Dave Stancliff

The Gods Last Meeting

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Celestial music. Clear blue skies. Trees and flowing rivers heavy with fish.

A gentle breeze tickles the grass meadows where the gods are gathering. Their colorful flowing robes mimic exotic butterflies.

They’re coming from every culture in earth’s history to the Elysian Fields to attend an emergency meeting. The site had more room than the Christian God’s Heaven, Seven Heavens, Tian, and Valhalla.

The atmosphere is electric with powerful energies. A mighty horn blast suddenly gets everyone’s attention. All eyes fall on Odin as he walks into the center of the gathering. His one good eye ablaze with emotion:

“I’m sorry to say we’re all going to be forgotten by mankind soon. Every book about us will turn to dust. Every story will be forgotten. No one will ever call upon our names again in times of need.”

Zeus stood up and asked, “Who dares to threaten the gods!”

“Mankind,” Odin replied.

“How so?” Aphrodite asked.

“First off, let me say all of our fates are not the same. Allah, Jesus, the Christian God, Vishnu, Shiva, and Devi still have many believers who worship them. The dwindling pagan population in the 21st century however, is barely enough to preserve the rest of us.”

“What about scholars? They read about us. They know of our numerous followers,” Chalchiuhtlicue asked.

“The scholars get fewer by the day,” Odin explained. “Our real problem is that mankind is turning away from all religions. The ones that still exist are fighting a daily battle that is going badly for them.”

“How can this be?” Horus asked. “Mankind has always needed us.”

Hsi-Wang-Mu rose from his sitting position and stretched. “Has this not always been a concern?” he calmly asked.

“You speak the truth,” Poseidon agreed. “Why should we worry now?”

Odin looked at his fellow gods and a trace of sadness momentarily crossed his face.

“I didn’t arrive at this observation alone. For years Apollo, Mercury, Frigg, Isis, Thor, Venus, and I, have been studying these modern humans. They are rejecting the idea of a higher power.”

“But like you said Odin, they still believe in some gods, and we are still living in libraries worldwide,” Athena pointed out.

“The gods that are still openly worshipped have been losing followers at a rate never seen before in history. As for libraries, they too are becoming a thing of the past,” Odin said.

“Then this is our last meeting,” Dionysus said, after sipping his wine.

“It appears that way,” Fortuna agreed. “Our luck has run out.”

As It Stands, where do you turn when in crisis or seeking solace?

All Aboard the Soul Train!

A dimly lit train station surrounded by darkness.

Flickering souls, like giant fireflies, waiting impatiently. They hover around the loading platform. A train’s whistle breaks the silence…

“Step right up folks! Have your holo-tickets ready. No shoving or cutting into line now,” an old man with a conductor’s hat on, called out.

The train took off into the vast darkness, its steel wheels humming like celestial music. Inside, two souls were deep in conversation:

“That sure was close,” the first soul, whose name was Rosco, said with a sigh of relief. “If it wasn’t for those extra points I earned giving up my life for those kids, I think I would have gotten a one-way trip to hell.”

“Don’t be too confident now. We still face challenges before making it to Heaven,” the second soul, whose name was Harry, pointed out.

“You’re right, of course. We still have three trials to face before getting our wings,” Roscoe agreed.

“My first ticket is to a place called Agincourt, on October 25th, 1415, during the Hundred Years War,” Harry said.

“What’s your new name?” Roscoe politely asked.

“Peter Archer, I’m a long bowman for King Henry V.”

“My new name is Albert McColloch, and I’m a bystander at the OK Corral shootout in Tombstone, Arizona, on October 26, 1881,” Roscoe said, after closely scanning his holo-ticket stub.

“Looks like you’ll be getting off this train after me if the stops are chronological,” Harry observed.

“I hate to admit it,” Roscoe said, “but I was a politician in my old life.”

“That explains your close call for getting the tickets.”

“I know,” Roscoe confessed. “I’m sure grateful that I qualified for the Karma program and got these opportunities to show why I’ll make a good angel.”

“Next stop coming up!” the conductor’s voice suddenly rang out.

Harry stood up and stretched.

“Agincourt!” the conductor announced.

“Good luck to you Roscoe. I hope to see you in heaven some day,” Harry said before hurrying down the narrow aisle to the open door.

Roscoe watched him leave and the conductor close the door. He looked out into the darkness and prayed that he wouldn’t run for mayor of Tombstone.

