Welcome to Classic Blackwolf, my permanent showcase for the absolute best of my Wizardly scribblings --- without which, I don't think I'd be able to go on, much less maintain my reputation as New York's Unofficial Wizard! Here, dearests, are the truly classic moments that turned these Dark Chambers into the super-fantastic humble homepage it is today! Here be what ye shall find herein:
WHY MAGES MATTER
THE TALE OF THE LITTLE KNIGHT
THE OFFICIAL RULES FOR PROPER PRACTICE OF THE DISCIPLINE OF THAUMATURGY
A WIZARD @ WAR
WHY NEW YORK NEEDS WIZARDS
And now, in its entirety, the Dark Chambers presents our fearless Dragonmaster's unique, profound insights concerning the topic ---
Why Mages Matter
Recently, I received some dire news from my dear friend annd fellow Mage, Merdwin the Mediocre. Having obtained my then new costume and regalia, I had intended to travel to one of the two Renaissance Faries in mine native Shire --- if only to show meself off in me new threads, just for dear Merdwin. Alas! as the Mediocre One explained to me (and thnak goodness I learned this directly from him!), it seemed that the powers that be were toying with the idea of completely abandoning the presence of a Court Wizard altogether!
Since then, I've learned that several Faires across the country have expressed similar desires. The very idea of having a Faire without the presence of a Mage so distresses me that i am compelled to type out a few well thought-out words on the subject of Why Mages Matter.
One of my primary duties as Dragonmaster of the Grand High Istari --- those are the seven senior Wizards of the Masters of Good Magic, by the way --- is to defend the continued existence of all Magehood throughout the Multiverse; clearly, I would be less than a Mage were I to fail to speak up immediately. The last days of the 20th Century, as well as these first 10 years of the 21st, have represented an unprecedented period of constant abandoncy of the Imagination by untold scores of Mortals worldwide. Theirs remains an age whereby information technology and the power to "gain the whole story" have become far more dominant than the mere ability to simply observes the world from a child's prespective.
It was the American cartoonist Burne Hogarth who foresaw a world that would, with a million years' time or thereabouts, be inhabited by Mortals of a New Species; one that would possess a greater wisdom than ours. In his last achievement for the comic-book genre, the never-completed graphic novel Morphos, the Shapechanger (published posthumously in 1996 by Dark Horse Comics), Hogarth introduces us to a young man born from the unlikely union of a virgin female and the genetic codes of no less a Mage than our own Exalted Father Merlin, King Arthur's Magician and the celebrated Lord High Sage of all Magecraft. Indeed, 'tis Merlin who charges Morphos with becoming "the fulfillment of Merlin's destiny," his mission being to "prevent the present destruction of the world, so that there will be a future in which [the evolution of that New Mortal Species] could take place."
I believe that,, whenever a Court Wizard attends any Renaissance Faire, he or she is representing the very embodiment of the mission given to Morphos by Merlin. For we Mages are the last true dispensers (and, at that, defenders!) of honest wisdom in our Multiverse. Our main objective is to exhibit, and sometimes demonstrate, proper respect for the Laws of Nature. I myself have read a good many books by some of the leading authors of so-called "science fiction" throughout my many journeys; most of these writers have stumbled upon that very theory first espoused by Merlin concerning how we Mages maintain our grip upon the constant balance that separates Good from Evil.
For the benefit of those studying Magecraft proper for the first time, know that Merlin's Theory dictates that any potential Sorcerer's Apprentice must distinguish Sorcery (a/k/a the Discipline of Thaumaturgy from Necromancy, or Black Magic. What that means is that the practicing of Sorcery involves the energy of the would-be Wizard combined with Mother Nature's forces, and proper respect therefor; whereas in Necromancy, the user combines his/her own energy with that of any other sentient living being, with the results often proving fatal.
The Grand High Istari make it their business, then, to make sure that Mages and Mortals alike can respect the ability of ALL Magic-users to make such distinguishments, regardless of personal cost. Should there be any type of failure to so distinguish on this level, however, the results would be tantamount to pure and utter chaos!
By a similar token, a Mage must be willing to make decisions that will not affect his/her own powers, let alone their ability to both predict and see into the events of the future. For countless aeons, the Wizard world has been forbidden to even interfere with Mortal history; yet we have chronicled many tales over these periods of those among our ranks who have, for various reasons (some of them understandably personal), failed to abide by that rule. (Indeed, I myself have recently failed to abide by our dictum of not interfering with Mortal history, thus, I know whereof I speak!) Though these particular Mages need not necessarily be Necromancers, let me again say that if any such failures manifest themselves, chaos would be the horrifying result.
When the High Istari elevated me to the rank and title of Draognmaster, one of the first things they did was to cause me to take a Sacred Oath, whereby I promised, among other things, to protect all Sorcery against those who would misuse its power. Then, as now, I continue to take that Oath extremely seriously, for, as I often remind my loyal fans: "Magic has a most seductive lure, especially for those who would use it for personal gain." Accordingly, I continue to watch out for potential Sorcerers, along with their would-be Apprentices, who seek to wield the Mages' powers for their own dark, sinister, nefarious purposes.
Please forgive me, then, if I've said too much for most of you to comprehend, much less figure out; but my sole purpose in sharing these thoughts with you has been to drive home point that YES, MAGES DO MATTER!
