Stingy Jack

Stingy Jack. Too evil for Heaven, and Hell refused him entry, casting him into the darkness with only an ember from the fires of Hell to light his way...

Remember: never blow out a jack-o'-lantern!

 

Behind You!

 

More of Brian Coldrick's Behind You! series here.

To the Dead in the Graveyard

                 

To The Dead in the Graveyard Underneath My Window
By Adelaide Crapsey

Written in A Moment of Exasperation

How can you lie so still? All day I watch

And never a blade of all the green sod moves

To show where restlessly you toss and turn,

And fling a desperate arm or draw up knees

Stiffened and aching from their long disuse;

I watch all night and not one ghost comes forth

To take its freedom of the midnight hour.

Oh, have you no rebellion in your bones?

The very worms must scorn you where you lie,

A pallid mouldering acquiescent folk,

Meek habitants of unresented graves.

Why are you there in your straight row on row

Where I must ever see you from my bed

That in your mere dumb presence iterate

The text so weary in my ears: "Lie still

And rest; be patient and lie still and rest."

I'll not be patient! I will not lie still!

There is a brown road runs between the pines,

And further on the purple woodlands lie,

And still beyond blue mountains lift and loom;

And I would walk the road and I would be

Deep in the wooded shade and I would reach

The windy mountain tops that touch the clouds.

My eyes may follow but my feet are held.

Recumbent as you others must I too

Submit? Be mimic of your movelessness

With pillow and counterpane for stone and sod?

And if the many sayings of the wise

Teach of submission I will not submit

But with a spirit all unreconciled

Flash an unquenched defiance to the stars.

Better it is to walk, to run, to dance,

Better it is to laugh and leap and sing,

To know the open skies of dawn and night,

To move untrammeled down the flaming noon,

And I will clamour it through weary days

Keeping the edge of deprivation sharp,

Nor with the pliant speaking on my lips

Of resignation, sister to defeat.

I'll not be patient. I will not lie still.

And in ironic quietude who is

The despot of our days and lord of dust

Needs but, scarce heeding, wait to drop

Grim casual comment on rebellion's end;

"Yes, yes . . Wilful and petulant but now

As dead and quiet as the others are."

And this each body and ghost of you hath heard

That in your graves do therefore lie so still.

Happy Hallowe'en!

I'm re-posting my Halloween playlist for you today, so it's easy-to-hand. Click on the pic!

Happy Hallowe'en, October people! Enjoy! (More posts to come, today, so stay tuned!)

David S. Pumpkins Returns...

It wouldn't be Halloween without him.

Click on the pic for David and crew.

 

Star Wars Thriller

Click on the pic for some fun...

Mysterious Mose

Mysterious Mose, first performed by Walter Doyle and his Orchestra in early 1930. Click on the pic for the original cartoon, starring an early version of Betty Boop! 

Whoooooo!

There's a man of mystery, roaming through this land
Ooo-Ooo-Ooo-Ooo-Ooo!
Far and near you'll hear of him, he's found on every hand
Ooo-Ooo-Ooo-Ooo-Ooo!

Every city, town and village knows this boy by now
There's a way to recognize him, let me tell you how!

If you're past that midnight dark beside a graveyard goes
And someone whistles...
Whoooooo!
That's Mysterious Mose!

Or on some dark and stormy night, while the tempest blows
If someone whistles...
Whoooooo!
That's Mysterious Mose!

He sees all, knows all, gets in everywhere
Some night, he might wait for you upon the stair![Chorus]


So if you're going down the cellar, walk upon your toes
And if someone whistles...
Whoooooo!
That's Mysterious Mose!

Whoooooo!

He sees all, knows all, gets in everywhere
Some night, he might wait for you upon the stair!

So if you're going down the cellar, walk upon your toes
And if someone whistles...
Whoooooo!
That's Mysterious Mose!

If you're past that midnight dark beside a graveyard goes
And someone whistles...
Whoooooo!
That's Mysterious Mose!

