Phoenix On The Temple Mount On The 9th of Av
A Phoenix unseen to the human eye
seen only by those with spiritual vision
this Phoenix lived a happy life on Mount Fuji, Japan
but now was its time to die
It would return to its rocky home in the sands of Arabia
Build itself a pyre nest of aromatic branches
and then cover it with the spice of myrrh
Then throw on some frankincense
and set it on fire
And then consume itself in the flames.
So like the salmon returning to the streams of its birth in British Columbia in order to spawn, so the Phoenix would return to the sands of its birth in Arabia in order to die.
The Phoenix sang a happy song as it flew west
away from its adopted land of the rising sun
to a land far closer to the setting sun
as it neared the sunset of its own life
A song as sung by one expectant to reach Paradise
It was flying home to its terrestrial home
to serve as the gate of entry to its celestial home
As it neared the Arabian Peninsula, it wept tears of joy
but those watery eyes would soon be overcome by rings of smoke
caused by the fires of war burning below
and those tears of joy turned to tears of mourning as it noticed its rocky home had been destroyed by missiles
caused by the bloodbath whose whirlpools flowed between Yemeni Houthi rebel and Saudi soldier
It flew further west still
searching for a new place to die
The Bird of Paradise
overcome by the visions of Tartarus playing out on the surface of the earth below
It flew until it could fly no more
Its heart tried to keep beating until it could beat no more
its song of joy a distant tune whose melody was rapidly being forgotten
The bird dropped down
and down
and down
And fell on top of the Temple Mount in Jerusalem
on this 9th of Av in the Hebrew lunar year 5775
The Gregorian solar calendar date of July 25th 2015.
For one brief shining moment
this beautiful rainbow coloured feather giant bird
stood proudly up on its feet
spread its wings
and sang out its cry
a cry of despair across the universal sky
Tears of blood fell from its eyes
and poured down its body
and then it fell to the ground
and died.
No human eye could see the fierce fire that burned on the Temple Mount.
-A narrative free verse poem
written by Christopher
Saturday July 25th
2015.
Sent from my iPhone
Saturday, July 25, 2015
Wednesday, July 22, 2015
What Lies Beneath The Unmarked Grave?
What Lies Beneath The Unmarked Grave?
Billowing clouds
dark and gray
forming cathedral pillars in the sky
but a dark sinister cathedral
built to receive dark gods and dark sacrifices
The lightning flashed
and the thunder roared
but not a drop of rain poured
for Rennes-le-Chateau like many spots on this planet would suffer drought and intense heat
this summer of 2015.
And Simon Delaney nephew of famed British archaeologist Sir Cedric Delany
trying to become a notable archaeologist in his own right
was about to open an unmarked grave in the cemetery of Saint Mary Magdalene Church
He had finally got all the necessary paperwork from 3 different levels of French government and bureaucracy- municipal, regional and national to open the grave
as well as the permission of the parish and the diocese,
So now in this place haunted by the ghost of Berenger Sauniere and the greedy Gollums of tourist guides
living off the avails of Dan Brown and conspiracy theorists
he Simon Delaney was about to open an unmarked grave-
a grave he believed would be as significant as Howard Carter's find of Tutankhamun.
But when he opened the grave-
nothing was there-
it was as empty as the inside of a 21st Century Western world church on a Sunday morning.
The old caretaker of the cemetery who looked as if he walked straight off the set of an old Boris Karloff movie
approached carrying a bottle of wine that he sipped from
the caretaker laughed and said the unmarked grave had been opened 3 years ago this summer by a grave robber
who did not bother with the niceties of municipal, regional and national permits
nor with parish and diocesan permission
Rather he had just entered with a shovel on a moonlit night
and started digging
When the previous graveyard caretaker had objected, the grave robber just shot the man (thus leaving a job opening for he the heavy wine drinker to fill) while singing the song from South Pacific that began, "Some enchanted evening..."
When he had finished singing the song and kicking the caretaker's body away, the grave robber began singing a paraphrased version of another song from South Pacific- his own version going like this, "I've got to get this gum right off of my shoe...
Later in the town tavern after digging up the grave, the grave robbing stranger having loaded the body on to a dirigible called The HickingBurp bought drinks for everyone in the house
The stranger said his name was Renfield and he had stolen the body for a friend Dr. Cadbury Rocher
to extract the DNA and make a new creation
And so Simon Delaney left the cemetery a grave stricken man
his dreams turning to dust
"Dust thou art and unto dust thou shalt return".
Someone had stolen the body of the Baphomet
The body of the creature he believed buried there
The creature whose body was found in Jerusalem almost a millennium ago by the Knights Templar
and buried there by Knights Templar who wished to avoid Jacques de Molay's celebrity roast
at the hands of King Philip IV of France
and Pope Clement V.
For what nefarious purpose had this Dr. Cadbury Rocher used the DNA of the Baphomet's body?
Delaney asked himself as he walked by a windswept copy of an old Rolling Stone magazine
whose front cover bore the image of celebrity serial killer Pan Goatee.
An unmarked grave
and no body inside for him to find.
Delaney found himself asking a question once posed by a character in a Flannery O' Connor novel who was sitting in a movie theatre eating popcorn and watching an extremely bad movie,
"What degenerate produced this abortion?".
-A narrative free verse poem
and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday July 22nd
2015.
Sent from my iPhone
Billowing clouds
dark and gray
forming cathedral pillars in the sky
but a dark sinister cathedral
built to receive dark gods and dark sacrifices
The lightning flashed
and the thunder roared
but not a drop of rain poured
for Rennes-le-Chateau like many spots on this planet would suffer drought and intense heat
this summer of 2015.
And Simon Delaney nephew of famed British archaeologist Sir Cedric Delany
trying to become a notable archaeologist in his own right
was about to open an unmarked grave in the cemetery of Saint Mary Magdalene Church
He had finally got all the necessary paperwork from 3 different levels of French government and bureaucracy- municipal, regional and national to open the grave
as well as the permission of the parish and the diocese,
So now in this place haunted by the ghost of Berenger Sauniere and the greedy Gollums of tourist guides
living off the avails of Dan Brown and conspiracy theorists
he Simon Delaney was about to open an unmarked grave-
a grave he believed would be as significant as Howard Carter's find of Tutankhamun.
But when he opened the grave-
nothing was there-
it was as empty as the inside of a 21st Century Western world church on a Sunday morning.
The old caretaker of the cemetery who looked as if he walked straight off the set of an old Boris Karloff movie
approached carrying a bottle of wine that he sipped from
the caretaker laughed and said the unmarked grave had been opened 3 years ago this summer by a grave robber
who did not bother with the niceties of municipal, regional and national permits
nor with parish and diocesan permission
Rather he had just entered with a shovel on a moonlit night
and started digging
When the previous graveyard caretaker had objected, the grave robber just shot the man (thus leaving a job opening for he the heavy wine drinker to fill) while singing the song from South Pacific that began, "Some enchanted evening..."
When he had finished singing the song and kicking the caretaker's body away, the grave robber began singing a paraphrased version of another song from South Pacific- his own version going like this, "I've got to get this gum right off of my shoe...
Later in the town tavern after digging up the grave, the grave robbing stranger having loaded the body on to a dirigible called The HickingBurp bought drinks for everyone in the house
The stranger said his name was Renfield and he had stolen the body for a friend Dr. Cadbury Rocher
to extract the DNA and make a new creation
And so Simon Delaney left the cemetery a grave stricken man
his dreams turning to dust
"Dust thou art and unto dust thou shalt return".