And let's not forget the most important reason as to why Mages matter: the children.
To abandon the presence of a Mage is to abandon all that is pure and noble withini a child's own secret heart. Unless you can indeed redsicover the Universe from a child's perspective, frankly, you don't deserve to possess the ability to wield the secrets of Magecraft. So, to my fellow Wizards, Witches, Warlocks, and other Magic-users, I offer the following humble invitation: visit a Renaissance Faire and/or Medieval Festival, and then take a good, long, hard look at that boy or girl staring up at you in wonder, trying to understand why you're looking so wise and dignified. Once you do, I say, you'll have accomplished your mission. We must also team up with the Faire Industry to guarantee our continued presence as an important element of the Renaissance Faire landscape.
By that, I mean that the real measure of sharing Magic with others at Faire has its most basic roots in seeing the world from a child's eyes. I should know, having been at this wiz biz in upwards of some four thousand eight hundred years.
Let me close, however, by admitting to you that not even my wish that all my fellow Magic-users could benefit from all I've tried to say here won't really be enough to appease the situation. That, my Brother and Sister Mages, is where YOU come in. What must you do?
Share your feelings, be they of doubt, or of trust, or whatever, with fellow performers, co-workers, or administrators. Let them know whether or not you approve or disapprove of what they are and/or aren't doing to make the Faire-going experience better for everyone. If we can settle such differences fairly and reasonably, a Mage's continued presence at Faire cn provide a rich, remarkable array of possibilities that can bring about a lasting future for the overall Faire Industry.
Let's remember, too, that ours isn't exactly a typical 9-to-5 job: it's a job that requires us to be bold adventurers, imaginative dreamers, and noble-hearted philosophers all rolled into one! Bring the whole lot together, and what you have is a truly wise Wizard.
And that, my dear friends, is Why Mages Matter.
ONCE UPON A TIME.........
a King and Queen ruled their subjects from a very elegant castle. Although this particular castle had everything that their hearts desired, the King and Queen were not very happy. For one thing, the castle was quite cold. Indeed, the place was so cold that they were forced to wear blankets and bedsheets over their royal robes, just to keep warm. And that certainly did not make this Royal Couple look like a proper King and Queen in the least.
And that wasn't all.
It was, at best, an annoying situation, but the fact was, to put it bluntly, the King and Queen couldn't sleep. Night after night, Their Majesties were being kept awake by the most horrifying sounds imaginable. Those sounds belonged to a dragon who lived in a nearby cave at the top oif the adjoining hill, a few miles or so away from the castle.
Every single night, this dragon would roar as loudly as possible. It was a sound so fierce that it literally awoke most of the village!
However, there was, as often happens in tales such as this, an opposite side to this particular situation. In the dragon's case, it was that this poor fellow was no less than the world's loneliest dragon. By his own choice, he was a rather tame sort of beast; but no one in the Kingdom seemed to believe that, unfortunately. All he really wanted was for someone to pay him a visit, or, at least, spend enough time with him so that he might be able to share his favorite beverage: strawberry flavored herbal tea.
But alas! the majority of the villagers were afraid of him..... and, as a result, he was always being left alone. So off he would ramble, back to his deep, dark cave, where he'd sit all alone, feeling incredibly lonely! In fact, the dragon's loneliness was such that, night after night, he howled in sorrowful anguish; and big, huge dragon tears would drip uncontrollably down his cheeks!
Well, it wasn't long before the King decided that would have to be done about that dragon. So, late one morning, His Majesty summoned his Knights. There were four big Kinghts --- and one little Knight.
"I can't get any sleep," complained the King. "Go do something about that dragon!"
"What exactly should we do, Your Majesty?" asked one of the big Knights.
"Oh, do whatever you like," grumbled the King, "as long as it keeps that dragon quiet!"
So off the Knights went to do something about the dragon. It wasn't much of a climb, but they did make it to the top fo the hill where stood the entrance to the dragon's cave. Suddenly, quite unexpectedly, they heard the horrible sound of the dragon roaring! The big Knights were so frightened by all that noise that the yjust turned tail and ran!
But the Little Knight just kept right on going. He'd always been a brave Little Knight, and he certainly wasn't afraid of any ol' dragon! On he went, past the entrance and into the dragon's cave.
When he entered the heart of the cave, he discovered a most unexpected surprise. There, just as he'd hoped, was the dragon --- but the dragon was not behaving ferociously at all. In fact, he was crying! There he sat, his scaly head hung so shamefully. In one furry paw, he wielded his trusty, dragon-sized handkerchief, and at his feet was a huge puddle filled with all his tears, which plopped sadly down his cheeks!
The Little Knight's heart went out to the poor fellow. "Oh, you poor, dear beast!' he said.
The dragon noticed the Little Knight. "Oh, it's you," he muttered between his sobs. "Well, you might as well get on with it."
"Get on with what?"
"Slaying me, of course!" sobbed the dragon. "I'd rather be slain by a Knight than spend my whole life living like this!"
"Oh no, I just couldn't," replied the Little Knight. "I don't think it would be wise for me to slay a dragon with tears in his eyes! Maybe if you told me why you were crying, perhaps I could help."
"Well, you'd cry, too," the dragon continued his lament, "if you were the world's loneliest dragon! Everyone's afraid of me. No one bothers to visit me, much less sample my strawberry flavored herbal tea! The old-timers are the worst of the lot, too!"
