| Where the Hell Was I When THIS Was Going On? |
[Dec. 4th, 2009|09:01 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  confused | ] |
Now, my loyal tens of readers, you may remember back in May when I posted a video on YouTube featuring my knife tricks:
I figured it would get a few hurrah's and some ooh's and aah's, and that would be the end of it. But NOOOOOOOO... I google my stage name from time to time, to see where I'm at in regard to Intarweb fame... And at the time I write this entry, I get this if I put my name in quotes for the most accurate results:
Now, I'm wondering: Where the hell was I when this was happening? I mean, the video is cool and all, but is it really THAT cool?
Before you look at me funny and say, "DUH, Frederick..." understand where I'm coming from:
I have been doing this stuff with blades longer than I have been doing stuff with fire. I began playing with blades back when I was about 15, sort of killing time and tempting fate. I got better in spurts, with long periods of stagnation in between. I didn't just step into this, nor did I work hard and long at it. I would lose interest and put the blades away for months, sometimes years at a time, then eventually pick them back up. Some of these times I would learn new tricks to add to my repertoire, most times I would not. I never really considered it all that big a deal.
BUT-- I uploaded it to YouTube, StupidVideos and LiveLeak... And within HOURS, I had a guy from CMT's "Country Fried Home Videos" asking me if I would be willing to send it in to their show. And within DAYS, there were tens of thousands of views of this video. It had been shared from website to website, and traveled around the virtual world known as the internet. I had gone VIRAL. There are video sites hosted in Spain, Poland, the Ukraine, and so on featuring this video. I did not anticipate this. I have people from time to time coming up to me asking me if I am the guy they saw on the TV show, or the guy from the Internet. It's been about one or two a month, but it's weirder actually than being approached by someone who's seen me perform on stage with Fire and Steel. At least with them I have a chance to possibly know who they are in kind.
Point of Trivia: I am a walking contradiction. A living, breathing OXYMORON. You see, I have always wanted to entertain the masses. BUT-- I have NEVER wanted to be famous. I know, wanting my cake and eating it too... But there you have it. The persona known as Frederick the Reckless is just a bit more than a role I play at events. He is also a form of defense mechanism. You see, if HE absorbs all the attention, I can go back to being absolutely no one in particular on Monday morning, when I go back to being a stranger on the bus, a sheet metal finisher at an aerospace fab shop, and the father of a beautiful daughter and husband of a lovely wife. I never wanted fame. I never wanted it, but it happened. And I have no idea how or why, I just know that I have to put up with it, because I'll be damned if I want to deal with it.
In the words of John Lennon: "Life is what happens to you while you're making other plans." |
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| On Seadog Nights, and Not Having Time for This (LONG ENTRY) |
[Jul. 28th, 2009|07:09 am] |
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| |  exhausted | ] |
So, I just got back from Seadog Nights, my last event of the year given current budget circumstances… But to fully tell the tale, I must go back to just Thursday of the prior week. You see, I have a dangerous hobby. It takes its toll on my joints, and seven years ago it cost me my anterior cruciate ligament (ACL), meniscus, and bursa in my left knee. I get along fine most days, and for the last five years have performed without so much as a brace without a problem other than the occasional ache. BUT… Thursday, one week before Seadog Nights, I was coming down the stairs that lead to the entryway of my apartment building… I get to the third step from the bottom and-- POP-CRUNCH-GRIND… And I fell. I re-injured my knee. SONOFABITCH. Well, I didn’t have time for this, now did I? I had a wedding to attend for a good friend of ours, and I was to walk her down the aisle. I had an event coming up. I had an errand to run. I HAD SHIT TO DO, DAMMIT!!! Suffice to say, I found myself back in a knee brace, frequently relying on a cane to get around for extended periods. So upon arrival at Seadog, I of course got no end of the obvious question from those I had not previously informed of my condition: “What did you do to yourself?” I gave the explanation so many times I think I had it on auto-reply. When asked if I would still perform, I asked in return, “Is pig pussy pork?” And added, “I’ll still perform, though I might have to settle for being less of a madman than usual.” We got set up in the heat, and I very quickly chose to ditch my sweat-lodge mundane clothing for my kilt (unless you own one, you have no idea how welcome the breeze that blows along beneath it can be!) and headed out for a bit of recon. I had to find the rest of the troupe, find out where our stage area was going to be, locate the household where I would be doing my fireplay demo, etc, etc, etc… I had thought about holding a raffle, as I had a nice stag-handled bowie knife and a set of ceramic mugs designed to be easy to decorate with permanent markers (something in the glaze made the colors stay permanently, I think), but I thought better of it when I realized just how much walking I would be doing. On my knee, not such a good idea. Well, as it turns out it was still a good thing I had packed my roll of tickets. Shamus, troupe leader ot the Fiery Dragons (a recently formed troupe of fire performers, who got into firedancing after being inspired by Fire and Steel) was having no luck selling his twin Kukhri knives. I lent him my roll of tickets and gave him pointers on selling as many tickets as possible. He turned a pretty enough penny, I’m told, to get himself a leather vest, leather mask, and set aside some cash to help supply his troupe. Showtime that night was nothing short of magical. Fire and Steel, Ignition, and the Fiery Dragons all blended our respective shows into one HUGE jam session, or as I like to say, “A Fire Performance Open Mic Night.” It was very relaxed, as opposed to the way we usually do Seadog: One troupe following another. Boulron about went nuts from the stress of running that huge a stage queue, and I can’t blame him-- I’ve been there. I used to run the stage queue before he took it over, and I remember what it’s like to juggle thirty people backstage. But everyone performing that night put in a good showing for themselves including Godiva, who has recently begun training in fire. Though my knee was absolutely killing me, I still managed to perform just fine and leave the stage with only a slight limp from time to time. After the show, Godiva and I went out drinking and roving from camp to camp. We ended up spending much of our time at Ignition’s encampment, exchanging anecdotes and alcohol. Once again, I’ll say it: You would be doing yourself a disservice not taking the time to get to know them. The next day was spent by me roaming about in the heat, sitting and chatting with old friends, and making some new ones. I basically window-shopped a lot, shot the shit with folks, and then… I have noticed an influx of something new that doesn’t belong at these events, sanctioned or non-. It seems some folks have decided that STEAMPUNK would be okay to add to our brand of SCA play. All I can think is, “MUST WE FUCKING DO THIS?!?!? REALLY?!?!?” This shit is about as period as a Heckler and Koch MP5. The difference between the two is that I would actually want the latter if only to use it to shoot the former in the fucking kneecaps. I mean, what makes you fucking think this is okay? There are events where this is welcome, and in fact encouraged… THIS IS NOT ONE OF THEM, at least not to me. I don’t bring my pirate garb and flintlocks to your venue, don’t bring your future-retro bullshit LARP to mine.
Showtime Saturday evening was like it was last year, more structured, with one troupe following another. This made it possible for each troupe to field more of their repertoire, which is awesome, though I did prefer the more relaxed feel of Friday’s show. On the upshot, Godiva tried fireswords for the first time, and did a DAMNED good job! Saturday’s show also brought the fire performance debut of Bevin, Boulron’s apprentice. What can I say, she rocked the torches! Ffyn the Fool also got to ham it up again, modeling a silkscreened Seadog Nights commemorative shirt. He wore it for the merchant’s pitch, performed a palmtorch set wearing it, and took the shirt off comedy-burlesque style and threw it into the audience. The crowd loved it! After the show, Godiva and I went back to the tent briefly so she could change and I could take some of the load off my knee before heading out to the Sanctuary of Pan. They were holding a masquerade ball there that night, with one corner of the area serving as “Sexual Deviant Central.” There was a tent for Suspension bondage, one for play piercing, one with a St. Andrews Cross set up for flogging, and I was to perform my fireplay demo in the middle. PROBLEM: The hard clay that passes for soil at the site did not want to let me plant my standard, a stainless steel flame on a pole with a holder for two tiki torches attached. Well, if at first you don’t succeed, stab it into the ground HARDER, right? Well it worked-- with an unpleasant and completely unforeseen side effect. You see, when I planted it, the screws in the back of the tiki torch holders gouged out about twelve inches of wood as they dropped, driving the point of one of the tiki torch holders into my forearm deep enough to require stitches. My reaction: “Oh… That SUCKS!!!” My first thought thereafter: “I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THIS!!!” I went inside a tent, and Puppy had a good look at it, wrapped it in gauze and a pressure dressing, and turned me loose. (Realize this: She knows me and how stubborn I can be. She decided on this course of action because I related to her that I felt it was enough. I will NOT hear any bullshit about my troupe’s SAFETY MANAGER giving substandard care.) I went outside and finished setting up for fireplay and began. By the time I saw my tent in the morning, the sun was peeking up over the hills. My only regret about that night is that I was so busy I didn’t get to see much of what else was going on. After waking up, Godiva and I did the usual packing and saying of goodbyes and headed home. I enjoyed the event, and immensely so, but I was glad to be headed home. The Baby withdrawals from not having Lizard along, and the Lorelai withdrawals (Neither she nor the baby attended as Lorelai hates the site with the fury of a thousand suns and we both agreed it would be too hot for Lizard) were also beginning to seriously wear on me. My next event will probably be DMDT of next year, as we are hoping to be able to organize a reunion for Lorelai’s family Memorial Day Weekend. |
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| ...And NOTHING OF VALUE Was Lost. |
[Jun. 27th, 2009|08:10 am] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  irritated | ] |
Unless you have been living in total seclusion with no access to the media via radio, TV, internet, newspapers, or gossip from the little old lady who lives in the dumpster behind the local Seven Eleven, you have probably heard that Michael Jackson, the self-proclaimed "King of Pop," is dead. It's all you're going to hear about in tabloids and newspapers for quite awhile. He's like OJ, Jonbenet Ramsey, and the Gosselin Family(tm) all rolled into one so far as hype and gossip goes.
Yes, the man who was born a black boy and rose to stardom on the backs of his brothers to become the richest white woman in history died of a heart attack. He made several contributions to music during his carreer, to include such hist as "Beat It," "The Way You Make Me Feel," and the record-setting "Thriller." He also helped bring special effects like "Morphing" into the spotlight with his music video, "Black or White."
