Anti-Vampire Hate Speech in Pittsburgh

On September 14, 2008, the Pittsburgh Tribune-Review published an op-ed piece titled, Don't let your children grow up to be..." by an anonymous writer identified only with the explanation, "Dateline D.C. is written by a Washington-based British journalist and political observer."

This article is being circulated around the vampiric community blogosphere, probably giving it more free PR and linkbacks than it deserves. The anonymous op-ed columnist writes a preposterous piece of fear-mongering nonsense, purporting that young people going to college are at risk of being "recruited" by evil, mind-controlling "cults." His/her examples of such sinister groups include eco-terrorist groups (the kind that, gasp, liberate test animals from labs) and..."Vampyre cults." Below is an excerpt from the column (note the hypothetical victim's name--"Rosemary" as in Rosemary's Baby).

Rosemary was lucky. She could have been recruited by a "vampyre" cult. Vampires, as we call them, are now active in the vicinity of several campuses. They recruit the Rosemarys of the world into their "vampyre" families.

This is not a replay of Bram Stoker's Victorian world of blood drinking, nor in the mewlings of Southern ladies turned writer in the past decade or so. We can't even blame television, because we are facing a 21st-century perversion using AIDS/HIV avoidance as the hook.

Naturally, hormones rage out of control in young people and an older pair or a trio are the leaders and will recruit seven or eight young women and half as many young males. The young ones will all work as messengers, clerks or shop assistants and their money will be pooled by the elders.

The group is sexually active with one another but with no one outside the group -- thus they believe there can be as much sexual activity as they can handle without fear of AIDS/HIV.

And, of course, there has to be a ritual. There's blood drinking -- cranberry juice or, at worst, packaged blood from transfusion kits. Vampire fangs can be inserted over teeth. Contact lenses are used to change eye color. And photographs can make these sordid rituals and couplings look and feel excitingly exclusive -- and become very expensive.

Debt and strange experiences build up and help to ensure that the Rosemarys won't return very quickly to a more normal society.

Police and educational departments in several major East and West coast cities won't comment. But high school teachers know that recruiting for "vampyre" families starts as early as age 12.

I'd like to think that this anonymous writer was trying to write satire--the claims made are certainly outrageous enough. I can't be sure of that, however--this scenario reads like something right out of Chick Comics, and those were dead serious. It doesn't seem to occur to the columnist that if "police and educational departments...won't comment" there is probably a good reason for their silence: namely, that the question is too stupid to dignify with an answer. But as we all know, there are far too many people out there who are gullible and superstitious enough to see "evil cults" behind every tree.

I wrote a response to the newspaper, but had to trim it down to fit their 200-word maximum limit. Here is my reply:

Dear Editors,

I was appalled by the anonymous editorial piece that you saw fit to publish under the title, "Don't let your kids grow up to be..." dated Sunday, September 14, 2008. Opinions are one thing, but even op-ed columnists should be compelled to check their facts.

For the record: there are no "vampyre cults" recruiting college students, high school students, or 12-year-olds. Everything the anonymous writer claimed is utter and absolute nonsense. Real vampires are law-abiding and solitary people who don't have the slightest wish to "recruit followers" or even be known for what they are. In fact, they're generally very difficult to locate or contact, since they're used to being treated with suspicion, contempt and outright abuse. There is a loosely linked, scattered and highly diverse "vampire community," but it could not by any stretch of the imagination be called "a cult." Real vampires are far too busy struggling with their own unique health issues and needs as they hold down jobs, maintain relationships and raise families to “recruit” anybody. I know what I'm talking about, because I've been part of this community for more than ten years.

You’re welcome to check my websites for factual information about real vampires.

Sincerely,

Inanna Arthen, M.Div
Owner, By Light Unseen Media
http://bylightunseenmedia.com
(my address and phone number, as requested to "verify" the letter)

I doubt they'll print my letter or take it seriously, but I sent it. If you'd like to respond to this column, see the Tribune-Review's Guidelines for letters to the editor with snail-mail and e-mail addresses.

Book Review: Vampyres of Hollywood by Adrienne Barbeau and Michael Scott

The most obvious bit of satire in Vampyres of Hollywood (St. Martins: July 2008) is the suggestion that the great stars of the Golden Age of Cinema are literally, not just figuratively, “immortal.” But the entire novel, written by actress Adrienne Barbeau (Swamp Thing, The Fog) and author Michael Scott (The Alchemyst, The Magician) is really one enormous in-joke, on many levels. So pulpy that it should be printed on yellow paper, so formulaic that it should be filmed by Roger Corman, Vampyres of Hollywood stands in homage to the B horror flicks for which its heroine Ovsanna Moore and its co-author Barbeau are famous. In the best hack cinema tradition, Barbeau and Scott drench the scenery with blood, innards and ichor, borrow from every source that can’t run away fast enough, and finish with an outrageously over-the-top finale. It’s not great literature, but as every B-movie fan knows, the mess is all part of the fun.

Ovsanna Moore is a five hundred year old Vampyre with an attachment to the film industry. She loves it so much, in fact, that she has faked her own death twice and now poses as her own granddaughter carrying on three generations of movie stardom. She’s a one-woman version of the Barrymores. In the present day, Ovsanna runs a film company, Anticipation Studios, producing and usually starring in gory schlock horror films. As the novel begins, life is imitating Ovsanna’s art: actors and other people connected to Ovsanna’s film business are being found murdered in intensely gruesome ways (most of them being “found” in more than one spot). As the “Cinema Slayer” racks up a body count and terrorizes Tinseltown, world-weary Detective Peter King of the Beverly Hills P.D. pursues an investigation that quickly leads him to Ovsanna Moore’s doorstep. He ends up learning more about the “underworld” of Hollywood than he ever dreamed might exist.

That’s about all the plot that Vampyres of Hollywood can boast of. As more and more people around her turn up slaughtered (and usually sliced, diced and julienned), Ovsanna puzzles over the motive for the killings. Meanwhile, Peter King interviews various individuals without getting much closer to a resolution of the case. Finally, Ovsanna “follows a hunch” to another city and a possible explanation that is never foreshadowed in any way. Detective King trails after her to enable him to be part of the pull-out-all-the-stops-and-sit-on-the-keyboard climax.

I don’t care for first-person narrators, as a rule, and Vampyres of Hollywood has two of them. The chapters alternate between Ovsanna and Peter, with an icon on the chapter heading to identify who is talking. The icons are useful, because except for the content, there is absolutely nothing to differentiate the two characters’ narrations. Ovsanna and Peter think alike, talk alike, appear to have identical attitudes, moods, and outlooks on life, and their narrative voices are indistinguishable. They even are both currently celibate with a preference for female partners. I had to pay close attention to keep track of whose adventures I was following in the chapter I was reading.

Because of the skeletal storyline and the dual narration, the chapters are stuffed with expository padding. Ovsanna constantly cuts to a sidebar to explain to us readers details about Vampyrism in general and her past specifically. Peter King rambles off only slightly less often on tangents about his mother’s connection to the film industry and his experiences as a Beverly Hills cop. There are a lot of clever jokes--Ovsanna seems to have known everyone who ever wrote literature or made movies even slightly related to vampires and had a front row seat for every major historical event. She even tells us something we didn’t know about the real fate of Jack the Ripper. But all the explanation becomes tedious, and I found myself skimming chunks of digression to get back to the story.

Like a low-budget horror movie, Vampyres of Hollywood is filled with flagrant contradictions it disdains to reconcile. Ovsanna is the “Chatelaine of Hollywood,” but she seems relatively powerless when the other Vampyres of Hollywood appear at her home and warn her to resolve the situation or else. The Vampyres in the story are supposedly born as they are, yet at the same time, they can “turn” human beings into Vampyres. The relationship between Ovsanna and the murder victims is inconsistent, and sometimes tenuous. When we finally learn who is behind the killings, they still don’t make a lot of sense. Ovsanna is warned that she is putting Vampyres at risk of exposure, but nothing she does could possibly attract more attention than a string of horrendous homicides. Contradictions like this tend to haunt derivative stories. Vampyres of Hollywood owes a heavy debt to author Kim Newman (Anno Dracula, The Bloody Red Baron) and the fictional universe of Vampyres: The Masquerade and its “vampire clans.” I also detected loud pounding echoes of the movies Death Becomes Her (1992), Fright Night (1985) and Quentin Tarantino’s repellent From Dusk Till Dawn (1996).

But critiquing a book like this one too closely is like printing nutritional information on a tub of movie popcorn. Vampyres of Hollywood follows the predictable roller-coaster ride of every low-budget creature feature, especially the ending. If you’re knowledgeable about vampires and movies, you’ll enjoy collecting the trivia references and sly jokes. You probably won’t want to read this one on your lunch break, but if you have a beach vacation coming up, Vampyres of Hollywood is lively, undemanding entertainment.