Finally, a Revelation

At last, I believe that I have found the solution. The past few days have been unusually fortuitous, and while I do not yet possess all of the necessary materials, I now know that they are within reach. 

Perhaps I should have tapped my fans on the internet sooner, as they have been a fantastic source for both information and counsel.  None of this would have been possible without you. I am extremely grateful for the help you have all provided. Without your assistance, I would still be exploring old books and modern science, blind to the truth that now confronts me. It was always there, just outside my notice.

In the coming days and weeks, I will need you more than ever to secure the final missing components. Rest assured that I will be in contact, and that once my great work is complete we will share in the fruits of this labor.

There have been many requests for an interview. When this is done, I will happily grant one, so all the world can know of what we’ve accomplished.

Why I Left

I’ve received some messages as of late that have opened up old wounds. The number of questions posed to me were many. Why did I disappear? Why would I let one bad review take me from the career that I loved?

As much muck as the tabloids tend to rake, I’m surprised the details of this incident never reached the newsstand. The night in question, a Friday, October 13, 1972, there was a special screening of one of my classic films at the Palace Theater. Helen Dean, a pretty young actress 15 years my junior, was one of my co-stars in my more recent films. Helen was just getting her career started, and the press was all over her that night. This was my starring role. Not hers. I was furious, at the time, about them making such a personal affront to me.

My reaction should come as no surprise, given my mood that night, when one of the press had the sheer audacity to, in the middle of the film, bring up the contents of a recent movie review to me. The critic had taken issue with, what he felt was, my being miscast as far too old to play a part. The level of disrespect shown to the screening, and to me, was simply too much for me to bear. That would be the last time I appeared publicly, and my last association with my home, Silver Crypt Studios.

The answer to why I let it affect me as it did is simple, there was a stinging truth to it all. They said I looked too old, and I was. I was past my prime. Once your vitality starts to dwindle, it fades quickly. Just imagine every imperfection of yourself magnified several times over on the silver screen, as mine were. It’s not an attractive prospect, is it?

While I may have taken a bit of time here to wallow in the past, I will not allow the shadows of history to obscure my efforts. There is no doubt that I will find a new road to take. Already, my online fans have brought new and fascinating avenues for me to explore. Throughout my life, I've become accustomed to getting what I want. This will be no exception.

The Path Ahead

I am not entirely sure why I have neglected this space for so long. My research has been consuming, and perhaps I have found more solace and connection to pen and paper than to the cold white light of my computer screen. Nevertheless, I now have a presence on Twitter, and I am finding some new connections with fans of modern horror who have never heard of me or of my films.

These connections are a small but present motivation to continue my work. Much of the research that I have pursued has come slowly, but inexorably, to a close. The raging streams that I had once eagerly followed are dry now, and I am at a loss as to which path to follow next. Perhaps it will come to me as I scour my books and, increasingly, the internet. However the scant few answers that I have found seem to be too far in the future, and nothing from history has served me.

I have discovered in the past that these times are precisely when you must continue to forge ahead, with great strength and resolve of purpose. Tonight I will revisit, methodically, the path that brought me to where I stand today. Perhaps there was a clarity of purpose in these early years that will shed some light, now that I look at it with the filter of experience.

The Limitations of Science

I spoke with several biological engineers and researchers about the possibility of utilizing the methods from my previous musings on the immortal jellyfish. They are all shortsighted and say that this type of research is decades or centuries away from producing any real results. I know there are ways to get research done quickly, and they are concerned with methodical rules and regulations. A solution 100 years from now, or even 30 years from now will do me no good. Relying exclusively on others is a dead end, I must continue to find my own means of getting things done, as Bathory once did.

Laws of Nature

A friend and reader recently passed on an article to me – a jellyfish that does not die, and maintains its eternal youth. Fascinating!

http://8e.devbio.com/preview_article.php?ch=2&id=6

"The hydrozoan Turritopsis nutricula ... appears to have achieved immortality. The solitary medusa of this species can revert to its polyp stage after becoming sexually mature (Bavestrello et al., 1992; Piraino et al., 1996). In the laboratory, 100% of these medusae regularly undergo this change. Thus, it is possible that organismic death does not occur in this species!"

Surely this ability can be harnessed and turned into something useful for human beings. Animal traits combined with human physiology could produce something greater than either alone. There is no mistake that in our literature, werewolves and other hybrid creations are a common theme.

If we are to break the rules of Mother Nature, we should take the best of what she has to offer.

Lessons from the Nursery

I was never very close with the majority of my many step-children. At the time, I told myself I shouldn’t concern myself with them. But I was wrong. Young people have a unique way of doing things, and show a power of imagination that people sorely lack as they age.

