The John Pirillo Blog

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Ultraman Ace, Episode One. Is that a monster I see in your pocket, or do you just want to battle?

5/27/2016

On my blog I've been running a series of old Japanese Kaiju and giant hero tv episodes, and this is one of them.

I never realized when I was a kid watching Ultraman that he would be featured in so many movies and TV programs over time, but I guess the idea of a gigantic hero protecting earth is not lost upon all generations when our world is so full of violence and hatred.

I guess we all wish it could be better and there were super heroes to stop all the stupidity going on.

Anyway,

Enjoy

John

Just for fun! "Big Spidey Beside He" A Single Picture Book Story for Children By John Pirillo

8/4/2015

Big Spidey Beside He
A Single Picture Book Story for Children
By John Pirillo

Arnold dreamed each night he was a spider tamer.

He would crack his whip

And the Spider would descend from the ceiling,

Then take a bow to the crowd.

It was big and hairy with three pink eyes.

No surprise everyone loved it!

I just posted a picture book for children in my bookstore. "Mister Po and the Mystery of the Missing Shadow." Beautiful color illustrations.

7/8/2015

I've been working on cute little crits like the one above for many years and thought I'd share a small tale about this one in particular. It's the first of many tales.

And best of all, it looks great on an Ipad or any tablet and only costs 99cents. How can you lose?

John

(New) The Secret Life of Pets Movie Preview

6/17/2015

(New) The Second Magic, "A Young King Arthur Story" by John Pirillo

6/6/2015

This image is courtesy of ENRIQUE PARIETTI
from his 3D Portfolio.

The Second Magic
"A Young King Arthur Story"
By John Pirillo

“There was a time of magic when hearts were full of joy, and the skies filled with light. That is no more. But it will come again during the time of the Second Magic, which will be even more powerful than the first, because it will be driven by the power of love and reason.” -- Merlin

The Second Age of Magic began simply. A small child wanted something and he got it. Wendell Wimple lived in a small cottage in a village near Snowden, the eastern portion of Westmere, a growing town of abundance and industry. The village was named Caer Mare, because it was a town of mostly graveyards, and had built its industry on serving the living through serving their dead.

Wendell was not a smart child particularly, nor was he a town idiot, driven to do things because he knew no better and never would. No, he was just a simple baker’s son, who had a dream. To become a creature of magic.

So he began as all such things do with the simplest of magic. He got up that morning from his cot of straw and linen to stretch. His tiny legs barely touched the floor, even as close as his mattress was to it. He set his feet down on the cold dirt of the floor and immediately brought them back up, hugging his legs to his chest. “How I wish that every poor child had shoes to protect them from the cold!”

And that day all across the world, starting from Caer Mare every single poor child in the world woke up to a wonderful, brand new set of shoes beside their beds. No child from that moment on would need to touch the floor of their cold abodes and freeze, or whimper from the cold there.

“That sounds like a lot of nonsense.” Arthur said to Merlin, as he washed his cloak in the fresh stream pouring down from the Swords into the valley near his Crystal Caves.

Merlin winked at Arthur. “Perhaps. But it does explain how it all began.”

“So you’re telling me that this is the second magic, which you do?”

Merlin laughed, bringing his cloak up for air, and then tossing it across a broad rock to dry upon. The noonday sun was not hot, but warm enough to dry the cloak and allow seepage of comfort into his limbs as he stretched out on the grassy sward beside the stream and Arthur.

Merlin looked at his brown cloak, then at his own green pants and shirt, and then at the green staff…evergreen staff that never aged…that held his magic at times. “No, there is no second magic for me. No longer. Nor a first.” He added, seeing Arthur about to jump on his words.

“Then if not first or second, what kind is it?”

“Practical.” Merlin said, his eyes crinkling in that attitude of humor and warmth they were wont to do.

Arthur sighed, not sure he would ever get a straight answer from the wizard. “Okay. Let me rephrase my question.”

Merlin waited.

“What is practical?”

Merlin rose and eyed a stack of clothing that lay near the stream. His and Arthur’s. “Practical is you finishing the wash before it gets too cool to dry them.”

And without further word, but lots of smile etching lines in his handsome face, he set back to the Crystal Cave to work on a project he had been secretly designing for over a month now.

Arthur shrugged. “Whatever!”

He got up and began washing the pants at the top of the heap. His own. They were quite dirty because he had been training with the knights the day before and had slipped and fallen into the pig’s mud they were working in. Each day the Sergeant took them to another potential..as he called it…battlefield where they could simulate real world fighting conditions.