"You mean, among the Humans," the Little Kinght commented.
"Yes, the Humans. They always take their children away from me every time I approach them, and they say 'You stay away from that dirty old dragon!' They even run and hide from me when I go out to pick strawberries for my tea recipe! And do you know what the really worst thing about all of this is?"
"What?"
"I don't have any friends! Boo-hoo! Boo-hoo-hoo!!!" sobbed the dragon again. That puddle of tears was growing larger every minute.
"Well, I've come to see you," said the Little Kinght. "If you like, I can bring along a sample of your strawberries back to the castle with me, so that I can prove to the King and Queen just how tame you really are. It does mean, of course, that I'll have to birng you along as well."
"And you'd do that because you aren't afraid of me?"
"No .... because I would be honored to be your very first friend. And anyway, you do owe Their Majesties an apology."
"I do?" said the dragon.
"Well, you have been keeping the whole neighborhood awake with your howls of anguish," explained the Little Knight.
"I'm sorry," said the dragon, and he meant it with all his heart. "But what's a lonely dragon to do? Boo-hoo-hoo!" And once again, those huge dragon tears streamed down his scaly face.
"Well, you could live with us at the castle," suggested the Little Knight. "I'm sure you're a true fire-breather, as all dragons are. Maybe, those fiery nostrils of yours could come in quite handy --- just to keep our castle warm. And who knows? Why, maybe you could share your strawberry tea with the King and Queen."
"You mean, I could really live with Their Majesties --- and serve them m ytea?" sniffled the dragon, who suddenly began feeling a little bit better. "Oh joy!" he then snorted happily; and in an instant, fire emerged from his huge nostrils ---- and within seconds, the cave was nice and toasty warm.
"Thank you so much, Sir Knight," said the dragon, sniffling a happy sniffle, and blowing his nose. "I can't tell you how happy you've made me!" And once more, the beast burst into tears. This time, of course, those tears were happy ones. Doubtless, the Little Knight was happy, too, having not only won the dragon's friendship, but also simultaneously solved everyone's problems, too! As these were perfect reasons, to say nothing of the fact that there was enough of the dragon's stench to cause his own copious flow of lachyrmal fluid, he soon found himself joining the dragon in a rather joyous sniffle or two.
So the two new friends spent the rest of that happy morning in the dragon's cave, each wielding a trusty hankie, sniffling between happy sobs, both their faces drenched with tears of joy! Finally, to seal their new-found friendship, the Little Knight and the dragon blew their noses together. It was the longest, loudest, and happiest sniffle anyone had ever heard!
When the Little Knight finally returned to the castle, the dragon by his side, at first the King and Queen were somewhat frightened of the beastie. "No worries, Your Majesties," said the Little Knight. "He'll be living with us from now on, to keep the castle warm and share his favorite tea with you. That is, if it's all right with you."
Then, his head raised proudly, the dragon smiled as he snorted, fire shooting straight out of his mighty nostrils! In seconds, the King and Queen threw off their heavy blankets -- and found themselves once again looking like a King and Queen!
And, once again, that wasn't all.
As it turned out, the King did indeed like strawberry flavored herbal tea. So did the Queen. Why, even the four big Knights enjoyed the dragon's tea; and they all apologized to the big fellow for being so afraid of him. For his part, the dragon forgave the big Knights, for he really was a rather tame sort of dragon, after all.
The King smiled as he took out his brightly-jeweled sword from the folds of his royal-purple-and-ermine robes. "Dragon," he said, "your heart is pure, your fire is quite warm, and you make the finest strawberry tea in the whole Kingdom. As far as I'm concerned, there is but one name that can best describe your many talents. Please lower your head."
The dragon did as he was told, and then the King tapped each of the beastie's scales very gently, saying, "From this day on, you shall be known as Heartburn; and I henceforth declare the Little Knight to become your protector and guardian. Oh yes --- and best friend, as well. I further vow that from this day on, you shall have as many friends as your humble heart desires. And so: arise, Sir Heartburn the Dragon!"
"Thank you all, my new friends!" smiled Sir Heartburn. To the Little Knight he said, "And thank you, my very first and very best friend!" And with that, he gave all his new friends a big, loving dragon hug!
So there you are. That's the Tale of the Little Knight. Visit that castle someday, and you would find a Throne Room full of some very, very happy people:
Of course, the King and Queen are happy, because their castle is warn, and they have a dragon who is very quiet (during the night, of course), and is very versatile, especially when it comes to making strawberry flaovred herbal tea!
Even happier than the King and Queen is that very dragon in question, Sir Heartburn, resting confortably on the biggest pillows in the Kingdom. Needless to say, Sir Heartburn is happy because no one's afraid of him anymore, and he has lots and lots of strawberries to pick when he needs to make more of that wonderful tea.
But happiest of all is the Little Knight, Sir Heartburn's very first, and very best friend (not to mention, his protector and guardian!). And, as you can imagine, the Little Knight is happy because --- well, because everybody else is happy. And since everybody's pretty much happy around here, there's nothing else left to say except..........
THE END!
For all its endless possiblities, even Magic is not without its share of governing laws. Like so many other things in this life, Magic is, by and large, a force to be respected, preserved, and (if need be) defended! With that in mind, it is now my privilege, both as a Mage and as a chronicler of all things Magical, to share with you..........
