Noir Magick Finale

A chilly October night was made even chillier by Cabaret Noir’s Halloween show. At least we weren’t knocking the snow off our boots. A full house, some in costume, ‘enjoyed’ an evening of zombies, witches, vampires & Bela Lugosi. Lizzie Violet, with lips artful sown shut, started the show with a piece of her own: ‘I could still hear it breathing.’ Philip Cairns brought the Ghosts of the Past – a piece sparked by a film shoot in a place he had lived as a child – there’s a movie plot is that – apparently he’s still haunted by Annette Funicello’s breasts. He was followed by Shawn Sosnowski who did a fine acapella take on Bright Eye’s ‘You Will.’

blueplant

First feature D. S. Campbell hit the stage with his inner child literally exploding out of his head. He read from his Zombie Manifesto. First a scene on an airport tarmac: ‘just enough breathing room, to consider the weather,’ ‘I saw them shuffle … eating as they themselves were dying.’ Tension was palpable & characters were sharply drawn. The other section was the nano-technological rational of the zombies – for once it makes sense but you’ll have to read the book to find out what it is.

bluewater

After a break Saraah October did a vampire piece: ‘She said I could come in, but I wasn’t sure.’ I followed with my much anticipated set – anticipated mainly by me 🙂 I’ve never read one of my short stories so I wasn’t sure if I had the energy, for one thing, or that the audience would follow & not get antsy after five minutes. Yes I had the energy & no they didn’t get antsy. Sex Magick cast its spell over them.

pinkcloud

After a break Conflicting Plaid hit the stage – bass, lead & drummer in various zombie makeup – or were they just scary than usual mimes? As always their punk drive delivered a pile-driver set of propulsive fun. They added a few seasonal songs: ‘pieces of you keep turning up’ ‘she loves me for my brraains’ ‘you cut off my hand & shoved it up my ass.’ Great originals plus some covers include a great take on Bela Lugosi’s Dead. A set that left us both called & warmed up.pinkdoll

Sadly, & unknown at the time, this was the final of Cabaret Noir. The Central just isn’t making enough $ on sweet potato fries – most poets, performers don’t have enough cash to keep that show commercially viable enough. Rest assured this isn’t the end of Lizzie Violet.

samp01

For my set I read Sex Magical Quarterly – a stolen magazine has unexpected results on the thief – this is a excerpt from the story:

 

When Hogsy got home he stashed his magazines in a box under his bed. All through supper he itched to read whatever it was the Sex Magick had to say.

As Hogsy ate, he felt the witch’s eyes burning into him. They seemed to be everywhere he looked.

….

Back in his room, Hogsy propped open his history text. The Sex Magick pull-out fit perfectly under it so he could read it and hide it fast if someone came into his room

The witch’s glittering eyes danced on and off the page. They seemed to be in 3D. He held the cover at eye level and tilted it this way and that to see what sort of printing technique they had used. It had to be some sort of laser print. The eyes darted in a way that made him open the insert.

The first page was an introduction to the use of the spell. He skimmed it; the print got smaller toward the bottom of the page. It was stuff about getting the right implements, taking take to clear one’s mind. Stuff he didn’t care about.

The weird font and odd use of language made it difficult for him to understand what was being said. Then it became another language all together.

“Nam drim incagto Hogsy fridamo.” He was amazed to see his name right there in the spell. He looked away, rubbed his eyes and looked back. Yep, it said Hogsy all right!

There was whole paragraph which he felt compelled to say out loud. The words felt odd as he stumbled through them, but when he read it a second time, it flowed and he felt he actually understood what it said. His name only appeared in that one place. After the third time, his eyes became heavy and he fell asleep at his desk.

He woke out of a wild sex dream. He was with the witch on the cover making out in a huge, endless bed. The bed was like the beach. She kept touching his cock and balls with her tongue while talking to him. She was speaking in the same language as the spell. He was forced awake by the need to piss.

When he woke he was in bed. He didn’t remember leaving his desk. His cock throbbed with pee pressure, and he rushed to the bathroom.

He struggled with his fly on the way to the bathroom to get his cock out before he pissed his pants. It felt like his underwear had gotten twisted around and all bunched up around his nut sack.

He kicked the bathroom door shut behind him and pushed his jeans down. He couldn’t believe what he saw. His cock was big. He was dizzy looking at the size of it. He began to piss and the stream was dark yellow and he was missing the toilet. Pee was splashing off the rim, on to the floor and walls.

He was afraid to touch his cock, but had to keep it aimed. How could it grow that much overnight? What took one hand to aim now took two. Yesterday he could get his hand around the shaft; now it was like trying to get his hands around a … a football.

November 1 – 30 Participating NaNoWriMo
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Nasty Naughty Noir

Cabaret Noir blasts the chill away with laughs, burlesque and propulsive punk with its first show of 2015. After a set of great open stagers: Brenda Clews with winter reflections; D S Campbell with a snippet of his Twitter novel @ZombieManifesto; Josh Goldstein with a fine poetic flow: & TOpoet plugging the Sunday benefit show; Heather Macdonald (Twitter: @heather_mariko) hit the stage.

snowballs

nasty dirty snowballs

Heather did a wide ranging set of stand-up comedy that went from warning signs that make he want to do what she’d never think of doing, Asian Flush (she’s part Asian so gets the flush half the time); Mennonite horse and buggies with modern car bucket seats and the kids in back playing Farmville on their iPhone6’s.

snowman

a shot of Whiskey crumbled this snowman

A sultry slinky Whiskey Winter did a temperature raising turn to Christina Aguilera’s Nasty Naughty Boy. Entering through the audience she treated the packed house to a polished tradition burlesque, flapping fringes, the tasty glove peel, glorious ass tease (is there a technical dance term for that move: pas du derrière?) – all of which left us wanting more.

Final feature Conflicting Plaid http://conflictingplaid.com/ lounge punk – were loud, fast, fun and energetic. Propelled by spot on jittery slippery guitar and bass, grounded by an excellent drummer lead singer Zed Dulac trampled through a batch of fun, short songs & some raucous covers. Sounding at times like early Elvis Costello, Eddie & the Hot Rods – the songs were moments of hot sex – those moments when you get in, get it done, get out before you wear out your welcome & everyone is satisifed. Glory would fit in on any Pansy Division cd. (the rest of the band: Ian Đaly Sean Macnab David Reichert)

snowfort (s)no(w) fort

With Nelson Sobral keeping the sound balanced it was a great set. By the end of the night the windows of the Central were so steamed up one couldn’t see in or out.

 

samples

I did ‘pillow’ on the open stage: http://wp.me/p1RtxU-11a.

another drop 

the float of cups   spoons
moons   leaves
wet midnights broken by laugher
left to reflect on the puddles
red sticky slicks that caress the stage
invite the applause of over-hanging gaspers
soon to be disgraced with apologies
wondering not aloud

what if this isn’t the moment

to leap up once and for all get it over with
no beginnings only ends
only a bar counter to wipe ready
for weary prisoners to stop rest gripe
about the fairness of their sentence
how they deserve what they want
and they want it now piping hot
heaped dishes of freshly chopped
branches of moon strung stings
to replace the end of things
we all know that end is looming
bigger

than that pole-dancer’s ass that hovers
over your out-stretched glass
another drop pretty pretty please
please squeeze harder

we know you can do it
before the song changes
it has to be on that note
the universal choir
chasing clouds of notes around
looking for car keys put down in a hurry
your car running in the garage
who is in the back seat drifting
as the red slick sends
reflection of spoons to the moon
each prisoner barely turning
in their stools

asking
are we up to guessing what comes next

snow03

snow what

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