As It Stands, souls, and what happens to them, are one of my favorite themes.

Beware the Treacherous Tides of Titan

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Surfers from the Milky Way and the Andromeda Galaxy are drawn to the tides of Titan, Saturn’s largest moon, like moths.

Considered the most treacherous tides in two galaxies, it is a must ride for any surfer who had aspirations of making a name for himself (or herself) to shoot the tube on Titan’s Tides.

In a recent issue of Solar Surfers, some of the dangers were described in chilling details. For those unaware of the challenges, Titan’s oceans are full of carnivorous creatures ranging in size from an inch to four-hundred feet long.

The article, a first-hand account from a Mercurian surfer who survived a full ride, warned that lone predators, like the foot-long Teethers, wait until they see a surfer waiting a long time for a clean-up set to attack.

Decisiveness was crucial, the article emphasized.

Buzz, considered one of the three best surfers on Earth, set his copy of Solar Surfers down and checked the official drone provided by The Inter-Space Surfing Federation for validation.

Without the drone recording him it didn’t matter what he did…no one would ever know if he put on a spectacular show.

After registering his DNA with the drone he picked up his long board and walked towards the distant waves. The golden sand beneath his feet glittered beneath the blue Titan sky. A small patch of purple clouds gathered in the north.

Buzz looked up at the clouds and thought about the article he just read. It pointed out his best chances for avoiding sea creatures was during the short light cycle – a period of three hours of daylight.

He checked his waterproof wrist computer. Everything looked good. The water was pleasantly warm as he paddled out.

The waves were jacking as he rose with each swell. The hallow and intense waves grew higher as he paddled on. Then he was beyond the waves and paddling on a calm sea. The water around him shimmered with all the colors of a rainbow on Venus.

But he knew he had to make a move soon. He paddled back and forth impatiently trying to spot a clean-up set. Waves so immense they had no equal in two solar systems. Then he saw what he wanted.

The purple clouds were now overhead. Buzz wasn’t aware of that, his eyes were riveted to a spot deep behind the peak of a massive hollow wave. Man and board shot through the wave’s tube to the other side of the peak!

He was riding pigdog, clutching the board with both hands, when he made a powerful sweeping move that allowed him to establish even more speed and go in the direction he wanted. Towards the shore. The drone, faithfully recorded the heart-stopping ride.

He didn’t feel the first strike when he was waist deep in the water walking towards the shore. He grabbed his board feebly when the second, and third strike, took away the lower half of his body!

The drone meanwhile recorded Buzz’s last moments. It was programed to return in four hours to the Inter-Space Surfing Federation headquarters. When it arrived, the Director viewed the film – like so many others – and confirmed his death, time, and place.

Having to contact the family was the hardest part of the Director’s job. Surprisingly, most of the families said the same thing, “Well…he died doing what he loved the most.”

As It Stands, I was thinking of rock climbers here on earth when I wrote this piece.

Adventure of a Lifetime: See Jeb

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Raleigh, North Carolina

“Okay, my friends! It’s time to put your backpacks on and to follow me!”

Seven people dressed for a long hike fell into an irregular line behind their guide Jeb Brewster, III. Four men, and three women. All city-slickers. All wearing expensive new gear and clothing.

All out for a big adventure.

“North Carolina is the Pine Tree State,” Jeb said, as he led his clients deeper into a narrow forest pathway.

“We have eight different kinds of pine. My favorite is those loblolly pines on your right.” Nine pairs of eyes briefly swiveled to the right. Thus far, Jeb was the only one talking which wasn’t unusual.

Finally, the woman just behind Jeb asked, “How long until we set up camp?”

“Another hour,” Jeb replied.

There were more than 5,500 acres of woodlands inside the city’s Outer Loop, and Jeb knew them all like the back of his hand. He was raised in these wild woods. His family, the Brewster’s lived in Raleigh since 1800.

Jeb came from a long line of famous guides, and trackers. His reputation brought in a steady flow of clients. He charged more than any of the other local guides, but promised an adventure of a lifetime.

He refused to take a client who wasn’t in good physical shape. He made his clients sign contracts that they would not sue him if something went wrong on the four-day excursion.

Jeb called for a 10-minute break for anyone who had to void their bladder. It was a good time to sit for a short spell. Jeb had set a brutal initial pace to make sure they made it to the first clearing to camp out before night fall.

The group sat around a fire Jeb built and smoked weed. They laughed, ate food, and told scary stories late into the night. Jeb listened, but didn’t contribute to the story-telling. He quietly sipped on a silver flask filled with homemade moonshine.