His most noted accomplishment as far as I am concerned is his lesson to us about the legal system. He taught us that if you have enough money, you can do whatever you want. In 1993, he was charged with Child Molestation, and escaped conviction when he SETTLED OUT OF COURT with his accuser to the tune of 22 million dollars. en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1993_child_sexual_abuse_accusations_against_Michael_Jackson
Shortly thereafter, congress passed a law preventing just this sort of thing, and it was unofficially dubbed "The Michael Jackson Law." In 2005, he was charged again.http://www.newsday.com/entertainment/music/wire/sns-ap-michael-jackson-law,0,3038159.story Somehow, he managed to get acquitted, even after ADMITTING he held sleepovers and in fact, EVEN SHARED HIS BED with children at his Neverland Ranch. Watch this clip, and pay SPECIAL ATTENTION to the part around 1:20:
Now, call me nutty, but I'm pretty sure that if some other NON-RICH slimeball admitted as much, his kids would be taken from him and his ass would hit the back wall of a jail cell so fast he'd leave flaming skidmarks with his bootheels. Not only that, but he consistently avoided contempt charges, even though he showed up routinely late and dressed in a manner that would have gotten you or I thrown in a cell for a bit and fined. http://www.examiner.com/x-5919-Norfolk-Crime-Examiner~y2009m6d26-Michael-Jacksons-courtroom-saga-was-another-example-of-celebrity-justice
I see articles everywhere that mourn his passing, and all I can ask is WHY? Why Should we mourn this piece of shit? Why should we mourn a man who committed acts inspiring such rage in my eyes and the eyes of any sane parent that should the two of us have met, he'd have become a Jacko-shaped stain on the pavement covered in size 10 1/2 wide altama infantry combat boot prints? He's dead, and NOTHING OF VALUE WAS LOST. This should be CELEBRATED, not mourned. Anything about the fucker that was worth anything is readily available on CD or downloadable from iTunes as an MP3. If I could attend his memorial, I'd gladly get arrested for dancing at his graveside and shitting on the lid of his coffin. And just you TRY and tell me you WOULDN'T. Or at least try to tell me you wouldn't APPLAUD.
Can we please stop mourning Michael Jackson, oh basement-dwelling naive hangers-on? Michael Jackson was a PEDOPHILE. You see, regardless of how much money you make, regardless of how many people you inspire with your music, regardless of how many top hits you get, IT IS STILL WRONG TO SNUGGLE UP TO THE BALLS OF A TWELVE YEAR-OLD BOY WITH CANCER.And if you think an ACQUITTAL means he was innocent, you are far more naive than advertised. He wasn't innocent, he was just rich. |
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| On The Hypocrisy Known as PETA (LONG RANT) |
[Jun. 10th, 2009|02:55 pm] |
By now, you may have heard about or read this article: www.komonews.com/news/local/47410357.html To paraphrase the article, the group known as People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA) is protesting the famous Fish Tossers of Pike Place Market in Seattle, Washington. They say it's inappropriate to toss around dead animals. I find the whole thing laughable, and so should you. If you have NEVER heard of PETA, first consider yourself lucky, and second accept my condolences for being the one to introduce you to these hypocritical radicals. They're the ones that tell you it's wrong to wear fur. They're the ones that tell you it's wrong to eat meat. They're the ones that tell you that animal testing is cruel and wrong.
So let's get to the debunking of their bullshit, shall we?
Fur
A long time ago in a place called Pangea, man was a hunter-gatherer. A right cunning little bugger, he had one fatal flaw when it came to survival: Precious little hair for insulation from the cold. Well, all the other animals around had fur, at least the WARM ones. It only stood to reason that fur was the way to go. I mean, hey, all the cool animals were wearing it. I mean, seriously, doesn't a leopard look cool in leopard print? All spotty and awesome? And WARM? Early man came to the same conclusion, and without that decision very early on, man would likely not have survived. Fucking prove me wrong, PETA. I fucking DARE YOU.
Meat
Man is a downright resourceful and adaptable critter, isn't he? He has several tools that make him top dog around these parts as a land-dwelling creature. Thumbs were just a small part of it. You see, if you BRUSH YOUR TEETH you'll notice a couple things.
First, that thing in front of you that keeps moving and copying you? That's called a mirror. And you see it has depth and stuff, so you can tell when things are closer or further from it-- HEY!!! You can tell when things are closer or further from YOU, TOO!!! Isn't that awesome? That's called DEPTH PERCEPTION, and you owe it to the fact that your eyes are in the FRONT of your head. Why, you ask? Well here comes the science: Your eyes are in front of your head to provide you with depth perception, and virtually ALL carnivores and most omnivores have this feature. It allows you to gauge the distance, speed and movement of that fat, juicy, MEATY animal you're going to chase, catch if you can, kill and EAT. Herbivores do not have this trait. Their eyes are on the SIDES of their heads. Why, you might ask? Two reasons, really. First, you DON'T need depth perception to eat food that NEVER MOVES. Second, you DO need increased peripheral vision to spot predators who are trying to approach from the rear. Do you know what zoologists call an herbivore with its eyes in front of its head? EXTINCT.
The second thing you'll notice when looking into that mirror is that your mouth has a variety of teeth, designed for different purposes. You have cutting teeth, for firm vegetation. You have grinding teeth, for crushing firm vegetation and general mastication (that's chewing, for you non-readers). You have RENDING TEETH for tearing flesh (them's the ones with the pointy bits). And lastly, you notice how your molars aren't all the same flat crushing type? Yup, the forward ones are for meat, too. That's why they have points and grinding surfaces. They're your very own meat tenderizer.
Next, let's look at your immune system. You need certain amino acids to live a healthy life. Many of them you can derive from plant resources, but Taurine and Carnitine are not found in vegetation in any sort of significant amount. Deficiency in Taurine has been linked to anxiety, depression, hypertension, hypothyroidism, gout, infertility, obesity, kidney failure and autism, among other conditions. Source: www.bodyecology.com/06/11/16/deficient_in_taurine.php
Carnitine deficiency can cause a heterogeneous group of disorders. Muscle metabolism is impaired, causing myopathy, hypoglycemia, or cardiomyopathy. Infants typically present with hypoglycemic, hypoketotic encephalopathy. Source: www.merck.com/mmpe/sec01/ch002/ch002c.html
To top it all off, the only reasons that veganism can work in this day and age are hydroponics and worldwide shipping. Or do you think you'll just go to the local supermarket and but your kelp in the middle of Montana and get it from a locally grown source? Bitch, please. And all that shipping? Yeah, it wouldn't exist had man not needed better killing impliments. You know, ones made of METAL, to better kill meaty animals with? How much use do you think man would have had for metal had he not first looked at it for its hunting potential? Og: "Pretty rock." *TOSS*
Animal Testing
Animals die inthe pursuit of medicine. Fact of life. The Hippocratic oath begins, "First, do no harm." This is true, but when it was written it applied only to man. And in the pursuit of helping man to live a longer and healthier life, rats, monkeys, cats, dogs, and pigs to name a few, had to die. If you are alive in this day and age, and you've never run the risk of death by Polio, Influenza, Strep, Chicken Pox, Smallpox, Cowpox, or any of the myriad little nasties designed to be genetically predisposed to help you shuffle off this mortal coil, YOU OWE YOUR FUCKING LIFE TO A RAT. So, two words to you greenie tree-hugger animal rights activists: Bitch, please.
Further, PETA's hypocrisy is heretofore unmatched by just about any humane society out there: THEY KILL MORE ANIMALS THAN ANY HUMANE SOCIETY IN THE WORLD. Don't believe me, read it for yourself: www.thenokillnation.com/
One would think that a group called People for the ETHICAL treatment of animals would oppose Euthanasia... Tsk, tsk... Shame on you for thinking.
It doesn't stop there... PETA funds terrorist organizations, like the Earth Liberation Front (ELF). www.consumerfreedom.com/news_detail.cfm/headline/2339
Not to mention the Animal Liberation Front (ALF): www.associatedcontent.com/article/282260/peta_when_animal_rights_becomes_terrorism.html
Along with a right motley bunch of other domestic terrorists: icevikings.blogspot.com/2005/12/petas-ties-to-terrorism.html
But to top this little Bitchslap-You-In-The-Face-With-Your-Own-Hypocrisy Sundae off with a proper cherry, check out this little bit: lists.envirolink.org/pipermail/ar-news/Week-of-Mon-20031222/014119.html
I guess PETA thinks sticking your dick in your DOG's ass is more ethical than tossing around a dead fish.
If anyone needs me, I'll be at my dinner table, wearing a mink condom while testing a new swine flu vaccine on a gerbil and eating koala on a stick. Later, I think I'll learn to juggle fish.
And finally, in closing, I'll let Penn and Teller put this whole thing into a more humorous perspective:
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| On the 10th and Final Gathering, New Toys, and the IOU's One Writes to Their Body |
[May. 27th, 2009|01:03 pm] |
I arrived home from the tenth and final Gathering this most recent Monday, and here it is, Wednesday, and finally I have the strength to post an entry in my blog about it. It was a fun, if extremely exhausting event. Stick around and get the highlights from this old man's point of view.
We arrived and set up our tents and kitchen, along with the rest of our campmates, in the usual fashion. Our tent is a monstrous dome tent that requires multiple people and an ungodly amount of stakes to put up, but once it's up it's awesomeness you can sleep in. I set out roving, selling raffle tickets to get spending cash for my next event, Dragon's Mist Defender's Tourney, coming up in June. I did well in that respect, getting about one hundred forty dollars in all. This was the prize:
 
What you are looking at is a set of wrist restraints and a collar for bondage, done in black-on-black Latigo and uphostery leather. They are edged with sewn upholstery leather, lined for comfort, with the ring straps rivetted through to the inside of the Latigo. The winner of the raffle was an Irish lass (genuine, grew up in central Ireland) attending her first event ever. Talk about a memento!
During the day, Lorelai, Godiva and I took turns with the baby. I spent most of my time with her either carrying her around or pulling her in our yard cart. It's like a little red wagon, all grown up. Throw in a body pillow for a cushion and Lizard was riding in style. She won hearts and minds everywhere she went, and no one mentioned, at least not to my face, that they had any objection to her harness and leash. I tell you, that thing is a godsend. It allowed me to let her run, but limit her access to things that may prove harmful to her. If anyone tells you you're out of line for using one, tell them from good ol' Frederick the Reckless: "Nice to see you're concerned about something that's none of your fucking business." Lizard had the time of her life, except for nap and bedtime. She gets so excited, and when it comes time for sleep, she doesn't want to for fear she'll miss something. I got her a decal from one of the booths on Merchant's row that represents this perfectly. It's a baby dragon, clutching a teddy bear. And she's sad, with a tear on her cheek. It really is what Lizard's like at naptime.
