magic

January 20, 2025

Nerds Be Nerding

I have no idea how to write this blog without it sounding as though I am working for Disney or Ravensburger. It just can’t be done. Just know, I have not been paid to write this. I mean… who would even pay for my shitty opinion anyway? Especially a family focused entertainment conglomerate? I curse like a sailor and I’m one of those sad millennials who “won’t grow up.”

That said…

In this rotting hellscape that’s hellbent on destroying any peace and security I have, in search of solace I have Lorcana. It is this Disney trading card game (TCG) that is similar to Magic the Gathering (with hints of Pokemon undertones) but with a Disney/family fun spin. Both games, by the way I am thoroughly obsessed with and have been since I was in my pre-teens.

Already I am a huge Disney Gay. The BF and I (pre-covid) literally went a weekend per month using our annual passes. Once they did away with those (and after Charlie passed) we got ourselves Magic Keys. So, I am invested in the Cult of Disney.

Once they announced this TCG in 2022 I became a D23 member so that I could hop on down to the convention to buy the promo cards, ignorant to the reality that tickets to the event need to be purchased in advance. So, I never got the promos. Even buying them on the secondary market will, WILL bankrupt you, considering that the first free promo they just handed out to anyone and everyone is going for $950. Charlie even looked into buying me the set from ebay for christmas but when he saw the prices… He decided against it.

So, I sat impatiently for a year, eagerly awaiting this game. I read or watched whatever I could find about them just to satiate my nerdy appetite. I needed them. At one point I saved a copy of every “sneak peek” into my phone gallery so I could just look at them while I waited. The colorful cards and art alone brought me this immense joy that I still cannot explain.

After release, I became bound and determined to actually compete in organized play. I wanted to be apart of something from the beginning and help support it to success. Although, Disney really doesn’t need me. It’s name alone will just print cash. It’s wild. I suggest going to a D23 convention once and you will see.

Yesterday, after having my ass handed to me at the Set Championship, a couple things occurred to me. One, I am a poor sport and my bad attitude has bothered some people in league. I don’t know if it has pushed others to no longer participate or not, but my mind has made itself up that it has. Two, I’m a terrible player. That or I just build shitty decks. Either way, I’m crap against these seasoned players.

So, how do I get better against them if I’m a cunt who, when I lose, look/act like an infant? I have to eat shit and hope that my bad attitude hasn’t ruined any good will from these guys. They are clearly the best and I’m nowhere near their level of skill.

Last night I had this mental crisis where I genuinely wanted to take my life. It was this coupled with a lot of other unrelated issues, however it was in the vein of me “being a burden” and “I’d be better off dead.”

Since I promised my husband that I would keep living… I talked myself off of my metaphorical ledge and said the only way to fix this is to be humble and ask for help. Recognize my flaws and faults, apologize and hope someone is gracious enough to train me.

Luckily, the hot viking daddy agreed to help me. Proving, again, he is truly one of the sweetest dudes around. (Especially when you see how he is raising his son.)

In the face of all this terrible uncertainty, I will hold tight to the things that bring me joy and try to make myself a better person. Today is always a good time to start. Hopefully, I can make myself a competitive player at the same time. Or, at the very least, a gracious loser.

November 1, 2022

The Soundtrack of My Life – 37 – Viva Las Vegas

My dad was quite the Elvis fan. He loved him. One time we took a trip to Memphis so that my pop could go see Graceland. I had no point of reference at the time. I had heard his songs here and there but being only twelve at the time he wasn’t on my radar. During this trip I was more concerned with getting my hands on some beanie babies.

It was so odd to me that my dad only wanted to see his house. He could not have cared less about his cars or outfits. One would think, him being a super fan, he would have been chomping at the bit… but no.

Years later I would revisit Graceland with my mother-in-law who is also a big Elvis fan. She wanted to see everything. (Well, except for the cars. She could not have cared less about those.) Her main goal was to see his jewelry. Unfortunately all they had was maybe one belt buckle and a couple rings. “There has to be more!” she said.

Later that evening, after our tour of his humble abode, we watched the movie “Viva Las Vegas” in the Elvis movie theatre. And boy-howdy was that movie garbage. I have only seen two of his movies, Blue Hawaii and Viva Las Vegas and they are both giant pieces of misogynistic bull shit that feel almost like a cocaine-fueled dream than a movie. Out of the two, each had one song in each that I enjoyed. If you wanted a story or any kind of character growth… I’d look elsewhere.