A Red Wolf howled as the group settled down for the night. Two raccoons watched them from the concealment of the debris on the forest floor. A Bobcat slowly approached the fire but suddenly ran away when Jeb threw a rock at it.

The pace was slower the next day. They were in Cherokee territory when Jeb began pointing out small monuments, and grave sites off the beaten trail. He talked to them about how the white man almost wiped the Cherokee off the face of the earth.

On the second night they camped out near a running stream. This time the group built the bonfire. After listening to the group tell their stories for awhile Jeb spoke up, “I’ve got a story for you folks.”

The little group turned their full attention on Jeb.

“My kin have been up here for over 200 years. The first Brewster to enter these parts befriended the Cherokee people. We even intermarried. My mother was mostly Cherokee. Through all of these years we’ve hunted these woodlands.

“Heck! We still enjoy hunting, but we’ve been running out of game for the last twenty years.”

One of the men coughed, and then passed his pipe to the woman next to him.

“That’s why I decided to start my own guide business. City folk like adventures in the wild and like I told you from the onset, I’ll provide you with the experience of a lifetime. If you live through it, you’ll agree.”

Nine worried sets of eyes latched onto Jeb. “What the hell?” one man asked.

Then the group saw them. They were wearing traditional war paint and carried tomahawks. Their leader came up to Jeb…and they hugged.

“Joseph says he’ll give you a lead,” he told the group. “You have until daylight. If you bear north you just might make it back to Raleigh!”

As It Stands, traditionally native Americans have got the short end of the stick. I thought I’d reverse that for once.

Welcome to the 2320 Milky Way Olympics

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“Hello! I’m Stu Jones, and the guy sitting next to me is Jerry Rider, welcoming you to the 2320 Milky Way Olympics!”

Stu: “Well Jerry, is there one planet that stands out to you? A sure pick to dominate in these games?”

Jerry: “No. It’s too close between the big three; Earth, Mars, and Jupiter. These three planets continue to invest heavily in their athletes.”

Stu: Speaking of athletes, who are the top runners?”

Jerry: Earth is going with last year’s winner, Shaun Silverton. Mar’s has an exciting and upcoming runner in Vis Opti. Jupiter’s entry, Pah Zee, has improved his times since finishing 2nd overall in the 2316 Games.

But I got to tell you Stu, the runner to watch for is Els Xeen from Saturn. He’s got the longest legs among all the contestants. He’s new to running, but is catching on fast. This is his first Olympic appearance.”

The crowd in the enormous stadium suddenly broke out into cheers. Athletes from all the planets in the solar system solemnly walked out in colorful groups. When they had all taken up their place the crowd grew silent.

The Games Commissioner, Gart Vita from Mercury, welcomed everyone from her skybox above.

“Greetings! Peace! The Milky Way Board of Commissioners thanks you for attending and entering your greatest athletes in these time-honored Games.”

She waited patiently until the roars of applause died down.

“We must never forget that these Games bring us together as a solar system. The bonds we forge here aren’t forgotten as we communicate and trade with each other in peace. Our safety and futures depend upon the open flow of cultures and species.

Now, let the Games begin!”

Crowd roaring.

Jerry: As always, it’s good to be here.

Stu: I want to let our viewers know that there’s been a rule change in the Boxing category. Those contestants that have more than two arms, are now going to be handicapped with heavier gloves and small weights around their ankles/tentacles.

Other than that, everything remains the same.”

Jerry: Thanks Stu. I can’t wait to see the 500-pound Heavyweight Division. Is anyone every going to beat Mej Hei Mon from Neptune?

Stu: I doubt it Jerry. I think you could drive your LX Space Cruiser right into him and he wouldn’t blink! You know what I’m looking forward to watching?”

Jerry: “That’s easy, Gymnastics. Any special reason why for these Games? You always do.”

Stu: “I’ve got information from my sources that there’s going to be a credible threat to Mar’s 2316 winning gymnastics team. As you know they put on a masterful performance and experts are predicting they’ll do the same this time.

But..the Venusians have come up with several totally (from what I hear uninhibited) routines that are mesmerizing species across the solar system!”

As It Stands, Olympics, humor, and a path to peace. How much better can it get?

A Visit To A Pet Store on Uranus

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Pet Paradise, Ganth Mall,

Iloth, Uranus, circa 3210

“Fetch! Good boy!”