Performance time brought its own energy, as usual, but this year there was a big change for the better. We try to bring out something new each year, no matter how small. One of Fire and Steel's key strengths is that we are constantly adding new things to the show, introducing new props to the kingdom. Some of them are introduced from things we've seen that haven't hit the Kingdom yet, some are invented by us. This year was in a way no different, but in another way unlike any year previous. We introduced flaming headgear to add to our costuming, to give more spice to old themes. Here is the only example I have pictures of at this time:
  
What you are looking at is my latest leather mask, complete with-- Yes, you are seeing right-- FLAMING HORNS. There is also a flaming MOHAWK, worn by Joseph the Green, a helm with a FLAMING CREST and FLAMING CROWN in the hands of our very own Fire Warrior King, Lestat the Bloodboiler. I do not currently have photos of these, but as soon as I can get them, I'll put them up. Credit for the performance pictures shown above goes to Lemuel Canady jr.
Not only did we introduce the flaming headpieces, but we also brought out our new BOOT TORCHES, which you can see in the first of the above performance photos, along with my new FLAMING GOBLET. It's a goblet I retrofitted to not only hold flame, but to hold fuel for firebreathing. I can light it, tip it back to take the fuel and breathe fire across the top of the goblet to complete the act. It was a serious hit with the crowd.
Other notable happenings this weekend from our fireshow included the boy no one knew about coming into his own. Ffyn is a man who's performed with us off and on for the last two years, but no one really acknowledged his performances. This is not due to any lack of skill, but a lack of anything to set himself apart from the rest of Fire and Steel. This year, he not only came out of his shell, but he SPREAD HIS WINGS AND TOOK FLIGHT. And a glorious flight it was to behold! He came to me earlier this year with the idea of playing a Jester for the troupe, and I liked the idea. I liked it so much in fact that I made him palm and boot torches as well as wristbands, all covered in bells. Once he put them on, he became giddy as all get out. It was like watching a "Kid in a Candy Store" Scenario, coupled with Christmas on a birthday and finding a winning lottery ticket in your shoe. And to top it all off, he really took the Jester role to heart. He made the crowd laugh, all the while making all the ladies swoon, looking sexy the whole time. Hell, see for yourself! I give you Ffyn the Fool! Again, credit goes to Lemuel Canady jr. for the photos:
 
Another who got the crowd's notice was Lauren, a new apprentice of ours. This girl has been using batons and staves, as well as doing colorguard and honor guard ever since she was 5 years old. She immediately set about winning the hearts and minds of most of the men in the crowd (as well as some of the women)... I had people asking me about her all weekend! Photo credit goes to MySpace user BluIdVxn.
 
As to the adult show I do at non-sanctioned events, it went well, if a bit hectic. Most notable of the happenings of these shows was that I got to put right my last mistake in fireplay. I have had, in the last seven years of performing fireplay, an estimated three thousand volunteers feel my flames on their skin. Only three of them have culminated in a burn. Of those three, up until this weekend, two had come back to try it again, without incident. The third, SIlky, finally got her chance to let me put my only remaining error right. She came up for her fire flogging, and later took my firewhip to her back. She came through it safely this time, and she and I felt much better for the experience. This is the last event I will be doing them every night of the event. I wear myself out, I wear my equipment out, and I wear my wife and our girlfriend's patience thin when I do that. I need a night to myself at each event where I can actually go roving with my wife, our girlfriend, and sit back and relax around a firepit and just chill. I haven't been giving myself that option for the last 3 years, and I think that might just be why I've been so short with folks lately. I have gone off on more people in this one event than I have in the last ten years of eventing total. So, time to start taking some me-time.
One who deserved it though, was a lass who decided it was time to be forward about her interest in me, and figured it would be a good idea to dance and sway her way up to me and stand shoulder-to-shoulder with my safety technician for the adult show WHILE I WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF GIVING A FIRE FLOGGING TO SOMEONE ELSE!!! Suffice to say, when it registered that she was that perilously close, my left hand shot out, pointing right at her face. I opened up in all the fury I could summon, and shouted, "MOVE!!! FOR YOUR OWN SAFETY, DO NOT GET THAT CLOSE TO ME AGAIN!!!" She stiffened, shuddered, and glared at me before turning on her heel and walking away. For the life of me, I can't figure out WHAT made sense to her about her actions, and exactly how she thought I was the one out of line when it was she who foolishly risked a face full of flames. Just can't make some folks see the light, I guess.
Packing out was a two-day process. Literally. Lorelai had been drafted to work on Monday, so she had to head back a day early. So we packed up Godiva's non-essential items and moved her into our tent. We said our goodbyes, and Lorelai headed out. Having our girlfriend there was at least nice, but it did not make up for Lorelai having to leave. It just wasn't fair. Godiva and I both missed her dearly, starting even before she left. Neither of us wanted to see her get into that car and go.
Exhaustion having begun to get the better of me, I started writing myself IOU's toward rest. I still had too much to do. There was still the show that night, plus the adult show, then MAYBE some drinking and carousing, and finally a short bit of rest, before it would be time to pack out the rest of our gear. I write a LOT of IOU's at events. I get little rest, and even less time to myself. I eventually get VERY short-tempered with folks even though they mean no harm, because it's no sooner I thank them for their compliment that I turn around to hear the next. Or I turn around to answer the same question I have been asked every five minutes for the last 72 hours. It's usually about this time that I look forward to going back to being absolutely no one of any significance whatsoever. I start to look forward to home. That's when I pay back the IOU's, that's when the house cashes in. I got home, unloaded one car, and collapsed. I'll get the other one as I can. I'm sore in spots I didn't know I coule get sore, and swollen in spots I didn't know could swell. I'll break even on the IOU's of course, but my muscles and my voice will take a few more days. |
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| On the NRA, Murder-Suicides, and Gross Negligence |
[Apr. 16th, 2009|07:53 am] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | annoyed | ] |
By now, you've heard the news that a woman went out to a gun range and, while there, murdered her son and then killed herself. This of course prompts the ANTI-NRA folks to scream, "O NOES!! GUNZ IZ BAD!! GUNZ HAZ TO GO!!!11ONEONE!!" And basically, it's time for another good ol' fashioned, brutally profound kick in the ass from good ol' MasterFrederick. See, there's more to the story: http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,512959,00.html
And more video: http://www.liveleak.com/view?i=a9b_1239071171 It IS a bit graphic, so you have been warned.
So now that you've checked out the rest of the facts, here comes the shakedown: News like this is only news because it happens so rarely. "Dog Bites Man" is not news. It happens all the time. "Man Bites Dog" IS news, because it happens so rarely. Got it? So hearing about a murder-suicide at a gun range does not by any fucking means translate across to mean that shooting ranges are dangerous places, because someone will kill you if you go. The REAL reason this made the news is that, even after banning this woman for attempting suicide at the range, not only did they let her back in, but RENTED the gun to her. It made news because of gross negligence. ANTI-gun fanatics do not want you to have guns. They think they're dangerous, and scream "GUNS KILL PEOPLE!" Every time a firearm-related incident makes the news. They cite isolated incidents and use them as reasons to attack the vastly greater majority of responsible gun owners. They miss the key point in the reason it happened in the first place.
The big point here is that guns are inanimate objects, and the deaths they cause are either a result of irresponsibility or necessity. The deaths of these two were a result of irresponsibility on the behalf of the range, no doubt. But the myth that guns are dangerous in and of themselves can be debunked with a simple experiment:
1: Acquire a firearm.
2: Ensure that the safety is engaged.
3: LOAD IT.
4: Set it on a table.
5: Wait and observe.
I am sure you will notice that it only does one thing: IT SITS THERE. And, amazingly enough, DOESN'T KILL PEOPLE. It's the person who picks it up and disengages the safety (and either by way of intentionally aiming and actuating the trigger or by negligently allowing their finger or other object to actuate it when someone else happens to be aligned with the barrel) who kills people. Ignorance and fearmongering like the myth that guns are dangerous in and of themselves is the only reason a police officer in Texas wrote the following entry in his Blog: Here, enlighten yourself. It cites a different incident, but the theme is relevant to my statement.
It is true that people kill other people with guns every year. But I'd bet you have an even more potentially likely murder weapon in your home: KNIVES. Your kitchen has several, to say nothing of the occasional pocket or utility knife. And guess what: They're the NUMBER ONE choice for a "weapon of opportunity" when someone breaks into a home and decides to kill the occupants. That said, do you think knives are dangerous and should be outlawed? Or do you think that responsible people should teach others to be responsible when using them?
I have no guns. I don't have a use for them, I don't hunt. I DO however own a crossbow and SEVERAL Swords, knives, battle axes and other medieval and martial arts weapons. And like any responsible gun owner, I teach my children to be responsible around them and with them. I limit access to them, and I only allow access to them with my supervision. Which is as it should be.
I am not against gun ownership for self-defense or hunting as far as others are concerned, but I AM against irresponsible use of them or ANY other weapon, for that matter. That the very range that BANNED the mother from their premises not only allowed her back in but RENTED HER THE MURDER WEAPON constitutes irresponsible use.
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| On the distinction between a Vagina and a Clown Car |
[Apr. 1st, 2009|08:11 am] |
Recently, there has been a surge in reality TV shows about ridiculously large families, such as Jon and Kate Plus 8: tlc.discovery.com/tv/jon-and-kate/jon-and-kate.html, Table for 12: tlc.discovery.com/tv/table-for-12/table-for-12.html, and 18 Kids and counting: tlc.discovery.com/tv/18-kids-and-counting/duggar-family.html. Further, you have Octomom: www.radaronline.com/exclusives/2009/02/octomom-erupts-video-showdown-with-her-mom-over-babies.php. These families are massive, to the point of there being no fucking way to raise the children without some level of serious neglect. Three of these families have reality shows, where you see all the pretty, happy, candyfloss bullshit without any of the real stress of raising children... And the Duggar family is STILL SPAWNING. To these families and all others like them I say the following: IT'S A VAGINA, NOT A CLOWN CAR!!! Quit FUCKING, and let's figure out this whole FOOD/AIR deal first, then figure out how to care for the children you have. AND STOP FUCKING. I mean, "Be fruitful and multiply," yadda yadda... If not for your reality show, you'd most likely be on government assistance of some sort.
And OCTOMOM??? Oh, holy... holy fuck. World-class Twatwaffle. 'Nuff said. I mean, you could write a book about the sheer number of issues she obviously has.
My sentiments on this matter say nothing of child exploitation, which TV shows covering these families really comes down to... If these families were not so large, no one would know who they are. I mean, the Goselins would be nobodies, as would the Duggars, and no one would really have an opinion one way or another on Octomom, either. These people are using their children as a fast ticket to fame, and I can only hope they have a much shorter fifteen minutes than they want. Imagine not only having too many siblings to really get proper attention from your parents but also having a TV producer, camera and sound crew surrounding you at all times. What do you think that would do to you? If you're lucky, you'll avoid ending up in a clocktower cuddling a rifle.
