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Monday, December 5, 2011
The Origin of My Species
Vampirism chose me. I didn't choose it. But however it came about, here I am, out and in the open. This is my story.
Whether you believe me or not is your choice. Mine is only to tell you. Do not ask me to make you a vampire. Do not ask me to turn you or to embrace you. Vampires are chosen. If you are meant to be a vampire, then you too will be chosen. Do not force the hand of fate in this matter. You cannot imagine the agonies of the soul you will suffer.
To begin with--that seems so trite, and yet it's so fitting--I was born somewhere in the Kingdom of the Franks in the year 778. It was the year of Karlos Magnus' shame in the southwest mountains. I joined the ranks of the vampires when I was no more than ten years of age. My father had begun speaking on my marriage and I was of no mind to perish in childbirth as my mother had. The vampires offered me a kind of safety in that vampire women could not conceive children. Thus my father offered me up as a barren sacrifice.
That's right. I was an unwanted child in an unknown peasant family. Wealth and infamy were not mine by birthright. In fact I had to suffer through three marriages to wrinkled old men who spat on me for my infertility until I turned 25. At that point, I was becoming an old woman even though the vampire strains in me kept me looking youthful. I engaged the vampires around me to perform the Rite of Attainment--that exchange of energies that would fix my age at 25 for all time.
There was no returning to a normal pastoral existence after that. But I had learned that gold spoke with more power than anything--even sons. If I was going to enjoy immortality, I needed to get some gold. I did have physical beauty and charm in my favor. With luck, I could manage to set myself up in marriage with wealthy, aging men who would be so enamored of me and the great care I took with them that they would bequeath all their goods to me. After a few marriages I was able to purchase my own lands and my own keep.
Believe me when I tell you that I paid quite a price to amass my riches!
The world changed around me and I remained the same. I'm no one famous in what you would call history. So far as I remember I had one brush with history in serving (as opposed to serving with) the army under Jeanne la Pucelle. Gilles de Rais still owes me a few gold coins.
We vampires have needed to lay low in order to survive. When the wars over religion and the bite of the devil were felt all through Europe, our lives became distinctly uncomfortable. Think about it. So many innocent people lost their lives--and we were hardly innocent. I thought about going into the Osmanli Empire and trying to sell myself as a qualified slave--at least I would be safe. I could do a lot worse.
Eventually I heard about the new land discovered across the ocean, a land wild but for the most part tolerant. Naturally I had a little unease about travelling and settling with Puritans--not that I was religious at all, but I was certainly no Puritan. Then I thought of the opportunities awaiting a creature like myself in a new land. I made my way to England, learned to appear outwardly Puritan, and sailed west.
It wasn't long before I was playing old tricks to survive--marrying dying old men for their wealth. The game was simple enough. Generally they kept quiet, but if they had thoughts of exposing me...well, you get the idea.
I've been in Philadelphia since the Constitutional Convention. My friends have come and gone, and still this seems as good a place for a historical relic as any. In the late twentieth and dawning twenty-first centuries it has become relatively easy to be a vampire in the open. I actually fit into the groups I live in now.
Never in my life have I known love. I have known loyalty, friendship, kindness, pleasure, and affection. But my heart sits in ice. I often wonder whether I am able to experience love. Time is running out for me.
What happens next? I am going to pass on December 22, 2012, along with the rest of the world. Do not fear it. This is a destiny written in the stars when the earth was still cooling, long before humanity existed. You will go on to other existences and so will I.
This is my tale, such as it is.
Whether you believe me or not is your choice. Mine is only to tell you. Do not ask me to make you a vampire. Do not ask me to turn you or to embrace you. Vampires are chosen. If you are meant to be a vampire, then you too will be chosen. Do not force the hand of fate in this matter. You cannot imagine the agonies of the soul you will suffer.
To begin with--that seems so trite, and yet it's so fitting--I was born somewhere in the Kingdom of the Franks in the year 778. It was the year of Karlos Magnus' shame in the southwest mountains. I joined the ranks of the vampires when I was no more than ten years of age. My father had begun speaking on my marriage and I was of no mind to perish in childbirth as my mother had. The vampires offered me a kind of safety in that vampire women could not conceive children. Thus my father offered me up as a barren sacrifice.
That's right. I was an unwanted child in an unknown peasant family. Wealth and infamy were not mine by birthright. In fact I had to suffer through three marriages to wrinkled old men who spat on me for my infertility until I turned 25. At that point, I was becoming an old woman even though the vampire strains in me kept me looking youthful. I engaged the vampires around me to perform the Rite of Attainment--that exchange of energies that would fix my age at 25 for all time.
There was no returning to a normal pastoral existence after that. But I had learned that gold spoke with more power than anything--even sons. If I was going to enjoy immortality, I needed to get some gold. I did have physical beauty and charm in my favor. With luck, I could manage to set myself up in marriage with wealthy, aging men who would be so enamored of me and the great care I took with them that they would bequeath all their goods to me. After a few marriages I was able to purchase my own lands and my own keep.
Believe me when I tell you that I paid quite a price to amass my riches!
The world changed around me and I remained the same. I'm no one famous in what you would call history. So far as I remember I had one brush with history in serving (as opposed to serving with) the army under Jeanne la Pucelle. Gilles de Rais still owes me a few gold coins.
We vampires have needed to lay low in order to survive. When the wars over religion and the bite of the devil were felt all through Europe, our lives became distinctly uncomfortable. Think about it. So many innocent people lost their lives--and we were hardly innocent. I thought about going into the Osmanli Empire and trying to sell myself as a qualified slave--at least I would be safe. I could do a lot worse.
Eventually I heard about the new land discovered across the ocean, a land wild but for the most part tolerant. Naturally I had a little unease about travelling and settling with Puritans--not that I was religious at all, but I was certainly no Puritan. Then I thought of the opportunities awaiting a creature like myself in a new land. I made my way to England, learned to appear outwardly Puritan, and sailed west.
It wasn't long before I was playing old tricks to survive--marrying dying old men for their wealth. The game was simple enough. Generally they kept quiet, but if they had thoughts of exposing me...well, you get the idea.
I've been in Philadelphia since the Constitutional Convention. My friends have come and gone, and still this seems as good a place for a historical relic as any. In the late twentieth and dawning twenty-first centuries it has become relatively easy to be a vampire in the open. I actually fit into the groups I live in now.
Never in my life have I known love. I have known loyalty, friendship, kindness, pleasure, and affection. But my heart sits in ice. I often wonder whether I am able to experience love. Time is running out for me.
What happens next? I am going to pass on December 22, 2012, along with the rest of the world. Do not fear it. This is a destiny written in the stars when the earth was still cooling, long before humanity existed. You will go on to other existences and so will I.
This is my tale, such as it is.
Sunday, December 4, 2011
The Six Wives of Henry VIII
I created these interpretations of the infamous half dozen using an amazing image generator at Azalea's Dress Up Dolls .
Katharine of Aragon
Wife #1
Divorced/annulled
Anne Boleyn
Wife #2
Falsely accused and beheaded
Anne/Anna of Cleves
Wife #4
Outlived Henry to live as a wealthy woman
Katharine Howard
Wife #5
Guilty enough for nine wives and beheaded
Katharine Parr
Wife #6
Outlived Henry
Belsnickel, Krampus, and the Dark Side of Yuletide
I'm starting with this, since before today these were things totally unknown to me.
From Wikipedia:
Krampus is a mythical creature. In various regions of the world – especially Austria and Hungary – it is believed that Krampus accompanies St. Nicholas during the Christmas season, warning and punishing bad children, in contrast to St. Nicholas, who gives gifts to good children. Due to German and Austrian influence, the myth of Krampus is also prevalent in Croatia, Slovakia, Slovenia and northern Italy. The word Krampus originates from the Old High German word for claw (Krampen). In the Alpine regions, Krampus is represented by a demon-like creature. Traditionally, young men dress up as the Krampus in the first two weeks of December, particularly on the evening of 5 December, and roam the streets frightening children and women with rusty chains and bells.[1] In some rural areas the tradition also includes birching – corporal punishment with a birch rod – by Krampus, especially of young girls. Images of Krampus usually show him with a basket on his back used to carry away bad children and dump them into the pits of Hell. Modern Krampus costumes consist of Larve (wooden masks), sheep's skin, and horns. Considerable effort goes into the manufacture of the hand-crafted masks, and many younger adults in rural communities compete in the Krampus events. In Oberstdorf, in the alpine southwestern part of Bavaria, the tradition of der Wilde Mann ("the wild man") is kept alive. He is like Krampus in that he is dressed in fur and frightens children (and adults) with rusty chains and bells, but has no horns, and is not an assistant of Saint Nicholas. In the aftermath of the Austrian Civil War the Krampus tradition was a target of Austrian Fascists allied with Nazi Germany.
I've seen Krampus referred to as the Christmas Devil. I think it's apt.
Check out Krampus.com for more!
From Wikipedia:
Krampus is a mythical creature. In various regions of the world – especially Austria and Hungary – it is believed that Krampus accompanies St. Nicholas during the Christmas season, warning and punishing bad children, in contrast to St. Nicholas, who gives gifts to good children. Due to German and Austrian influence, the myth of Krampus is also prevalent in Croatia, Slovakia, Slovenia and northern Italy. The word Krampus originates from the Old High German word for claw (Krampen). In the Alpine regions, Krampus is represented by a demon-like creature. Traditionally, young men dress up as the Krampus in the first two weeks of December, particularly on the evening of 5 December, and roam the streets frightening children and women with rusty chains and bells.[1] In some rural areas the tradition also includes birching – corporal punishment with a birch rod – by Krampus, especially of young girls. Images of Krampus usually show him with a basket on his back used to carry away bad children and dump them into the pits of Hell. Modern Krampus costumes consist of Larve (wooden masks), sheep's skin, and horns. Considerable effort goes into the manufacture of the hand-crafted masks, and many younger adults in rural communities compete in the Krampus events. In Oberstdorf, in the alpine southwestern part of Bavaria, the tradition of der Wilde Mann ("the wild man") is kept alive. He is like Krampus in that he is dressed in fur and frightens children (and adults) with rusty chains and bells, but has no horns, and is not an assistant of Saint Nicholas. In the aftermath of the Austrian Civil War the Krampus tradition was a target of Austrian Fascists allied with Nazi Germany.
I've seen Krampus referred to as the Christmas Devil. I think it's apt.
Check out Krampus.com for more!
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