Raging Anew Against the Dying of the Light
The problem is there are just too many burdens for even ONE Wizard to handle on me own; and given my limited ability to get around physically, I am doing my level best to rest up and make a few decent attempts to survive. Still, what is the problem mine adopted metropolis seems to have of late with eccentrics like us? What did we ever do to hurt you? We're not necessarily mad, bad or even dangerous to know. You power-mad bastards are so used to having all the fun, you'd like to make us little guys suffer, is that it?
Luckily, we have our own ways of celebrating our own little eccentricities. They're called Renaissance Faires. As a charter-member of the Faire Community, I refuse to go down without a fight, if this is the behavior with which I'll have to contend for the forseeable future. My only hope, as usual, is that there'll be others who can stand up and fight, as Moondog fought of old, to defend our right to imagine. When Quite an Imagination: The Story of New York's Unofficial Wizard is finally completed and distributed, I hope, as best I can hope, that there'll be a way to tell our no-fun twit who dares call himself our Mayor "Pray, sirrah, stick it in thy ear!"
As ever, dearests, I wanna know what you think. Gimme an e-mail at either firstname.lastname@example.org or email@example.com.