Lorelai and I have ONE child together. I am a father of four, but only Lizard lives with us. In some ways that should bother me, but in many it's a blessing. You see, Lizard will never have to feel like she's left out of anything children should be allowed to participate in because big brother/sister needs this/that. Now, I am certain that there are exceptions to every rule, but they are few and far between. I am the oldest of 6, and once we got to the point where there were 4 of us, we all for the most part ceased to exist because our parents couldn't handle us. This of course did not stop my parents from having 2 more. I have met families of even 8 who did not have that kind of problem, but I highly doubt there are many.
So if your family is that damned big, do us all a favor: STOP FUCKING AND DON'T USE YOUR KIDS FOR ATTENTION. Society and your children will thank you. |
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| On Our "Nigger" President |
[Feb. 16th, 2009|07:55 pm] |
So in case you were asleep, November 4, 2008, marked a milestone in our nation's history... But the milestone of which I am speaking is not the one you might think. Barack Obama's election to the office of the President of the United States of America marked two milestones that day. You see, on the one hand, you have the election of our first ever black President. On the other hand, you have the day that we found out just how far our nation still has to go in achieving a true balance of equal respect amongst the various races that ultimately make up the human race (or what passes for it in this country).
You see, it was no later than six o'clock the following morning that I heard, "well, we're fucked now. Obama got elected. That nigger's gonna take my guns, protect the muslims and fuck us all over."
Martin Luther King Jr. Day, When explaining to another commuter why the bus was going to be late that day, I heard, "Great, next they'll give our NIGGER PRESIDENT a fuckin' holiday..."
Today, which happens to be President's Day, Lorelai comes home from work, giving the usual summary of what sucked about her day, and quotes a caller, who said, "well, clinic's closed, they're celebrating that NIGGER HOLIDAY..."
It's been an average of once a week I have heard at least something negative about our new President. And alarmingly, almost HALF of these negative statements are centered on the COLOR OF HIS FUCKING SKIN. Now I ask you: WHAT FUCKING CENTURY IS THIS? After all the EQUAL RIGHTS LAWS and various steps we've taken to ensure equal treatment for all races, how is it that we still have such intolerance in this country based on something so superficial as the COLOR OF ONE'S SKIN?
I am one quarter JAPANESE, something on the order of about one thirty-second Sioux, and my last name is Wilcox. My last name is something of interest because of the following: Approximately HALF of the Wilcox's in this country are BLACK. It's in my fucking family tree. There is every likelihood that, given these circumstances, I have some black genes in my makeup.
And all I can say to that is: Virtually everyone in America, on some level, has some African genes in their bloodline. There are very few undiluted peoples in this world, and you will find them in the most remote and inaccessible regions of Africa, Papua New Guinea, and the jungles of Cambodia, Laos, and Vietnam. And guess what? YOU LOOK NOT ONE FUCKING THING LIKE THEM. Why? Because MOST of the world has been cross-breeding either through consent and inter-marriage or rape throughout history. Now, given this hard (and terribly inconvenient, to some) truth, please, oh PLEASE explain to me how the fuck one gets off spouting racial epithets about ANYONE?
Take the so-called "Master Race:" Blonde hair, blue eyes. How can you have a Master Race comprised of RECESSIVE genes? Brown eyes and blue eyes get together, the kid will have BROWN eyes. Brown or black hair and a blonde? Yup, you guessed it, the darker color will dominate. Further, civilization originated in the Fertile Crescent, that arid land between the Tigris and Euphrates rivers. AND THEY WERE NOT WHITE. The white race originated from a string of genetic anomalies, passed down from generation to generation, which helped us adapt to the circumstances that climate presented us in our area. We developed a long nose (for warming the air we breathe), fair skin (less exposure to the harsh sun led to less melanin produced for protection) and so on. The root race? Well, the oldest known fossils representing early man come from Africa, hence the name of the species: Australopithecus Afarensis, "the Ape Man of the Afar (Africa)." THERE'S YOUR MASTER RACE. Can't handle it? Then here's how you solve this problem: Go out to a remote area, lie down in the snow, take out a gun, put it in your mouth, and pull the fucking trigger-- effectively removing yourself from the human race and letting us get on with striving to achieve a better world.
It is those that feel themselves superior to someone because they happen to have a different level of melanin than someone else that piss me off to no end. It is those people that make me angry that society still has that far to go. It is those people that make me regret my very humanity because I feel tainted by their presence.
Now, some folks haven't bitched about our President's skin color. They have, however, attempted to blame him for the state of our nation. To them I say this: NO, the LAST President we had did that. Obama's trying to UN-FUCK us. But since it hasn't magically occurred overnight, they are quick to bitch about it. After all, our nation was left in financial ruin by a President who spent a several trillion dollar surplus into a several trillion dollar deficit fighting two wars, one of which was a fucking publicity stunt. This same man wiped his ass with our Constitution, with such strokes of genius as warantless wire-tapping and waterboarding authorized as means for acquiring intelligence. Guess what? Rome wasn't built in a day, and regardless of what that book you find in every hotel room says, the world wasn't created in a week, either. This will take time. If you're not willing to wait that long, then get the fuck out of my country. Because, after all, what other choice do you really fucking have?
I am not a patriot, not by a long shot. I know too much about our nation's true history to get behind all that bullshit. I didn't own a flag on 9-10, and I didn't buy one on 9-11. What I am is an American, born and raised. I believe that our nation is capable of great things, under the right circumstances. If you aren't capable of attempting to understand the scope of the mess that Barack Obama inherited on Inauguration Day, and the scope of what may need to be done in order to clean it up, then you are not American in my eyes.
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| (no subject) |
[Jan. 8th, 2009|09:42 pm] |
Your Word is "Fearless"
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You see life as your one chance to experience everything, and you just go for it!
You believe the biggest risk is being afraid and missing out on something amazing.
Sometimes your fearlessness means you're daring. You enjoy risky activities.
And sometimes your fearlessness means you're courageous. You're brave enough to do the right thing, even when it's scary.
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| On Ignition: |
[Dec. 27th, 2008|11:36 am] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | annoyed | ] |
It seems that some people in the Society for Creative Anachronism can't get it through their heads that two groups of people can't be good at the same thing and not hate eachother. Those two groups of people in this case are Fire and Steel, my performance troupe, and Ignition, a performance troupe led by another man named Khan (SCA name used here). BUT... The drama comes from a source completely outside of these two entities. I figure I'll address this drama, as if I've heard it, they've likely heard it too.
It's come to my attention by way of the same asshole quoted in my last Blog entry that APPARENTLY: I seem to think Ignition is stealing Fire and Steel's thunder. Ok, re-read that part. Again. Got it? You sure? Okay, read on: The Kingdom of An Tir is a HUGE place, spanning multiple states and last I heard, even part of Canuckistan. Given that both troupes really only ever overlap paths is at Seadog Nights (In other words, ONE event per year) one would think there's plenty enough thunder to go 'round, right? RIGHT? See, I thought you'd agree. I mean, we average four or five events per year. Ignition performs a lot more than we do. BUT-- Aside from Seadog, our paths don't intersect. So--- What thunder are they stealing, exactly? And who thought this up?
Second, it's also come to my attention by way of this same asshole that I think they're getting gigs that should be ours. All I can say to that is, "REALLY???" Seriously, let's look at the simple logistics of this issue: We're based in and around Portland, OR. They're based around Seattle, WA. Okay, now let's see here:
Here's a set of directions to a nightclub I found on Google, starting at my place (My address omitted):
 | 1: | Start out going NORTHWEST on xxxxxxxx. | 0.8 mi |
 | 2: | Merge onto OR-217 N toward PORTLAND. | 2.2 mi |
 | 3: | Merge onto US-26 E toward PORTLAND. | 4.7 mi |
 | 4: | Merge onto I-405 N via the exit on the LEFT toward ST. HELENS/SEATTLE. | 2.3 mi |
 | 5: | Merge onto I-5 N toward SEATTLE (Crossing into WASHINGTON). | 168.2 mi |
 | 6: | Take the W SEATTLE BR/COLUMBIAN WAY exit, EXIT 163. | 0.1 mi |
 | 7: | Take the SPOKANE ST. ramp toward SAFECO FIELD. | 0.4 mi |
 | 8: | Turn SLIGHT RIGHT onto S SPOKANE ST. | 0.4 mi |
 | 9: | Turn RIGHT onto 1ST AVE S. | 1.0 mi |
 | 10: | End at 1950 1st Ave S Seattle, WA 98134-1406 | |
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B: 1950 1st Ave S, Seattle, WA 98134-1406 Total Time: 3 hours 6 minutesTotal Distance: 180.15 miles
Now granted, this club was the FIRST result I could find using Google. I do not know if Ignition performs there. But pay special attention to the last line in the directions... Total time: 3 hours 6 minutes, Total distance: 180.15 miles. NOW-- Tell me WHAT exactly makes sense about me supposedly whining that they're taking shows from us? I mean, we'd spend about 300 dollars in gas money and fuel for the show, leaving little to nothing for profit... Plus spend six hours on the road to perform for one. In any scenario for a paid gig, you need to stay local or be willing to work for nothing when the cash totals out. Not logical by any means. So what shows, exactly, are they taking from us? And who thought THIS up?
Now, I can see where some may think I've said negative things about Ignition, but they're not, really. The following is an objective truth: They have PHENOMENAL teamwork-based acts, but they do need to work on developing more individual styles for acts where there is only one performer onstage. They practice together a lot, and this is not a bad thing by any stretch of the imagination, but this can also lead to homogenization of styles. The opposite is true of Fire and Steel. We have some AWESOME individual performances, acts, and styles. Our teamwork-- not so much. We need to work on that, ourselves. It's going to be slow going, because we're scattered all over the place and don't get much opportunity to practice together. You see, just because you might hear about what I perceive to be one troupe's weakness... Does NOT mean that I am unaware that Fire and Steel, my own troupe, has its shortcomings as well. And if you ask me at any time, you will find I will outright tell you what our weaknesses are. I call them like I see them and tell it like it is. PERIOD.
Personally, I do believe that Ignition can and will learn to develop more individual styles for single member acts. I believe that both troupes have their strengths, and that these strengths happen to be the things that the other needs to work on. I believe that both troupes will get these things down, and that both troupes will be equally unstoppable. AND THERE WILL STILL BE ENOUGH THUNDER TO GO AROUND. If you think I've actually taken up arms against Ignition, you have another thing coming. For instance, Khan HIMSELF can tell you about Autumn War two years ago, when I stood in their encampment and freely handed out tips and information ranging from helping to keep your tools from fraying to useless bundles of Kevlar to which chemicals, when added to denatured alcohol, produce which colors. Does this sound like someone at odds with them? Likewise, he and I can both tell you about Seadog last year when he happened to have his leather repair kit onhand when I needed a rivet to fix a broken shackle strap. Does this sound like someone who hates me? Or has anything REMOTELY personal against me?
