Caspar and Lonnie: The Saga Continues

Oengus's latest installment in the continuing saga of Caspar the Amicable Ghost and Lonnie the Dead Hippie Preacher. This time they meet a Gnome. Here's a grabber:

They were about ready to give up their search when they entered a particularly hard to reach grassy spot, surrounded on all sides by very thick brush.

"Get off my grass!" came a loud, cross sounding voice from somewhere in the bushes. It startled them.

Caspar started, and Lonnie too, looking around to see from where the voice came. They moved forward to investigate — by which I mean that Caspar floated through and Lonnie hovered above the vegetation.

"Get off my grass you dumb ass ghosts!" came the voice again, louder and grumpier than before, but this time it sounded as if it came in front of them low to the ground.

This post is from September; I'm still catching up. I'm never disappointed for having read the man's ongoing work.

Catching up with Caspar and Lonnie

In which we discover that Lonnie has the power of exorcism. You really need to read the whole thing, but here's an excerpt which I was going to comment on:

"Well, I think it started because old Pastor Moses didn't like that you started casting demons out of people. Besides preaching, you had the gift of exorcism. You were a demon buster. I remember one time especially. There came a young lady who had been dabbling in witchcraft for years. She had invited seven different spirits to inhabit her. At first they probably gave her clairvoyant abilities that astounded her friends. Demons always offer something to entice a human. It is not until later they started controlling and tormenting her, as demons always come to do. They always hate the people they inhabit. But somehow or another she came to the church one night. You don't recall it, Lonnie? When you told them to come out of her, at first they caused a big commotion. Exorcisms can be messy affairs and shocking to watch happen. But they finally popped out of her and couldn't reenter. They were ever so angry that they were forced to leave the poor woman. She was set free from their grip. Then they looked up at the ceiling and saw me clinging there, looking down at them. They were shocked to see that a gargoyle was guarding the place. I gave them a big raspberry, and they fled the scene."

This reminds me of a funny story told by a newly-ordained Oratorian priest. He was having dinner with a group of my friends circa 1997. Because we were all YUCIs (Young Urban Catholic Intellectuals) he was regaling us with funny Catholic stories. That is, stories about funny Catholics.

One was about a woman who always came up to him after he celebrated daily Mass to perform the important service of telling him what was wrong with the church architecture, or what was wrong with him, or how spiritual she herself was. One time she told him she had an apparition of the Blessed Virgin Mary. He decided to have the following conversation with her at that point.

"Did you spit at the apparition?" the priest inquired.

"Excuse me?" replied the spiritual lady, no doubt shocked that the young priest would suggest such a blasphemous act, not to mention being oblivious to the impressiveness of her revelation.

"I asked you if you had spit at the apparition. You see, if it truly was an apparition of Our Lady, spitting would not have harmed it. Whereas if the apparition were actually demonic in nature — as is sometimes the case — your spit would banish it immediately. That's why St. John told the early Christians to test the spirits. If it happens again, spit at it. You won't offend Our Lady; she'll know why you are doing it."

This exchange had the two intended effects. The primary effect was, of course, the instructing of the ignorant, one of the spiritual works of mercy. The other effect was that the woman never bothered him after Mass ever again.

No doubt this parting of two people with different spiritual offerings was a blessing for the Church. This is often the case, as in the story of the parting of Paul and Barnabas in Acts chapter 15. Father continued to celebrate Mass for the spiritual lady every day, and the spiritual lady no doubt begged Our Lord and every saint she knew like crazy for this priest's conversion. That's called a win-win. It's a big Church, and we all help each other get to Heaven.

