23rd January 2023

There are two distinct ways to windsurf. The first is in an aggressive manner, tacking often and sharply, driving hard into the teeth of the wind, retaining a tight sail, a style that ensures a kind of battering reminiscent of a thoroughly disconcerting ride upon an ancient and wobbly Blackpool mouse themed carnival ride. The much more serene alternative is to relax, enjoy both view and steady progress with an air of endless gratitude for the intense pleasure such a wondrous experience can administer to psyche and soul.

The second alternative did always seem to me far more preferable, much like relaxed snowboarding do feed, all the finest of pleasure components without the risk of any unnecessary harm or fright befalling.

Weather as not a force to be trifled with, and both snowfall and wind are easily capable of causing severe injury and inconvenience to what is comparatively the very feeble human physique. Picking the most suitable opponents is a great skill, one to be carefully honed throughout the span of a well-structured lifetime.

22nd January 2023

For the longest time I was horribly capable of saying too much, rather loudly, with a lot of seeming authority,  much about nothing important at all, a  canvas blank of import, substance, except for the glorification of mine own hollow words and paraphrase’s. We humans are excellent at pontificating, lecturing, suggesting or more correctly insisting that others follow our lead, our very forceful suggestions.  Quite accidentally, or perhaps coincidentally, we are truly lax in our the ability to listen, to study another’s chain of thought, their incisiveness, opinions, considerations. Much of the time conversation is but a one way street,   a most unfortunate state of affairs if any form of common ground or committed fraternity is to be achieved.

Most surreal that the ability to talk should become a moat of negativity barring meaningful interaction, fermenting disharmony, feeding misunderstanding, offence, and social distancing.  

My appreciation for silence grows exponentially, ‘tis indeed golden, most affirming, coalescing, homogenizing.

21st January 2023

Just imagine you wake to suddenly to realize, to appreciate, that everything that has transpired on your life in the last twenty-four hours has been inexplicably connected, arranged, planned, by a mysterious but overwhelming force that has, to you now certain knowledge, a design in place for all that will continue to unravel moving forward. That your illusion of free will is just totally imaginary, you are in reality but a puppet those strings move, or simply twitch, at the whim of a supreme controller.

You laugh, shrug, think to yourself that this is a stupid idea, and stretching you hand outwardly coincidently touch the very object that is needed to commit to the immediately following happening of in the grand plan. Outside your home you can hear the weather building, moving unstoppably towards exactly the day you know it will be, with every nuisance, exactitude, obliging the need for every item of clothing you will be forced to illustrate, like some Parisian catwalk model, for a noticeably surprised universe outside your small, secure abode, moving unhesitatingly forward towards your now fated goal, and its foreseeable consequences.  

20th January 2023

Sleeping always seemed a terrible waste of time, interrupting the more important things, a loss of consciousness in a very inconvenient moment. I do not ever really remember feeling tired, weary yes, sore after a hectic day’s physical assault, maybe, but too tired to continue wakefulness, never.  

Slumber has grown on me over the years, become a time for relaxation, rest, without the need to apologize, or make excuses, an accepted way to distance myself from having to compete, with anyone, or anything, just let go of the oars and let the boat drift aimlessly.

Perhaps I was accustomed to trying too hard, taking too much weight upon my shoulders, accepting a feeling of responsibility for events quite beyond my pervue. ‘Twas a common fault with all my peers, taking the lead, guiding any followers studiously, professionally, purposefully.

I well remember the wondrous relief when I finally let the reins slip from my grip, just leaned back and sighed, allowing the team to prance and strut where it might, paying no heed to the confusion, just letting go.

19th January 2023

The amazing thing about shaggy dog stories it that the beast will invariably travel full circle to arrive back to lay upon exactly the same stained piece of carpet that the mutt departed from    so very long ago. The tale will deviate occasionally to remain suitably vague, but the careful listener will notice the slightest discrepancy in detail and store that knowledge against the assured forthcoming distorted revisions.

I have a mountainous aversion to falsehood, a dislike based upon lifetimes experience with verbal perfidiousness.  Some fabrication, invention, we are obliged to accept as unavoidable misspeak, but a constant barrage of such concoction points to a lack of courteousness, respect, that is beyond acceptable bounds. Under such provocative circumstances any form of required recompence will be vast, and highly unlikely to erase the original offence, insult.

There is a wonderful expression in the English language about revenge being a response best served cold. I have a wonderous freezer full of preprepared goodies for such circumstances.

