# of divers

Tuesday, October 30, 2012

For unto the aliens, ninjas, and cowboys, a fire breathing babe was born

I invite you to please read the following in your finest Spaghetti western voice

The West is alive and well,
even today.

 And while living beneath the open blue sky can certainly have its hardships for us here down on the Western frontier, we've gots us a mighty fine troop of fellow comrades on this here fire-spinning ranch.

We've the kind of team that work and sweat together by the light of day, and feign sleep by night to ensure a smashing-good performance for the good showgoers and onlookers.

Together in cahoots, we charmed up a twisty-tale of adventure, mystery, love, and some good old slapstick funnies. All to ensure an epic storyline for the rousing crowds that we gave a lick and a promise to this year.

Then we took that faithful journey, the kind of journey where you don't exactly know if everyone will make it home in one piece. 

Yes, that sojourn was made way back in August, all the long while to the Burning Man Festival for we had some big nuts to crack.

Yessir, my fellow brothers and sisters set forth to burn the breeze and deliver one helluva fine show to those nice citizens of Black Rock City, the namesake for the fleeting city admist the normally desolate region.

We've a fine story to tell.

A tale of plot and characters like rowdy, ruthless, goodfernuthin' cowboys about as crooked as a Virginia fence, playing both sides of the law for riches and a fist full of dollars.

A fable of fearless ninjas hard pushed enough to let nuthin' come between their undeniable love,

and a memoir of hell-fired, noble aliens in a relentless and untamed search for justice by good rights.

And so the story goes, that late one Saturday eve just before the sun slanted down in the West, us ash-hoppers gathered to show those nice folks how a fire-breathing lovechild, born out of true, unrestricted love, and free from hate, was brought unto this here world.

Yes folks, once upon a time, when the air was thick with mesquite and dust storms, on a night that can only be wrapped up in one which-i-ma-call-it... declarative sentence.


Many thanks to my fine as cream gravy, fellow teammates and conclave staff, and 'specially to our fearless leader, the "Jenneral" for making sure that no one ever hung up their fiddle, and fer getting us to the flinders of that there playa.
 Ladies and gents, courtesy of Kp Wedman at Black Rock City, Nevada, I give you your 2012 San Diego Fire Conclave performance.

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