“That’s when to start them,” Lord Veturan complimented the trainer/trader Daid-Et.

“Three-year-olds can be very trainable with the right routines.”

The little boy went over and sat at massive Lord Veturan’s feet, waiting for a treat. The Jarian Knight pulled out a thick cookie from a bag hanging from his side, and tossed it to the boy who deftly caught it with his mouth.

“Now off with you Ra Ra!” Daid-Et told the boy, as he skipped off with his cookie.

“What breed is he again?”

“Asian, my Lord. Comes from good stock. He’s got the blood of a couple of Chinese emperors of note.”

“But what kind of pet will he make?”

“A very entertaining one, My Lord, his breed is famous for their acrobatic powers and willingness to obey any command.”

“When will he be for sale?

“In one more year, great lord.”

“What else have you got that’s ready to go right now?” Lord Veturan inquired.

“Thank you for asking Lord. I have a set of twins from earth’s Zion Park in Utah, USA. They’re nine-years old and have had all of their shots.”

“Males, or females?”

“Males. They’ve were neutered two years ago and are very calm. They have good bone structure and will surely be very strong. Here’s their cage. Ne Ne…Obo…wake up! You have visitors!”

The two boys stood up while trying to wipe the sleep from their eyes.

“I see what you mean. Good bone structure. What kind of pets do they make?”

“The best, wise Lord. They’re known for their loyalty, strength, and playful disposition. As you know, twins are very hard to find these days.”

“How much?” Lord Veturan asked.

“For you kind sir, a mere 300 Uranium Qutreels.”

“You old bandit! Here’s 200 Uranium Qutreels. Have them delivered to my ship before nightfall.”

On the way back home to Saturn, Lord Veturan watched the two boys playfully wrestling over a toy he tossed to them. He thought about his wife and what a great birthday present he was bringing her.

He was hopeful they would live longer than the her last pet, who only made it sixty years. It was hard to part with the lovable beasts. They were almost like family.

As It Stands, humans could make good pets…with a little training.

Why Egyptians Left Pluto To Go To Earth

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From the Notes of the Royal Scribe, Cneas Na:

“In the pages of the Milky Way Chronicles you can find where Egyptians once lived on the icy dwarf planet Pluto.

Yes, it’s true.

Their technology allowed them to survive underground in one of the coldest places in the solar system, at roughly minus 375 degrees Fahrenheit.

Always industrious, the first Egyptians had created an atmosphere that could sustain life. They lived in massive domed colonies that were temperature controlled and had oxygen.

It took a million years for the first Plutonians to evolve and control their atmosphere. Their early engineers and scientists were worshipped by following generations. Then the cults emerged and began fighting with one another.

Once famous for their tolerance, Plutonians broke into factions ruled by dictator-like priests. Each cult demanded that it’s followers facefully serve the priests demands without question.

But there was one cult that still valued the freedom to speak, and to be treated as an equal. It’s followers had the smartest scientists and engineers on the dwarf planet.

There came a time when the cult decided that they were tired of living underground because of the bitter cold surface of Pluto. They also didn’t want to get involved in the increasing hostilities between the other cults.

The chronicles note that a great space craft was built and the members of the cult arrived on earth during the final part of the Neolithic period beginning c. 6000 BC. Their arrival corrisponded with what earth historians call the Naqada III period in Egypt.

The Plutonians quickly adapted to the language of the desert nomads and farmers alongside the Nile River in Upper Egypt.

During this time in history, sometimes called the “Zero Dynasty” the Plutonians referred to themselves as Egyptians.

In the time which followed prehistoric Egypt and coalesced around 3150 BC (according to conventional Egyptian chronology) Upper and Lower Egypt became united under (once Plutonian) Menes.

Some historians refer to him as Narmer.

Menes was the first of the builders to bury sections of the great space craft that originally brought them to earth, beneath large mounds. His successors built the Spinx, and the Pyramids, to permanently guard the sacred ship’s six sections.

Some modern day historians and archelogists believe that the Egyptians had help from aliens to build their mighty monuments.

But, they are belittled by their peers who are afraid of admitting that there are other intelligent beings in the solar system.

I wonder if they’ll ever find out the truth?”

As It Stands, the truth is out there!

Sacrifice Day For Venus

Venus, 2208

A hundred years had passed since Venus lost the war against Mars.

Once a year, during the Harvest season, a Martian enforcer squad comes to The Great Hall of Aphrodite to collect the Sacrifice.

The Sacrifice, was 70 young Venusian females; one from every nation on Venus. They were wrapped in golden cloaks worth a tidy sum in Martian markets. It was a day of mourning for all Venusians; especially for the parents of the women taken.

As always, the leaders of the nations met after the Sacrifice, hoping to come up with a way to stop losing women every year. The leaders, men and women, always gathered at the Temple of Venus to talk.

The floor and walls were milky white marble from earth. Their tall slender Venusian reflections danced across the floor, chased by shadows cast from the setting sun. They glided gracefully across the marble like dancers, as the Venusians moved around the room in clusters of conversations.

Finally, when the moons came out, they adjourned the meeting with no solutions.

That night, a young woman asked her father, who was one of the leaders, how far would they go to stop the Martians from annually plundering their planet? The father, puzzled by the question, asked her what she meant?

“If we must send sacrifices, why not tainted ones that could destroy all life on Mars?”

The father, who’d been sitting, stood up and approached his daughter. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“Martians have no resistance against our diseases. No more than we have of theirs.”

The import of what his daughter was saying made him sad, but hopeful too. “Do you purpose to ask for volunteers for this deadly mission?”

“No. We’ll use the regular lottery system to decide the 70 who will be infected,” she said.

After a special meeting two days later the die was cast.

The scientists decided which virus to use. They also agreed not to give it to the women until the night before the Sacrifice. It would only take 24-hours before becoming deadly to the host, and whoever was near them.

There was no cure.

Meanwhile, the 70 women selected were treated like the heroines they were. Every door to every convenience on Venus was open to them. Strangers asked for their autographs.

There was no worry that the Martians would get wind of their plans because they had become lax during the last couple of decades. They didn’t even have representatives or spies to monitor the Venusians anymore.

Venus was considered the arm-pit of the solar system to Martians who hated having to spend any time there.

When time for the next Sacrifice came the Venusians were ready. The Martians who escorted the women to the space cruiser idly noticed that there were no cries of mercy from the women or the crowd that had gathered.

Their contempt for the peaceful Venusians pushed away any warning signs from their minds.

As It Stands, this my warped version of a space David and Goliath story.

Doctor Dark and Mr. Moore’s Case of a Lifetime

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Alternate Earth, Circa 2017

London, England

“If we take one more case about spying on cheating spouses, I’m quitting!”

“Easy, Doctor Dark, there are reasons why we take those cases. They pay well, and we have certain expenses…like rent and food, that we must met,” Mr. Moore explained.

“Well, I’m sick of them. Can’t we work with Scotland Yard?”

“We could, I imagine, if they wanted us. But they don’t.”

“And, why not?”

“For two reasons; the first is your background – you’ve been arrested numerous times for public drunkenness you sot. That doesn’t set too well with those blokes. The second reason is they don’t even pay as much as our “domestic” cases do.”

“Damn,” Doctor Dark uttered in a subdued voice.

“Chin up old boy, I may be onto something big. Our contact in Scotland Yard said there’s a murderer roaming the streets of London who has easily eluded authorities for three months now.”

“How’s that? I’ve seen nothing about a serial killer on the news?”

“Apparently, he’s so clever that he makes each murder look like the victim died from an accident, or by natural causes. It was a stroke of pure luck that the authorities even found out about the Mastermind Killer.”

“Mastermind Killer. Quite a sobriquet for a cold-blooded murderer,” Doctor Dark observed.

“Quite so. I have a summary of the murders, dates, times, locations, and detectives notes here,” Mr. Moore said, as he handed a thick file to Doctor Dark.

The two would-be criminal sleuths spent all of their spare time investigating the Mastermind Killer. Days turned to weeks, as they tirelessly roamed the city streets at all hours.

Finally, there was a breakthrough.

They witnessed a cloaked figure purposely throw a woman over a balcony. One moment the two were standing on the balcony of the five-story apartment complex across the street; the next, the woman was silently falling to her death, making a sickening thud on the cobblestones.

The killer wasn’t aware of them, as they lingered in the shadows watching him. Minutes later a cloaked figure came out of the apartment complex and started walking towards them.

At the last moment they jumped out and tackled the tall figure. Then something strange happened. As Mr. Moore pulled on the cloak in an attempt to get a better grip, it gave way and revealed an alien being!

Despite their shock, both men used their combined weight to hold the alien down. It’s pupiless black eyes blinked in anger and surprise. It’s skin was translucent, showing a complex network of veins and odd-looking internal organs.

