Uncle P and the Mystery of the Creepy Peeps

Among my friends there are two distinct camps when it comes to this story: those who, like myself, find it hilarious and fun and those, like my BIL, who think Uncle P is being stalked by a serial killer. I'll let you decide.

Last November, just about a month after my mother passed away, I came home to find an Apple box stuffed in my mailbox. When I pulled out the tissue paper and ribbons, I found the nightlight you see to your right. And yes, the bulb inside is red. There was no card or note. Nothing on the box but the Apple logo. When I posted it to Facebook, the two camps immediately made themselves apparent. Of course, my friends and regular readers know my taste for the odd (indeed, the macabre) and unusual. And they also know I tend to have a rather dark sense of humor. I thought it was hilarious and plugged it into a kitchen outlet (it gets too hot for practical use, but is fun to switch on when I have guests). In the months that followed, people would occasionally ask me if I ever found out who sent it, but I almost forgot about. Until...

Just around my birthday this year, I came home and opened my screen door and a box tumbled out onto the mat.  Inside was not only the green planter below, but a note!

"Dear Brian,

"The psychic creepy doll network has determined you and your red eyed nightlight needed a friend.

"Therefore please welcome this new addition to your home. We trust you will admire and enjoy it.

"With much love, a shared sense of humor and best wishes,

"Your mystery/anonymous creepy peeps."

The box was a sturdy gift box from the Frenchtown Metalworks, an art jeweler in New Jersey. 

How exciting! Contact had been made! But how much was to be believed? Is this the work of more than one person? Do they live in or near Frenchtown? He, she or they obviously know where I live and when they can deliver packages when I'm not home. More friends freak out. I laugh and hope that all will be revealed, eventually. Speculation continues.  

Next - right before Halloween, I came home to find a bag on my kitchen table. My boarder had brought it in (whew!) after finding it hanging on the doorknob, outside. In the bag was a square box, also from Frenchtown Metalworks. It had a black ribbon and written on it in orange and black markers was "Happy Halloween!" And in the box was the delightfully odd electric tealight holder you see below.

Cozy, isn't she? The yellow flickering eyes in the very pink head are far more effective than the red bulb in the nightlight, don;t you think? No note this time but I didn't need one.

Most recently, I came home from picking up my Christmas Eve dinner from Wing Wah, to find a USPS Priority Mail package sitting in my carport. My sister's package had already arrived, as well as a package from friends who couldn't wait to see me to give me my gift. I looked for the sender only to see "Santa" with no return address. I knew immediately who it was from.

I ate my dinner, opened the rest of my mail and then set to the package. Inside was a letter and the most elaborate dolly of all. Wrapped in a blankie and painted yellow all over; her hair cut off and phrases, slogans and bits of poetry written all over her, she is quite magnificent! 

The letter reads: 

"ho ho ho Brian!

   "I fear you've not been naughty enough this year so was tempted to not deliver this wee child to you for the holidays.

   "Alas your creepy peeps network has informed me that exists (sic) in you a certain scorn for the Christmas merriment... the stories behind the story as it were.

"That has set you in my good graces and so I bestow upon you your very own baby - one of poetry for your reading pleasure as you sit by the fire.

   "So master yourself an icy cold martini, sit back and enjoy the season.

"All my best,

" Santa, the creepy one

"PS... my supply of treats for you has run low... but I have my sources and so perhaps we shall continue this adventure into yet another year"

The font colors are theirs. So they also know that I am an atheist and enjoy an icy cold Sapphire martini now and again. The plot thickens. Or does it? Loads of folks know that. The doll itself, is fascinating. She reminds me of something out of a Clive Barker movie.

