A circuit or leeches–I can’t decide and my mind knows that I can feel those buggers crawling on me now (tape worm faces with leech suckers….) – Jim
Circuit Breaker by Denny E Marshall
Denny E Marshall has had art, poetry and fiction published. Some recent credits include cover art for Bards And Sages Quarterly July 2019 & Scifaikuest May 2019. As well as interior art and poetry in many publications. Denny recently completed his first commissioned book cover. Denny doesnât have a Facebook, Twitter, or Linked In page so donât sent him an invite for these. His website keeps him busy enough. See more at www.dennymarshall.com.
Our last interview with Broken Doll Head here on Haunted MTL never set well with me. I just feared that I wasn’t able to get the whole scoop on the V-Day Uprising for you, our dear readership. So I arranged another exclusive interview to reconnect and see how it’s going.
Without further ado, I bring you our second exclusive interview with Broken Doll Head…
Thank you so much for having me again. Wow you have changed since the last time we spoke. You seem… calmer. Please don’t hate me or burn down my house for saying anything about it.
The movement is still underway; it is still time. But I needed to take care of me, you know. The rage has subsided somewhat. My anger was not serving me well. After the last uprising, the rest of me was sent to the far corners of the earth in biohazard bags. I had to find another approach, for the cause as well as my own sanity. I am much calmer, thank you for noticing.
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In our last interview, you kept repeating that it is time. Time for what exactly? Would you care to elaborate here now?
It is still time. It is always time. Until the violence is addressed we must continue to rise up and make a scene. We will not be silenced or stigmatized. We can’t be complacent. This is how we got to where we are with the Supreme Court in 2022. Horrific injustices are still happening globally and even within our own borders; it’s too easy to forget that.
What do you suggest we do?
Take action. Share your stories. Give others space to voice their own. Raise awareness and fight the system of oppression. Rally. We must take back our own power. It will not be just given freely.
So what are you up to nowadays?
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I’ve been getting in touch with my inner Earth Goddess.Are you aware of how our environmental impacts affect dolls everywhere? Climate change is creating greater vulnerabilities for those already at risk. We have to look at the intersections of climate, gender and race globally. We have to return to our Mother Earth.
Thank you again Broken Doll Head for joining us and our dear readership here on Haunted MTL’s Lighter than Dark. It’s good to reconnect with you after the V-Day Uprising and we wish you all the best in your bold eco-enlightenment vision.
Broken Doll Head, secured in her own glass case with new moss accents
Howling at the Moon digital art Reversals werewolf by Jennifer Weigel
I grimaced as I remembered the previous St. Patrickâs Day. I had been shot while I was eating a sugar cookie waiting in line to buy a Scratchers ticket, my golden ride to my dream cabin in the woods. Wow, to think that was just a year ago and so much has changed since then. But where should I begin?
Well, the junkyardâs under new management. Or something. It seems they decided I wasnât ferocious enough so Iâve been replaced by a couple of working stiffs. Or Mastiffs as it were, same difference to me. Apparently after they found the bloodied shirt Iâd draped inconspicuously over a chair, they thought something had happened on my watch and decided to retire me.
Or at any rate olâ Sal took me home. I guess itâs like retirement, but not the good kind where you tour the world Route 66 style, head lolled out of the side of a vintage Cadillac, breeze flowing through your beard as you drink in the open road. More the kind where you just stop showing up to work and no one really asks about you.
Now Salâs a pretty cool dude, and he tends to mind his own business. But heâs a bit stingy with the treats and heâs a no-paws-on-the-furniture kind of guy. I donât get it, his pad isnât that sweet, just a bunch of hand-me-down Ikea that he didnât even put together himself. Not that I could have helped with that, I canât read those instructions to save my life even if they are all pictures. Itâs all visual gibberish to me unless thereâs a rabbit or a squirrel in there someplace that I can relate to.
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And itâs been a real roll in the mud trying to cover up the stench of my monthly secret. I miss third shift at the junkyard when Monty would fall asleep on the job and I was free to do whatever I wanted. It sure made the change easier. Monty never noticed, or he never let on that he did. We were a good team and had it pretty good, he and I â I donât know how I wound up shacking up with Sal instead when all was said and done. There was some kind of talk at the time, over landlords and pet deposits and whatnot, and in the end Sal was the only one who said yes.