“Blinking hell! Mr. Moore! What are we going to do with this thing?”

“Hold on…I’m going to put handcuffs on it.”

Once that was accomplished, they stood the alien up and duck-walked him to their van. It was an old modified paddy wagon that still had one bench seat, and a set of shackles wielded into the side behind it.

Doctor Dark sat directly across from the alien on the salvaged back seat of a 1960 Cadillac they bought in a rummage sale.

“We’ll interrogate this bloke when we get home,” Mr. Moore said, as he pulled out onto the street and accelerated.

Once inside the house they took the handcuffed alien down to the basement and hooked him up to a device around his thin neck that looked like a bark collar for yappy mutts.

“Cheerio! Time to use your translation software Doctor.”

A bank of computers suddenly came alive behind Doctor Dark. He adjusted some dials, pushed a couple of buttons, and turned the speaker system on.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Kiss my tushie!” the alien rudely replied.

“Now there! There’ll be none of that. You see those metal rings on your ankles? I can flip a switch…like this (the alien screeched in pain) or you can be civil.”

Tears ran down the alien’s black eyes and it stuttered a response, “Whatever you say master.”

“Why are you running around killing humans? Shouldn’t you be in space somewhere?”

“I was a stowaway on the Martian Cruise Ship that offers tours of the planets in the Milky Way. The passengers were allowed to step outside the ship, according to international protocols, for ten minutes to experience your atmosphere.

“Just my luck that one of the crew members checked the baggage hold where I was hiding. I managed to get past him and ran outside. I didn’t stop running until I found this place.”

So that doesn’t tell use why you’re going around killing people,” Mr. Moore said.

“It’s all I know,” the alien explained. “I’m wanted on three planets for multiple murders. What else was I going to do?”

“This won’t do at all! Doctor, throw that switch again, and let’s see how long it takes to electocute this monster!”

The next day.

“It’s not my fault that the body melted into a bloody mess,” Doctor Dark contended.

“No one is going to believe us now. We could have been famous.” Mr. Moore moaned.

As It Stands, my sorry slueths may be back again some day.

How Vampires Managed To Get In The Movies

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Vampires tried to make movies as far back as the 1800’s.

The French are credited with making the first ever movie film.

It was titled “The Waterer Watered,” and came out the same year as a group of vampires attempted to make a movie (the working title was, The Dark Count) in 1895.

The earliest known surviving motion picture is a French movie called :Roundhay Garden Scene,” filmed on October 14th, 1888. The earliest known all vampire production was made on September 9, 1988.

Titled “Vampire in Venice” this breakthrough movie was about a professor who visits Venice, to investigate the last known appearance of the famous vampire Nosferatu during the carnival of 1786.

It was a great case of type-casting because the newly created production company, “Lost Souls in Paradise Studios” was able to sign the real Nosferatu to play the lead part.

It wasn’t until then, that vampires were able to figure out how to get their images on film. A breakthrough in technology allowed them to use a series of filters in conjunction with a software program that reconstructed their images accurately.

Thanks to those enterprising individuals, vampires were able to share their work with the world.

The resulting parade of vampire movies is still going on today. You may have seen Anne Rice’s breakthrough story “Interview With a Vampire,” in 1994, starring Tom Cruise and Brad Pitt.

Along with those (and other) stars, there was a real Vampire in the cast; Count Barsetti Albergati.

Luring stars to the blood-drinkers movie studios was/and is, actually very easy. The ability to control minds, and memories, allows vampires to get whoever they want to star in their movies.

The list of movies made by the studio contains some great classic vampire flicks. You’ve seen the real thing if you saw: ” “The Night Flyer (1997); Blood: The Last Vampire (2000); “Queen of the Damned (2002); or Vegas Vampires (2007).

Those movies are only a sampling of the vampire’s cinematic achievements.

Recently, vampires have come out of the coffins to let the world know how artistic and educated they are. The American Actor’s Union was the first to acknowledge their place in our society.

Vampires have been embraced by the Goths and the younger set these days. Baby Boomers tend to be wary of the normalization of blood-drinkers, but they still can be found going to their movies.

By the way, I hear Lost Souls in Paradise Studios is having a casting call for victims at eight o’clock tomorrow night. Good luck.

As It Stands, vampire actors don’t say “break a leg” for good luck…they prefer “drain a vein for fame!”

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