On her face is: LETS DO EMPTY OUR POCKETS AND DISAPPEAR * MISSING ALL OUR APPOINTMENTS AND TURN ING UP YEARS LATER UNSHAVEN OLD CIGARETTE PAPERS STUCK TO OUR PANTS LEAVES IN *** OUR HAIR Her torso reads: LET US NOT WORRY ABOUT THE PAYMENTS ANYMORE LET THEM COME ND TAKE IT AWAY WHATEVER IT WAS WE WERE PAYING AND US WITH IT  On her left arm and side: I AM A SOCIAL CLIMBER CLIMBING DOWNWARD AND THE DESCENT IS DIFFICULT  On her right arm: THE UPPER MIDDLE CLASS IDEAL IS FOR THE BIRDS AND THE BIRDS HAVE NO USE FOR IT

On her left leg: LETS CUT IT OUT LETS GO TO THE REAL INTERIOR OF THE COUNTRY WHERE HOCKSHOPS REIGN MERE UNBLIND ANARCHY UPON US THE END IS NEAR BUT GOLF GOES ON. On her right leg: LET US ARISE AND GO NOW TO WHERE DOGS DO IT OVER THE HILL * WHERE THEY KEEP THE EARTHQUAKES BEHIND CITY DUMPS LOST AMONG GAS MAINS AND GARBAGE. On top of her head: JUNKMAN'S OBBLIGATO On the back of her head: LAWRENCE FERLING HETTI (the artist, perhaps?) MY BODY IS HUNG UP TOO LONG IN THE STRANGE SUSPENDERS GET ME A BRIGHT BANDANA FOR A OCKSTRAP (sic) On her back: LET US NOW YOU AND I LEAVING OUR NECKTIES BEHIND ON LAMPOSTS (sic) TAKE UP THE FULL BEARD OF WALKING ANARCHY LOOKING LIKE WALT WHITMAN A HOME MADE BOMB IN THE POCKET I WISH TO OESCEN (?) IN THE SOCIA (?) IS LOW On the back of her right arm: LOSE THE WAR WITHOUT KILLING ANYONE

So, Uncle P's question for you... Would you be freaked out, or just as amazed and amused as I am? That a friend or friends would go this far and long without cracking is just awesome. I know there will be a grand reveal, eventually and I will be face-palming myself for not figuring it out. Until them, I very much love this game!

More, anon.
Uncle P

Karen Black; Mean Pranks; Death and Other Jokes

Karen Black in House of 1000 Corpses

Veteran genre actor Karen Black has passed away at 74 after a long battle with cancer and that makes Uncle P very sad. Ms. Black's career spanned 6 decades and included films such as Easy Rider;  Five Easy Pieces; Airport 75 and The Day of the Locust. But she's probably better known for her genre films which include The Pyx (1973); Burnt Offerings (1976); Invaders from Mars (1986) and House of 1000 Corpses (2003). 

Among those of us who grew up in the era of disco and only one HBO channel, Karen Black is best remembered for an ABC TV Movie of The Week called Trilogy of Terror. As I am sure you've figured out, it was an anthology of three scary stories. No one I know (including myself) remembers anything about the first two stories. Because it was the third story that freaked out everyone who saw it. It was the third story that all my friends were talking about the next Monday at school. And it was the third story that made my sister almost lose her mind (a lot more on that in a bit...). 

As of this writing, she has three films yet to be released. Black, with her wonky eye and unconventional beauty, came to stardom during the Indie Film Renaissance of the 70's (sometimes referred to as the "Second Golden Age') and managed to maintain a very interesting and viable career long after many of her contemporaries didn't. Karen Black was truly One-of-a-Kind.

And so I don't leave on quite a dark note, I'll segue into two real-life events, memories of which were triggered by the news about Ms Black.

My Dad, despite his many faults, was pretty funny and I'm not ashamed to admit that a big part of my sense of humor is directly related to his. He knew a million jokes and he told them well. He often used fairly accurate accents when telling them, which led to my ear for it (which has proven very useful both on and off stage). He loved nonsense and dark humor, and took great joy in pranking my sister and mother. Here are two examples:

When my sister was very young, she would get scared and sneak into my parents' room in the middle of the night. When they started locking their door, she took to coming up into my room, which was basically a loft with no door. I woke up many mornings to find her in my bed.  Trilogy of Terror originally aired on a Friday night. I don't need to tell what Sis did. That Saturday morning, our father got up and started to make breakfast. She heard him rattling around and called out -- "Hello?" Dad snuck out to the living room and made sounds like the Zuni Doll in that clip. Needless to say, Sis crawled back into bed and didn't move or make a sound until I woke up, some time later. Poor kid!