Someone had stolen the body of the Baphomet
The body of the creature he believed buried there
The creature whose body was found in Jerusalem almost a millennium ago by the Knights Templar
and buried there by Knights Templar who wished to avoid Jacques de Molay's celebrity roast
at the hands of King Philip IV of France
and Pope Clement V.
For what nefarious purpose had this Dr. Cadbury Rocher used the DNA of the Baphomet's body?
Delaney asked himself as he walked by a windswept copy of an old Rolling Stone magazine
whose front cover bore the image of celebrity serial killer Pan Goatee.
An unmarked grave
and no body inside for him to find.
Delaney found himself asking a question once posed by a character in a Flannery O' Connor novel who was sitting in a movie theatre eating popcorn and watching an extremely bad movie,
"What degenerate produced this abortion?".
-A narrative free verse poem
and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday July 22nd
2015.
Sent from my iPhone
Sunday, July 19, 2015
Michelangelo's Dream of Donald Trump
Michelangelo's Dream of Donald Trump
As Amadeus Emanon and Renfield R. Renfield watched the program Game of Thrones on the TV set in the office of the Set Enterprises lab, Michelangelo the genetically created psychic lobster was sleeping with his eyes wide open (like he always did) in the laboratory's large salt water tank aquarium.
He was dreaming (having a nightmare actually) of a world where Donald Trump was President of the United States.
In the dream, North Korean dictator Kim Jong-un had sent an elite commando unit of North Korean micro-mini skirted women soldiers to capture U.S. President Donald Trump and hold him as a prisoner of war.
Kim wanted the Presidential access code for America's nuclear missiles so he could use America's own weapons against her in destroying her cities.
After 15 minutes of torture from the elite North Korean female commando unit and President Trump's inability to know either the words or the tune to the North Korean National Anthem, the Donald was soon singing (soprano) like a (high-pitched) canary.
The missiles were then launched and numerous American cities and states were destroyed.
The North Korean women soldiers forced President Trump to watch the whole spectacle on television.
A reality TV cooking show where a celebrity chef was giving his recipe for Baked Alaska was interrupted by visual images of Sarah Palin's home vanishing in the puff of smoke of a huge atomic mushroom cloud.
Once America was destroyed, Kim Jong-un had no further use for Prisoner of War No.00000-00 and ordered him terminated.
After a last meal of Mexican enchiladas which went over like a lead balloon with the Donald, Trump was then taken out to the prison courtyard where the micro-mini skirted North Korean women soldiers were lined-up with their rifles and bayonets.
The slit skirted red dragon emblazoned gold evening dress leader of the commando unit then dropped her sword giving the signal to fire and said in perfect English, "You're fired."
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday July 19th
2015.
Sent from my iPhone
As Amadeus Emanon and Renfield R. Renfield watched the program Game of Thrones on the TV set in the office of the Set Enterprises lab, Michelangelo the genetically created psychic lobster was sleeping with his eyes wide open (like he always did) in the laboratory's large salt water tank aquarium.
He was dreaming (having a nightmare actually) of a world where Donald Trump was President of the United States.
In the dream, North Korean dictator Kim Jong-un had sent an elite commando unit of North Korean micro-mini skirted women soldiers to capture U.S. President Donald Trump and hold him as a prisoner of war.
Kim wanted the Presidential access code for America's nuclear missiles so he could use America's own weapons against her in destroying her cities.
After 15 minutes of torture from the elite North Korean female commando unit and President Trump's inability to know either the words or the tune to the North Korean National Anthem, the Donald was soon singing (soprano) like a (high-pitched) canary.
The missiles were then launched and numerous American cities and states were destroyed.
The North Korean women soldiers forced President Trump to watch the whole spectacle on television.
A reality TV cooking show where a celebrity chef was giving his recipe for Baked Alaska was interrupted by visual images of Sarah Palin's home vanishing in the puff of smoke of a huge atomic mushroom cloud.
Once America was destroyed, Kim Jong-un had no further use for Prisoner of War No.00000-00 and ordered him terminated.
After a last meal of Mexican enchiladas which went over like a lead balloon with the Donald, Trump was then taken out to the prison courtyard where the micro-mini skirted North Korean women soldiers were lined-up with their rifles and bayonets.
The slit skirted red dragon emblazoned gold evening dress leader of the commando unit then dropped her sword giving the signal to fire and said in perfect English, "You're fired."
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday July 19th
2015.
Sent from my iPhone
Friday, July 17, 2015
Diablos Nocturna Detests Vienna Vegan Sausages
Diablos Nocturna Detests Vienna Vegan Sausages
MI-6 Agent Diablos Nocturna was at MI-6 Headquarters with his Canadian CSIS agent liaison Monica Dhaliwal.
For more background on the relationship between Diablos Nocturna and Monica Dhaliwal, please read the following:
https://draculvanhelsing.wordpress.com/2014/09/12/diablos-nocturna-at-the-nato-summit-in-newport-wales/
Diablos and Monica were going through the text of the agreement with Iran on that country's nuclear program that was reached earlier this week with the UN's big 5 powers.
As Diablos read through the agreement, he was feeling more and more sympathy for Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu.
He was also wondering in which Oval Office desk drawer the current American President might have possibly misplaced his brains.
"What do you think?" Monica asked Diablos as she smoothed her skirt.
"Well," Diablos responded, "I remember when Microsoft's Bill Gates came out with Windows 95 back in 1995, people in the know at the time said, "Windows 95 was Mac '87". I think Vienna 2015 is Munich 1938."
-To be continued.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday July 17th
2015.
Sent from my iPhone
MI-6 Agent Diablos Nocturna was at MI-6 Headquarters with his Canadian CSIS agent liaison Monica Dhaliwal.
For more background on the relationship between Diablos Nocturna and Monica Dhaliwal, please read the following:
https://draculvanhelsing.wordpress.com/2014/09/12/diablos-nocturna-at-the-nato-summit-in-newport-wales/
Diablos and Monica were going through the text of the agreement with Iran on that country's nuclear program that was reached earlier this week with the UN's big 5 powers.
As Diablos read through the agreement, he was feeling more and more sympathy for Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu.
He was also wondering in which Oval Office desk drawer the current American President might have possibly misplaced his brains.
"What do you think?" Monica asked Diablos as she smoothed her skirt.
"Well," Diablos responded, "I remember when Microsoft's Bill Gates came out with Windows 95 back in 1995, people in the know at the time said, "Windows 95 was Mac '87". I think Vienna 2015 is Munich 1938."
-To be continued.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday July 17th
2015.
Sent from my iPhone
Thursday, July 16, 2015
Testing The Trinity
Testing The Trinity
O blessed glorious Trinity,
bones to philosophy, but milk to faith,
Which, as wise serpents, diversely
Most slipperiness, yet most entanglings hath...
-A Litany, John Donne
Los Alamos, New Mexico, July 16th 1945 5:30 AM
A huge giant flash of light in the form of a gigantic mushroom cloud beams from the arid New Mexico desert.
As Catholic villagers in the nearby historic Hispanic town of Tularosa crossed themselves, fell to their knees and prayed, fearing the end of the world, the custodians of the Manhattan Project judged the Trinity Test in southern New Mexico a success.
