I think that it's probably best not to really embellish this story or try to "write" it, if you will. This is more of a documentary take on the events which follow, standing objectively apart and observing rather than commenting.

That said, while the following happenings have no connection whatsoever with my previous blogs, and should not be looked at as connecting or related events, the reader might find it serendipidous to simply review the blogs prior, especially those involving Jessica.

Now, having said all the above, I will make one brief comment, and that is this: there are many things around us which we do not understand, and for the great majority of these things, basic understanding or comprehension is out of the realm of our human capability.

To the right you'll see a photo of myself and my friends taken on the evening of March 5th, 2007. From left to right are Rory Dale, Carla McDonald, myself (with the beer) and Courtney Oliver (yes, if you were wondering that is the painting from the play Art in the background). The four of us are at my apartment home on Central avenue here in Memphis, and we had recently enjoyed a large meal and had spent not a small amount of time relaxing and quaffing beverages, including a very nice Somona Coast pinot noir. When Rory arrived at my house, he made specific note of the neighbors house, and stated that he "would get in there" by the end of the night. For reference please note the next photo: the neighbors.

In fact, "the neighbors" are not really neighbors at all but a large abandonded stone castle. The castle is for sale, and has been for many years. Memphians remember this as a nightclub owned by a prominant and offbeat resident during the 1990s. The building itself, however, is called Ashler Hall, and was build in 1896. It is listed on the National Historic Registry. I've also included a panoramic of the front of the building, and you will be able to see my building on the left, followed by Carla's old building on the right, and the Red Cross across the street, etc. Most likely resulting from the various beverages consumed during the evening, Rory's earlier idea to "get in there" seemed more and more plausible and entertaining to me and our companions, and we made the attempt at somewhere around one in the morning. Rory scaled the fence first, followed by myself (see photos following). I had a slightly more difficult time as I was wearing Heelies, and having wheels on the bottom of one's shoes is certainly no help when scaling eight foot fences.

THE PANORAMIC:

THE SCALING OF THE FENCE - RORY, THEN AARON (IN HEELIES):

It was only after both Rory and I had scaled the fence that Courtney indeed noticed that the gate about four yards to the left was in fact open and ajar. Finding no interest in the open gate having already scaled the fence, I continued on, following Rory's voice which was exclaiming "I can't believe this car is open" in a British accent. Indeed, there was a car in the driveway. It was a 1948 Chrysler Windsor hearse, and it was open.

It was at this point that Rory came up with the idea that he should have the car. Possibly because his own car is currently without a transmission, or simply due to the fact that it was a really cool car, but Rory nonetheless was drawing up plans for an escapade at a later date to somehow liberate the car from it's rather forsaken situation.

I was paying no attention, however. The car, in my estimation, was much less interesting - or downright spooky - than what was inside the car. The contents, to me, proved much more disturbing that the fact that it was sitting there, unlocked.

Barely believing my own eyes, I sat for a moment staring at the numerous objects before hurling one over the fence to Carla, the only other person who could fully understand the scope of the increasingly bizarre situation now unfolding before us. As Carla came over to the fence, this is what she saw:

Yes. A mannequin head. The car was filled with many of them.

Jessica, a mannequin head that Carla and I knew well was from a completely different situation. She/he/it has made numerous appearances throughout January and February, mostly at performances of the show The Wild Party at Circuit playhouse, where she/he/it worked as a wig stand for Queenie's (Carla's character's) blond hair, and most recently Jessica make a brief appearance in Little Rock at a Bouffonts gig (see previous blog).

But Jessica was nowhere to be seen here. She/he/it had nothing to do with this evening. And it did seem bizarre to me that so many of her kind were simply left for dead in a junked-out old car in front of a run-down castle in Memphis, TN.

Not knowing what to think, I began looking into the castle and it's owner, Prince Mongo today. As I google-searched him, I began to get closer to a few answers with quotes such as "Mannequins continuously bring me information from my planet." from a 2005 Memphis Flyer article. To help shed a little light on the issue, I include the following entry from Wikipedia:

Robert Hodges, better known by his self-styled moniker Prince Mongo, is a Memphis eccentric and minor political personality. He claims to be the ambassador of the planet of Zambodia and claims to be 333 years old.

Hodges is famous in Memphis, where he has owned several large nightclubs in the town, including the giant Prince Mongo's Planet — three stories and 30,000 square feet of partying — and another called the Castle, which was housed in a century-old stone mansion. He has also run for and been defeated as a Mayoral candidate on several occasions.

Hodges is apparently financially secure, rumored to be family money, but nobody has been able to verify the source of his wealth. He owns a $2 million Fort Lauderdale home near Las Olas Boulevard. He also owns homes in Virginia Beach and Memphis.

Once, he was jailed for dumping trash in the yard of one of his enemies. He was also dogged by lawsuits over the drunk-driving deaths of two teenagers who died after they were served beer at the Castle in 1992.

He is also notable for a September 2002 run-in with the Shelby County General Sessions Court, which had ordered him to remove a collection of patio furniture, beach umbrellas, mannequin heads, toilet seats, and other items from his East Memphis front yard. He challenged the order in court, appearing in a green cape and goggles, green body paint, and festooned with a rubber chicken. He was charged with contempt of court, sent to prison for ten days, and was fined $13,875. He vowed to fight the case, but on June 10, 2004, pled guilty and paid a $500 penalty.

His stunts have made him a household name in Memphis, and got him featured on the 1980s television show Real People.

He claims that he's been living winters in Fort Lauderdale for 33 years, but county records show he's owned the home only since 1985. When he leaves for parts north, he still doesn't lock the doors. "Anybody can come in here anytime and take what they please," he says. "I don't care. I'll give anything away. People are always walking off with my TVs. I don't mind. I have a terrible phobia about throwing things away. Why throw things away when you can give it away?"

btw. Prince Mongo does have a mySpace. You should add him.