The Official Rules for Proper Practice of the Discipline of Thaumaturgy
as compiled by Blackwolf the Dragonmaster from the writings and ruminations of various Mages and Sorcerers throughout the Greater Multiverse
The first and probably the most important rule one may encounter should one wish to attempt to practice Thaumaturgy is that the Discipline is not intended nor should it be used specifically for the purposes of play and/or amusement. This does not apply, however, nor do I myself believe should it, if the practicing Mage is in the presence of children; furthermore, per the traditions of most Mages throughout the course of known Mortal History, children have been known to exhibit a certain fondness for the Dsiclpline, and, therefore, belief therein. It is a fondness which they themselves must be able to develop in certain ways.
The second important rule to be encountered by any would-be Wizard is that the Forces of Good and Evil are not always necessarily portrayed in mere black and white, and vice versa. One of our wisest and most beloved among ages, one Obi-wan Kenobi by name, once warned the apprentices of his generation: "Your eyes can play tricks on you. Don't trust them." Actually, the unceasing struggle between Light and Darkness follows a basic Hexagonal Pattern, in that there are six primary elements: Lawful Good, Unlawful Good and Neutral Good; and Lawful Evil, Unlawful Evil and Neutral Evil.
By tradition, a Wizard who casts a spell in the name of Lawful Good practices his/her craft in accordance with, and in proepr respect to, the Laws of Nature; whereas Unlawful Good Sorcery is practiced by those Mages for whom such Laws are far too often antiquated. Neutral Good Sorcery, meanwhile, is precticed by Wizards who, either of their own free will or by accident and/or by desgin, otherwise could not care less.
As for the Wizards who cast their spells for Evil, they are bound to the same Hexagonal Pattern. Of these, the strongest such spell-casters are usually referred to as Necromancers. As such, they neither respect nor tolerate the Laws of Nature. Indeed, as has been chronicled by various historians, the majority of these Necromancers cast their spells through the use of sentient, or living, beings, including, but not necessarily limited to, mere Mortals, with the results often proving fatal.
The discoverers of the Hexagonal Pattern of Light and Darkness based their theorems upon the notion that, if Good and Evil were to continue unchecked within the Mortals' Realm, a certain balance of power would need to be constantly maintained. And more, such maintenance would need to be accomplished in ways not necessarily understood in the annals of Humans. And so, the High Istari declared that no practicing Mage or Sorcerer would be allowed to cast any spell, good or bad, with the use of a sentient, or living, being. Failure to comply with this specific Magelaw would constitute a breach of the space/time continuum, for which the most severe penalty was usually death.
A further thing to learn in terms of the development of potential powers of Magecraft is for the would-be Sorcerer to remember that magic per se is primarilt based upon the knowledge of certain principles of the Laws of Nature, and the application of said principles. For example, a sentient being can, if given the proper tools, construct a computer system (though not necessarily one of the so-called 'multimedia' systems) from mere bits and pieces; further, one must recall that there exists no "impossibilty" regarding the use and application of Magic.
There are basically three principal ranks in the Discilpine of Thaumaturgy: Apprentice, Adept and Mage, with Mage being the ultimate level. In the rank of Apprentice, there are six levels; the lowest of these, Level One, or Level A, is reserved for first-time users of the Craft, while Level Six, the highest rank of Apprenticeship, marks the official 'coming-of-age' period for the potential Sorcerer, who, as a result, now has the ability to begin his or her studies as an Adept.
Of the 12 main Levels that comprise the Adept class of the Discipline, Level One is again the dominion of the beginners; those Adepts who reach Level 12 are the veterans: those individuals who, after approximately 14 years of tutoring under the aegis of the teaching Wizard, are but one step away from being proclaimed Mage. With the rank and title of Mage comes the right and privilege to classify oneself as a Wizard; however, usage of the word 'Mage' is often recommended, primarily as a symbolic gesture of respect.
Mages come, unexpectedly, from all wlaks of life. Moreover, they also come from all timeframes, all Centuries, all Legends. And their greatest and most important claim to fame lies in their basic ability to rise above the petty differences, arguments and jealousies of mere Mortals. To a Mage, the negative behaviours of Mortals are simply instruments in the eventual erosion of society as presently constituted. For these and other reasons, then, our Great and Exalted Father Merlin --- often known to his many fans within and beyond the galaxy as Merlin Ambrosius, or, more simply, Merlin the Magician --- sought in the late 33rd Century, Mortal-reckoning, to initiate an ellite Academy for the teaching and preservation of the Thaumaturgic Arts. The results of his efforts during that period are ranked among the great landmarks in Magecraft history; indeed, without the founding of what would later be known as the International Thaumaturgical Commission, the coven called the Grand High Istari would never have materialized in the Mortals' Realm.
The following comments by Merlin were transcribed by the Mortal called Thomas Malory from an interview with him which was conducted by the veteran London-based historiian and television journalist Robin Winters. These remarks represent perhaps the best description yet regarding the basic elements of the Discipline of Thaumaturgy, and what the Mortals must do in order achieve the abilty to control such elements:
"The Universe is composed of opposites, what some may call the masculine and feminine, or, as the Oriental scholars call them, the ying and the yang. When these two priniciples are complementary, the Universe may be said to be in complete Harmony. Yet when they are not complementary, then it merely amounts to little more than discord. One may tend to consider the human mind as a basic model of such principles. As you know, the mind is of two aspects. One is the logical, reasoning faculty --- that which one may call the masculine, or the Left Brain; the other is the intuitive faculty, i.e., the feminine, or Right Brain. Each has its purpose, and they're meant to be complementary, which, in fact, they are. However, in most people, the Left Brain is the more dominant --- that which reasons through logic and rationale --- whereas the Right Brain, that which is intuitive and receptive, is largely passive --- so much so, in fact, that one may consider it stunted in terms of its development.