The main reason I chose this song is because this previous Friday, the day this was supposed to be published, I was in Las Vegas with my boys for the Magic 30 convention. This was the final stop, before home, on our cross-country road trip. And this was the event I had been waiting anxiously for since started a month ago.

Magic the Gathering (if you don’t know) is a collectible/tradable card game that came out in 1993 (if you’re doing the math it shouldn’t be called Magic 30 but… whatevs). It’s a strategy card game where people purchase booster packs to get better cards to incorporate into the decks they use against their opponents. The idea is that you are a wizard with a “library” of spells and creatures to defeat an opposing wizard. There is more complexity to it than what I am describing, but if I were to delve into them this would be a much longer post. I for one like to produce “fun sized” posts to entertain the masses.

This was the first convention I had/have ever attended. I have wanted to do San Diego Comic-Con in the past but I am not quick on the purchase button for me to get a ticket. Plus I’ve never actually had the money to go to one before. This time I had the funds to buy all of my boys a ticket and entry into a few tournaments. Even competitive play is something I have never done, nor have I wanted to. Most of the attendees to such events loath a soap, water, and deodorant combo. There was none of that at this event, so maybe it’s just a local thing. Or maybe if they can afford a ticket to the event they also usually purchase the necessary self-care items.

When I first signed up I had also wanted to do a ton of events, but out of the corner of my eye I caught a disclaimer that events tend to run long. So from the 6 I had initially purchased I scaled it by half. And thank the universe I did. One of my events was over 5 hours long. I didn’t even get a chance to finish it, because I was in super bad mood and the dudes at my table said there was only 2 rounds, when the app CLEARLY said 3. But instead of trusting the people, y’know, facilitating the event I took listened to the word of a bunch of know-it-alls who deemed the “winning deck” of our “pod” was just some kid with a bunch of creatures instead of me, whom they all decided (collectively) to take out first because I was the biggest threat. So… fuck them. (I’m not bitter.)

Despite my failures in that single tournament (it was them and my own stupid inability to slow down and pay attention) I had an amazing time. I fully intend on attending another one in the future, should they hold one. And supposedly this is a yearly thing. Who knew?

After spending an insane amount of money on Magic cards… (see the photograph below) I am officially home. It’s weird to be back, but I couldn’t have lived like that for much longer. Hopping from one hotel to the next is exhausting, especially when you have a co-traveler who requires many different life-saving devices in tow.

I’m just glad we got to tick off some bucket-list items for my husband (Boston, Florida, and New Orleans.)

Our only regrets is not spending more time in Austin and in Boston. My husband opined, as we were leaving “Bean Town,” that he wished we had set aside an entire month for the city instead of just a week. He is a foody traveler. He wants to taste all of the best local places to eat. I’m a sightseeing/experience guy myself.

It started out with just this… which is still TOO MUCH…

and then morphed into….

One of the boxes of cards and 3 of those decks merged into that white card box. Those are 3 shirts in the pile at the bottom. And not pictured here is this SWEET jacket I got.

January 10, 2015

The Eye of God

I have to say… this is a bit risky of a short story.  I couldn’t help myself.  I want to be controversial but who doesn’t?  Supposedly it acquires you fame or infamy.  Either ay it draws readers.  So, shamelessly, my mind wouldn’t let this idea go.  Please know that I meant no harm. I just needed fictional characters for a “matchup.”

A Year of Writing Prompts by Brian A. Klems & Zachary Petit
January 9
Matchup!
“Write a scene featuring a cruise ship or a boat, a sudden change of weather, and the idiom “Fools rush in.””

The prophet Mohammed stood on the rickety dock that jutted out into the waters of the Sea of Galilee. His band of followers were busily preparing the boat to set sail to the other side. One called from the ship, beckoning the prophet forward onto the skiff. Using the gentlest of motions he stepped down and they immediately set sail.

Mohammed tried dearly not to show his uncertainty, he was the prophet from Allah, he could not show any sense of fear, but deep down he dreaded being on the open sea. The fear of being washed overboard weighed heavily in his mind and he prayed for safe passage.

Then the clouds rolled in. Those around him commented at the momentary shimmer jumping from cloud to cloud. “It’s going to be a bad one,” someone said. Mohammed did not know who had whispered, what he thought, were the final words of his life. He had to admit that none of them truly mattered to him. They were mere stepping stones in his journey to retrieve the stone of power that rested on the other side. It was known as the Eye of God and any mortal that held it would take on the powers of one not of this world.