18th January 2023

Obsession and ambition   are a dangerous combination, particularly when driven by a deep need to make a singular mark within the annals of history. Leaps of faith are taken, dangers ignored, advices cast aside,  patent truths corrupted by an  insistence on following the unconventional path no matter how extreme the possible consequences.  The misguided scientist might perceive illusion as reality, an abstract side effect as a direct   consequence, place the desire for discovery above the sanctity of existing knowledge.

Victor Frankenstein is the ideal example of a worthy soul lost upon the impossible quest for a complete understanding of the intricacies the relationship between base humanity and the universe.   

A brilliant scholar, a doctor of medicine of some distinction, he allowed himself to follow a false promise, that  electrical stimulus was the originator of the spark of life prevalent wherever he looked. We can now fully appreciate his concept was very close to the breakthrough he desired, but so very far away from the actuality of creation.   

17th January 2023

The vampires natural companion is the werewolf, also a changeling, with similar predatorial skills, but whose appetite stretches to flesh as well as simple gore. Both historically originate from the Carpathian mountainous regions and are damned creatures without any hope of being saved or any meaningful form of redemption.

The werewolf begats transformation under the glare of the new moon, that magical orb drawing forth the vile and violent monster that otherwise lays hidden beneath the veneer of an everyday human being, quite often a quiet gentle soul whose possessed state flies hard against their natural born characteristics.  The only guaranteed way to bring an end to such a creature is a terminal wound from a silver bullet, cast for ideal effect from the melted remnants of a consecrated Roman Catholic crucifix.

The keen hunter of both devilish breeds will necessarily have many such religious trinkets to hand, for a rood can prove equally efficient at temporarily holding a less powerful vampire at bay for some short measure of time.

16th January 2023

‘It is with great sadness that the publishers of the multifarious works a works by the author are obliged to insist that any writings originating from that unfortunately poisoned pen that that person   should cease and desist from being further spread, and any of the unfortunate words and illustrations already in existence are forthwith ordered utterly destroyed for fear of the probable most unfortunate consequences of availability.’

So read a notice published the within the hallowed pages of the Times newspaper on the twenty second of December in the cursed year of our Lord seventeen ninety-five. The fierce blaze that gutted the mansion on Putney Waters but few months previous was of course still fresh in the minds of the three-pence paying purchasers of that well honored rag. Any real effect  that such a highly inflammable warning had upon an audience thirsting for rumor or gossip  about the most recent paragon of highest society, and the  strange and unnatural  circumstances that had swept  him violently from fame to   the lowest shame and  ignominy, was unsurprisingly of little meaningful consequence.

15th January 2023

Prince Dracula committed offenses to enforce terror and obedience with a casualness than decries any belief in natural empathy, the Red Queen does the same amongst her subjects and playing cards equally unthinking. Life, or exactly death more exactly, has no meaning or real value beyond the proof of their ultimate power and unnatural willingness to expunge life quite forcibly upon a simple whim, a fleeting impulse.

Prince and Queen would appear to savor their ability to judge and meet out justice with great affection, using their capital discretion freely and with visible  satisfaction. Dracula favors feasting amidst the impaled bodies of his newest victims, their screams of pain seemingly aiding his digestion, whilst the Red Queen, perhaps less visually bloodthirsty, leaves the headsman to perform his decapitating craft in her immediate wake.

The sharing of a trail of victims would seem to be a most conspicuous similarity, that one is horror real, the over surreal fiction much less meaninful. Humanities fascination with bloody mayhem shines from both exemplars.

14th January 2023

There is no single historical suggestion that Vlad III Dracula was a Godless man, indeed he was widely perceived as the savior of Orthodox Christianity in the face of the extreme threat of Muslim domination by the mighty Ottoman sultanate. There can be no doubt that he would have toyed with the thought of conversion during his long childhood political internment at the court of Murad II in Constantinople, such a simple switch would have much improved his conditions and standing, no proof of any such consideration has evidentiary merit.

‘Twas during his confinement within the Topkapi Palace that the streak of cruelty already present within such a precocious offspring began to produce the buds that would eventually blossom into his infamous excess of barbarity. Fifteenth century Transylvania was a dark despotic land, but even so was brightest sunlight compared to the devious and dastardly happenings daily inflicted within the confines of the Otteman capitals many minarets, mosques, and voluminous dungeons. Vlad arrived a somewhat sorely prince but left an Impaler.