Which led me to this memory of a Halloween in the mid-to late 70's. Trick or Treating was pretty much over for Uncle P for good, but I still went out with Sis and we had some fun times. Of course, in those days we were out for hours (especially on weekends) and would fill pillowcases two or three times. It was safe and there were hundreds of kids and parents out. This particular night, Dad hid a monster mask in the bathroom. I was upstairs, Sis was in her room and Mom was in the kitchen, which is where kids knocked for candy in almost every house in our area, about to go to bed. Dad snuck into the bathroom and put on the mask and a trenchcoat (and nothing else). He snuck out the front door, crept around to the kitchen door and knocked.

Poor Mom, thinking it was last-minute Trick-or-Treater, opened the door. Dad yelled "Trick 'r Treat!" and flashed her, thinking she would recognize him and laugh. Instead, Mom screamed for Dad and slammed the door! Sis and I both came running, only to hear Dad braying like a hyena outside while Mom came to the realization of what had just happened.

Is it any wonder I am the way I am?

Here are some trailers for my favorite Karen Black Horror movies:

More, anon.

Prospero

Oh, Joy!

Shhh! Don't tell anyone about what you're about to read. Don't comment on anything but the images the links take you to. And here's why:

It seems that my new keyboard has a bit of a larger learning curve than I anticipated. This enigmatic post will be updated as soon as my gigantic sausage fingers get used to the damned thing's spacing, layout and feel.

So, "Yay! I'm back on-line!" and "Damnit! I mistyped 6 out of 10 words on these flat, small and close-together keys!" and "Oh sh*t! What the... Grrr!"

I vow to conquer you, new and alien keyboard! You will NOT win! I'm not even signing this, because this text will be gone, soon. So there! 

 I will, being part evil genius -- as you no doubt must have realized by now -- leave your comments up, so those who read it after it's been changed will wonder what the hell ya'll are talking about or maybe even if you're all completely insane (or - hopefully, make them think that they're insane). Shhhh! Don't let them know! :-) There are lots of fun links to reference in comments, too. So have at them and have fun.

This Is a Christian?

(Via) comes the below video clip from MSNBC, which features an audio clip from a recent sermon by Arizona Baptist preacher Steven Anderson. It's a hateful, vitriolic piece of trash in which Anderson says that every night he prays that "...Barack Obama will die and go to hell."

What? Seriously?

Apparently, yes. I have to ask myself, has the man ever actually read the New Testament? I suppose he's only read the parts that talk about hating people and hoping they die.

Now, even though I do not consider myself a Christian (nor do I ascribe to any particular faith, as I have noted before), I have actually read the Bible (both the Old and New Testaments), and as far as I can recall, no where does Jesus ask his disciples to pray for anyone to die. In fact, I played Jesus once in a production of "Godspell," which was presented in the auditorium of a Catholic church. The ground did not open up and swallow me. I was not plagued by boils or locusts. I did not receive the "Mark of the Beast." I did, however, get a standing ovation at the end of each performance.

Here's the thing: If true Christians actually stopped to listen to (or read) the words in the books of Matthew, Mark, Luke and John; they would realize that nowhere does any of them mention homosexuality. The few Biblical references to homosexuality all occur in the Old Testament, and most scholars now agree that those passages are in place to scare people into reproducing little followers who will then grow up to produce more followers.

Watch the clip and tell me what you think:

I imagine (and hope) that if there is, indeed, a hell, there is an especially painful place for hatemongers like Anderson and the members of the Westboro Baptist Church, where they are all forced to have gay sex with demons for all eternity.

And, as a little side note, here's a funny bit (via) about roommate pranking that goes too far (please note: no actual aliens were harmed in the making of this video):

If I were a horrible human being (which I really hope I am not), I'd be playing similar pranks on my dear D, but with clowns (D - if you are reading this, do NOT click on that link!).

More, anon.

Prospero