"The present technological society has encouraged, in some cases instigated, the development of the mind's masculine, controlling, logical faculty; whereas the feminine, receptive, intuitive side has tragically fallwn into disuse. During my travels in the Mortals' Realm, I have heard the expression 'It's a man's world,' and there is a kind of truth to that, although not in the literal sense. People are crowded together in large cities, with dense populations, suurounded by the emanations of Mankind's technological achievements, cut off from the pastoral world. I myself find it disquieting to adjust to such surroundings, annd while I don't permit myself to be completely intiutively deafened by them, I simply spend my days paying greater attention.
"Most people these days seem to be very inattentive. Needless to say, that's because there's so much in this world to pay more attention to! It is always difficult to pay attention to absolutely everything, and remain in a constant state of alertness and receptivity. More often than not, Mortals choose what things they will and won't respond to. I, frankly, would advise such people that all we need to do in the end is to basically stop distracting ourselves and learn to become less preoccupied with our own concerns --- which is to say, we must relax ourselves into an attentive state, as opposed to driving ourselves purely with directed logic."
In these remarks, our Exalted Father Merlin concluded ultimately that only by seeing the Universe throgh a child's eyes, while simultaneously exercising the will of an adult, can one truly take the first step toward mastering the art of the Discipline of Thaumaturgy. Thousands upon thousands of Apprentices, Adepts and Mages, at various points in the histories of Earth and the other Planets, have followed Merlin's example endless times over. And they shall very likely do so again, even unto Eternity. Yet what I have shared with you here is no more than a small sample of the most basic rules for the proper practice of the Discipline of Thaumaturgy. These facts and statements are in no way representative of your humble Dragonmaster's own personal opinions. Rather, they were intended solely to inform, and hopefully enlighten. And if I have successfully achieved both goals, I shall be very grateful indeed.
Needless to say, the events of Tuesday, September the Eleventh, 2001, Mortal-reckoning, shook us all, I suppose, to our very foundations. When the World Trade Center Complex was utterly pulverizrd by two separate plane crashes, New Yorkers, and, for that matter, Americans of all beliefs, were at first horrified, and then frightened completely out of their wits when, in one single 30-minute period, both towers collapsed, changing, perhaps forever, a City, her skyline, and her people.
For your Dragonmaster, the fall of the World Trade Center marked the end of what we thought was innocence. Our former President, George W. Bush, decided to play hardball, and more, he chose to do so via the most expeditous means imaginable: WAR! And even now, I still ask myself: What shall be our future if Man's destiny is to wage war against the enemies of these United States? How many lives have we placed at risk, and ultimately lost, now that it has indeed come down to an all-out assualt against the forces of terror? Those of you who have read my Dossier will recall that I have long had a strong distaste for taking another Human life; yet, like Merlin before me, I have studied to capability to cause death with but a single look. It is not an aspect of my powers that is worth sharing with any of my friends; I've loved everyone far too much to cause that kind of harm. Still, almost a decade later, fearing war is a constant addition to my daily routine; I admit to have been hard-pressed to understand the consequences wrought by these tragic incidents.
In that knowledge, I found myself facing the prospect of becoming the first among Mages to experience these horrible happenings from the viewpoits of that breed known unto you Mundaners as Generation X. Many even now still ask: What will we do? How will we tackle the rest of the world? And will the evil Osama bin Laden hold true to his threat to kill all Americans with extreme prejudice? None of these questions have been easy, even after 8 years. By the sane token, no form of Magecraft can provide even the most jaundiced of Mortals with the proper answers. As I usually tell my fans, there are some Dragons that not even Blackwolf the Dragonmaster can defend, let alone slay.
Nonetheless, I must once more thank all our heroes --- our Policemen, Firefighters, Emergency Medical Technicians, and Executive Personnel. When I first wrote down these remarks, I told you that Rudy Giuliani might have flustered me during his years as New York City's Mayor, but in those first days immediately after 9/11 per se, I viewed him with unexpectedly new eyes --- eyes I never thought I'd bear. Our current Mayor, Michael R. Bloomberg, like Rudy before him, is determined that mine adopted metropolis shall rebuild: stronger, tougher, and BETTER than before --- and this ol' Dragonmaster would be first to cheer him on as he continues to rise before such challenges.
I want to close with this further word of thanks to all our civilized world leaders who choose to dedicate themselves to standing against the forces of evil. In making those thanks, I must also state that the road toward victory will not be easy. Sacrifices will need to be made along the way, and we will, in the end, simply have to accept them. The alternative --- that of giving in --- is not something I would wish to take on. My only hope, of course, is that Peace with Honor is fully achieved, regardless of the means, and regardless of who would live to secure that Peace. Those, after all, are the Dragons I myself would prefer too spend my life with most of all: the Dragons of Peace.