Mr. Moonbones on Gargoyles

I used to think a gargoyle was a certain type of goyle, as opposed to a boy. But that silliness is only one of the many misconceptions about gargoyles. Oengus Moonbones instructs the ignorant among us with regard to these strange—but eminently good—creatures in an installment of his serial Caspar and Lonnie. Excerpt:

The best way, I suppose, to describe the appearance of a gargoyle would be to say, as a first approximation, that it is like a monstrous blend of monkey, lizard, toad, and octopus. Now gargoyles stand upright, usually, and are bipedal, mostly, and have binocular vision, if you don't take into account their auxiliary receptors. Gargoyles have very strong prehensile tails, which can be used as an extra leg. Their hands and feet are more reptilian-like with long, razor sharp nails and claws, which are retractable like in cats. The arms and legs are long and slender but surprising for their strength and agility. As for their skin, it appears more toad-like than anything, and it is covered with many protuberances, or bumps, the overall coloration ranging between a dark greyish green to a deep bluish purple. Gargoyles are odorless. Their large primary eyes are a deep red in color, with pupils resembling what you see in cats. Their heads sport multiple horns, sprouting at least six or more, which curve to sharp points. Their noses are bulbous, with a keen sense of smell, and the large mouths contain long fangs. The ears are large, and floppy, and acutely sensitive over a wide frequency range. A Gargoyle's tongues is split at the end, the tips being capable of moving independently. A gargoyle's voice is clear, well articulated and gentle sounding. If ever you have heard a very mellow, late night FM radio disk jockey, that is close to what a gargoyle sounds like when it talks.

I mentioned "auxiliary receptors". What I mean each of the protuberances on the skin houses a tentacle which can be extended or retracted, and these tentacles have visual receptors as well. And by extending its tentacles, a gargoyle has the ability to view its surroundings in many different directions simultaneously. Besides being able to see, the tentacles are also very strong and can grasp hold of objects. Now some species of octopi are famous for their ability to instantly mimic or blend into their surroundings. Gargoyles have the same ability, only carried to a much higher degree. This is how gargoyles can make themselves virtually invisible. You could have a gargoyle clinging up on the ceiling just a few feet above you, watching you, but you would never be able to see it. That is how well they can blend into their surroundings.

Read the whole thing. It's getting good.

More Menacing Mannequins in the Macabre Moonlight

Latest installment of Caspar & Lonnie is here, folks, and in this one we meet a Non-Domiciled Indigent Person. Every great story from the Holy Gospels to Happy Gilmore features a Homeless Dude, right? Here's a teaser:

"Don't worry, Lonnie. They are just mannequins." said Caspar with relief. His excellent "sixth sense" told him that no demons were possessing these laughing mannequins, and there was nothing to fear. And Lonnie didn't feel anything tingling in his hands. Nonetheless, both ghosts were very unnerved by the horde of mannequins who, in the weird lighting, appeared as if they were laughing at them for their misfortunes.

I am sure that once Hollywood acquires the film rights to this excellent story of mine, the screen writers will probably juice up parts of it to make it more terrifying. So I imagine that here they would turn it around so that the mannequins Caspar and Lonnie saw were all demon possessed as well, and consequently they would all start walking towards our two friends in the most menacing way possible. And this would be a spot where the CGI lab could add gee-whiz special effects to accentuate the terror of it all. But really, nothing like this happened in this case. Sometimes the mannequins are just mannequins.

[other posts on Oengus Moonboones.]

Caspar & Lonnie Meet a Demon

Another chapter in the exciting serial of Caspar and Lonnie by our friend, the inimitable Oengus Moonbones.

You may have missed the 2nd episode, Evening at the Mall, which I link here for your convenience. It came out shortly after my initial post on which I mentioned the series. I only hope the man continues this intriguing saga.

Oengus Moonbones: Storyteller Extraordinaire

Every time I visit Oengus's fine blog I feel like I've stepped into a different world. It's a lunar landscape of sorts. Plus I almost always learn at least one new word.

When I started to read his Story of St. Alison Kaylee that he recently relinked here, I immediately realized that I had read it once before when he wrote it almost 2 years ago. But I had forgotten it. Oengus has a simple style that really puts things right inside you, so often you don't remember the reading. The beauty somehow got directly infused into my soul. Or maybe I just forgot reading it? Either way it's lovely; here's an excerpt:

As the story goes, some time after her sister's passing, while walking on the beach with her friends — this was the Oregon coast near Tolovana — Alison looked out at the ocean waves and the sun light glistening on the foamy water. She saw a most marvelous vision that caused her to be frozen and transfixed. Her friends didn't know what was happening to her, as she seemed to just stand there on the sand staring out at the sea.

She saw two angels, dressed in sparkling white, their beards were long and golden, and they hovered with their feet just above the waves and the sun drenched water. Between them, they were holding a dark wooden cross, and on that cross Alison could see a vision of the Lord crucified and hanging there. He looked up at her, wearing the thorny crown, and said "love me, Alison, for I greatly loved you." Alison distinctly heard this and fell on her knees in the sand astonished. Her friends saw her doing this but only heard the rushing of the waves. Alison was never the same after this. She decided she would love Him who greatly loved her and bore such suffering for her sake to free her from her sins.

Read the whole thing; it's not long and well worth the time it takes to read.

On the quirkier side, check out his "ghost story" titled Caspar and Lonnie about two ghosts who become friends. Here's a teaser:

"Oh, look at that! A worm." said Caspar.

"Hey, I know him," said Lonnie, who had floated over to get a closer look. "That's my friend, Herman the worm."

"That is wonderful. He is your friend?" asked Caspar.

"Oh yeah," Lonnie explained, "I know him well. He helped to turn my mortal remains into compost, in a very environment-friendly, natural kind of way."

"Herman looks like he is in trouble. Maybe we should try to help him," said Caspar as he bent down besides Lonnie to get a closer look at the poor worm, who was in danger of desiccating if he didn't return soon to the moist earth.

It's not a finished story, but maybe if Mr. Moonbones gets enough readers he'll be inspired to finish the story.

What I read first today

...and what I will likely be thinking about for the rest of the day is Oengus Moonbones's latest work in progress, The Relics. For some reason, the man from the "Land In-between" just draws me into his stories. There's an honesty in his fiction that you don't always see in the non-fiction of others. Here's how The Relics begins:

The story I want to tell you begins with a funeral, my funeral actually.

It's funny how the end of your life can circle back around to near where you began. That was the case with me when they held a funeral for me at the Crystal Cathedral, over in Garden Grove. It is a nice town, much like the rest of the towns you find in southern California. When I was very young, my grandmother Edith would take me to Sunday school at a small church not far down the road from where the Cathedral is located. Back then I would never have dreamt that just down the street they would finally bury me. But I guess you don't think about those kind of things when you're little.

Anyhow, my funeral was a sight to behold. I mean it was a really big funeral, bigger than anything I could imagine happening. All sorts of people came. There were some that I knew in life, but most of the people who came I had no idea who they were or where they came from. Isn't it strange that when you're still around, not many people will even talk to you. Once you're gone, though, you discover you've got all these friends you never knew you had.

The story isn't finished, but I hope he writes more. I remember a few years back reading his quirky and very humorous Belinda at Starbucks, which I can't seem to find on Lunar Skeletons anymore. What's up with that, Oengus?

Eulogy-writing 101

Just got finished reading this fantastic obituary by Oengus Moonbones about his friend, Joseph Schooler. Wow. I loved its Christian simplicity and its American-ness. He should teach a class on how to write a eulogy; many could benefit. The ending was pure poetry.

In Genesee, the grain silos make their stand and pierce the blue sky as they had for many years. This place was as American as America can ever get.

Hope I can check out Idaho some day and look up at the sky from the Land Inbetween.

Mr. Moonbones shreds R2P

When I want some dark humor, I wander over to the Lunar Ossuary where Oengus Moonbones never fails to disappoint, offering gems like Winning the War of R2P.

Winning the War of R2P

Shock and awe them with our Tolerance,
Overwhelm them with our Diversity
Then smash 'em with our Sensitivity.
We’ll show 'em how Progressive we do be.

Free speech for me but not for thee
Such double standards we all can see
We learnt at Open Minded University
Along with other strange perversity.

For we must not offend the R.O.P.
Nor our Saudi masters overseas;
They own the oil spigot, don't you see?
So let us all visualize whorled peas,

And shock and awe them with our Tolerance,
Overwhelm them with our Diversity
Then smash 'em with our Sensitivity.
We’ll show 'em how Progressive we do be.

Love it. Maybe these guys should use this as a marching hymn?