If it were not that he feared another would retrieve the stone he would have walked around the sea or at least found some other transportation other than the sea.

If only I had the stone now, he thought, I would stop this storm before it had spread like a disease across the sky.

The waves began to grow. They lapped at the edges of the boat, lobbing spray of sea at the men. The man chosen as captain tried his best to steer the ship through the waters. Mohammed would have thrown him overboard I he didn’t need him. The man clutched to the side of the ship, trying to stabilize himself, while keeping his eyes pointed ever forward.

The winds picked up and ripped the prophets ‘Imama from his head, relinquishing the greasy, black locks beneath. It whipped at his face like angry tentacles, entangling itself in his thick beard.

The wave first rose like a mountain rising from sleep at the bow of the ship, blocking Mohammed’s view of the other side of the sea. Then with the strength of the earth it crashed over the ship and sent everyone swirling into the blackness.

He scrambled. Climbing his way through the water but he could not tell what was up or down. But soon he found himself slowly drifting ever upwards.

His head broke the thrashing surface of the water. He gasped and gulped down the salty air.

“Why have you done this,” Mohammed cried out.

His black eyes scoured the sea for any sign of his companions. He knew none of them by name and felt it ridiculous to call out for anyone. There was no room for weakness.

A wave rose and cresting over it was another, larger, boat, still surviving the rough waters. It dove down the other side of the wave. It rushed past Mohammed, spraying him with a miniscule wave compared to it’s brethren.

“Over here,” he called out.

Lightning cracked the black and he saw the silhouettes of twelve men, scrambling across the deck of the ship. There was incoherent shouting but he did not recognize any of the words against all the other noise around him.

The storm quickly subside in a cool breeze.

“Look” shouted someone on the boat.

Mohammed waved his arms above his head and shouted again, until he was submerged in the water.

A hand grasped on to his shoulder and pulled him from the water.

Mohammed looked into the face of a Hebrew man, bearded like himself, with long locks of flowing hair. He knew that face. It was the man who claimed to be the son of God.

“You,” Mohammed said.

He looked down and realized with the sense of falling, that this man was standing on the surface of the water.

“Did you-“

“Yes, cousin, I got the stone before you.” Jesus sneered. “Cause only fools don’t rush in.”

January 4, 2015

An Attempt at Irony

Todays prompt is going to be a hard one. That’s for fucking sure. Mainly it’s because I have no energy today. I am just absolutely 100% out of it. But, such is the weekend.

A Year of Writing Prompts by Brian A. Klems & Zachary Petit
January 3
A Cold Where you (Fill in the Blank) Instead of Sneeze
“You’ve developed a cold, only to discover that instead of sneezing, you (fill in the blank) every time you feel like you have to sneeze. This side effect proves to create a fairly entertaining scene at the office during your weekly budget meeting.”

Terry clutched the phone in his hands, listening to the ring on the other line. With any luck no one would answer and he could leave a message on the office answering machine. That was his best bet to avoid today altogether. No one at work would understand.

Although, the line clicked and Sheila answered the phone.

“Morgan, Pollock, and Masters, Magician Bounty Hunter.”

Terry pinched his nose.

“Sheila, It’s me, I’m not going to be able to come in today. I feel terrible.”

“Oh no, that’s not good! Well we will miss you at the financers meeting. The head from the state is coming in to talk to us about funding. I’m sure Lowell won’t mind. You get better.”

“Thank you,” Terry said from halfway down his throat.

The line clicked and went dead.

Relief flowed through his body and that’s when he could feel it surge. Terry craned back his head, his mouth gaping, and he let out the loudest sneeze, but with it came a puff of smoke and a young child appeared from within.

The young lad stepped from the thinning cloud and looked around Terry’s unkempt apartment. Panic was beginning to blossom in his face, as his lower lip trembled. There would only be a few moments before the boy exploded into tears. A crying child was the last thing his neighbors needed to hear. They knew he lived alone.

“Hey, buddy,” he said in a sickening sweet voice, “It’ll be okay.”

The young boy wrapped his arms around his stomach.

“Where am I?” He said stepping away from terry.

“It’s okay,” he said, “This is all a dream.”

The boy’s eyes grew wide.