Arthur thought it more likely the man was just torturing them for the fun of it, since he worked for the Dark Queen. But then he shook his head. No, the man had no hint of evil about him, just a gruffness that enfolded a kind heart. Many a time the man had secretly given Arthur lessons and advice when he needed it, so he wouldn’t disappoint Uther or Morgana. Arthur was grateful for that.

He finished the pants, laid them beside Merlin’s cloak to dry, then thought about that morning.

“Har right!” Sergeant had told the men. “Today we pretend we’re fighting a dragon.”

One of the knights, a new one, barely tall enough to slip into his armor and carry it, made the mistake of asking why. “Why, sir?”

The Sarge had swung on the newbie and touched his armored chest with the tip of his mace, which he preferred over a sword. “Because when you meet one, you’re only going to get one chance to win.”

Then he tipped the young man with the mace, and sent him flying backwards to land in a swill made by the local swine. Everyone had broken into laughter, except for Arthur, who had rushed to help him regain his feet. The act had not been lost by the Sarge or the others, who stopped laughing, and suddenly got cases of conscience.

Everyone froze as two dark shadows swung across the group. Sarge turned, a scowl turning to a smile, as he faced Morgana and Uther on their steeds. He bowed. The knights fell to a knee and bowed in that manner.

Morgana gave the Sarge an icy smile. “Some men never get even one chance to defeat a dragon, let alone two!” She said with a hint of menace.

Uther touched her right wrist. “Dear Morgana, surely you can talk to the men in a more queenly fashion.”

Arthur waited for the explosion. It didn’t take long.

She spun on Uther, causing him to jerk in panic. A look neither the King’s men or Morgana’s had seen before. It quickly vanished, as she began to reprimand him. “I shall speak to them as I shall speak to them. These…are my men. And as such, they will whither where I want and when I want.”

Uther started to respond, then withered beneath her harsh glance.

The knights all pretended to be doing something else while the fight continued. Finally, Arthur did a remarkably stupid thing.

“Your majesties!” He spoke up.

They both fixed angry glares upon him. “I have found a new material for the summer cloaks you’ve been asking me for.”

Both continued to glare at him.

Arthur felt his stomach sink with his heart, and then said. “They are made of dragon silk I got from the fairies in the Golden Forest.”

Arthur was taking a chance letting out that information, but he hoped for them both to be so lost in their emotions, so as not to notice the extra bit of information he had given them. That he worked with magic and dragons.

Uther’s face lit up, as did Morganas. “When shall we have them, good man?”

Arthur stood up and half bowed. “When so shall I come hither to your castle?”

Morgana clapped her hands together in glee. “Why at once, good Arthur.”

She and Uther turned their mounts and rode back towards the castle.

Arthur stood there a moment, thinking he had been dismissed, then felt the tip of the Sarge’s mace on his behind.

“If you don’t run like the wind to get those cloaks, and catch them soon after they reach the castle, it’ll be yourself we’ll be chasing with our swords and they with their magic!”

Arthur took the cue and ran.

Which was not easy with a full coat of armor about you

But as he ran, he felt his feet grow lighter. And lighter yet again.

He looked back once and saw all the Knights laughing, but gratitude was in their faces. He had saved them.

Arthur finished washing the last of the laundry, and then sat next to the stone, allowing the heat building up within it, to warm his own water soaked hands and arms. His feet were wet as well as his britches.

He began to think as he lay there, that maybe, just maybe he knew what the second magic was.

Then he fell into a deep sleep, borne away on the wings of angels and dreams yet to be.

(New) A savage heart will always triumph! Edgar Rice Burrough's Beasts of Tarzan Audiobook, Chapter 18

6/1/2015

Max Fleischer's Superman - E16: The Underground World (1943)

5/18/2015

I hate to say this, but this wonderful production team only made 17 episodes, which is a great treasure and a loss to all of us Superman buffs.

I will never forget the stunning imagery, the power and force of these cartoons. I do believe they stirred my heart and mind and helped me to find courage to face some pretty hefty obstacles.

Rest in peace Max and Richard Fleischer and all the crew and cast of this wonderful animation series.

My next and last Superman post will be tomorrow.

(New) Edgar Rice Burrough's Beasts of Tarzan Audiobook, Chapter 1

5/14/2015

(New) Supergirl Preview. Great new show on TV!