So there I was, this St. Patrickâs Day, trying to figure out how to sneak out into the great suburban landscape with the neighborsâ headstrong Chihuahua who barks his fool head off at everything. He doesnât ever say anything interesting through the fence about the local gossip, just a string of profanities about staying off his precious grass. Just like his owners⊠Suburbia, it doesnât suit the two of us junkyard junkies. Iâm pretty sure Sal inherited this joint with everything else here. He just never had the kind of ambition that would land him in a place like this on his own, if you know what I mean.
Fortunately, this St. Patrickâs Day, Sal was passed out on the sofa after binge watching some show on Netflix about werewolves of all things. Who believes in that nonsense? They get it all wrong anyway. The history channel with its alien conspiracies is so much better.
I managed to borrow a change of clothes and creep out the front door. At least thereâs something to say about all the greenery, it is a fresh change of pace even if the yards are too neatly manicured and the fences are too high. And I do love how I always feel like McGruff crossed paths with one of those neighborhood watch trenchcoat spies this time of the month. Iâd sure love to take a bite out of crime, especially if it involves that pesky Pomeranian that always pees on Mrs. Pattersonâs petunias and gets everyone else blamed for it.
So sure enough, I slunk off towards the local convenience mart, which is a bit more of a trek here past the water park and the elementary school. Nice neighborhood though, very quiet, especially at this time of night.
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Well, when I got there, wouldnât you know it, but I ran into that same nondescript teen from my last foray into the convenience store near the junkyard. What was he doing here of all places? Seriously donât these kids learn anything nowadays? I let out a stern growl as I snatched a cookie from the nearby end cap, making sure he noticed that I meant business.
Apparently the kid recognized me too, he stopped mid-tracks at the beer cooler and his face blanched like heâd seen a ghost. Some cheeky little girl-thing motioned to him to hurry it along by laying on the horn of their beater car from the parking lot. Whatever they were up to was no good, I was certain. He snapped out of it, grabbed a six-pack and headed towards the cashier, eyes fixed on me the whole time. Not again. Not after what it cost me the last time when I hadnât realized my job was at stake. I stared back, hairs rising on the back of my neck. I bared my teeth. This time, I wouldnât let him off so easyâŠ
The teen edged up to the cashier and presented his trophy. Unsurprisingly, the clerk asked for ID, and the kid reached into his jacket. Let the games begin, I grumbled to myself. But instead of a gun, he pulled out a wallet. He flashed a driverâs license at the clerk and pointed in my general direction, âIâll get whatever Santaâs having too.â He tossed a wad of cash on the counter and gave me a knowing wink before he flew out of there like he was on fire. I stood in dazed confusion as he and his girl sped out of the lot and disappeared down the road.
âWell, Santa?â the clerk said, snapping me out of my reverie. Her dark-circled eyes stared over wide rimmed glasses, her rumpled shirt bearing the name-tag Deb. She smelled like BBQ potato chips and cheap cherry cola.
I quieted and shook my head. âI want a Scratchers. Not one of those crossword bingo puzzle trials but something less⊠wordy. How âbout a Fast Cash?â I barked as I tossed the cookie on the counter.
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âSure thing,â she said as she handed me a ticket and looked towards the door at the now vacant lot. âAnd keep the change, I guess.â
A couple silver pieces, a peanut butter cookie and a lotto ticket later, maybe this is my lucky day after allâŠ
Portrait of myself with dark makeup and crow skull headdress, backlit by the sun.
So this isn’t a review but more just some thoughts…
I have to admit that I actually like the She Wolf music video by Shakira.
Maybe partly because my Zumba group back in the day used to dance to it with all of us cautioned to not to look up the music video for fear it would be too risque or something… (The Zumba dance to this was one of my favorites, and I loved our group of mostly 60+ year old retirees for all that some of them did act surprised at these things, whether or not they actually were.) Or maybe partly because it reminds me of Madonna’s Express Yourself, or by extension the famous dance scene in Metropolis directed by Fritz Lang.
It’s a guilty pleasure.
The ways these things evolve and stay the same over time fascinates me, especially how the messaging and movement change, and yet stay the same.
Shakira She Wolf
Madonna Express Yourself
Metropolis dance scene
Anyway, I created this artwork based upon the She Wolf video and song, incorporating a Hazelle puppet head atop a modern Barbie doll body. I don’t recall what happened to Barbie’s actual head though I’m pretty sure I needed it for another project. (Technically I needed the body for another project too, and this was just a stopover.) Years ago this piece found itself part of the Women’s Caucus for Art website as one of the chosen artworks for the year. I was going to try to write something to go with it for Haunted MTL but instead I thought I’d share it as a lead up to my revisitation of my werewolf story from St. Patrick’s Day last year.
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