He’s not Blacula, but he’s black and he’s a vampire
Blacula is so alone, so lonely. He doesn’t have friends of equal status who drink blood and kill people, only minions. I don’t have minions and I don’t drink blood – well once – but I don’t kill people because it’s against the law – I mean because it’s wrong. Poor Blacula – Dracula gave him this uninspired name — he wants this voodoo priestess to turn him back into a human. But she won’t because he killed people in front of her. So she drives a stake into his voodoo doll likeness, stopping him. He holds one arm in the air and clutches his chest. A song called Torment comes on and the credits roll. The music sounds like a television score from the early seventies — weird for this type of movie. I love that Blacula’s face is frozen on the screen while the song plays. Graphics turn Blacula’s tormented, screaming face red and his vampire teeth show. I like the way the singer says freeeeee-dooooom, freeeeeeeeeedoooooooom….
The Torment song was my theme for the day. We’re tormented for different reasons but today I was Blacula, so alone, so tooor-mented.
Mama why am I different? Dr. Frankenstein, why did you make me to suffer like a dog in Germany?
Some of you know I wouldn’t be on Facebook if not for Mean-Spirited Tales. While Facebook is a great distraction when you need it, all the common opinions about the election made me feel isolated. So today I rolled the film of my life to the tune of Blacula’s lonely lament. I didn’t get enough sleep last night so I had no resistance against the lament. It was an absurd lament.