Arising from the half-mile crater at Trinity Site was a being invisible to most- a dark charcoal black winged figure huge in size and a giant in stature.
An ancient being released again upon this earth.
Abaddon the Destroyer.
He had indeed been awakened.
But it had been decreed by the Trinity eons ago that it would take 70 years for Abaddon to regain his full strength.
July 16th 2015 Mid-Town Manhattan NYC7:30 AM (5:30 AM in Los Alamos New Mexico)- a UN diplomat looks out his apartment window and imagines he sees a dark gigantic shadow over the city...
And seems to hear an eerily deep voice that says, "It won't be the Trinity that's tested but man..."
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday July 16th
2015.
Sent from my iPhone
O blessed glorious Trinity,
bones to philosophy, but milk to faith,
Which, as wise serpents, diversely
Most slipperiness, yet most entanglings hath...
-A Litany, John Donne
Los Alamos, New Mexico, July 16th 1945 5:30 AM
A huge giant flash of light in the form of a gigantic mushroom cloud beams from the arid New Mexico desert.
As Catholic villagers in the nearby historic Hispanic town of Tularosa crossed themselves, fell to their knees and prayed, fearing the end of the world, the custodians of the Manhattan Project judged the Trinity Test in southern New Mexico a success.
Arising from the half-mile crater at Trinity Site was a being invisible to most- a dark charcoal black winged figure huge in size and a giant in stature.
An ancient being released again upon this earth.
Abaddon the Destroyer.
He had indeed been awakened.
But it had been decreed by the Trinity eons ago that it would take 70 years for Abaddon to regain his full strength.
July 16th 2015 Mid-Town Manhattan NYC7:30 AM (5:30 AM in Los Alamos New Mexico)- a UN diplomat looks out his apartment window and imagines he sees a dark gigantic shadow over the city...
And seems to hear an eerily deep voice that says, "It won't be the Trinity that's tested but man..."
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday July 16th
2015.
Sent from my iPhone
Wednesday, July 15, 2015
Cthulhu Reborn
Cthulhu Reborn
"When the stars align, Cthulhu will rise again to resume his dominion over the Earth, ushering in an age of unfrenzied abandon. Humankind will be "free and wild and beyond good and evil, with laws and morals thrown aside and all men shouting and reveling and killing in joy."
-Transhumanist Mark Dery
celebrating the rise of H.P. Lovecraft's
Cosmic Monster
"Release the Kraken!"
-Zeus, The Clash of The Titans, 1981
"What happened to an Englishman in the South Pacific the day the U.S. dropped an atomic bomb on Hiroshima was revealed in a poem."
-Diablos Nocturna,
MI-6 Specialist in
investigating the role
of the occult, the paranormal
and the supernatural
in Geopolitics and International
Relations
Here is the poem:
https://draculvanhelsing.wordpress.com/2014/11/04/cthulhu-a-poem/
"All good tales have a sequel."
-Some Hollywood movie producer counting his box office profits after the release of yet another summer blockbuster.
Cthulhu Reborn: A Poem
It was a beautiful day on the South Pacific
a day three friends thought terrific
but as they talked and sailed about
eating buns and sauerkraut
the Kraken followed Medusa who could now walk on water
much to the amazement of a totally lost sea otter
Then Medusa dived beneath the waves
having lost her snake hair, she was fair to gaze
So love-smitten Kraken followed her down
and when he couldn't find her, he wore a frown
Then he saw a red dragon at the bottom of the sea
a dragon with buried heart at wounded knee
And the dragon approached and the two merged into one
a merger that darkened the light of the sun
Transhumanist's dreams and humanity's nightmare had begun.
-A poem written by Christopher
Wednesday July 15th 2015.
Sent from my iPhone
"When the stars align, Cthulhu will rise again to resume his dominion over the Earth, ushering in an age of unfrenzied abandon. Humankind will be "free and wild and beyond good and evil, with laws and morals thrown aside and all men shouting and reveling and killing in joy."
-Transhumanist Mark Dery
celebrating the rise of H.P. Lovecraft's
Cosmic Monster
"Release the Kraken!"
-Zeus, The Clash of The Titans, 1981
"What happened to an Englishman in the South Pacific the day the U.S. dropped an atomic bomb on Hiroshima was revealed in a poem."
-Diablos Nocturna,
MI-6 Specialist in
investigating the role
of the occult, the paranormal
and the supernatural
in Geopolitics and International
Relations
Here is the poem:
https://draculvanhelsing.wordpress.com/2014/11/04/cthulhu-a-poem/
"All good tales have a sequel."
-Some Hollywood movie producer counting his box office profits after the release of yet another summer blockbuster.
Cthulhu Reborn: A Poem
It was a beautiful day on the South Pacific
a day three friends thought terrific
but as they talked and sailed about
eating buns and sauerkraut
the Kraken followed Medusa who could now walk on water
much to the amazement of a totally lost sea otter
Then Medusa dived beneath the waves
having lost her snake hair, she was fair to gaze
So love-smitten Kraken followed her down
and when he couldn't find her, he wore a frown
Then he saw a red dragon at the bottom of the sea
a dragon with buried heart at wounded knee
And the dragon approached and the two merged into one
a merger that darkened the light of the sun
Transhumanist's dreams and humanity's nightmare had begun.
-A poem written by Christopher
Wednesday July 15th 2015.
Sent from my iPhone
Tuesday, July 14, 2015
Amadeus Meets Serena Williams
Amadeus Meets Serena Williams
Amadeus Emanon and Renfield R. Renfield were sitting in the lobby of an elegant 5-star London hotel.
Both men were wearing tuxedos and bow ties.
"So, what are we doing here?" Amadeus asked Renfield.
"Well," Renfield mused, "it's been a while since I've banged a celebrity. Do you remember years ago, I banged all 3 Kardashian sisters underneath a table in a McDonald's in downtown Manhattan?."
"Yes, I remember you got mad at me for eating your Filet o' Fish and French fries while you were busy doing that," Amadeus recalled.
"Anyways," Renfield quickly returned to the subject at hand, "I've got a hankering to bang a celebrity again. And since this is the hotel where many celebrities seem to stay when they're in London, I figure this is the best place to meet one."
"And what am I supposed to do while you're banging a celebrity? Amadeus asked.
"Well, I hear they serve an excellent tea and crumpets in the tea room here," Renfield suggested.
"Whereabouts is the tea room?" Amadeus looked around.
"Oh, my gosh, I think that's actress Gong Li," Renfield noticed a beautiful woman wearing a green evening dress walk into the lobby.
He quickly followed her into the elevator and flashed Amadeus a V for victory sign as the elevator door closed.
Amadeus decided to head off to see if he could locate the tea room on his own.
As he walked down the hall, he suddenly noticed a beautiful woman wearing a white evening gown.
He recognized her as Serena Williams.
"Congratulations Miss Williams," Amadeus bowed as she walked by, "on winning your sixth Wimbledon title and your 21st Grand Slam title."
"Well," Serena smiled, "aren't you the perfect gentleman. And what's your name, my good man?".
"Amadeus Emanon," he bowed again.
"Is that French?" Serena asked.
"Emanon is French," Amadeus replied, "Amadeus is Latin."
"I see, Mr. Amadeus Emanon," Serena smiled again, "and what do you do for a living?".
"I'm a concert pianist," Amadeus answered.
