Last Podcast On The Left - Episode 56: A Maximillian LeBlanc Christmas

Episode Date: February 17, 2015

Join us one of the great masters of horror cinema, Maximillian Blanc (James Adomian), as he regales us with with a special Christmas recitation.

Gentlemen and ladies, in that order, good eve. It is I, Maximilian Blanc, who come to you on cave comedy radio, not as the grim visage of doom I have so oft portrayed in the classics of horror cinema, such as the deviant Dr. Hades, MGM 1971, or Silas Ornato in Orb of Doom. You may research my further credits on imdb.com, forward slash, etc. But tonight I come to you not as a madman from the cinema of horror, but merely an actor who has portrayed a madman his entire life. And now wishes to celebrate his favorite holiday, Christmas.

Silence children, lest I call down powers you know not where from. I now read a piece of poesi, if you might be persuaded to join me. Quads three nights before X-mas, when all through the land, not a body was moving, not even a hand. The carolers were hanged by the chimney to scare, as warning to all whose voice so should dare. The children were strangled all soft in their deathbeds, whilst ravenous rodent beasts chewed on their heads.

Dear mama was baked in her own turkey pan, as I devoured her brains, at last a free man. When out on the heath there arose a kerfuffle, a demonic shriek, a howl without muffle, away to the window I flew with fierce malice, to taste what ill wine fate poured in my chalice. Though midnight the moon was dimmed until gone, and a third celestial sphere shone bright as the sun, close enough. The source of the noise and my madness and crying was a fireball in heaven, and a priest who was Mayan. He rode on some serpent or spirit or spook, a Sumerian creature whose name was Marduk.

And what occasion should my sins be so reckoned but midnight on Saturday, December 22nd? Now Shiva destroyer, now Quetzalcoatl, ancient gods of vengeance, now hurling full throttle, on Comet Nubiru, Planadex, Anunnaki, on death, on winter, and the best rhyme here I suppose is Saki. And so now we tremble, all crumbled and shamed, now ex-miss slaves to the one who must not be named, and lacking an answer, or even a quick fixer. I choose the only solution, my bottle of poisoned elixir. And am I, poisoner, am I, I demise, Sir Robert, look, look to the castle, Sir Robert, and

death upon Christmas herself. So thank you to James Adomian for that wonderful Christmas poem. James' album, Low Hanging Fruit, can be found at earwolf.com and on iTunes. Check it out.