On April 25th, 2001, your humble Dragonmaster had the privilege of making me unprecedented debut as a commentator 'pon this wondrous device known to you Mortals as 'radio.' Through the good offices of the Teachers' and Writers' Collaborative of New York, Inc., Nancy Larson Shapiro, Executive Director; and producer/supervisor Irwin Gonshak, I made my remarks over WNYE-FM Radio here in New York, as part of the Collaborative's Anything Goes! series. The program, #590 in the series, originally aired on Tuesday afternoon, September 4th, 2001. One week later, of course, 9/11 changed everything forever. Despite this, I still realize that many of you may not have heard the original broadcast for yourselves (indeed, some of ye have personally e-mail'd me wishing that you had in fact been able to do so); for that purpose, therefore, and in case ye did indeed miss that broadcast, here now are my hopefully inspirational thoughts on the subject of.........
Why New York Needs Wizards
Greetings, Mortals! Now, if thou hast seen mine website of late, thou knowst by now that I, Blackwolf the Dragonmaster, Duke of Talisker --- Master Mage and Sorcerer in the Service of Her Majesty, Margaret, Queen of Scotland and the Isles --- ofen refer to myself as "New York City's first and only Unofficial Wizard." Almost from the very moment that I first materialzed hither within thy wonderful Shire, some 5 years ago, Mortal-reckoning, a good many of ye listening hither hath attempted to discover exactly why ye Byg Appyl, as ye so legendarily call this place, should have a Mage of its very own.
Well, ere I answer that question, permit me to recall a certain recent incident which involved myself and my Mortal-born alter ego, Master Richard Washington [who, not so incidentally, also happens to be, among other things, my business manager, my apprentice --- and my very best friend!].
'Twas late on a certain Monday, during the Winter Solstice just now ended, when, having spent a considerably long day exploring the wonders of the Aether --- or, as you Mortals more popularly call it, the Internet --- Master Richard prepared to make the journey back to his Upper Manhattan apartment (where also lies mine humble hovel). Regrettably, however, the lad did experience a slight degree of difficulty in terms of being permitted entry into New York's incredible subway system, of which I have heard so many wonderful stories! Forced to depend upon the kindness of total strangers, lest he make the said journey homeward on his own --- in the dark, mind ye, and in 20-degree temperatures, no less! --- Richard was indeed allowed the said entry, despite hearing in the background one or two rather rude complaints about 'holding up the line' and some such.
Upon finally reaching his beloved domicile, young Master Richard then settled down peacefully, and began reading his copy of that chronicle you Mortals call the New York Daily News, which he had been carrying about his person for much of the day. And that is how he came to notice the following letter, as printed in that portion of the said chronicle bearing the designation 'Voice of the People': "Isn't anyone happy anymore? Why has the 'Voice of the People' column become an obnoxious, cats-in-an-alley, nails-on-a-chalkboard, car-alarm-at-five-o'clock-in-the-morning (Where in thunder is that noise coming from?!) rant? Life is not all that bad, people. Sing a song, or something....."
Would that I could convince the author of that letter (whose comments, by the way, I very much approved of!) that indeed there might yet be a means whereby Happiness could be restored unto the City, County and State of New York! Alas, this being the year 2001, Mortal-reckoning, it has become increasingly apparent to this foolish old beetlehead of a Wizard that New Yorkers, as a rule, and regardless of whether or not they cast their lot in the name of Good or in the name of Evil, share a common, albeit somewhat curable, affliction:
The environment wherein the common New Yorker dwells has been permeateed over a 2000-year period by constant surfeits of cynicism, pessimism and just plain old everyday bad manners! Indeed, such incidents have plagued Mankind for far even more millenia than I myself would dare to count; frankly, I do not expect such traditions to change any time soon.
And yet, as I happen to be a charter member of that fraternity of do-gooders known as the Masters of Good Magic --- those would be the various Wizards, Witches, Warlocks, Mages and Sorcerers throughout the Greater Multiverse who have devoted their lives and powers to fighting eternally for the virtues of Justice, Honor, Wisdom, Compassion, Loyalty and Mercy --- I have a vested interest in seeing to it that this wonderful City of yours is indeed rescued from the abyss of eternal doubt; and so, in an attempt to achieve that purpose, I have asked the goodly gentles of the Teachers' and Writers' Collaborative to allow me this time upon this incredible device you call radio, that I might address my thoughts with regard to answering the question: "Why does New York need Wizards?"
One of Master Richard's most favorite sayings (it's certainly one of mine as well!) reads as follows: "I've lived long enough to have learned that, no matter how nice you are, there will always be times when the world will find a way to break your heart --- but only if you let it do so. Never llet it do so." I think --- and you must note that I am, after all, speaking strictly for myself at this point --- that New York should have someone who, among other things, can remind the populace of this kindly philospohy on a daily basis. Oh, 'tis true that such a person need not necessarily be of Mortal-bornn stock, but I would remind you goodly gentles that it was our ownn Exalted Brother, the wise, powerful and incredibly fabulous Merlin --- he who is sometimes called "the Father of all Mages" --- who regularly took no such baggage without so much as contemplating even the consequences of his every action.
Indeed, as King Arthur's staunchest, noblest ally, Merlin did his level best to symbolize the very conscience of Camelot. And that, I think, is what has separated us Wizards from you Mortals over the aeons: whereas we Wizards have long reminded ourselves each and every day of what our connsciences represent for us all, sadly, you Mortals have forgotten what your consciences represent. How else, then, do you explain that mindless garbage which you every so often dismiss with the epithet "reality television"?