If someone whistles...
Whoooooo!
That's Mysterious Mose!

Haunted

I dare you all to go into
The Haunted House on Howlin’ Hill,
Where squiggly things with yellow eyes
Peek past the wormy window sill.
We’ll creep into the moonlit yard,
Where weeds reach out like fingers,
And through the rotted old front door
A-squeekin’ on its hinges,
Down the dark and whisperin’ hall,
Past the musty study,
Up the windin’ staircase—
Don’t step on the step that’s bloody—
Through the secret panel
To the bedroom where we’ll slide in
To the ragged cobweb dusty bed
Ten people must have died in.
And the bats will screech,
And the thunder will crash
Like a horrible dream,
And we’ll sing with the zombies
And dance with the dead,
And howl at the ghost
With the axe in his head,
And—come to think of it what do you say
We go get some ice cream instead?

 - Shel Silverstein

The Haunted House

 

Oh, very gloomy is the house of woe,

Where tears are falling while the bell is knelling,
With all the dark solemnities that show
That Death is in the dwelling!

Oh, very, very dreary is the room
Where Love, domestic Love, no longer nestles,
But smitten by the common stroke of doom,
The corpse lies on the trestles!

But house of woe, and hearse, and sable pall,
The narrow home of the departed mortal,
Ne’er looked so gloomy as that Ghostly Hall,
With its deserted portal!

The centipede along the threshold crept,
The cobweb hung across in maze-y tangle,
And in its winding sheet the maggot slept
At every nook and angle.

The keyhole lodged the earwig and her brood,
The emmets of the steps has old possession,
And marched in search of their diurnal food
In undisturbed procession.

As undisturbed as the prehensile cell
Of moth or maggot, or the spider’s tissue,
For never foot upon that threshold fell,
To enter or to issue.

O’er all there hung the shadow of a fear,
A sense of mystery the spirit daunted,
And said, as plain as whisper in the ear,
The place is haunted.

Howbeit, the door I pushed—or so I dreamed--
Which slowly, slowly gaped, the hinges creaking
With such a rusty eloquence, it seemed
That Time himself was speaking.

But Time was dumb within that mansion old,
Or left his tale to the heraldic banners
That hung from the corroded walls, and told
Of former men and manners.

Those tattered flags, that with the opened door,
Seemed the old wave of battle to remember,
While fallen fragments danced upon the floor
Like dead leaves in December.

The startled bats flew out, bird after bird,
The screech-owl overhead began to flutter,
And seemed to mock the cry that she had heard
Some dying victim utter!

A shriek that echoed from the joisted roof,
And up the stair, and further still and further,
Till in some ringing chamber far aloof
In ceased its tale of murther!

Meanwhile the rusty armor rattled round,
The banner shuddered, and the ragged streamer;
All things the horrid tenor of the sound
Acknowledged with a tremor.

The antlers where the helmet hung, and belt,
Stirred as the tempest stirs the forest branches,
Or as the stag had trembled when he felt
The bloodhound at his haunches.

The window jingled in its crumbled frame,
And through its many gaps of destitution
Dolorous moans and hollow sighings came,
Like those of dissolution.

The wood-louse dropped, and rolled into a ball,
Touched by some impulse occult or mechanic;
And nameless beetles ran along the wall
In universal panic.

The subtle spider, that, from overhead,
Hung like a spy on human guilt and error,
Suddenly turned, and up its slender thread
Ran with a nimble terror.

The very stains and fractures on the wall,
Assuming features solemn and terrific,
Hinted some tragedy of that old hall,
Locked up in hieroglyphic.

Some tale that might, perchance, have solved the doubt,
Wherefore, among those flags so dull and livid,
The banner of the bloody hand shone out
So ominously vivid.

Some key to that inscrutable appeal
Which made the very frame of Nature quiver,
And every thrilling nerve and fiber feel
So ague-like a shiver.

