Welcome. This is my blog, and you're my most coveted guest. If I seem a bit too intense, it's only because I have so much that I want to share with you, and I can see that you're eager to begin as well. So, please...make yourself at home, sip an East India cocktail (I blended the pomegranate juice myself), and sample some of my domestic and imported Arcana: useless, but fascinating information about Victoriana, Steampunk and other favoured topics; music which evokes that dark, lost Lenore sensibility; and other pleasant or, perhaps, unsettling non sequiters whispered in a darkened room. Linger long or short, leave a comment or refrain, but remember to come back soon to play a (shhhh) parlour game.
Velkommen. Dette er min blog, og du er min mest eftertragtedegæst. Hvis jeg synes en smule for intenst, det er kunfordi jeg har så meget at jeg vil dele med jer, og jeg kanse, at du er ivrig efter at begynde så godt. kan du ...føl dig hjemme, sip et East India cocktail (jeg blandetden granatæble juice mig selv), og prøve nogle af mine indenlandske o importerede Arcana: ubrugelig, menfascinerende oplysninger om Victoriana, Steampunkog andre begunstigede emner; musik der fremkalderdenne mørke, mistede Lenore sensibilitet, og andrebehagelige eller måske foruroligende, ikke sequitershviskede i et mørkelagt rum. Linger lang eller kort,efterlade en kommentar eller afstå, men husk at komme tilbage snart til at spille en (Shhhh) selskabsleg.


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I love my grown children, miss all the dogs I ever had, and I cry at the drop of a hat, I believe in true love, destiny, fairness, and compassion. If I could be anywhere right now, it would be the ocean. My favorite city is New York, but I am always longing for London and craving more time in Copenhagen. I'm drawn to desolate places, deserted buildings, and unknown byways. I don't care how society perceives me as long as my gut tells me that what I'm doing is right. I am interested in paranormal things, spiritual things, historical things, and things that glow at night. I like to drink, I smoke when I write, I can't stand small talk, and despite my quick temper, I would rather kiss than fight. I'm selfish with my writing time, a spendthrift with my love. My heart has been broken so many times that it's held together with super glue and duct tape. The upside is that, next time, I won't be tempted to give away what I no longer have to give. But I will let you buy me a Pink Squirrel.


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Helvede's så Nocturne

Helvede's så Nocturne
The raw, aching sadness with which the following words were typed has been reformatted to fit your screen. No need to adjust it. All names have been expunged to protect the innocent and the willfully insane.

Nocturne in G Flat major

Chopin, darkness, light, sand and wind, starlight tread. Beethoven, love, fear, madness, redemption in the night. Liszt, waltzing widows, desperate bargains, pleasure's secret plight. Now, then, before, always, forever. Promises made on lonely beaches, celestial summer's perfect kiss, passions quenched in salty breezes, the lure of distant mist-draped heights. Bitter interlude. Final, private nocturne. Burned down like a candle. Doomed bleeding beauty. Fated sacrificial night.
To be continued...

Gentle Visitor

Gentle Visitor
And now, Gentle Visitor, won't you please lend an eye (we've worked so hard)...
We love all things dark and mysterious, macabre and obscure, odd and unfathomable. Nothing is too strange or bizarre for our little blog. And although we would never presume to offer definitive answers to the great questions of life, we shall do our best to enlighten, inform and delight our visitors with our whimsical potpurri of facts, anecdotes, trivia and informational outpourings. We strive not to offend, but to edify those who wish to reach beyond their comfort zone and touch the fabric of another time and place, and of distant, but genuine worlds and lives. As Victorian-themed blogs go, ours may not be the most austere, nor the most comprehensive, but we know what we like, and if our readers like it as well, then all is as it should be in this ramshackle corner of our own personal Victorian empire.

A Musical Note

A Musical Note: We feel that our blog is best viewed when accompanied by one or more of the following musical selections. Then again, we also feel that our blog is best viewed when accompanied by a glass of absinthe, a bite of lemon cake, and a foot massage (preferably by someone you know). So, to paraphrase the otherwise completely irrelevant-to-our-blog Mr. Aleister Crowley, "Do what thou wilt...but be open to Chopin."

And now we begin

And now we begin
"One must strive to show decorum even when scrolling." Queen Victoria, Buckingham Palace Blog, August 11,1879

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Wednesday, December 26, 2012


With the recent onslaught of historically-based (if not always historically accurate) films that have been flickering across theater screens of late, we thought it was time to offer some of our own ideas for "historical blockbusters" that we wish someone would make. And so, with no further ado, here they are...