In a world where anything --- even, to some extent, Magecraft itself! --- can be exploited for personal gain, 'tis enough to cause even this Mage to cringe in utter horror, especially when one considers the toll that such exploitations can often take upon our very spirits!
So, canst thou provide another reason, I can sense thee asking, as to why there should be Wizards walking the pavements of New York?
Well, I remember young Master Richard making the rather frustrating error (as he is often wont to do) of taking on far too many projects for his various business affairs --- a situation best blamed upon the overwhelming obsession of the typical everyday New Yorker to keep up with the world's ever-quickening pace. Now, none of us need be Merlin, much less possess his far-seeing powers --- or even his occasional knack for knowing practically everything about present-day trivia --- to sense that we have reached a crossroads whereby, more often than not, we fail to keep an eye upon that which is happening around us at all times.
Then again, of course, Merlin possessed those abilities in abundance!
Ironically, then --- and this may shock some of my fellow Magic-users --- I believe that there exists a source which has, in a similar vein, taken on Merlin's propensity for constant, non-stop knowledge. I refer in this instance to the all-local news cable network calling itself New York 1.
"New York 1? Now why in thunder would you dare suggest that New York 1 --- a harbinger of Mortals, of all places! --- should possess even the slightest hint of Merlin's magic?" I can sense thee asking. And, as usual, I am only too ready to offer thee mine answer.
Know ye, then, that what hath afforded New York 1 such knowledge is the fact that it hath taken its cue fron its 'big brother,' if thou wouldst (that, I believe, would be CNN). By presenting local, national and international news from the perspective of the average New Yorker, New York 1, in its nearly 20 years of existence, hath come much close to doing the one thing we Wizards have spent centuries trying to accomplaish, but could never really hope to do: put simply, New York 1 is the City's Sorcerer's Stone, as my distinguished colleagues at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry would refer to it, in that it transforms heat into light through its ongoing news coverage, and by so doing, thus transforms lead into gold!
Oh, you Mortals may laugh now, if you so choose, but I would ask thee to heed well the words of one of thy more popular eccentrics, one Dennis Miller by name: "These are merely mine own observations; if I have erred in making them, pray, accept mine humble apologies." English translation: "Of course, that's just my opinion. I could be wrong."
Another reason for the necessity of Wizardry hither in New York concerns another of these same aformention'd eccentrics for which thy mighty metropolis is quite legenndary. He was Henry J. Stern, and of old he was your Parks Commissioner. I would imagine that there must be a certain degree of stress that goes with upholding the duties of behing Seneschal of.... er, how dost thou call it again? Oh yes, the New York City Parks Department. To deviate from the apparent Sturm und Drang inherent with said stress, Sir Henry, taking the knightly name Starquest, reliev'd himself by dressing up in some of the most outlandish costumes that I have ever seen!
Why, each year, during our very own Fort Tryon Park Medieval Festival ---- which, by the way, it hath been mine pleasure to attend dressed in mine own full regalia for close to 9 years running (and I sense that I am yet nearing 10! Huzzah!) --- Milord Starquest didst style himself in the trappings of royal regalia. At the time, I thought that he had a long way to go as far as his 'King Henry' costume was concern'd; I based that opinion, I recall, 'pon the fact that the members of the now Fullerton, California-based Guild of St. Olaf's bother to take their costumes extremely seriously, often triple-checking if need be to ensure that every last fragment of their own, sometimes self-constructed, regalia is, in fact, historically accurate.
This, of course, is not to state that those who attend our Medieval Festival at Fort Tryon Park do not triple-check their costumes for historical accuracy; I once suggested to Sir Henry that he follow the example of the St. Olaf Players, and dress himself as King Henry in a more befitting, more historically accurate costume. Of old, the History Channel didst cover the Renaissance in abundance; even then, I've since learned that if one is to properly immerse oneself in the Renaissance, one must dress as though one were indeed an actual participant therein!
Having said thus, I hope that you who take part in, attend, and are otherwise involved in our Medieval Festival will provide a proper tribute to us Mages one of these days; given that we are the Shire's proverbial 'voices of reason and conscience,' I would wot that we be due for at least some form of recognition!
There is one final reason to make the case for our Wizardly presence in this wondrous Realm where 'the Bronx is up, the Battery's down and the people ride in a hole in the ground,' and sadly, that reason hsa its roots in one simple truth: one never truly appreciates a good thing in New York until it is gone. Case in point: the stranger from Marysville, Kansas who, for a short time, was the ultimate embodiment of the true New York eccentric: composer, singer, poet, inventor and occasional Viking warlord Louis Thomas Hardin, alias Moondog. In 1999, your Dragonmaster joined the world's avant-garde classical music community in mourning Moondog's passing, at age 83, in his adopted country of Germany.
He'd settled there, in the tiny villasge of Recklinghausen, in late 1974, after having spent some 20 years standing on the corner of 53rd Street and Avenue of the Americas in Midtown Manhattan, selling his own recordings, poetry and other works. Though he was offically classified as bieng legally blind, the heavily-bearded Moondog made his name by mingling unexpectedly with some of the greatest Mortals in ye Appyl's celebrated legerdemain, from Marlon Brando to Allen Ginsberg .... and even sitting in, during his early years spent hither in our City, with our own renown'd New York Philharmonic!