For over all there hung a cloud of fear,
A sense of mystery the spirit daunted,
And said, as plain as whisper in the ear,
The place is haunted!

Prophetic hints that filled the soul with dread,
But through one gloomy entrance pointing mostly,
The while some secret inspiration said,
“That chamber is the ghostly!”

Across the door no gossamer festoon
Swung pendulous, --no web, no dusty fringes,
No silky chrysalis or white cocoon,
About its nooks and hinges.

The spider shunned the interdicted room,
The moth, the beetle, and the fly were banished,
And when the sunbeam fell athwart the gloom,
The very midge had vanished.

One lonely ray that glanced upon a bed,
As if with awful aim direct and certain,
To show the Bloody Hand, in burning red,
Embroidered on the curtain.


-Thomas Hood

More Halloween Lo Fi

Click on the pic for more Lo Fi beats for Halloween.

There's Still Time!

ShellHawk's Creations Etsy store is open and you can still get your handmade Halloween fix in time for the big night! Click on any of these pics to be taken to the listing.

Recent reviews:

"Once I got the item which is beautiful btw. I noticed that I had gotten some sister pumpkins years ago that seemed a bit similar. Sure enough they are related. Signed ShellHawks Creations. Thanks so much for continuing your art. So I can continue to collect. Your stuff is beautiful." - Will

"Love this necklace it’s so well made. The colors of the beads and the crow/raven pendant its orange background. It’s perfect to wear all year around, not just for Halloween. I’m the raven/crow in Native American astrology. So I feel so connected to this . Lots of lil Halloween gifts were closed too very well packaged with lots of love and care. Thank you so much." - dkmk2004

"This piece is delightfully spooky and so well crafted by such a gifted potter!! Lickity-split shipping and packaged with care to assure a safe journey—so very pleased!!!" -gundersnaps2

"ShellHawk is the best ever and everyone should buy stuff from her." - Rachel

I particularly like that last review... ;)

Spooky Town

This post contains links to Amazon and I may get compensation for qualifying purchases. Not that it's likely, but legal crap, blah, blah...

It's finally happened. 

After years of being a divorced old lady, I've finally become that old lady who collects Lemax village components.

It occurred to me that three little buildings, while fun, were not enough for a real impact. So. Um.

I bought three more.

Can you believe my dad told me I shouldn't buy any more? 

It's like he doesn't even know me...

I love the detail on them!

You can get the Crypt of the Lost Pumpkin Souls here. Black Raven Manor is here. Evil Spirits Whiskey Distillery is here. Witches Tower is here. Gothic Hills Funeral Parlor is here. Raven Hill Mortuary is here.

Hallowe'ens Past

That Glenn Miller tack got me into the mood for some vintage Hallowe'en tunes. Click on the pic for the playlist of 1920's -1960's treats!

Swingin' at the Seance

SWINGIN' AT THE SEANCE

Lyrics and music by Al Avey, Ernie Carnice and Eddie Stone

Dorothy Claire with the Glenn Miller Orchestra 

 

In a house up on a rock 

along the countryside

At precisely twelve o'clock

the spooks begin to rise

Swingin' at the seance

twelve ticks

Swingin' at the seance

hot licks

With the medium in trance 

How that horn began to dance 

 

Swingin' at the seance 

five men

Swingin' at the seance 

jive men 

When the trumpet blasted out

All the spooks began to shout

 

That music came through so sweetly low-down 

Yet nobody knew who was riff-riff-riffin' around

 

Swingin' at the seance

black coats

Swingin' at the seance

blue notes

 

While the trumpet could have won a cup

Its jivin' broke the seance up 

And who do you think was a-riffin' away? 

No one else but Billy May

Listen to this lively tune played by The Glenn Miller Orchestra here.

Ruined

McKeesport, PA abandoned home. It collapsed just hours
after this photo was taken. Photo by Seph Lawless.
 