“Really?” he said, “I don’t remember taking a nap. I was shopping with mommy.”

“Yeah, you fell asleep under some coats. She’ll find you in a second.”

The boy looked perplexed.

“How do you know that?”

“Cause this is a special dream.”

Preceded by a large gasp, terry sneezed again and the boy vanished from the room.

“Thank the gods,” he said.

The last few sneezes had become even more infrequent and produced the most horrible of momentary guests. At least the kid disappeared before he could cry. The one woman shrieked so much the nosey neighbor next door came poking around to make sure everything was “okay.” Terry wasn’t sure that he had bought that it was tv program he had been watching.

Now without the worry of work looming before him, terry rushed to the kitchen and began to concoct a potion to end this magical mishap. It wasn’t entirely obvious where he had gotten the calling cold but he had it never-the-less. He must have gotten it when he had been on assignment in Southron and they raided that sorcerer’s drug den. It had been absolutely unsanitary.

He was certain that had been where.

The ingredients came quick to his mind. This wasn’t the first time he’d have to brew one. He had gotten the same thing back in school. Luckily, his parents could excuse him and no one would ever learned he was a blossoming magician.

Pulling the sage from the cupboard he could feel another sneeze building. He tensed his face muscles and refused to let it out. Though try as he might it had a will of it’s own and he blew. This time he conjured a flock of parakeets that fluttered furiously around his apartment.

“I can deal with this,” he said.

He bustled around the kitchen pouring each item into his battered black cauldron. He stirred it the appropriate amount of times until it turned a beautiful lavender and he knew it was ready. He couldn’t ladle it fast enough into a copper mug.

Just as the rim touched his lips the phone began to ring. He looked over at the caller ID and it was the offce number. His blood went cold and he sneezed again, dispelling the birds back to wherever they had come from.

He set the steaming cup down and answered the phone, pinching his nose as he did it.

“Hello,” he moaned.

“Tare, look I know you’re sick but Sgt. Errol is coming and I know he will be absolutely pissed if you’re not here. He is insistent that he meets you. He wants to meet the man who took down the Black Ranfort warlock.”

Terry moaned again.

“Boss, I would love to but I can’t-“

“Terry, if you do you know we’ll get more money than we could ever need to take down these filthy magicians. Don’t you want to be the guy named the man who eradicated all things magical?”

Not really, he thought.

“I would, yes. But I can’t even get off the couch, Rick.”

“Look, if you come in I’ll give you the raise you’ve been hounding me for.”

Terry gulped. That raise had been his mission the past two years. It would give him enough money to move out of the tiny apartment he lived in, that he now noticed was covered in bird shirt and feathers.

“See you in a few.”

Before Terry could argue his boss ended the call.

For a brief moment panick gripped his chest, but then the saw the cup gleam out of the corner of his eye. He chugged it and waited, but within only a few moments he sneezed again, producing a pair of old men playing chess, table and all. But he didn’t have time to explain, he hurried around his apartment trying to get ready. Although he didn’t want to look too good. He put on a white shirt, top button undone, a striped tie as slap-dash as he could get it, and a brown coat. He put on his glasses and messed up his hair and then tried to wrestle it into something decent.

By the time he was dressed and ready to go he sneezed again and the men disappeared.

He hurried as quick as he could and got to the office without a single sneeze. That would mean the potion was working. He just needed to trust his skill.

He climbed the steps to the fourth floor office just o wear himself out and appear more sickly. This wasn’t his first rodeo. By the time he entered the office he was sweaty, red faced, and breathing heavily.

“Terry! You look awful.”

He could barely speak so instead waved and nodded.

“Go right on in.”

He wound his way around the cubicles to the conference room and entered. Everyone stood, especially Sgt. Errol.”

“Son,” he said, shaking his hand, “I really admire your moxy. If I was as sick as you I’d have told my boss to go fuck himself and not come in.”

Everyone laughed nervously.

“This is why I wanted to meet you. You are the best. I’ve been keeping an eye on you. I knew you were something special. It’s guys like you that will take down this magical menace and-“

The sneeze built in his chest, which prompted him to swallow air.

“You alright?”

Terry nodded as he cosed his eyes an concentrated.

“Course you are!” Sgt. Errol said, slapping him on the back.

Terry sneezed and in a puff of smoke appeared a man, bathing in a shower on top of the table.  The water slowly trickled away out of the shower head, as the man looked out of the clear curtain.