So bottom line: Here you have two troupes of performers, both of whom excel at fire performance. We're in competition, yes, but are we adversaries? I tend not to think so. You see, it just doesn't make any sense for there to be personal friction between the two groups, as we are too far apart, and are too different. Those who don't see it that way: All I can tell you is that I hope you eventually fall into the crack-- The one filled with people who ask why they HAVE to have a favorite and not just enjoy both troupes' shows.
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| On Exactly WHY I Don't Play in the Public BDSM Scene... |
[Dec. 22nd, 2008|06:44 am] |
Recently, in a group on FetLife, I ran into this little gem of a post (names eliminated to protect the identities of those I would rather see left alone and most of the responders have been left out):
workshop fireplay:dancing with the sun by Sol December 27th at the asylum
Xnumber1 started this discussion 1 day ago Saturday December 27th The asylum(Eugene, Or) is pleased to welcome nationally recognized presenter XXXXXX. This is a class I have taken, and it is not to miss. It's my opinion that Sol is one the best in the business at fireplay, and this class is a bargain compared to what it might cost in other cities.
XXX on Fire Play: Dancing with the Sun!
Letʼs talk a little about Fire Performance. Why do we dance with fire? It is because of the primal nature of the element. Man lives in awe of the elements and has worshiped them from the dawn of time. Using the elements brings incredible power to any art. When man harnessed the element of fire the primal nature was tapped. Or have we harnessed it? The illusion of control has at times led to devastating effects. Yet man is still fascinated by fire as he dances with utility and the power he will never control.
In this discussion xxxxxx will demonstrate dancing with fire as it pertains to BDSM play and beyond; for the dance is a must, because control is an illusion. A fire performer learns to move with the fire and guide it in a profound and fascinating dance. We will discuss how a fire performer develops a relationship with the uncontrollable and manages the risk while maintaining intensity. In the BDSM world we use the intensity of fire to build and thrill, and also to massage and relax with sensual touch. Fire is a dance and a journey of the spirit as well as the body. Come see a Dance with the Sun.
about XXX
XXXXXX "XXX" is a nationally recognized sex-positive educator and performance artist active in the fetish, bondage and BDSM communities. Beginning consciously in 1980, XXX's alternative journey has resolved into a commitment to merge art, spirituality and connection into his lifestyle in expressions of sacred sexuality, alternative relationships, and participation in BDSM and bondage that include Japanese rope bondage, body art, Edge play, sensation play and photography. Additionally XXX works with the community in developing interpersonal communication and group dynamics. While teaching technique is a forte XXX believes the soul of relationship is what gives expressions potential.
XXX is the leader of (INSERT BONDAGE COMMUNITY NAME HERE), a proud member of the NCSF, and has been an active contributor to many lifestyle conventions, venues, and organizations. Some of these include the Folsom Fringe, Paradise Unbound, GWNN Bash, Club X, Edges Dungeon, SAADE, the Training Camp, APEX, and the SF Citadel. (These entities left named because they don't indicate his identity. There are plenty of people who are involved in all of these.)
the cost of this class will be $10 and will start at 6pm. The doors will open for this class at 5:30pm
to attend this class You have to be a member of the XXXXXX or have applied for membership(thats how You get the adress). if You are not a member take a minute to apply at our website (LINK REMOVED.)
Ok now... Let's see... So am I reading about a BDSM Dom of high caliber? ... OR... Is this taken from a brochure about a noted Motivational Speaker? Which is it? The second paragraph is where I have my issue. There is no mention of actual curriculum aside from the "dance as it pertains to BDSM." Now, I have practiced fireplay for 7 years, and at no point have I heard of a "dance" being involved... But as the article says, "the dance is a must, because control is an illusion..." Wait-- WHAT? Run that by me again? This whole thing reads like some overblown, overly indulgent self-love affair.
...And I posted my opinion stating as much.
 No offense meant, but this sounds like the most over-indulgent line of PR I have ever read. Did you actually write this, or was it taken from a promotional brochure? And of course, the Dickwagging begins: xnumber1 responded 1 day ago: well lets here Your bio then........I am sure You are also a presenter who has taught all around the country right? My profile is linked in my first reply for those interested. If anyone can find any claim to that effect, please feel free to point it out. My response: WOW, how very defensive we get all of a sudden... No,I am not a presenter who has taught all over the country-- I simply don't profess to be the "End all Be all, the Alpha and the Omega" of what I do.
As for a resume, I've been into fireplay for 7 years now. In that time I have done more demonstrations in fireplay than would be truly believable if described here, and if I did in fact put it all down, I would at least not put on airs.
Now don't get me wrong, some of the stuff listed in this thread are things I tip my hat to, but for the most part it sounds too self-indulgent for me to really put much stock in.
Let's hear some real statistics. How long has XXX been practicing fireplay? Estimated number of fireplay acts? Estimated if not total number of related injuries to self or subs? Give me something I can put stock in. Therein lies the credibility of one's methods. For all I know he's taught all over the country and horribly scarred someone at every stop. Now I am NOT saying this is the case, but there is little here for me to go on. Let's be realistic here: Oregon happens to have plenty enough teachers who are competent at their forte, so if you really want folks to go to these classes, you're gonna need more than the "Grand Poobah" routine.
Now, I have never played in the public scene because first, there has been no need to. Second, there are too many people who need to be reminded that it's just one big game of "Let's Pretend." These folks come in two varieties: The newbies, who haven't realized it yet, and the Veterans, who once knew this but now the simulated power and simulated submission have gone to their heads. They've forgotten. And there are more in the public scene than in private. I have spoken with many a competent Dom (used interchangeably with Domme, Master, Mastyr, Mistress, Madame, and all other terms meaning a simulated superior role) who gets this. They feel nothing but sympathy for those who don't or once did but have forgotten. It's not really the case for the majority of public Scene players, but there are enough of them to just shred any desire to get involved. |
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| Warmer Thoughts |
[Dec. 15th, 2008|12:07 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  cold | ] |
On this, the first day after the first snow of the year in my little burg of Good Ol' Beaverton, I find myself reflecting on warmer times.Therefore I have decided to take this opportunity to reflect on last performance season by showing you some of the photos taken and shared with me.
All images in this post were taken by Dawlmesh Northshadow of Clan Northshadow.
( Cut to save your browser-- VERY graphically intensive )
Keep in mind that MANY upon many more pictures were taken of each show at each event... I have merely chosen the ones I think best represent us and best portray the action and energy of our shows. Thanks again to Dawlmesh for providing me with these images. I look forward to next season... As should you. |
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| On Person vs. Persona |
[Nov. 2nd, 2008|10:51 am] |
I think it's time to let a few folks who read my blog (my loyal tens of readers) know a bit about the differences between Fred Wilcox and Frederick the Reckless. You see, if you know me from events, and only from events, you don't know me at all. Frederick the Reckless is a "Larger than Life( tm )" version of myself, and even then, not my WHOLE self. It is a persona derived from a few of my more boisterous traits, completely out of proportion. Frederick the Reckless is an arrogant, bawdy, cocky individual whom even I can't stand at times. He is my competitive nature, my outspokenness, my ego blown up to the point where he even disgusts ME. He's fun to play-- for a while. I can't even really stay in persona for a full event at a time. He's mentally taxing and sometimes physically exhausting to portray. Think it through: How tired would you be of swaggering everywhere, performing with fire or weapons, fighting, all the while flirting with every woman who looks good in a bodice? For a whole weekend? Funny thing is, if folks would drop by my encampment most times, they wouldn't find Frederick the Reckless there. Not even if I'm sitting in a chair outside my tent. Finding this hard to follow? Good. You're not alone. Even I have a hard time keeping up with him, and I'm the one playing him.
Now, I make some wonderful things-- Talons, shackles, leather garb and accessories-- and I take pride in my work. This is not something that most, outside of their knowledge of Frederick the Reckless, would view as arrogant. I am an excellent performer with fire or live steel weapons. I take pride in that, too. Again, not something that alone would make me seem arrogant. I am an okay fighter (once upon a time I took it more seriously, and was MUCH better then) but really would classify myself as mediocre these days. It is only my persona that makes me seem more proficient with a weapon in battle than I really am. It's more showmanship than anything else. I take pride in my ability to entertain. Once again, this is a trait that, viewed alone, would not make me seem arrogant.
It's only when you add this all up, and throw in a heavy seasoning of roleplay that I seem arrogant. But this is not Fred Wilcox you view when you are bearing witness to the grotesque bravado and rampant testosterone that is Frederick the Reckless. I have only one justification for Frederick's existence: I can back up every brag that HE makes. If Frederick says he can do something, I can back it up. It's that simple. I learned early in life that you shouldn't make brags you can't support. It only takes one person, one time, to say "Oh, yeah? Prove it," to destroy every last bit of your credibility. It's the fact that I have so many things I CAN back up that make Frederick seem more arrogant than even HE is. I am at once one of the most respected and hated people in the Kingdom of An Tir. For the same reasons. Either people wish to be like me, or they are too like me. To be respected by someone because they want to be like you is called being a Role Model. To be hated for the same reason? That is called Jealousy. To be respected by someone because they are very much like you is called Kinship. To be hated for the same reason? One is left to ask whether that person hates himself or not. But whether you like me or hate me, regardless of the reason, you shouldn't if all you know is the persona you meet at events. That's not me. You should get to know Fred Wilcox, and make up your own mind.
What is He? A rebel among rebels. Pirates in the Kingdom of An Tir are pretty much considered the rebels of the SCA. Their presence is looked down upon at many sanctioned events, to the point where some high-horse riding soap-boxers will even refuse to speak to a pirate. But when the trend drifts to the point where pirates run rampant, and every one and their respective siblings are portraying pirates at events, who rebels against them? You guessed it. Frederick the Reckless. You see, one can rebel against such a trend in two ways: You can either portray a PERFECTLY period piratical persona (DON'T try to say THAT three times rapidly) and dedicate your time to educating those not in proper period attire on how things were done/worn/carried... And lose a lot of friends for being a "Period Nazi." OR... You can portray a pirate so over-the-top that most other pirates can't stand you, and find out which folks are REALLY your friends. I'll give you three guesses which route I chose, and the first two don't count.