Mansfield Reformatory, Cleveland, Ohio

Mayfield House, County Waterford, Ireland 

Dicksonia Plantation, Lowndesboro, Alabama

Kolmanskop, Namibia, Africa

Belchite, Spain

Heartless Bones!

Click on the pic for a delightfully sinister performance from those skeletons over at the Bates Haunt...

ShellHawk's Creations Shop is Open!

If you've been waiting for my shop to reopen after my annual Artist Open House, wait no more! It's open and expedited shipping is available!

I'll be adding more pieces over the next few days, so be sure to check back frequently to be sure you're not missing out!

The Railroad Signal-Man

Moonville Tunnel, McArthur, Ohio

I shouted out to him, "Hello, down there!"

Before he could answer, there was a vibration in the earth which quickly turned into a violent pulsation as a train roared out of the tunnel!

It seems that trains have a reputation for taking lives in the most gruesome of ways, so it's logical that train tunnels are such haunted places...

For the rest of the story, click on the pic.  

My Scary Bookshelf

Click on the pic for the collection of spooky stories!

The Grandson: A book?

The Grandfather: That's right. When I was your age, television was called books.

I'm sure The Grandfather didn't mean a collection of horror stories, but, well, it seemed like a good quote for reminding you of all the good Hallowe'en and horror books out there!

I share My Scary Bookshelf yearly, so folks have a chance to get something they may have forgotten about since the previous Hallowe'en month. After all, this is the season to curl up with a nice cuppa and read a spooky book!

Unpleasant reading, my fiends!

Artist Open House Today!

This here baby is already in his new home, scaring the spooks away from his new owner's front door!

Yesterday... Well... It was a long day, and I was on my feet for almost all of it.

 It's my yearly "deep-clean-before-people-come-tomorrow" day, and that took a couple of hours. I do wash the patio down from time to time to keep the clay dust to a minimum, after sweeping up the larger chunks while wearing a KN-97 mask (inhaling clay dust can lead to silicosis, which, um, no thank you), but a deep cleaning requires moving the furniture and the lion's share of my ceramics equipment off the patio area and the trash cans from their nook. 

Dead wasps? Washed away. Cobwebs? Gone. Literal, garden-variety dirt? Swept up and dumped back into the garden beds. I even take the pressure nozzle and knock the dead leaves off of our old wisteria vine so there aren't many to deal with the next day.

So today is setup and I have to get rolling. Keep an eye out for my shop to reopen in the next day or two so you can grab a Halloween thing for yourself!

Next up in my making cycle: Krampuslauf!

Halloween at High Noon: Repulsion Nocturne

One of my favorite Hallowe'en groups, Halloween at High Noon, has dropped their new album over at Band Camp! Head over there and give it a listen, then support them by purchasing it!

That's it. That's the post. :D  

Dark Harvest is Here!

Today's the day! Dark Harvest has dropped as video on demand and is available to rent or purchase on Amazon!

"In a small Midwestern town, a deadly annual ritual unfolds when the mythical nightmare, Sawtooth Jack, rises from the cornfields and challenges the town’s teenage boys in a bloody battle of survival."

If you missed my previous announcement, Dark Harvest was originally a creepy Halloween book written by Norman Partridge.

"Halloween, 1963. They call him the October Boy, or Ol' Hacksaw Face, or Sawtooth Jack. Whatever the name, everybody in this small Midwestern town knows who he is. How he rises from the cornfields every Halloween, a butcher knife in his hand, and makes his way toward town, where gangs of teenage boys eagerly await their chance to confront the legendary nightmare. Both the hunter and the hunted, the October Boy is the prize in an annual rite of life and death.

Pete McCormick knows that killing the October Boy is his one chance to escape a dead-end future in this one-horse town. He's willing to risk everything, including his life, to be a winner for once. But before the night is over, Pete will look into the saw-toothed face of horror - and discover the terrifying true secret of the October Boy..."