5/13/2015

(New) Lurker in the Locker Room "A Samuel Light Junior Story" By John Pirillo

5/10/2015

Lurker in the Locker Room
"A Samuel Light Junior Story"
By John Pirillo

"It hid in the depths of the shadows, its eager eyes haunted by what it had become. It was hungry. Hungry for what it had never dared to taste before. Its hunger was not satisfied by mortal food anymore, but by something much darker in substance."

Jimbo stood in front of a campfire, his hulking form looming over the Cub Scouts arrayed in a circle about the fire. The nearest child's eyes were as wide as moons as Jimbo spoke, and if one were close enough, they would see that he peed his pants. And he wasn't the only one. Jimbo was nothing if not a great story teller.

"What happened next, Scout Master?" A Cub to his right asked, his eyes pleading for the rest of the story, even as he strove to keep his body from shaking from fear.

In the forest they were in the middle of some bushes shook. The Cubs ignored it at first, and then a pair of glowing red eyes appeared in the shadows of one of the largest trees and a growling sound. The Cubs jumped to their feet, ready to take flight.

"Whoa! Whoa, little fellows. It's only my friend and buddy, Sammie trying to put a little terror into your hearts."

At that precise moment as he finished his soothing words and the Cubs started sitting down again, Sammie walked into the light. "Hey Jimbo, where's the flashlight you left for me?"

The Cubs all jumped back up, and screaming ran off into the woods.

"Now why'd you have to go and do that for?" Jimbo asked, perplexed at how Samuel had gotten from the trees to there so fast.

"Do what?"

"Scare the kids before I finished my story, that's what?"

Samuel gave him a blank stare.

Jimbo looked back over to the trees and the glowing red eyes were still there and then the growling grew louder. "Oh Holy Mother!" Jimbo cried out, and then ran after the kids.

Samuel watched his friend run off, then sat down next to the fire and began to whistle as if nothing unusual had happened. The eyes continued to glow, but the growling had stopped. Samuel pulled out a remote control and flicked off the simple machine he had set up earlier in the day, and then reached for the nearest hot dog strung on a limb across the campfire. He tossed it from hand to hand until it cooled off, and then began eating it.

=======================================================

Samuel and the other kids all watched the clock as Mister Marvel, his real name, finished telling them their homework for the night, and then the bell rang and everyone scrambled for the door. Samuel stayed back. He went to Mister Marvel, who deftly dodged a rushing kid who almost struck him from behind.

"That device you gave me for the weekend worked like a charm."

"You're welcome, Sam. Did they all run?" He asked with a smirk.

"Every one of them, including Jimbo."

Mister Marvel laughed. "Glad I could accommodate you, your friend's been disrupting classes for years now."

"Revenge is sweet." Samuel said with a grin.

"Indeed it is. Indeed it is." But when Mister Marvel said it, Samuel didn't get the feeling he really meant it, but gave it no second thought. Adults were weird anyway.

They both felt, rather than saw a movement from the corner of their eyes, but when they turned to look, no one was there.

"See you later, Mister Marvel."

"Tomorrow."

"You got it."

Samuel exited the room and threaded his way between the rows of students talking and looking at their cells as they did, or high fiving, fist bumping or whatever exotic moves they had come up with for that week or year. A couple who sat next to him, gave him strange looks as he passed them and began talking in low voices to each other, while glancing at him.

He had gone along with the weekend fright, but thought most of it childish. The only reason why he had gone along with the scare tactics that weekend had been to get Jimbo's attention. His friend was getting too cocky. And that worried him. They had been through so much now that he worried Jimbo was going to take that kind of life as normal and lose his edge. He couldn't afford to. Not and stay alive if he was going to be with Samuel.

A locker slammed with a bang behind him and he turned around. Jimbo stood there, a strange look on his face for a moment, which he quickly dissolved into a smile. "P.E. Time."

He and Samuel hurried down the corridors, until they reached the quad, and then the front gate of the gymnasium. They were practicing basketball along with the other class members. Some for the team they hoped to get on and some just because there was nothing else to do.

The hour went pretty fast and after running defense for each other most of the time, and tossing a few hoops to the dismay of their team mates, they went back into the locker room and began undressing for their showers.

"Sammie, you'd never lie to me, would you?" Jimbo suddenly said, a look of concern on his face.

"No reason to."

"Good."

Jimbo leaned closer and in a conspiratorial voice whispered. "There's a lurker in the locker room."

Samuel started to look and Jimbo caught him with a light blow on his knee. "Don't look, give you away."

Samuel gave Jimbo a closer look. Jimbo looked frightened, even more so than the other night. What was going on?

"You see something?"

Samuel shook his head.

"If you do, whatever you do, don't tell anyone."

Samuel began to get annoyed. "Is this some kind of trick?"

"Look, Sammie, we're best friends, we'd never stoop to anything as stupid as that, would we?" He asked in his thick Texan accent.

Samuel felt a twinge of guilt. He had done something as stupid as that.

"Not really."

"Look, I've been doing some research and remember Mister Fielding?"

"The teacher that killed all those kids?"

"Yeah. That one."

"What about him?"

"Someone saw him in the locker room last night."

"Not possible. He's dead." Samuel said, and then did a double take. "You're serious!"

"Stone cold."

Samuel began a sly surveillance of the locker room. "I don't see any ghosts."

"Not this one. He only comes out at night."

Samuel sighed. "Jimbo, no way you're getting me to come back here tonight. No way in heaven...or hell!" He added for emphasis.

======================================================

Samuel and Jimbo watched the Night Watchman checking doors, and then they slipped from behind the bleachers and made a dash for the locker room. Their Nikes squeaked loudly as they ran, but not loud enough to alarm the Night Watchman. Mister Reed was deaf in one ear and they were running on that side of him, as he made his way across the dark gym floor, the stark beam of his flash lancing ahead of h im.

They made it into the locker room and carefully shut the door.

"I'll keep watch." Jimbo whispered by the door. "You see if you can, you know...see..."

"Ghosts."

"Right on."

Samuel shook his head. His Mom was going to kill him if she found out he hadn't gone over to Jimbo's as he had phoned to her. There would be hell to pay.

He brushed his mop of hair back out of his eyes and peered about the locker room. Nothing more than deep shadows and even steeper darkness. His eyes were more attuned to the dark than others. He had a special vision that allowed him to see in the dark, when others couldn't. But not only that, he could see things. Jimbo called them ghosts. Most ignorant people did. But they weren't ghosts, they were people who had died and lost their way.

Samuel did his best to help them when he could. Sometimes they didn't want to be helped; they were stubborn and incorrigible, like hardened criminals. Once he had seen one plucked right out of the body of an innocent person and hauled off into a searing bright light. Not to hell. There was no hell, but he knew that soul was going to have to go somewhere and make up for the wrong he had been doing to that child.

"See anything?" Jimbo whispered.

"Not yet."

"Keep alert. I was told it appears about nine o'clock every night. Time it was executed."

"That's stupid."

"Yeah. So's flying saucers and auras and little men who can walk through walls and climb up your nostrils, but we've seen them. Or least you have."

"Suppose."

"Look, Sammie, if you want to chicken out."

Samuel turned around. His eyes flashed with anger. "I'm no..."

"Chicken." Jimbo taunted him, and then made clucking sounds.

Samuel wanted to punch his friend at that moment, but he wasn't the sort to do that kind of thing. Wasn't in his blood. Jimbo had no such problem. He had seen him take on three kids a foot taller than him and three grades older with one hand and win.

"Next time you say that I'm going to throw my dirty gym shorts at you."

"Mercy!" Jimbo cried out.

Samuel grinned and turned back the way he had been looking, and just as he did, something moved in the distance. At the right upper corner of the lockers. It was dark and streamlined, moving like smoke.

"Jimbo." He hissed.

Jimbo ran over and crouched beside him. "See it?"

"Something. Look!" He pointed.

Jimbo looked, but he didn't see anything.

Then they heard something breathing heavily and it was moving down the other side of the lockers towards them.

"Holy Mother!" Jimbo cried out, starting to sweat.

Then it stopped at the exit from the lockers and turned to look at them with bright, burning red eyes.

A groan came from it.

"I can't see any aura." Samuel squeaked. "It's not human."

"Is it dead?"

Then the thing, whatever it was, rushed them.

Both Samuel and Jimbo dashed out the locker room door and into the gym, then outside, screaming at the top of their lungs.

The lights came on in the locker room and Samuel's Mom and Mister Marvel stood there where the thing had been, a long gossamer cloth lowered between them, with a pair of led lights attached to it.

They both broke into laughter. "That should solve both their problems." Mister Marvel said.

"I hope so. My son can be a bit cocky sometimes."

"But I think Jim is going to be a mite angry at me in the morning when I talk to the two of them with you."

"Better they should hear the truth. They need it."

Mister Marvel nodded, and then began to dissolve into the air.

"Thanks for the opportunity to work off some karma with them kids."

"You're welcome." She said, then picked up the other side of the cloth and exited the locker room, wondering how she was going to explain to Samuel how he had been listening to a ghost teacher all these weeks. She laughed. Ghost person.

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