Who am I? A cornball. I was the Class Clown all through school. I took drama in high school. I had imaginary friends as a kid. LOTS of them. I wet the bed until I was thirteen. I play Dungeons and Dragons. I am, at my heart, a geek. Simple as that. I have been, in my working life, many things. Soldier, Security Guard, Gas station attendant, unskilled labor in concrete sewer pipe manufacturing, air valve manufacture, injection molding, circuit board assembly and warehouse worker. I am currently and have been for the past ten years a sheet metal finisher. I am a father, a husband, a friend to those who have looked past the veil that is Frederick the Reckless. I am all this and more, too many traits and features to list in a simple blog entry. Just, I imagine, like YOU. |
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| On Fairness (Let's HAVE Some, Shall We?) |
[Sep. 22nd, 2008|07:13 pm] |
| [ | Current Location |
| | In my (NOT-SO) Happy Place | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  infuriated | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | The Metallic Ringing-Singing of Steel on a Whetstone | ] |
Some of you know that I have not one but two sons, not one but two daughters, four children in all. Some of you know that I have been paying child support on one of them, to the tune of $688.00 a month, for the past four years. And some of you know that, due to the arrival of my youngest daughter, I recently filed to have the child support amount reduced. Very few of you know what followed that filing. READ ON...
When I filed to have the amount reduced, it was not long before I got a witholding order stating an obligation of $427.00 per month in child support with a balance due of $11,500 dollars or so. Okay, I'm used to seeing a back child support balance (I was unemployed for ten months in 2004 with no way to make payments) so I figured it was just back child support they recently uncovered and tacked onto the order. It was not until I received a CHECK for $344.00 that I realized it was a balance due... TO ME.
I got the euphoria that you usually get when you get a windfall, which lasted all of five minutes. Just long enough for me to ask myself: "Hey... Uhm...er...who's footing the bill?" Then it dawned on me that some sort of terrible mistake may have been made-- like writing down my daughter's birthdate as 2-8-06 instead of 2-6-08, or that perhaps my sloppy handwriting made my "8" look like a "6," as it sometimes can if I'm in a hurry. I took out my calculator, and added it all up, multiplying the check amount by the number of months it would take to make that kind of typo. About nine grand... No, that's not it.
I pondered this for a few days, then I remembered something: Shortly before I returned to the working world, I attended a hearing, during which the judge lowered my potential income to minimum wage. Shortly afterward, I received a paper stating that my monthly obligation would be $427.00 per month, with a back child support balance of a little over $5,000.00. Well, okay, but when I got a job, I received a witholding order stating a monthly obligation of $688.00 per month, with over $8,000.00 back due. I figured, "they know better than I do as far as what they're doing. Besides, who am I to question the courts?" And I lived with it.
I eventually caught up on my back due support, and all was well with a universe clever enough to contain yours truly... Or so it seemed. I overdrew my bank account many times over the next four years, sometimes relying on the bank's willingness to cover transactions and take an overdraft fee rather than return a transaction in order to ensure that my rent was paid and I had my bus pass. I endured months where I had to choose which utility bill to pay, and catch up later if I could. But for the most part I made things work as well as I could. I adapted, knowing that at least I was able to meet my obligation.
Then came the day: February 6, 2008. Our daughter, Lizard, arrived. I was hesitant at first to apply for modification of the child support obligation, deciding to see if we could make it with the payment as it is. we found daycare for a sweet deal, that fit into our budget, and lorelai gets great benefits, so Lizard's covered there, so no biggie. But soon our daycare provider, who had also been trying to make it on very little, came to us needing more. We agreed to raise her pay, knowing it was worth it-- Lizard ADORED her. This meant I needed to stop putting it off and apply for a modification, hoping the mother of my third child would not see it as some sort of personal thing (We rarely speak-- there are some issues, not up for discussion here. I will not elaborate on this. Deal with it.). So I went to the courthouse and got the necessary paperwork, filled it out, and sent it in. And waited.
Okay, go back up and re-read that second paragraph. Okay, go back and re-read it. Again. Got it? Okay, read on...
Now I'm panicking, and it dawns on me: When I got the order for child support with an obligation of $427, I never got a witholding order. Previously, I had received witholding orders for $688, intended for my old place of employment. It dawned on me, four years later, that they SENT THE WRONG WITHOLDING ORDER TO MY NEW JOB. They had been taking $271.00 per month MORE than they should have been. Total it all up, and it makes up the balance due to me. Almost to the penny. This meant that the mother of my third, to whom I had been paying child support, was IN DEBT to me for over $11,000.00!!! Which meant that she would be receiving reduced checks for nearly the next three years. Less than $100.00 per month, in fact.
The first thing I did was to call the courthouse to see if I was right about how this came to pass, which I was. The next thing I did dropped the attorney's jaw on the desk: I asked, "Is there any way I can just walk away from that debt, you know, let her keep it?" It's then that things started getting muddier and muddier. See, there's no precedent for that. They sent a cease witholding order, terminating payment of child support. This is their solution to the problem? Leave my third child with NOTHING? Yeah, they decided to terminate child support until the balance is caught up. Then they transfered me to another department because I had questions. That department's solution? CLOSE THE CASE. Oh, holy fuck, this is BULLSHIT!!!
So finally, I get a free moment, and the mother of my third calls me. I explain the situation, and how it's nothing she or I did wrong. The STATE screwed up, but somehow or other she is supposed to be held accountable for it. The thing that absolutely INFURIATES me is that had I not applied for a modification, they would STILL be taking that extra money. Go back and re-read the fifth paragraph. Now I ask you: DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY OF THOSE MONTHS $271.00 MORE WOULD HAVE PREVENTED AN OVERDRAFT OR KEPT ME FROM FALLING BEHIND ON MY UTILITIES? Every fucking month. But THEY screw up, THEY misfiled the witholding order, THEY let it go for four years, and now SHE has to pay for it??? BULLSHIT!!! FUCKING BULLSHIT!!! It's not right, it's not fair, and I would rather not have the money back if it means I have to run a FIVE YEAR-OLD through a MEATGRINDER to get it. Because that's who ultimately suffers for the State's mistake.
So in two weeks, I intend to go with her to the courthouse and file whatever paperwork I need to to get that debt off her shoulders. It's not her mistake, it's theirs. I also intend to talk to a lawyer about who I need to sue to see to it that fairness is served. It would be nice if I could also get punitive damages for pain and suffering, but I'll settle for the money-- and some semblance of my life-- back.
So to the Dead-Beat Dads of the world: You dodge your child support obligation, I meet mine. You avoid finding work to get out of paying for it, I bust ass at my job to make sure I meet my obligations to both my third child and my family here at home. You find out you have money coming, you take it, regardless of who suffers and how they suffer. I am willing to refuse the $11,450.00 owed to me because I refuse to allow a child to starve. I am more a man than you will ever be.
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| To the Flock: |
[Sep. 15th, 2008|06:13 pm] |
Another election year is upon us, and once again the country galvanizes itself and divides into two schools of thought. Once again the issues are debated. Once again the mud flies. Once again, common folk on the street and in the workplace confront eachother and try to sway views. And once again, people are criticized over differences in beliefs.
The biggest one on my plate of late is the War in Iraq(tm). This is debated at my workplace, a sheet metal shop in the aerospace industry. The single biggest proponent of the War(tm) is a man who wears Marine Corps regalia every day-- T-shirts, Sweaters, Ballcaps, Pins, not one of his four different vehicles has less than three stickers or magnetic ribbons touting the alleged superiority of the Marines over all the other branches of the United States Military. This type of branch worship would be respectable, if not for one point: HE'S NEVER SERVED. His sons are all in the Corps, and he lives vicariously through them. He tried today to goad me into a debate on the War(tm). He did not like the result.
Now, before I go on, allow me to be CRYSTAL FUCKING CLEAR on one point: I am former Army. I come from a family (TWO, if you count my first stepfather) with a long history of military service. I do not in ANY way disparage anyone for serving. Regardless of your branch, you served the interests of this country. You should be thanked for your self-sacrifice, regardless of how you served, during War- or Peacetime. It is you, the Men and Women of the United States Armed Forces that have my respect. I do not owe any respect to a poseur living vicariously through his children because he was either unwilling or unable to serve.
The War(tm) on the other hand, I do not support. I did not think we had reason to be there before it began, I certainly didn't think it was justified after we found NO WMD there and changed tack and decided to Liberate(tm) Iraq, and changed tack again in order to capture Saddam Hussein and I don't think we should be there now. I feel this way for a few reasons, which will be explained shortly.
Now before you grab the Soapbox(tm) and balance it precariously on your High Horse(tm) and come at me with,"You should be happy you live in America, where people fought and died so that you could be free to say these things!!!" Allow me to tell you to shove it up your High-and-Mighty Ass(tm). I am well aware of the sacrifices our men and women have made, and am grateful for them, thankyouverymuch. It still doesn't mean I have to agree with you.
The debate ended thusly: "Tell you what, Vicarious Poseur-- I'll be more than happy to join your little flock of sheep when you can tell me how exactly the War(tm) is preserving our Freedom(tm). Or for that matter, how this War(tm) has made us more free at all...? Or when, exactly, Iraq was ever an actual threat to OUR Freedom(tm)? And while you're pondering the answers to those questions, I'll throw in a bonus question: Why is our Department of Defense(tm) ALWAYS on the OFFENSE? On someone else's behalf? Janis Joplin said it better than I ever could: FIGHTING for PEACE is like FUCKING for VIRGINITY."
He had no answers to my questions, and so far, NO ONE ELSE has had any, either.
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| Blakcthorne Revel, RENEGADE Style (Once again a long entry--Sorry folks.) |
[Aug. 29th, 2008|09:25 am] |
I suppose it's merely fate that dictates when I blog about my eventing season this year. Yu see, most of the year, it's been the week after that I finally have time to do so. This time around, I swore it wouldn't be a week after the event that I write about it, and it happened. It's been TWO. Not due to time or inclination, but more due to computer issues. The internet was hooked up to Lorelai's computer, and this was not a problem... That is, it wasn't a problem until spyware and malware infected the hell out of it, prompting us to decide to wipe the drive. Problem: We have XP on her computer. For those not savvy enough to understand what this means, Microsoft decided to make it as near to impossible as possible to reformat your hard drive starting with the first release of Windows XP. None of the instructions online work, period. To top it all off, the tower needs a new pocessor. Lovely. So, we connected my big badass Dell to the 'net. Still trying to figure out how to import the favorites to Vista (Worse than XP for user friendliness). But enough about that...