"I see," Serena was quite taken with the shy, quiet, unassuming gentleman,"how would you like to come up to my room and we can make music together?".
"Do you have a piano in your room?" Amadeus asked.
Serena laughed, "Oh no. But we can find other ways to make music."
"Well," Amadeus reflected, "I've only recently begun learning how to play both the harp and the piccolo."
Serena took hold of his hand and led him into the elevator with her.
. . .
Renfield sat in the lobby of the hotel sporting one huge black eye and wondered where the Hell Amadeus had gotten to.
He wasn't in the tea room having tea and crumpets like he was supposed to be doing.
Renfield rubbed his black eye and wondered whether the hotel kitchen might not have some frozen steaks he could put on it.
His encounter with Gong Li had not been successful.
He had discovered that Gong Li's martial arts skills weren't just acting.
It was a good thing for Renfield that he had recently learned the words to the Chinese National Anthem in both Mandarin and Cantonese.
Otherwise his nuts might have been totally crushed beyond all hope of repair.
Amadeus came out of one of the hotel elevators with a huge smile on his face.
Renfield stood up to greet him.
"Where have you been?" Renfield demanded to know.
"I've been learning a new form of music," Amadeus smiled, "one I've never experienced before."
"Is that lipstick on your collar?" Renfield asked.
"Why yes, I guess it is," Amadeus looked down.
"Say that woman who got out of the elevator with you," Renfield pointed in the direction of a woman in a white evening gown going through the hotel's revolving door, "wasn't that Serena Williams?".
"Yes, it was," Amadeus sighed.
"She looked positively glowing," Renfield remarked, "she must still be really happy over her sixth Wimbledon win."
"She might also have other things to glow about as well," Amadeus remarked whose own face was glowing about as red as Michelangelo the psychic lobster when he had undergone an extra dose of radiation down at the Set Enterprises lab.
Renfield looked at Amadeus' glowing face and then looked at Serena Williams' glowing face as she entered a taxi.
"Oh, my God," Renfield sat back on the hotel lobby sofa in a total state of shock.
Amadeus just smiled.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday July 14th
2015.
Sent from my iPhone
Amadeus Emanon and Renfield R. Renfield were sitting in the lobby of an elegant 5-star London hotel.
Both men were wearing tuxedos and bow ties.
"So, what are we doing here?" Amadeus asked Renfield.
"Well," Renfield mused, "it's been a while since I've banged a celebrity. Do you remember years ago, I banged all 3 Kardashian sisters underneath a table in a McDonald's in downtown Manhattan?."
"Yes, I remember you got mad at me for eating your Filet o' Fish and French fries while you were busy doing that," Amadeus recalled.
"Anyways," Renfield quickly returned to the subject at hand, "I've got a hankering to bang a celebrity again. And since this is the hotel where many celebrities seem to stay when they're in London, I figure this is the best place to meet one."
"And what am I supposed to do while you're banging a celebrity? Amadeus asked.
"Well, I hear they serve an excellent tea and crumpets in the tea room here," Renfield suggested.
"Whereabouts is the tea room?" Amadeus looked around.
"Oh, my gosh, I think that's actress Gong Li," Renfield noticed a beautiful woman wearing a green evening dress walk into the lobby.
He quickly followed her into the elevator and flashed Amadeus a V for victory sign as the elevator door closed.
Amadeus decided to head off to see if he could locate the tea room on his own.
As he walked down the hall, he suddenly noticed a beautiful woman wearing a white evening gown.
He recognized her as Serena Williams.
"Congratulations Miss Williams," Amadeus bowed as she walked by, "on winning your sixth Wimbledon title and your 21st Grand Slam title."
"Well," Serena smiled, "aren't you the perfect gentleman. And what's your name, my good man?".
"Amadeus Emanon," he bowed again.
"Is that French?" Serena asked.
"Emanon is French," Amadeus replied, "Amadeus is Latin."
"I see, Mr. Amadeus Emanon," Serena smiled again, "and what do you do for a living?".
"I'm a concert pianist," Amadeus answered.
"I see," Serena was quite taken with the shy, quiet, unassuming gentleman,"how would you like to come up to my room and we can make music together?".
"Do you have a piano in your room?" Amadeus asked.
Serena laughed, "Oh no. But we can find other ways to make music."
"Well," Amadeus reflected, "I've only recently begun learning how to play both the harp and the piccolo."
Serena took hold of his hand and led him into the elevator with her.
. . .
Renfield sat in the lobby of the hotel sporting one huge black eye and wondered where the Hell Amadeus had gotten to.
He wasn't in the tea room having tea and crumpets like he was supposed to be doing.
Renfield rubbed his black eye and wondered whether the hotel kitchen might not have some frozen steaks he could put on it.
His encounter with Gong Li had not been successful.
He had discovered that Gong Li's martial arts skills weren't just acting.
It was a good thing for Renfield that he had recently learned the words to the Chinese National Anthem in both Mandarin and Cantonese.
Otherwise his nuts might have been totally crushed beyond all hope of repair.
Amadeus came out of one of the hotel elevators with a huge smile on his face.
Renfield stood up to greet him.
"Where have you been?" Renfield demanded to know.
"I've been learning a new form of music," Amadeus smiled, "one I've never experienced before."
"Is that lipstick on your collar?" Renfield asked.
"Why yes, I guess it is," Amadeus looked down.
"Say that woman who got out of the elevator with you," Renfield pointed in the direction of a woman in a white evening gown going through the hotel's revolving door, "wasn't that Serena Williams?".
"Yes, it was," Amadeus sighed.
"She looked positively glowing," Renfield remarked, "she must still be really happy over her sixth Wimbledon win."
"She might also have other things to glow about as well," Amadeus remarked whose own face was glowing about as red as Michelangelo the psychic lobster when he had undergone an extra dose of radiation down at the Set Enterprises lab.
Renfield looked at Amadeus' glowing face and then looked at Serena Williams' glowing face as she entered a taxi.
"Oh, my God," Renfield sat back on the hotel lobby sofa in a total state of shock.
Amadeus just smiled.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday July 14th
2015.
Sent from my iPhone
Monday, July 13, 2015
Pan Goatee On The Temple Mount
Pan Goatee On The Temple Mount
Pan Goatee stood on the Temple Mount in Jerusalem.
He took out his reed pipes and started playing the melody of the Hitler Youth Movement.
Standing next to him was the German siren Lorelei dressed in a short skirted German Valkyrie warrioress outfit designed for her by Cosplay fashion designer Yaya Han.
As Pan Goatee played on his reed pipes, the Valkyrie siren Lorelei sang,
... "But somewhere a glory awaits unseen
Tomorrow belongs to me..."
... "The morning will come when the world is mine
Tomorrow belongs to me..."
A severed charcoal burnt Black Hand kept time to the music by tapping the pavement on the ground with his fingers at the top of the Temple Mount.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday July 13th
2015.
Pan Goatee stood on the Temple Mount in Jerusalem.
He took out his reed pipes and started playing the melody of the Hitler Youth Movement.
Standing next to him was the German siren Lorelei dressed in a short skirted German Valkyrie warrioress outfit designed for her by Cosplay fashion designer Yaya Han.
As Pan Goatee played on his reed pipes, the Valkyrie siren Lorelei sang,
... "But somewhere a glory awaits unseen
Tomorrow belongs to me..."
... "The morning will come when the world is mine
Tomorrow belongs to me..."