Aside from the critically-lauded, but extremely tame 1970s TV movie starring Elizabeth Montgomery as America's most famous alleged and ultimately acquitted murderess, we've never seen a film about Lizzie Borden. We find that strange, considering the wealth of untapped "Lizzie material" just waiting to be made into a movie, not to mention the interest that her story still generates among those who love a good unsolved 19th century double homicide case. The story of Lizzie Borden has all the components necessary for a historically-based blockbuster: a lonely old maid who yearns for a higher place on the local society ladder, a rich, but tight-fisted father who refuses to indulge her desires, a dowdy stepmother intent on advancing her own family's interests over that of her stepchildren, a meek sister whose true agenda is never clear, and an Irish maid who seems to know more than she's willing to tell. On top of all that, there's the town itself---quintessential New England, divided equally between the haves and have nots, and populated by more quirky characters than you can shake a stick at. And what about the pear that Lizzie claimed she was eating when the murders of her parents took place? We can see it now. The movie opens with a close-up of Lizzie's hand holding the pear, then, as the camera pans upward to her mouth as she takes the first bite, we hear a horrified scream from the next room and cut immediately to the image of the maid staring, frozen, at Andrew Borden's hatchet-chopped body lying on the sofa in the parlor. Did Lizzie do it, or was she really just munching on that pear with no idea that her father had been turned into beefsteak during his afternoon nap? Lizzie Borden may have been acquitted of the heinous act, but the truth is, we'll never know for certain. It remains an unsolved crime, with no other viable suspects. But that's what makes the case so tantalizing and such perfect fodder for a movie. The only thing the story doesn't have is a love interest for Lizzie, but who to say there couldn't be one? Maybe she had a thing for her lawyer, or the pharmacist who sold her the percussic acid she bought a few days before her parents met their grisly end. As long as the rest of the facts are right, there's always room for a little artistic license. We just wish that someone out there would take it.


Well, why not a major motion picture about the 19th century suffragette movement? You have a ton of interesting characters to pick from: the strong and serious feminist prototype, Susan B. Anthony, the brilliant former abolitionist Elizabeth Cady Stanton, and, on the other end of the fin de sicle, the notorious British suffragette leader, Mary "Slasher" Richardson. You have women marching in the streets, women in jail on hunger strikes, and even women throwing themselves in front of horses and carriages and being trampeled to death in the name of the cause. All against a backdrop of personal relationships, angry politicians, and a divided populace. It's great stuff. A human drama just begging to be transferred to celluloid. Not to mention that it would give at least one or two older actresses a chance to shine in a role that might result in an Academy Award. I can see Susan Sarandon as Susan B. Anthony right now. There's even room for a gratuitous sex scene or two. After all, just because a woman is willing to jump in the path of a speeding buggy for the sake of making a political point doesn't mean she's adverse to romance. The suffragette story has it all. All we need is someone to write a good screenplay.


On November 5, 1872, the Mary Celeste, a British-American merchant brigatine carrying a cargo of 1,701 gallons of commercial alcohol, left port in Staten Island, New York and headed for Genoa, Italy. On board were Captain Benjamin Briggs, a seasoned seven-man crew, and Briggs' wife and two-year-old daughter. There was no reason to think that anything would go wrong before the ship reached its destination across the Atlantic. But something did. A month later, the Mary Celeste was discovered abandoned, still seaworthy, its cargo intact, and seven months rations of food and water. However, there was no sign of Captain Briggs, his family, or the crew. Even more perplexing, there were no signs of a struggle and, except for water on the deck and in the hold and the fact that one of the ship's seven lifeboats was missing, there were no real clues as to what might have happened to those on board. Was it pirates? An alien abduction? The possibilities are endless and just waiting to be made into a speculative historical blockbuster. Haven't we seen enough movies about The Titanic? It's time for a new tragedy-at-sea movie, with its own overplayed, sappy theme song. It's time for the Mary Celeste.


She was a beautiful social-climbing femme fatale. He was an overweight, self-indulgent, ill-tempered English monarch. But, after years of seducing wealthy noblemen and reaping the financial benefits, Alice Keppel found the sugardaddy of her dreams in Edward VII, whose reputation as a notorious womanizer equaled hers as a high-profile mistress. It was a match made in historical movie romance heaven. The future great grandmother of equally successful mistress Camilla Parker Bowles and the father of Edward VIII and George V (see "The King's Speech") fell madly in love and embarked on a relationship that lasted until Edward's death. In between there was enough romance, royal drama, and personal struggle to...well...fill two hours of screen time. Why did poor Bertie stutter and require speech lessons? The answer is probably right here, waiting for us, if only someone would make the historical blockbuster that this love story was meant to be.

Well, there you have it. Our humble offerings for the big screen, rooted in history and ready for movie critics. All they need is for someone to make them into a movie.

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