I am crossing my fingers that the film does the book justice! It's one of my favorite Hallowe'en reads and I've been hoping for a while it would be brought to the screen. And while straight to video can be a concern, the horror classic Trick 'r Treat was released directly onto video, and it was glorious!

I'm having a watch party with friends tomorrow night. Honestly, shrimp tacos, beer, good friends, and the possibility of a good horror movie!

Thriller - The Full Experience

This post contains some links to Amazon, from which I may get compensation for qualifying purchases, although it's not bloody likely.

If you're a *ahem* person of a certain age *cough! Gen X! cough!* you'll remember what a big deal it was when the video for Michael Jackson's Thriller came out.

MTV and music videos where at their peak at that time, and the production companies were desperately trying to keep the interest of millions of teenagers by creating musical stories which were eye-catching and buzz-worthy. It was getting harder and harder to stand out amid all the noise of promoting thousands of songs and driving kids to the record store to pick up the latest hits.

And then, Thriller dropped...

We freaked. We screamed. We spent endless hours in front of the TV, figuring out  the choreography (Thank you to Michael Peters, may you Rest in Power) for the now-famous dance scene in the middle of the video.

This alone was a huge challenge, as there was no such thing as a DVR! We had to have a VCR at home (an expensive luxury), have MTV (cable was another expensive luxury), wait endless hours for Thriller to be played  (we never knew when that would happen), and have a blank VHS cassette tape loaded into the VCR and waiting to record, and even then it wasn't guaranteed we would have it for long enough to learn the routine, because our parents were vicious about recording over what we had so painstakingly ripped off from MTV.

It drove our parents nuts.

What made this video so unique was a combination of length (it clocked in at 13:41, the longest music video made at the time) production value, and the high quality creative team it attracted. 

John Landis (An American Werewolf in London, The Blues Brothers, National Lampoon's Animal House, Twilight Zone: The Movie) was on-boarded as the director, co-producer and co-writer. Robert Paynter, B.S.C. (British Society of Cinematographers) came on as the Director of Photography (An American Werewolf in London, Curtains, Trading Places). The now-legendary Rick Baker (An American Werewolf in London, The Howling, Altered States, Ghost Story, The Funhouse) created the makeup effects we now know so well. Ola Ray (Night Shift, Trading Places) played Jackson's girlfriend.

Even the movie theater used for the exterior shots (interior theater shots were done at The Rialto in Pasadena, California), The Palace, gained its fame by being the oldest movie theater in Los Angeles! You can check out the other locations used here. 

 

As with almost everything one sees on screen, the background of Thriller was carefully curated by the crew to appeal to the horror movie aficionado.

Classic movie posters from various Vincent Price films (The Mask of the Red Death, The House of Wax, The Mad Magician, The House on Haunted Hill) adorned the exterior of the movie theater, in addition to several visual hat-tips to more then-current horror films.

And of course, Vincent Price took top billing on The Palace's iconic neon marquee! 

I'm fairly sure most of Gen X has the famous Vincent Price rap committed to memory, but many don't realize the final cut of both the music video and the album track didn't contain the original, full version, included below.

Darkness falls across the land
The midnight hour is close at hand
Creatures crawl in search of blood
To terrorize y'all's neighborhood

And whosoever shall be found
Without the soul for getting down
Must stand and face the hounds of hell
And rot inside a corpses shell

The demons squeal in sheer delight
It's you they spy, so plump, so right
For although the groove is hard to beat
It's still you stand with frozen feet
 

You try to run, you try to scream
But no more sun you'll ever see
For evil reached from the crypt

To crush you in its icy grip

The foulest stench is in the air
The funk of forty thousand years
And grizzly ghouls from every tomb
Are closing in to seal your doom
 

And though you fight to stay alive
Your body starts to shiver
For no mere mortal can resist
The evil of the thriller

 

Can you dig it?

Price's trademark maniacal laugh at the end was chef's kiss, of course, and Thriller would not have been the same without his deft voice work.

For more behind-the-scenes thrills and chills, watch this.