'Twas during his years at Recklinghausen that Moondog would encounter the woman with whom he would share the rest of his life --- Frau Ilona Goebel. Working as his business manager and translator, Ilona eventually coaxed her beloved Moondog into forsaking his trademark Viking costume, along with his trusty spear. From thence, he resumed his composing-performing career --- and never looked back.
Moondog's last known public appearance occurred in Stuttgart, in the late summer of 1994, when, as part of the annual Stuttgart International Jazz Festival, he presented a half-hour recital of several of his finest compositions. Since then, Moondog's story has inspired an unusual biography, The Viking of Sixth Avenue, which, I am happy to say, I myself had the honor of reading; it does my heart good knowing now that Moondog's full saga can at last be revealed in greater and more extended depth.
Well, Mortals, there you have it: New York 1, former Parks Commissioner Henry J. Stern, and the late composer Louis (Moondog) Hardin --- three examples of why I believe New York is in desperate need of Wizardry. You see, these three entities have, in their respective ways, represented the unique qualities of wonder that Imagination and Magic can sometimes accomplish when both are realized to their fullest potential. This is especially true when a child --- or, come to that, a young adult --- decides that perhaps it's worth it if he or she takes matters into his or her own hands, and follows his or her own special star. Granted, there may yet be other reasons as to why Magecraft be needed hither within this unusual Metropolis; but in the end, if one were to learn, as that Daily News 'Voicer' had hoped, to sing a song; or take in the peace and comfort of our City's forests; or simply revel in the company of friends .... then maybe, just maybe, New York --- not to mention the world ---could indeed be free of the cynicism, pessimism, and plain old everyday bad manners which have plagued it so constantly for lo, these many aeons.
Still, I believe that --- and here, I speak as a New Yorker, as an Earthling, and as a Wizard --- there are those who will likely wonder if indeed one Mage can rescue one City from all its cynics, its pessimists, and its naughty people. Well, in a larger sense, that is why I am here: to make certain that Mortals never abandonn their Imaginations, as another of my distinguished colleagues, the brilliant children's book author/artist Tony Di Terlizzi, reminds us in his library of children's books (I've personally lookked through them all, and find them very imaginative indeed!); to inspre those with forward-thinking hearts to believe in something far greater than themselves --- and, in accordance with mine own nom de plume (Heh-heh!) to remind at least one or two of ye out thither --- who are into noble Quests, Renaissance Faires and Festivals, and the like --- to always support (and believe in) the Good Dragons of the Multiverse.
Ah yes, over 4800 years old I may be, but I'm a wise enough Wizard to understand and speculate upon the destiny of those with whom I share this Planet. The problem is simply that there ought to be someone who, at least unofficially, should stand up and tell my fellow Earthlings what to go and do with themselves. And since there's no one around to assume that mantle and take up the challenge, ol' Blackwolf figured ..... wel, as you Mortals so bluntly put it, if ye want something done, go do it thyself!
That said, know this, Mortals: thou and I art stuck with one another; and accordingly, as your Unofficial Wizard, I shall do my level best to keep thee each and all 'pon ye olde straight and narrow. This, of course, is where I believe every Mortal bleongs. And anyway, someone must defend Mortalkind against the Forces of Evil in a straightforward, responsible, and meaningful manner.
And that, hopefully, is where I come in. Oh, I'm sure that I've made at least one tiny bit of reference in the history books thus far (well, at the very least, those history books that truly matter, anyway! Heh-heh!), but I will say, as I've often said before, that if I can contribute in some small, albeit unsung fashion, towards increasing Earth's continued prosperity, then, truth be told, I'm a happy Wizard. Even if, at times, I end up getting the funniest looks from all my fellow Mortals .... well, one must expect, and ultimately put up with, such things. Besides, hast thou truly seen a Mage of mine abilities and capabilities before? I think not! Hopefully, in the end, I trust that you will find me to become a very quick and most eager student.
Oh yes, we have much to teach eachother, you and I. I'm sure that none of ye have ever been known to keep a Dragon in thy bathtub wherever ye be out thither; but please be aware that indeed there are Good Dragons in our Multiverse in general, and in mine adopted Realm of New York City in particular. And even though ye may not be able to see them (unless, of course, you are deep in the Realm of Dreams!), chances are, they might be watching you! And listening, too!
But you know, methinks that I have talked enough for now, for not even a Wizard can be made to ramble on for all time. So, ere I take me leave of thee, let me invite ye to explore mine own humble homepage 'pon ye Aether. Thou shalt access my Dark Chambers at http://www.dragonmasternewyork.webs.com --- or, better still, ye may wish to e-mail me at either electric_pirates@hotmail.com or bllackbeardian@yahoo.com.
And now, if you'll all kindly excuse me, I must away to mine humble hovel, alias my apartment, that I might yet partake of a well-earn'd nap. (We Wizards need our sleep,, too, you know! [Yawn!]) And so, for the Teachers' and Writers' Collaborative, this is Blackwolf the Dragonmaster, Duke of Talisker, New York City's first and only Unofficial Wizard, speaking on behalf of my faithful engineer Sir Thomas of Ronan, and bidding thee safe journeys, each and all!
