particularly for the frog...
.... when suddenly...
... Miss Piggy walked into the kitchen and screamed, "KERMIT! What are you letting that evil man do to you?."
To be continued.
And of course Michelangelo had his antenna hooked up to a computer so it could read and penetrate the sleeping thoughts (i.e. dreams) of individuals all over the world and then pass the information to the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set's computer data base.
Michelangelo had heard Wednesday called "hump day" by certain employees of Set Enterprises.
Which may explain why Set Enterprises' chief mad scientist Dr. Cadbury Rocher had just spent "hump day" genetically engineering a camel who wouldn't have a hump.
Michelangelo could not surmise the reason why Dr. Cadbury Rocher would do this.
After all he had heard it said by the great Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing that "A camel was God's way of letting the world know what a horse would look like if it had been designed by a committee."
So where would a camel be without his hump?
God only knew.
And Dr. Cadbury Rocher was obviously anxious to find out.
Totally oblivious to the fact that humpless camels had already been discovered in southern Tanzania.
But some poor snook Arabian camel was being made to suffer for Dr. Cadbury Rocher's lack of knowledge.
Such was the calling of science these days.
As for Michelangelo, he himself was a lobster who had been genetically engineered by Dr. Cadbury Rocher to enter people's dreams and their unconscious minds.
Michelangelo decided once again to enter the unconscious mind of the comatose Renfield R. Renfield who was still lying in a coma in the neurosciences unit of King's College Hospital here in London.
This time he would not be sending his own visual images into Renfield's dream like he had last Friday night when he had sent to Renfield's brain his own version of the Lady Gaga video Judas.
Rather he would choose to see what sort of dreams Renfield dreamt about on his own.
Renfield was dreaming that he was in the kitchen of the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set's colossal London mansion.
Amadeus Emanon was sitting at the kitchen table eating from a bag of potato chips.
Renfield had a pot on the stove and he had placed a frog in the pot and was slowly raising the temperature of the pot on the stove.
"What are you doing?" Amadeus asked as he munched on a potato chip.
"I'm trying to determine whether that theory which says if you place a frog in boiling water right away it will immediately jump out- which I tried on the previous frog and it died when I placed it in boiling water," Renfield explained, "but now I'm empirically testing the second part of the theory which says if you slowly raise the temperature of the water up to boiling, the frog won't jump out of the pot until it's too late and the frog will boil to death."
"That's horrible," Amadeus stopped eating his potato chip.
"I know," Renfield cackled an evil laugh.
Amadeus was too paralyzed by the sound of Renfield's evil laugh to get up and rescue the frog.
And with each passing moment, Renfield used the knobs on the stove to slowly raise the temperature of the water the frog was in.
Suddenly one could hear the water starting to boil and bubble portending trouble...
... particularly for the frog...
.... when suddenly...
... Miss Piggy walked into the kitchen and screamed, "KERMIT! What are you letting that evil man do to you?."
To be continued.
Friday, June 3, 2011
Renfield's Dream of Lady Gaga's Judas Video Re-Interpreted
Michelangelo the psychic lobster who had been genetically engineered by Set Laboratories to enter people's dreams was spending yet another boring Friday night in the lab.
How the lobster wished he could spend a Friday night out on the town.
Of course if Michelangelo realized just how popular a dish roast lobster was in London, he might not have been so anxious to go out on the town.
So to cure his boredom, Michelangelo decided that he would once again enter the dreams of the comatose Renfield R. Renfield who had knocked himself out the day before Prince William and Kate Middleton's wedding when he finally realized that he was not going to get an invitation to the event.
Michelangelo started sending visual images from Lady Gaga's latest music video Judas into Renfield's mind.
Instead of Lady Gaga however, it was a woman who looked like body builder and fitness instructor Denise Paglia who was singing the song Judas.
As Denise Paglia sang, "I'm in love with Judas-as, Judas-as", she started kissing the leather motorcycle jacketed Judas in the video.
And the leather motorcycle jacketed Judas just happened to bear a striking resemblance to atheistic philosopher and economic Nietzschean Ayn Rand (1905-82) author of The Fountainhead (1943) and Atlas Shrugged (1957).
In the background in the video in Renfield's dream could be heard a statement that His Holiness Pope Benedict XVI made last month in which he said that it was sinful for any Catholic to pose as being someone else on the Net and to claim to be somebody that they are not.
Denise Paglia sang the Lady Gaga lyrics to Jesus in the video,
I wanna love you,
but something's pulling me away from you
Jesus is my virtue...
Denise Paglia then turned her back on Jesus and embraced and kissed Judas who was indeed the spitting image of atheistic philosopher and economic Nietzschean Ayn Rand.
Paglia sang,
And Judas is the demon I cling to
I cling to.
As Renfield watched the video in the dream in his mind, he said,
"Gee, I really feel like eating roast lobster about now..."
It was then that Michelangelo left his dream.
So the Paglia/Gaga figure in the video in the dream never did learn the result of what would be the images of Michelangelo's Last Judgment upon her....
To be continued.
How the lobster wished he could spend a Friday night out on the town.
Of course if Michelangelo realized just how popular a dish roast lobster was in London, he might not have been so anxious to go out on the town.
So to cure his boredom, Michelangelo decided that he would once again enter the dreams of the comatose Renfield R. Renfield who had knocked himself out the day before Prince William and Kate Middleton's wedding when he finally realized that he was not going to get an invitation to the event.
Michelangelo started sending visual images from Lady Gaga's latest music video Judas into Renfield's mind.
Instead of Lady Gaga however, it was a woman who looked like body builder and fitness instructor Denise Paglia who was singing the song Judas.
As Denise Paglia sang, "I'm in love with Judas-as, Judas-as", she started kissing the leather motorcycle jacketed Judas in the video.
And the leather motorcycle jacketed Judas just happened to bear a striking resemblance to atheistic philosopher and economic Nietzschean Ayn Rand (1905-82) author of The Fountainhead (1943) and Atlas Shrugged (1957).
In the background in the video in Renfield's dream could be heard a statement that His Holiness Pope Benedict XVI made last month in which he said that it was sinful for any Catholic to pose as being someone else on the Net and to claim to be somebody that they are not.
Denise Paglia sang the Lady Gaga lyrics to Jesus in the video,
I wanna love you,
but something's pulling me away from you
Jesus is my virtue...
Denise Paglia then turned her back on Jesus and embraced and kissed Judas who was indeed the spitting image of atheistic philosopher and economic Nietzschean Ayn Rand.
Paglia sang,
And Judas is the demon I cling to
I cling to.
As Renfield watched the video in the dream in his mind, he said,
"Gee, I really feel like eating roast lobster about now..."
It was then that Michelangelo left his dream.
So the Paglia/Gaga figure in the video in the dream never did learn the result of what would be the images of Michelangelo's Last Judgment upon her....
To be continued.
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