A severed charcoal burnt Black Hand kept time to the music by tapping the pavement on the ground with his fingers at the top of the Temple Mount.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday July 13th
2015.
Sunday, July 12, 2015
Qonzilqointec In Madrid
Qonzilqointec In Madrid
The streets of Madrid
once capital of an empire
now a living museum
to a past once golden
and a future most bleak
From the balcony of an elegant hotel
a beautiful woman stood and viewed these streets
looking resplendent in a beautiful Spanish red dress
with black laced sleeves
She was the Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec
spiritual goddaughter of the Aztec feathered serpent deity Quetzalcoatl
come to take her vengeance on the descendants of those people who destroyed her godfather's empire
She looked enchanting in the evening sunlight
a vampiress able to take the rays of Sol Invictus
(who generally was an Invincible Conquerer to most vampiric creatures of the night)
but thanks to a special sunblock invented for her by scientist Dr. Cadbury Rocher
she was able to see the light of dawn
as well as the dusk of twilight
and not be dispatched to the waiting shores of the River Styx
awaiting the Charon driven ferry boat of Hades
A tall blonde blue eyed man suddenly stood next to her on the balcony
and gently placed his hand on hers
She looked at him
Dracul Van Helsing
Canadian vampire hunter
who had driven a stake through the heart of many a vampire
but if you were a Vampiress
or at least a beautiful Vampiress
the stake through the heart was only metaphorical
for Dracul Van Helsing had the same effect on beautiful near-immortal vampiresses
as James Bond had on beautiful mortal women
and the result was always a meeting of arms, legs and lips in one enchantingly ocean swirling ode to Eros and Aphrodite
Said she, I thought you had dropped off the face of the Earth when the world supposedly ended December 21st 2012
No, Dracul replied as he gazed at the setting sun and gazed at her glowing face, I only laid me down and rested a while and now I've rose again.
Qonzilqointec smiled a smile most sensuous, I recall you doing the same thing that night we crossed the Rio Grande of Aztec and Mayan prophecy and opened the boundaries of cosmic Aphrodite.
Dracul laughed
He remembered he and Qonzilqointec had engaged in a night of passionate love making that night of December 21st 2012
Had the world really changed as a result of that enchanted evening where man and Vampiress had become one?
The lips of Qonzilqointec and Dracul Van Helsing once again touched
a cosmic kiss of sun and moonlight
on a warm Madrid night.
-A narrative free verse erotic poem
written by Christopher
Sunday July 12th 2015.
Sent from my iPhone
The streets of Madrid
once capital of an empire
now a living museum
to a past once golden
and a future most bleak
From the balcony of an elegant hotel
a beautiful woman stood and viewed these streets
looking resplendent in a beautiful Spanish red dress
with black laced sleeves
She was the Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec
spiritual goddaughter of the Aztec feathered serpent deity Quetzalcoatl
come to take her vengeance on the descendants of those people who destroyed her godfather's empire
She looked enchanting in the evening sunlight
a vampiress able to take the rays of Sol Invictus
(who generally was an Invincible Conquerer to most vampiric creatures of the night)
but thanks to a special sunblock invented for her by scientist Dr. Cadbury Rocher
she was able to see the light of dawn
as well as the dusk of twilight
and not be dispatched to the waiting shores of the River Styx
awaiting the Charon driven ferry boat of Hades
A tall blonde blue eyed man suddenly stood next to her on the balcony
and gently placed his hand on hers
She looked at him
Dracul Van Helsing
Canadian vampire hunter
who had driven a stake through the heart of many a vampire
but if you were a Vampiress
or at least a beautiful Vampiress
the stake through the heart was only metaphorical
for Dracul Van Helsing had the same effect on beautiful near-immortal vampiresses
as James Bond had on beautiful mortal women
and the result was always a meeting of arms, legs and lips in one enchantingly ocean swirling ode to Eros and Aphrodite
Said she, I thought you had dropped off the face of the Earth when the world supposedly ended December 21st 2012
No, Dracul replied as he gazed at the setting sun and gazed at her glowing face, I only laid me down and rested a while and now I've rose again.
Qonzilqointec smiled a smile most sensuous, I recall you doing the same thing that night we crossed the Rio Grande of Aztec and Mayan prophecy and opened the boundaries of cosmic Aphrodite.
Dracul laughed
He remembered he and Qonzilqointec had engaged in a night of passionate love making that night of December 21st 2012
Had the world really changed as a result of that enchanted evening where man and Vampiress had become one?
The lips of Qonzilqointec and Dracul Van Helsing once again touched
a cosmic kiss of sun and moonlight
on a warm Madrid night.
-A narrative free verse erotic poem
written by Christopher
Sunday July 12th 2015.
Sent from my iPhone
Saturday, July 11, 2015
Pan Goatee Interviewed On TV Show
Pan Goatee Interviewed On TV Show
KRTV Channel 3 Announcer: Live from Great Falls, Montana, it's the Russell Charlie Show and now here's our host... Russell Charlie.
(A man wearing a 10 gallon tan cowboy hat, purple leather vest, cowboy tie, denim jeans and leather cowboy boots strolls on to the stage waving his hat and waving his hands)
Russell Charlie: Howdy y'all, ladies and gentlemen. How ya doing?
(Audience shouts in unison, "We're great, Rusty!". Rusty of course being Russell Charlie's nickname)
Rusty: Today, of course, we have a special guest who's come all the way from Washington, D.C. ...
(Audience starts booing)
Rusty: Now, we must be hospitable. After all that's the way of the Great American West. We give you food, give you drink and then we'll plug you full of holes with our six shooters.
(Audience laughs)
Rusty: Washington D.C. is of course the town where rodeos go all year round... they're always throwing the bull.
(Audience laughs)
Rusty: And today our special guest from Washington D.C. is not a politician...
(Audience cheers)
Rusty: He's a serial killer who currently works as a contract hired assassin for the U.S. government... Ladies and gentlemen... I give you...Mr. Pan Goatee.
(The audience cheers, applauds and gives a standing ovation as the genetically created half-man half- goat satyr with furry goats' legs and hooves comes on stage)
(Pan Goatee waves at the audience, gives Rusty a big hug and then sits down in one of the chairs reserved for the show's guests)
Rusty (looking at Pan Goatee's very furry legs): Those are quite the pair of chaps you're wearing.
Pan Goatee (looking down with pride at his furry legs) : Thanks. They're actually real.
Rusty: You mean to say that your legs are actually that hairy?
Pan Goatee: Yes, they are.
Rusty: Well, eat my ten gallon hat and then spit it out again. What did your mother feed you as a baby- Budweiser beer laced with testosterone?
Pan Goatee: Well according to a gypsy fortune telling reading I got in London by a gypsy fortune teller who read her crystal ball, her tarot cards, my tea leaves and my furry palms, I was not born in the regular manner. I was genetically created in a research lab somewhere in England by a sanity-challenged scientist and then I was lost shortly after my test-tube birth.
Rusty: Well, that explains everything then. Because if you had said you'd been fed by your mother with Budweiser beer laced with testosterone as a baby and furthermore if you had said you had been breast fed with that formula, I would have asked where I could get my hands on such a magnificent pair of knockers.
(Audience laughs)
Pan Goatee: No, according to the gypsy fortune teller, I was created by this sanity-challenged scientist using a combination of human DNA - which of course explains my upper body torso- goat DNA - which explains my furry legs and also hooves for feet- and yeti abominable snowman DNA- which explains my homicidal tendencies as well as my ability to astral project.