It seems that children have a penchant for deceiving their parents. There were times when I was alone looking after them, their fathers off doing business. I would quickly grow tired of their company and send them to bed. I recall checking on them to make sure they had gone to sleep. As I approached their rooms, the floor boards invariably creaked under even my light frame. I would hear the flutter of blankets and sheets as they hurried back into bed. Eyes and faces so tightly scrunched were a sure sign they were faking, but to them the deeper they were asleep, the tighter their eyelids must be compressed. A minor example of a poor, but common, deception.

Other times, though, I was genuinely impressed. On more than one occasion, from several different children, in several different homes, they would hide contraband in the most peculiar ways. I was often married to men who could afford abundant luxuries, and their children were just as showered with gifts as I was. The little ones knew their fathers and I had no interest in their silly playthings.

Children with too much money have a tendency to buy things they shouldn’t. One of my first husband’s little delinquents had a love for horribly violent comic books, published before congress forced them to clean up their act. Well, I found a stash of them in his toy chest. He was far too young and fragile, and making sure a developing mind remains untainted is the duty of a good parent.

Still, others astonished more. One hid make-up, which she would carefully apply before, and then remove promptly after school, in her dollhouse. Another kept bottles of soda, which his father expressly forbade, in his tree house. Certainly none impressed more than the incident with the firecrackers hidden in the neck of a stuffed giraffe.

After episodes like that, I was convinced that strictness bred creativity. Perhaps the cruel constriction of time might have the same effect for me.

John Kellogg

While researching radical diet changes that are said to promote health, I was reminded of the misguided efforts of John Kellogg http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Harvey_Kellogg. The man seemed to be obsessed with stamping out passion and energy from life, a way of living that I most assuredly would abhor.

His way of thinking does beg the question though, is a simple alteration of one’s diet capable of producing drastic changes in health and demeanor? Are there specific foods that might tap into the wells of youth? Our tastes change as we age, as our taste buds wither and die, so might it be wise to look to the tastes of children to determine what we should consume?

The Immortal Spirit

Throughout history, many men and women have sought eternal youth. The Babylonians, the Egyptians, the Greeks, the Romans, even our own Western traditions, it is one of the constants in all of our history.

Countess Elizabeth Bathory, of Hungarian legend, comes to my mind first. A truly exemplary woman, who took her own fate into her hands. She failed because she didn’t test her methods. She believed bathing in the blood of a virgin woman would keep her eternally young.

She lacked a control test. There are several easy experiments one could have set up, and with modern methods and thinking, I have no doubt she’d have been tireless in her research to find a way.

The Vagaries of Fate

Time and fate are cruel masters. So then, if possible, we should turn against them and strike back against what is unfair and what is unjust. That my career should end so abruptly, while I was still so young, is wrong. Nearly 40 years have passed, the hope that I would ever rekindle a career is absurd. My name, my films, are not even known by the youth of today. They will squander their time in the spotlight, and then, they too, will decay as I have.

The difference, however, is that they will not do anything about it, but I will. I have been looking for a solution to this dilemma now for a great many years. Since my fall from fame, it has been my sole ambition. The pieces are elusive, and yet I will draw them out and stitch them together. My quest as easy as plucking the feathers from a bird, an elementary task so long as you have the resolve.

On Modern Beauty

It has become apparent over the course of my career that younger actresses will always be given preferential treatment. Understandable, given the nature and quality of men, the greedy hogs that one finds behind the desks of Hollywood in particular. When my youth began to escape, it is no surprise that the press and public turned their backs to me. I cannot say that I blame them, but they will see the the error of their ways.

Youth and beauty are transient, yes. But I ask, are they not obtainable again? If one could put on beauty as simply as one puts on makeup or carves their face to shreds with surgeries and implantations, would we fade away? I don’t believe so. The timeless talents of the silver screen would continue to be the vibrant, glistening gems of a new film era.

When you compare today’s pathetic teen idols to yesterday’s stars, one is but a spec of dust, lost in the majesty and radiance of true glamour. Where did the sense of style go? Where is the respect and reverence for the craft? The days of the Hollywood royalty I worked with are gone. In their place is a new breed of celebrities parading their many faults on stage. Their audience just as eager to see them crumble and fall as to adore them.

Welcome to my journal

My name is Evelyn Crane. No doubt you have heard my name. I was a star, once. My repertoire included such film classics as the Skeleton of Wolf Manor, Murder on the Edge of Night, and It Came from Beneath. In my time, I starred in over 75 pictures, playing across theaters nationwide. I was magnificent.

This online journal is now a catalog of my current projects. These ventures are a far cry from the ones of my past. These new endeavors have the capacity to change the world. You will understand in the coming months, but for now let me say that I am in pursuit of that which all men secretly want, and what they would do anything to obtain.