After about 210 posts in this wild and crazy RenSpace.com blog, the time has come, I think, to choose from the 42 friends I have gathered hither thus far --- and name ten of them as best friends!
Besides, it's better than boring meself to death around here and kvetching. So:
Henceforth, you shall be included on this site's core page as me best friends; and I encourage you all to contact me as much as you can, and only if your schedules, etc. will permit you. Huzzah! to each and all!
Greetings, Mortals, and welcome to this, my 210th Missive here at my RenSpace.com Blog! Some of you have expressed a few concerns regarding what i do, how I do it, and why I'm here in the first place. Well, why don't we answer those questions right here and now?
Know, then, that I am Blackwolf the Dragonmaster, New York City's Unofficial Wizard! My job: to restore the forces of creativity and imagination to a Byg Appyl desperately in need of both; indeed, I seek to encourage my fellow New Yorkers to use their imaginations responsibly and meaningfully. The mid-to-late 20th and early 21st Century, Mortal-reckoning, represent a period of unprecedented cynicism, pessimism, and just plain old everyday bad manners! Chivalry, once so dominant in the days of King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table, has, alas, become a lost art; and nowhere has it been more ignored and unappreciated than in New York City.
My mission, then, is to prevent that from happening again, lest History end up repeating itself. I've made far too many journeys over the aeons to take such a risk; any attempt on my part to do so would only stain my reputation amongst my Wizardly peers. And so I must battle day in and day out to survive a misbehaving modern civilization before it implodes completely! Happily, there are folks like me here at RenSpace.com who are likewise devoted to furthering the cause of chivalry; and I invite them, as I invite you, to share these adventures with me.
Sunday afternoon finds your humble Dragonmaster once more vigilant in his pursuit of keeping control even as he awaits his long-hoped for encounter this Thursday hence with his Official Rock Band, Lordi. My only hope is to talk fast, think fast, and maintain me concentration. Hopefully a slice of pizza --- broccoli and/or spinach pizza, preferably; or else, failing that, sausage and/or pepperoni will do --- will solve that problem posthaste!
Sir Mikel, in gasping about my recent discovery of the bikini bar near Madison Square Garden here in Manhattan, wondered if I would be doomed to share the fate of our Exalted Father of Magecraft, Merlin, when Morgan le Fay, as the legends tell, shut him up in that horrible tree, for the purpose of filching his deepest, darkest secrets!
Happily, I can reply that the answer to that is no. It so happens, thank goodness, that I firmly believe in Look, but you better not touch; besides, I don't have time to get me head bashed in. Stick to what you know, Mumsey dearest always used to say to me; and what I know is being chivalrous --- and if I can't be chivalrous in New York City, I haven't done my job!
Anyway, I'm running out of stamina here. After my adventure at the Halloween Parade the other night, I'm not as yet properly recovered, so this is a perfect time to seek out a bit of breathing space. More to tell ye forthwith!
Saturday, November 1, 2008, 11:44 AM EST [General]
The eleventh month, my dears! And as I previously warned ye, I have revamped my opening portal --- and things couldn't have been more strange.
Last evening's adventure made things exhausting, but at least I managed a few ways to get into and out of my Wizardly threads without being incredibly stupid. But as usual, I am merely rambling on for no good reason. A Mage like me can afford to do things like that.
Now, my focus must be on the 82nd Annual Macy*s Thanksgiving Day Parade. As ever, the NBC telecast is produced by Macy*s Television, Robin Hall, Senior Vice-President, Special Events/Executive Producer; and Brad Lachman Productions in Association with Universal Media Studios.
Anywho, there's a lot on my mind, but I'm not entirely focused, particularly after last night. So methinks I shall turn what's left of me thoughts toward a sensible and gentle-hearted bikini bar a few blocks from Madison Square Garden. Aye, I remember so long ago the day ol' Poopstar, a/k/a Triumph the Insult Comic Dog, asked me if I was capable of speaking to a woman without so much as giving away me credit card number. Having not been made familiar with the basics of using a credit card, I would have stupidly said no. Fortunately, when the High Istari transformed me, they blessed me with the power of wit, which I of course used 'pon the fresh hound. The rest, as they say, is history.
Well, kiddies, it won't be long now --- a few hours hence, your humble Dragonmaster does the 35th Anniversary Greenwich Village Halloween Parade! And I do hope there aren't any hooligans for me to do battle with!
In the meantime, for those of you who haven't heard, the Philadelphia Phillies, for only the second time in their 126-year history, doth rule ye baseball wyrlde! Huzzah!
For our Philadelphia-based Renaissance Faire Royals and other enthusiasts, then, let me offer ye, from the pages of the Philadelphia Daily News, these humble words of wisdom:
THE SUN SHINES ON PHILLY
HAS THE SUN ever shone so brightly on the Schuylkill, or shimmered so brilliantly off of Liberty Place? Has our City ever looked as beautiful as it did yesterday morning?
At 9:58 on Wednesday night, Philadelphia became a better place to live. We were smiling at one another on the streets, and our hands began to hurt from far too much high-fivin'. Even our hangovers feel delicious! Life is good, filled with hope --- and pride. Anything is possible.
This is what pure joy feels like.
This is what winning does.
An entire generation of Philadelphians has lived without a baseball championship. Our frustration has bordered upon paranoia, or worse, the occult. The town felt cursed, conspired against.
And then, it was gone .... dissolved in the time it took for Brad Lidge to throw a slider for a strikeout.
As reprehensible as the damage done by out-of-control fans on Wednesday night, maybe it served as an exorcism of the last vestiges of rage at a 25-year championship drought. Perhaps, when the just concluded Parade down Broad Street to Citizens Bank Park wrapped up but mere hours ago, there was, let it be noted, a new civility in the stands, and thus, in the City. (Hey, we can dream.)
Besides, we were struck, not with how rowdy, but how young were all those crowds that poured into the streets Wednesday night. Philadelphia's torch of devotion has now been passed --- and the future looks bright for another quarter century.
We're famous, both as fans and as Philadelphians, for our "attytood," for being tough as nails. And we are, in fact, a tough town. But today, for once, we don't care if everyone knows our secret:
Inside, we're creampuffs. And 25 wonderful guys made us that way.
You got a problem with that?
I, for one, certainly don't. Indeed, it would not surprise me if there were photographs surfacing depicting the beloved Phillie Phanatic dressed in the robes of a King, and seated upon a royal Throne! If I may, then: Hail and Huzzah! unto Phanatyke II, King of all Baseball!
Well, enough nonsense, folks. This is, as you know, my last official public appearance for the year. You Mortals ain't seein' this ol' Wizard again until Springtime 2009 --- and the next Easter Parade along 5th Avenue! And anyway, I'm still on YouTube --- all eight clips of me! If you feel like it, look for me there!
Mazeltov, dearests --- and do try to behave yourselves!