Rusty: Wow. You can actually astral project? Cool.
Pan Goatee: Yes, I can astral project.
Rusty: I tried to astral project myself once after reading one of those AMORC California Rosicrucian Order pamphlets but the furthest I got was to the outhouse.
Pan Goatee: Really?
Rusty: Yes and since my astral body didn't really have to relieve itself, that really didn't do me much good.
(Audience laughs)
Rusty: Now if I could have just made it as far as the whore house up the road, I could really have seen what my astral body might be capable of.
Pan Goatee: Tantric sex can get pretty wild when you start using your astral bodies.
Rusty: Really?
Pan Goatee: Oh yes. (crosses his legs to cover up his erection as he subconsciously recalls a recent experience)
Rusty: Now I understand you appeared on the cover of Rolling Stone magazine a month before Pope Francis did.
Pan Goatee: That's right. I did. So stick that in your thurible incense burner and smoke it, Pope Francis.
(The audience, many of whom had invested in the oil and gas industry, applauded vigorously)
Rusty: Now I understand it was reality TV star and singer Tila Tequila who interviewed you on behalf of Rolling Stone magazine?
Pan Goatee: Yes, it was. As you know her door swings both ways and so after the interview she and I and a Japanese-American porn actress named Akira Lane had a ménage a trois in a penthouse atop a Beverly Hills hotel- the same room where they filmed the 1990 Julia Roberts-Richard Gere movie Pretty Woman.
Rusty: Really?
Pan Goatee: Yes, unbeknownst to the three of us, that mischievous shapeshifting hamster/human Renfield R. Renfield from England secretly videotaped our bedroom escapades and then projected them onto a screen that Al Gore was using as a backdrop to a speech he was giving on the man-made causes of global warming.
Rusty (astounded): Really?
Pan Goatee: Yes it was probably that particular lecture that served as a major subconscious factor in Al Gore's decision not to seek the Democratic Presidential nomination in 2016.
Rusty: Now in that Rolling Stone interview with Tila Tequila, you described yourself as the most intelligent serial killer in history. What led you to that conclusion?
Pan Goatee: Well of course that's something I say with all due modesty and humility. I am the most intelligent serial killer in history.
Rusty : And on what basis did you reach that humble modest conclusion?
Pan Goatee: Well when you take a look at the history of serial killers and particularly look at photos of their female victims, they killed a lot of beautiful women. Of course when I was just a young pup or a young kid to be more accurate- just fresh out of the genetics lab test tube (according to my gypsy fortune teller Dulcinea Lucia's tarot card reading of my past), I was quite young and naive. I must admit I did kill beautiful women (and beautiful men as well) when I first began my serial killing hobby which I found a lot more interesting than stamp collecting.
Rusty: And then something happened?
Pan Goatee: Yes, I had an epiphany. An epiphany of what it means to be a practitioner of the philosophy of aesthetics. The same epiphany that the Crown Prosecutor in the criminal trial of Oscar Wilde must have experienced when he asked Wilde on the witness stand why he didn't kiss the waiter in the hotel and Oscar Wilde replied, "Because he was too ugly."
Rusty: So what was the nature of this epiphany?
Pan Goatee: The thought came to me out of the blue while I was reading Nietzsche on the differences between Apollonian and Dionysian religion. This thought like a voice from Mount Olympus said to me, "What are you doing killing beautiful women?" There are already too little beautiful women in the world and too many ugly women. Womanhood in the 21st Century have allowed their looks to go to pot as a result of the efforts of that obnoxious bitch Oprah Winfrey in her so-called self-help and so-called self-esteem confidence building TV shows saying that ugly women should just be themselves- a more offensive piece of advice I cannot recall if I may be allowed to paraphrase that most beloved and wisest of all American letter carriers and U.S. postal employees Norman Newman.
(The audience in the Great Falls television studio gives Pan Goatee a standing ovation over his last remark)
Pan Goatee: So then I started strictly killing ugly women as a result of that Nietzchean- Apollonian- Oscar Wildean epiphany.
Rusty: And if I may quote a psychiatrist, how did that make you feel?
Pan Goatee (grinning): Wonderful.
(Audience applauds and cheers)
Pan Goatee: And thus it came to pass that I stopped killing beautiful women... and killed only ugly women... thus making me the most intelligent serial killer in history.
(He holds up his membership card in MENSA as audience applauds)
Pan Goatee: Yes, after all according to the Georgia Guidestones Commandments that were erected in Elbert County, Georgia 35 years ago, the First Commandment says words to the effect that we shall not have a human population above 500 million on the planet so that we can live forever in perfect balance and harmony with nature and Mother Earth Gaia. Only when that happens will we finally have achieved Pierre Teilhard de Chardin's Omega Point.
Rusty: Chardin? Is that the French fashion designer who invented the bubble dress?
Pan Goatee: No, he was a French Jesuit priest, scientist and philosopher who thought we'd all become gods someday.
Rusty: I see. I once met a Mormon missionary who told me much the same thing.
Pan Goatee: Anyways since according to the Georgia Guidestones Commandments, we're going to have to eliminate 6.5 billion people... although personally I think we should make it 6.6 billion since I think that's a more nifty sounding number... then why shouldn't we include ugly women in that 6.6 billion figure? After all, ugly women... well they're ugly . So I say get rid of them.
If we're going to have to eliminate 6.6 billion people, there's no reason why we can't also beautify the planet while we're doing so and make this earth a much more enjoyable place to live. So I say, let's start reducing the population by getting rid of the ugly women first.
(Shouts of "Amen" and "You got it brother" and "Pastor Rick Warren should invite you to speak at Saddleback Church" are heard coming from members of the audience)
Pan Goatee: So, I say our mantra should be...
... Way hey, ho- ho
ugly women have got to go...
(Audience breaks into shouts of "Way hey, ho-ho, ugly women have got to go")
Rusty: Well, I see the show's producer is signaling to me from the booth that we're out of time... so thanks for being our guest today Pan and hopefully you'll be back soon...
Pan Goatee (smiling and enjoying the audience's standing ovation): It's been my pleasure, Rusty. Perhaps you'll teach me how to fire a real western six-shooter someday since I've always wanted to learn ever since I saw my first John Wayne movie.
(The show's repulsively ugly looking female producer is signaling to the guy at the control switch to turn off transmission from the studio cameras that are panning in on the cheering and standing ovation audience. But seeing as how the guy at the control switch is wearing a blindfold so he doesn't have to look at the female producer's ugly face, he is unable to see the signal and the transmission is not cut)
-A screenplay
and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday July 5th
2015.
Kill all fucking ugly women!
And may they burn in Hell forever!
-Pan Goatee in his unpublished work on the environment and earth beautification
Earth and Apollonian Beauty In The Balance: Going Beyond Al Gore and Oprah Winfrey
Sent from my iPhone
KRTV Channel 3 Announcer: Live from Great Falls, Montana, it's the Russell Charlie Show and now here's our host... Russell Charlie.
(A man wearing a 10 gallon tan cowboy hat, purple leather vest, cowboy tie, denim jeans and leather cowboy boots strolls on to the stage waving his hat and waving his hands)
Russell Charlie: Howdy y'all, ladies and gentlemen. How ya doing?
(Audience shouts in unison, "We're great, Rusty!". Rusty of course being Russell Charlie's nickname)
Rusty: Today, of course, we have a special guest who's come all the way from Washington, D.C. ...
(Audience starts booing)
Rusty: Now, we must be hospitable. After all that's the way of the Great American West. We give you food, give you drink and then we'll plug you full of holes with our six shooters.
(Audience laughs)
Rusty: Washington D.C. is of course the town where rodeos go all year round... they're always throwing the bull.
(Audience laughs)
Rusty: And today our special guest from Washington D.C. is not a politician...
(Audience cheers)
Rusty: He's a serial killer who currently works as a contract hired assassin for the U.S. government... Ladies and gentlemen... I give you...Mr. Pan Goatee.
(The audience cheers, applauds and gives a standing ovation as the genetically created half-man half- goat satyr with furry goats' legs and hooves comes on stage)
(Pan Goatee waves at the audience, gives Rusty a big hug and then sits down in one of the chairs reserved for the show's guests)
Rusty (looking at Pan Goatee's very furry legs): Those are quite the pair of chaps you're wearing.
Pan Goatee (looking down with pride at his furry legs) : Thanks. They're actually real.
Rusty: You mean to say that your legs are actually that hairy?
Pan Goatee: Yes, they are.
Rusty: Well, eat my ten gallon hat and then spit it out again. What did your mother feed you as a baby- Budweiser beer laced with testosterone?
Pan Goatee: Well according to a gypsy fortune telling reading I got in London by a gypsy fortune teller who read her crystal ball, her tarot cards, my tea leaves and my furry palms, I was not born in the regular manner. I was genetically created in a research lab somewhere in England by a sanity-challenged scientist and then I was lost shortly after my test-tube birth.
Rusty: Well, that explains everything then. Because if you had said you'd been fed by your mother with Budweiser beer laced with testosterone as a baby and furthermore if you had said you had been breast fed with that formula, I would have asked where I could get my hands on such a magnificent pair of knockers.
(Audience laughs)
Pan Goatee: No, according to the gypsy fortune teller, I was created by this sanity-challenged scientist using a combination of human DNA - which of course explains my upper body torso- goat DNA - which explains my furry legs and also hooves for feet- and yeti abominable snowman DNA- which explains my homicidal tendencies as well as my ability to astral project.
Rusty: Wow. You can actually astral project? Cool.
Pan Goatee: Yes, I can astral project.
Rusty: I tried to astral project myself once after reading one of those AMORC California Rosicrucian Order pamphlets but the furthest I got was to the outhouse.
Pan Goatee: Really?
Rusty: Yes and since my astral body didn't really have to relieve itself, that really didn't do me much good.
(Audience laughs)
Rusty: Now if I could have just made it as far as the whore house up the road, I could really have seen what my astral body might be capable of.
Pan Goatee: Tantric sex can get pretty wild when you start using your astral bodies.
Rusty: Really?
Pan Goatee: Oh yes. (crosses his legs to cover up his erection as he subconsciously recalls a recent experience)
Rusty: Now I understand you appeared on the cover of Rolling Stone magazine a month before Pope Francis did.
Pan Goatee: That's right. I did. So stick that in your thurible incense burner and smoke it, Pope Francis.
(The audience, many of whom had invested in the oil and gas industry, applauded vigorously)
Rusty: Now I understand it was reality TV star and singer Tila Tequila who interviewed you on behalf of Rolling Stone magazine?
Pan Goatee: Yes, it was. As you know her door swings both ways and so after the interview she and I and a Japanese-American porn actress named Akira Lane had a ménage a trois in a penthouse atop a Beverly Hills hotel- the same room where they filmed the 1990 Julia Roberts-Richard Gere movie Pretty Woman.
Rusty: Really?
Pan Goatee: Yes, unbeknownst to the three of us, that mischievous shapeshifting hamster/human Renfield R. Renfield from England secretly videotaped our bedroom escapades and then projected them onto a screen that Al Gore was using as a backdrop to a speech he was giving on the man-made causes of global warming.
Rusty (astounded): Really?
Pan Goatee: Yes it was probably that particular lecture that served as a major subconscious factor in Al Gore's decision not to seek the Democratic Presidential nomination in 2016.
Rusty: Now in that Rolling Stone interview with Tila Tequila, you described yourself as the most intelligent serial killer in history. What led you to that conclusion?
Pan Goatee: Well of course that's something I say with all due modesty and humility. I am the most intelligent serial killer in history.
Rusty : And on what basis did you reach that humble modest conclusion?
Pan Goatee: Well when you take a look at the history of serial killers and particularly look at photos of their female victims, they killed a lot of beautiful women. Of course when I was just a young pup or a young kid to be more accurate- just fresh out of the genetics lab test tube (according to my gypsy fortune teller Dulcinea Lucia's tarot card reading of my past), I was quite young and naive. I must admit I did kill beautiful women (and beautiful men as well) when I first began my serial killing hobby which I found a lot more interesting than stamp collecting.
Rusty: And then something happened?
Pan Goatee: Yes, I had an epiphany. An epiphany of what it means to be a practitioner of the philosophy of aesthetics. The same epiphany that the Crown Prosecutor in the criminal trial of Oscar Wilde must have experienced when he asked Wilde on the witness stand why he didn't kiss the waiter in the hotel and Oscar Wilde replied, "Because he was too ugly."
Rusty: So what was the nature of this epiphany?
Pan Goatee: The thought came to me out of the blue while I was reading Nietzsche on the differences between Apollonian and Dionysian religion. This thought like a voice from Mount Olympus said to me, "What are you doing killing beautiful women?" There are already too little beautiful women in the world and too many ugly women. Womanhood in the 21st Century have allowed their looks to go to pot as a result of the efforts of that obnoxious bitch Oprah Winfrey in her so-called self-help and so-called self-esteem confidence building TV shows saying that ugly women should just be themselves- a more offensive piece of advice I cannot recall if I may be allowed to paraphrase that most beloved and wisest of all American letter carriers and U.S. postal employees Norman Newman.
(The audience in the Great Falls television studio gives Pan Goatee a standing ovation over his last remark)
Pan Goatee: So then I started strictly killing ugly women as a result of that Nietzchean- Apollonian- Oscar Wildean epiphany.
Rusty: And if I may quote a psychiatrist, how did that make you feel?
Pan Goatee (grinning): Wonderful.
(Audience applauds and cheers)
Pan Goatee: And thus it came to pass that I stopped killing beautiful women... and killed only ugly women... thus making me the most intelligent serial killer in history.
(He holds up his membership card in MENSA as audience applauds)
Pan Goatee: Yes, after all according to the Georgia Guidestones Commandments that were erected in Elbert County, Georgia 35 years ago, the First Commandment says words to the effect that we shall not have a human population above 500 million on the planet so that we can live forever in perfect balance and harmony with nature and Mother Earth Gaia. Only when that happens will we finally have achieved Pierre Teilhard de Chardin's Omega Point.
Rusty: Chardin? Is that the French fashion designer who invented the bubble dress?
Pan Goatee: No, he was a French Jesuit priest, scientist and philosopher who thought we'd all become gods someday.
Rusty: I see. I once met a Mormon missionary who told me much the same thing.
Pan Goatee: Anyways since according to the Georgia Guidestones Commandments, we're going to have to eliminate 6.5 billion people... although personally I think we should make it 6.6 billion since I think that's a more nifty sounding number... then why shouldn't we include ugly women in that 6.6 billion figure? After all, ugly women... well they're ugly . So I say get rid of them.
If we're going to have to eliminate 6.6 billion people, there's no reason why we can't also beautify the planet while we're doing so and make this earth a much more enjoyable place to live. So I say, let's start reducing the population by getting rid of the ugly women first.
(Shouts of "Amen" and "You got it brother" and "Pastor Rick Warren should invite you to speak at Saddleback Church" are heard coming from members of the audience)
Pan Goatee: So, I say our mantra should be...
... Way hey, ho- ho
ugly women have got to go...
(Audience breaks into shouts of "Way hey, ho-ho, ugly women have got to go")
Rusty: Well, I see the show's producer is signaling to me from the booth that we're out of time... so thanks for being our guest today Pan and hopefully you'll be back soon...
Pan Goatee (smiling and enjoying the audience's standing ovation): It's been my pleasure, Rusty. Perhaps you'll teach me how to fire a real western six-shooter someday since I've always wanted to learn ever since I saw my first John Wayne movie.
(The show's repulsively ugly looking female producer is signaling to the guy at the control switch to turn off transmission from the studio cameras that are panning in on the cheering and standing ovation audience. But seeing as how the guy at the control switch is wearing a blindfold so he doesn't have to look at the female producer's ugly face, he is unable to see the signal and the transmission is not cut)
-A screenplay
and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday July 5th
2015.
Kill all fucking ugly women!
And may they burn in Hell forever!
-Pan Goatee in his unpublished work on the environment and earth beautification
Earth and Apollonian Beauty In The Balance: Going Beyond Al Gore and Oprah Winfrey
Sent from my iPhone
Tuesday, July 7, 2015
Raven of Doom: A Poem
Raven of Doom: A Poem
A raven flew down to the Temple Mount
and shrieked so long, one lost count
The time has come, the raven said, for the downfall of many kings,
as people pursue gold and silver and all such precious things
as each man's Inner Self becomes like Gollum clutching The Lord of The Rings
It flew above the Dome on the Rock,
Ye worship God? What a crock!
The al-Aqsa Mosque
is Tempest tossed
The Western Wall
contains Herod's gall
Hate has replaced love in this City of Peace that's bred much war
Open the Gates! Summon the Fates!
Cast wide open the door!
The Kraken awakes! The City quakes!
The hour has now come!
Foolish man, you'll find nowhere to run!
-A poem written by Christopher
Tuesday July 7th 2015.
A raven flew down to the Temple Mount
and shrieked so long, one lost count
The time has come, the raven said, for the downfall of many kings,
as people pursue gold and silver and all such precious things
as each man's Inner Self becomes like Gollum clutching The Lord of The Rings
It flew above the Dome on the Rock,
Ye worship God? What a crock!
The al-Aqsa Mosque
is Tempest tossed
The Western Wall
contains Herod's gall
Hate has replaced love in this City of Peace that's bred much war
Open the Gates! Summon the Fates!
Cast wide open the door!
The Kraken awakes! The City quakes!
The hour has now come!
Foolish man, you'll find nowhere to run!
-A poem written by Christopher
Tuesday July 7th 2015.
Sunday, July 5, 2015
Haiku About The Hour of Yeats' Rough Beast
Haiku About The Hour of Yeats' Rough Beast
Slouching away from
Bethlehem is the rough Beast
already been born
Slouching away from
Bethlehem is the rough Beast
already been born
Friday, July 3, 2015
Pan Goatee In Athens
Pan Goatee In Athens
Genetically created half-man half goat satyr serial killer and contract assassin Pan Goatee was walking the streets of Athens, Greece.
Pan was seeing what chaos he could create in this already chaotic situation that was unfolding in Greece.
What inspired him to come here was a dream he had the night before where he was standing outside the walls of ancient Troy and he saw Paris (the lover of Helen of Troy) standing beneath the Trojan Horse and looking up and shouting, "Hey Ulysses, I really think it's time you come down off your high horse."
As Ulysses did so, he forgot to use the ladder and took the quick way down instead.
An action which resulted in his death.
To say nothing of his brains being bashed out and splattered all over the ground.
The goddess Athena appeared and wept.
Ulysses had been one of her favourite mortals.
For as a member of the female sex, it had been her experience that thinking was an action that most males were totally unfamiliar with.
And the fact that Ulysses had made much use of his cerebral processes had sent her the goddess of wisdom into many an orgasm.
As Athena kneeled there weeping over the death of Ulysses and bewailing her loss of orgasms in the foreseeable future, Pan Goatee googled on his Samsung Galaxy smart phone recipes for cooking brain stew.
That's when he woke up.
He astral projected himself to Athens to see what chaos he could wreak.
He shapeshifted into the appearance of German Chancellor Angela Merkel and stood there sticking his tongue out and making fun of Greek citizens queing in a long line up at one bank ATM machine.
He then went to another ATM machine at another bank around the corner where there was another long que of Greek citizens anxious to get money.
This time he shapeshifted into the appearance of Greek Prime Minister Alexis Tsipras and stuck his tongue out and made fun of those standing there.
Back in his air conditioned hotel room over an ice cold cocktail, Pan Goatee enjoyed a good laugh over the Angela/Alexis impersonations he had performed at numerous long bank ques throughout Athens.
It should make for an interesting result in next Sunday's referendum, Pan Goatee thought to himself.
To be continued.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday July 2nd
2015.
Sent from my iPhone
Genetically created half-man half goat satyr serial killer and contract assassin Pan Goatee was walking the streets of Athens, Greece.
Pan was seeing what chaos he could create in this already chaotic situation that was unfolding in Greece.
What inspired him to come here was a dream he had the night before where he was standing outside the walls of ancient Troy and he saw Paris (the lover of Helen of Troy) standing beneath the Trojan Horse and looking up and shouting, "Hey Ulysses, I really think it's time you come down off your high horse."
As Ulysses did so, he forgot to use the ladder and took the quick way down instead.
An action which resulted in his death.
To say nothing of his brains being bashed out and splattered all over the ground.
The goddess Athena appeared and wept.
Ulysses had been one of her favourite mortals.
For as a member of the female sex, it had been her experience that thinking was an action that most males were totally unfamiliar with.
And the fact that Ulysses had made much use of his cerebral processes had sent her the goddess of wisdom into many an orgasm.
As Athena kneeled there weeping over the death of Ulysses and bewailing her loss of orgasms in the foreseeable future, Pan Goatee googled on his Samsung Galaxy smart phone recipes for cooking brain stew.
That's when he woke up.
He astral projected himself to Athens to see what chaos he could wreak.
He shapeshifted into the appearance of German Chancellor Angela Merkel and stood there sticking his tongue out and making fun of Greek citizens queing in a long line up at one bank ATM machine.
He then went to another ATM machine at another bank around the corner where there was another long que of Greek citizens anxious to get money.
This time he shapeshifted into the appearance of Greek Prime Minister Alexis Tsipras and stuck his tongue out and made fun of those standing there.
Back in his air conditioned hotel room over an ice cold cocktail, Pan Goatee enjoyed a good laugh over the Angela/Alexis impersonations he had performed at numerous long bank ques throughout Athens.
It should make for an interesting result in next Sunday's referendum, Pan Goatee thought to himself.
To be continued.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday July 2nd
2015.
Sent from my iPhone
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