Blackthorne Revel:
We arrived at the site looking forward to temperatures over 100 all weekend long-- NOT good for the baby, call her Lizard or not. We got there to find our luck was definitely in, as Fire and Steel's members, comprised crewmembers from the Leo's Pride and Chaos Star pirate ships, had chosen a wonderful spot with plenty of shade. This meant it was only about 95 to 98 when we were in camp... Not too cool, but you take what you can get. After setting up the tent (for which we have been getting "OMFG that's HUGE" and "Wow that's an awesome tent" comments all season) and getting everything else in order, Lorelai broke out the item that would prove to be a saving grace for Lizard: A kiddie pool. Joseph, myself, and Godiva (NOT her real name, but chosen for her LOVELY and EXTREMELY long blonde hair), one of Lorelai's coworkers, got to filling the pool, using five gallon buckets. We had a nice rotation of three buckets going, and within fifteen minutes had it filled about halfway. Not too deep for Lizard to crawl around in, but deep enough for feet to get a nice cool respite from the heat.
I went around and met with folks, from the Criminal Dawn to the Blackthornes and the Sleeping Dragon, as well as several other households too numerous to name. I also circulated the "OFFICIAL BULLETIN FOLLOWS: (wink, wink) THERE WILL BE NO (wink) ADULT (wink) FIRE SHOW (wink, wink) TOMORROW NIGHT (wink) AFTER THE RANGERS LEAVE (wink,wink) END TRANSMISSION" bulletin. There was a ban on fire performance at the site, placed retroactively to a SNAFU over paperwork, and retroactively to the autocrat getting APPROVAL from the site manager... Hence the official bulletin. The adult show at this event was to be, as it is called in Portland's fire performance circles, RENEGADE. This is to say it happens without permission or sanction. It happens all the time, really, but you'd never know it. Either way, the first night was to be about drinking and carousing, meeting new people (or in this case for the most part people I already know, and never get to see outside of events). There was much partying going on at Criminal Dawn, as usual. Topless bellydancers, drinking, drums, Tablero games, drinking, and more drinking. It was a bit of a culture shock to Godiva, as I think she had never found herself in a social situation so chaotic and free-spirited (in a Gypsy and Pirate way, not Hippie-style). Once she got it that no one here was doing anything they didn't want to do (going topless was the biggest shock) and that nothing was compulsory, she sat down to watch some Tablero. When I left, she was thinking about learning it. This being her first event, I found her an escort to see to it that she made it back to camp okay. I got back to camp and found most everyone still awake, and sat myself down to join in on the relatively quiet conversation. It was a good while before Lorelai and I turned in.
Saturday was HOT. Not just hot, FUCKING HOT. Morning started out with breakfast, of course. This was followed by the first signs of Godiva really warming up to the event-- learning swordsmanship from Puppy, Boulron, Riggs and Finn. She had an absolute ball trying to kill people with Boffers. I walked baby around a bit after Ronnie caught up with me in my wanderings, passing her off to me. Let me tell you, Lizard is just fascinated with all the new people. She never wants to nap at an event, because she doesn't want to miss anything or anyone. She spent all sorts of time being passed around, abducted, etcetera, to teh point where she spent most of the day grinning and laughing despite the heat. I went shopping, and found a nice knife for around-town wear, and bought a sword I had played with for a bit at Seadog. It's not so much a sword, really, as a double bladed baton. I like it so far, despite the Katana curve to the blades at either end (straight would handle better) and look forward to seeing what I can do with it in the future.
The first (and only OFFICIAL) show of the day came around, a live steel dance show we call "Weapons of Mass Distraction." This time around it wasn't a one-man show, since Boulron and Riggs brought their blades out to play. In all we delivered an eighteen minute show, not bad considering how new the repertoire is to all of us. No one had any complaints, so it's all good, really. After the show I changed into my shorts and made a beeline for the creek. Suffice to say the water was cold and the rocks slippery. I left my shoes on for traction and head into the water. By the gods I needed to get the sweat off my skin. Sweat only cools you down for so long before the salt on your skin does the opposite. I rinsed off really good during about a half-hour soak, and headed back to camp for some rest and food. I sat around camp, browsed merchant's row, and bided my time til dark.
Dawlmesh was taking portraits in his portable studio, so Lorelai, Godiva, myself and the members of Fire and Steel in attendance at Blackthorne Revel got into our best Garb and went to get portraits taken. Much fun was had by all, and Dawlmesh took one look at me in my full Pirate attire and let out a "JESUS, Frederick!!!" in response. When I get garbed up I am wearing about fifty extra pounds of leather and weapons... Suffice to say when I get the pictures I WILL be sharing. Lorelai got some nice portraits taken and she and I got some of us together after I came back from changing into my performance outfit (MUCH lighter-- Only about 20 pounds of leather and metal.) Godiva had fun being the center of attention during her shoot, and got to play with one of my guns for some shots.
Time came 'round for the (OFFICIALLY NOT HAPPENING) Adult fire show... We set up lookouts with radios and went to town. I briefed everyone on the happenings of the evening and what to expect, and started the line of floggings. I brought with me some Mardi-Gras beads, or "Boobie beads." Here they weren't so much "Boobie Beads" as "Burnie Beads." When I do these fireplay demonstrations it's a totally equal opportunity thing. Male, female, in between, I don't care. You want an experience with fire, I will provide it. I will provide it not only because you want it, but because I can do it safely. It's the approach I take to it that makes it so that virtually everyone who volunteers for it generally decides that I am the only one they will ever trust to do it again. And again. And again. Indeed much fun was had by all in attendance. Every participant got a strand each time they came up. I won't bore you with a blow-by-blow, but I will say that one person volunteered that I never would have expected to, it was nice to see two people who were originally taken in by drama from a former friend confide that they were glad to see he was wrong about me, and there were two people who went fully nude so that I could draw flaming designs all over, and I mean EVERYWHERE. Let's just say that the most wicked fleshing done all night was a horseshoe outline of the Vulva, connected to a cross that went up the center of the torso and from nipple to nipple. Her response: LEVITATION. Loud, happy, practically orgasmic levitation. She came up off the table, appeared to hover there at an altitude of about ten inches, and settled back to the top of the picnic table with all kinds of happy noises.
The next day, we did the usual pack-up-and-say-goodbye routine. We got everything into the vehicles, and a decision was officially made: Lorelai is starting up a household, based on the number of regular campers we have in our group at events. Come the Gathering, you can look forward to hearing a new name: House Dancing Sabers. |
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| The Anachronist Manifesto |
[Aug. 10th, 2008|09:44 am] |
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The Anachronist Manifesto 1. The Society for Creative Anachronism is NOT a LARP. Quit trying to make it one. Leave the fucking ELF EARS, VAMPIRE FANGS AND COLORED CONTACT LENSES at home. 2. The Society for Creative Anachronism is NOT a SCI-FI convention. So YOU-- the moron in JEDI KNIGHT garb-- use the FORCE and contact your buddy in STARFLEET and have him beam your sorry ass up. 3. The Society for Creative Anachronism is NOT a COSPLAY convention. So YOU-- the idiot dressed as ROURONI KENSHIN with the NARUTO headband-- GET THE HELL OUT. 4. The Society for Creative Anachronism is NOT a VIDEO GAME. So YOU-- the VIDIOT fighting Florentine with a BUSTER SWORD and a fucking KEYBLADE-- GET OFF MY BATTLEFIELD. 5. UTILIKILTS are NOT garb. They aren’t even an ATTEMPT, let alone a REASONABLE one. They belong in the mundane world. Don’t give me the “Well, if they had canvas, they’d have made kilts from it,” routine, either. To believe that justifies your argument would mean that if I pulled a .45 ACP and shot your ass, I could justify it by saying that if they’d had them they’d have used them, and you wouldn’t argue. You KNOW you would. For that matter, they may well decide to make kilts out of canvas, but they STILL wouldn’t have CARGO POCKETS or QUICK-SNAPS. They are still about as period as Button-Fly Levi’s 501’s. Take your piss-poor excuse elsewhere. 6. Pirates were NOT a romantic ideal. They were greedy, bloodthirsty cutthroats who would KILL you if they thought they would profit from something you have. They didn’t go about in polite society announcing and advertising their lifestyle. Think it through… Would you advertise a profession whose retirement plan generally included a NOOSE? 7. There was NO fucking PIRATE CODE. See above. This matter is closed. 8. JACK SPARROW would not have survived two minutes at sea. Quit dressing and acting like him. You only look like an idiot. Or a COSPLAYER. See item 3. 9. Courtesans were just sophisticated WHORES. Venetian Courtesans had education, they had means, but they still slept with anyone with enough money. Capisce? If you can’t make peace with that, choose another persona. 10. Bards were just BEGGARS with a GIMMICK. They were not revered as a romantic ideal. Sure, William Shakespeare this, William Shakespeare that. Guess what? He was an EXTREMELY RARE exception. You are not Shakespeare. Can’t make peace with this? Choose another persona. 11. Bards did more than just SING and TELL STORIES. As mentioned above, they were beggars with gimmicks. If you came up with a way to entertain the folks you were trying to beg coin from, you were more likely to get said coin. Fire eaters, prize fighters, and comedians, as well as mimes, dancers, and jugglers were ALSO bards. Can’t make peace with this either? Too bad. 12. You are NOT more period than anyone else. Not unless the garb you are wearing is made from locally acquired free-range and organically raised sources, hand-spun and woven, and hand-dyed with naturally occurring local sources. Not unless all the leather you’re wearing is chewed or brain- or urine- or birch-tanned. Oh, and rubber soles? Right out of the question. ALSO, you have been vaccinated and you most likely have all your teeth thanks to thoroughly modern inventions like Flouride toothpaste. So if you’re the type to lord your “Period-ness” over others, guess what? You are no more period than anyone else. Can’t make peace with this? Get the hell out. 13. The Society for Creative Anachronism is NOT real life. The King is King because he beat up the right people. It’s all one BIG game of “LET’S PRETEND.” It is the most immersive and potentially most EXPENSIVE game of “Lets Pretend” you’ll ever participate in, but the payoff is that it’s coupled with the coolest and potentially most informative session of “Show and Tell” you’ll ever see. The fact is, however, that if you take it too seriously, you’re in for a serious reality check. And if you’re a “PERIOD NAZI” Your reality check is gonna bounce. End of discussion.
Feel free in Comments to give your own additions. |
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| DMDT and the Great Misadventure (LONG ENTRY...) |
[Aug. 8th, 2008|11:42 am] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  complacent | ] |
Well, folks, Dragon's Mist Defender's Tourney happened last weekend, and there's lots to tell. The event is one of the few sanctioned events I like, as it's rather laid back compared to the big Kingdom level events. Not nearly as much politicking and suchlike, and there are few if any "Period Nazis" as we call them. In fact if there were any there last weekend, I would never have known it. It was, overall, a VERY relaxing event. Here are the highlights:
We arrived a lot later than usual, about seven o'clock Friday evening, and began setting up. It was harder than usual, not only because of the time, but because I had little help as Lorelai volunteered to help with parking direction. Not that big a deal, really. I had people more than willing to kidnap the baby while I got things done. I even had help setting up the tent from hell (imagine a dome tent that viewed from above is a giant cross 25 feet across lengthwise and 20 feet widthwise) which cannot be set up singlehandedly. I had to borrow a hammer as it will not stand without stakes, and while it took longer due to darkness, it went up just fine. I set up the baby's room and made our bed up, moved everything in, and got changed into garb by the time Lorelai got relief at the parking area. We basically spent the evening relaxing, carousing with friends and doing some minor drinking (no way in hell was I going to overdo it like Seadog Nights the weekend prior). We didn't gear up and perform Friday, as we had only been cleared to perform Saturday night with fire. High fire danger season is the biggest problem for firedancers, and despite the season, the property owner --having seen Fire and Steel perform a few times himself-- gave us permission to perform for one night. Such is our reputation for safe performance. Lorelai and I settled into our bed after the baby was well asleep, in her own personal room with a space heater outside her crib.
Morning started with a breakfast of camp hash, with the meat on the side as Lorelai's mother is a vegetarian. As the day passed, I perused the merchants and, not finding anything in particular I wanted, for myself or for Lorelai, managed not to spend any money. I did, however, spend some time watching the fighters bash at one another with rattan, entertaining enough when the fighters in question are good at it. The best was the match between the two Mongol fighters, knights in fact, both of whom were from the same household if their manner of dress was any indication.
I tried a bit of practice for the daytime show, "Weapons of Mass Distraction," but every time I got going really good, the children on site would flock over and get too close, despite my warnings they could be seriously injured. I eventually gave up, but for a bit I was ahving a really fun target practice splitting grapes with my whip.(Do not mistake me for being surgically accurate. I still miss more than I hit, but it was fun to see grape pieces fly when I hit my mark.) Time eventually came about for the show, and I headed out to stage. The show was a one-man deal, as Sithneibh tried, but did not succeed at her Sword-Swallowing act in practice. If she can't get it in practice, then it doesn't get attempted onstage. Allow me to make it clear that in no way did she let me down. She showed, she tried. That is all I ever ask. Success is just a bonus. I sent out, began my patter for the day show, and didn't stop until I had done: My large curved broadsword, my somewhat shorter ninja sword, Envy (my new whip) demonstrating trick cracks, the ribbon staff (it has three-foot streamers on the ends for a nice tracer effect in daylight) and single and double Dirk tricks. Suffice to say, it was a good show, though some of the audience as well as I felt it was nowhere near as impressive as our fire shows.
Night fell, and the rest of the troupe who could make it showed for the fire show. We all met up, gathered our gear into a pickup truck, and everyone but I headed out to stage. It's a tradition that I carry the troupe's Standard out to stage myself, sort of like a military Guidon. I announced the time of the show and told everyone onsite to follow me if they didn't know the way. I only said it once. I only HAD to say it once. I can project pretty well when I need to, and the accoustics in the valley we were in were just plain impressive. We showed up in hte middle of a wedding party, as expected. We knew there would be one going on, so it was no big deal. At first the partygoers were disappointed that we were there... To the point of being rude in comments about us and the rest of the people attending the tourney. But that ALL stopped once the show began. Let's face it, Fire and Steel is fucking IMPRESSIVE. All conversation at the wedding party stopped cold once we began. I felt a little more was going to be needed to make them feel truly welcome to watch the show, so I took my fire eating torches out and walked right up to the edge of the party. I began my usual fire eating routine, demonstrating that we do in fact put flaming objects into our mouths. I then used an unlit torch to fuel the tip of my tongue and, with the lit one, set the fuel alight, holding the flame there long enough to ignite the unlit one. Suffice to say, minds were blown. Joseph (Pronounced Yosef) the Green took a page from my book, and breathed fire right in front of them, and I later performed a "Baptism by Fire" (an act where I dance in close proximity to a volunteer with a flaming baton)around the newlywed couple. The rest of the show was pretty routine, with Illyanna delivering a STELLAR firefan set, firebreathing by all, and Lorelai joining Illyanna onstage for a palmtorch duet dance. Everything flowed, with little deadtime, and great energy throughout the show. We kept it short, as we were given an hour and fifteen minutes including setup, performance and striking the set and leaving the area. The wedding party was suddenly just the happiest people in the world that we came down for the show, and I think we left a very positive impression.
Later, after the show, there was much carousing and Bardic competition underway. Lorelai entered, and I watched for a bit before entering in the amateur division (I am not professionally trained, nor do I sing professionally). While Lorelai did not win, she still sounded fabulous. I don't quite know how, but I won in the amateur division with my rendition of Great Big Sea's "The Old Black Rum." Most sang more than once, I only did the one song. Either way, I got a beautiful pouch, in black and red and white, with a pretty stained glass-style trim in gold and every color in the rainbow.
The next day was the usual dreaded pack-out day. Everything went rather smoothly though, and we got home at a more than reasonable time, not bothering to put anything away, since we still have one event left. Blackthorne Revel comes in one week's time, and I'll be sure to tell you how it goes (HOPEFULLY not a week after it's over).
And now for the Great Misadventure:
Did you know that when you get a second degree burn, and the blisters pop, if you cover that burn with an air-tight burn dressing, that the lymph and plasma coagulate into something that looks like Jell-O? Neither did I. Interestingly enough I got a 2-inch wide by 8-inch long second degree burn Thursday night before the event-- NOT practicing or performing with fire. In fact I was not practicing or performing with ANYTHING. See here's the lowdown: Sithneibh needed pants to go with her stage garb. She came over to get them fitted and finalized. She brought with her her stepdaughter and Pixie, who didn't feel like climbing the stairs due to recent knee surgery. The two girls stayed in the car while Sithneibh came up for fitting. They got impatient, and started getting loud and boisterous. After a while I went out to the balcony to tell them to quiet down, and in order to see them over the balcony I put one hand on the railing... adn rested the other forearm on the lid of the (very hot) gas barbecue. Okay, now everyone point and laugh...
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masterfrederick's journal
Xnumber1 responded about 14 hours ago:
I realise you have probably done all kinds of presentations of fire play at sca conventions, thats cute and all, but I have never heard of You before, but I do know plenty of people who are master so and so and talk alot of shit about other people. I dont recall ever seeing your name anywhere at a convention. as far as my bio goes it is currently listed ont he websites for shibaricon, kinky kollege and kinkfest, its pretty easy to find information on me.
and as far as me getting defensive, I would have never had to get defensive over someone that is a friend and a skilled presenter if you hadn't acted like such a douchebag and made your comments, which are not usefull and not invited, and as far as I am concerned hold no ground because you obviously don't know what you are talking about
Ok, now I'll let my response do the talking here, because it says it well enough:
And by the by... When you post someone's bio, then step to their defense, what do you expect me to assume? Note that at no point do I mention that I think you are XXXXXX XXX. I asked if you wrote it or got it from another source, didn't I? I left you the benefit of the doubt. Or did you not notice? I said I thought his bio sounded pretentious. Because it DOES. It's full of endorsements and credentials from such and such organizations, and a whole bunch of romanticized BS, but no REAL information. You know, the kind of thing someone (who already has what he teaches in common) wants to know before blindly signing on to a class full of shit I already know?
As it turns out, Xnumber1 is the owner of a "prominent" bondage "Dungeon." And as the whole thing progresses, he goes so far as to BAN me from ever going... Not that I ever really had the desire to. I was going to go there, but only because some of my contacts REALLY wanted me to go. My feelings on the matter: A BDSM club is really the Scene equivalent of a Starbucks. And I can get coffee at home...
The rest is more of the same, until it gets to this post:
Xnumber1 responded about 8 hours ago:
yes You are right alot of people play nice to my face, and then go talk shit behind my back.....just like they seem to do to you. I have received many private messages from peple you think are friends telling me what a douchebag you are....
You obviously think you are hot shit, and I hear you were going to try and come to this class so you could cockblock it. Of course we have a no douchebag policy, so You won't be able to attend.
I think instead of talking shit about other people you should take a look in the mirror.........better yet take a look in your picture folder, because your bondage work is crap my friend.....why don't you go off somewhere and spend a few years working on your bondage before you start talking shit about other peoples skill in bdsm.
just a hint though, you might want to stop buying silk cord from the craft store. Thats a free piece of advice from me to You.
"I think instead of talking shit about other people you should take a look in the mirror.........better yet take a look in your picture folder, because your bondage work is crap my friend.....why don't you go off somewhere and spend a few years working on your bondage before you start talking shit about other peoples skill in bdsm.Ok then... Let's see. At no point have I or will I say I think XXXXXX XXX doesn't know his game, and might I ask where someone got that I would try to "Cockblock" his class? I mean, holy shit... How would one even go about doing that? I am sure the club is going to get a big draw from this guy being there. One man against a mob? Yeah, them numbers make sense. That and I am not one to blindly attack someone's professional reputation. You have to have DONE something before I take things to that level. Hell, I had a bloody feud with another performer some two years ago, and I didn't pull that shit. If I linked the whole thread, you'd see that this guy is struggling with the fact that no matter how hard he tries, he doesn't matter to me. It's so important for him to matter to me... And all I can ask is, "why?"
And then it gets REALLY funny:
just a hint though, you might want to stop buying silk cord from the craft store. Thats a free piece of advice from me to You."
Now, I did mention my profile is linked, right? Well, since not everyone will be able to read it, allow me to highlight the following:
"I do not claim to know everything there is to know about BDSM (as no one should) but I can tell you without ego that there is little if anything left for me to learn about fireplay."
I don't pretend my ropework is all that good. In fact, I bluntly tell people I consider myself a novice at it. And I could bother to point out that it's not the rope but rather the intent with which it's used that matters, and that not all of it is "silk", but rather the thin stuff is Kevlar drum cord, with a test of 900 pounds... But that's not the point. The point is that this is the classic Dickwagger's last act of desperation. He's run out of ways he can fuck with me regarding the actual topic at hand, and resorts to attacking my character from a completely irrelevant angle.
And all the while, he's danced around the main thrust of my initial statement: The bio posted DOES sound pretentious, nothing more than over-indulgent self-love. And all the Dickwagging in the world is not going to make any difference in how I read it. When I consider someone to teach me anything, fuck the credentials. I want to hear what they KNOW. I want to know that this person is not going to be showing me shit I already know. I want to know that I don't already surpass him and could save time and money by not bothering. There is no content to the initial article. There is only fluff, pomp, and pretentiousness. He may know his game like no other, but there's nothing in his bio that would tell me that.
In closing, a few pictures, worth more than their share of a thousand words: