I awake each morning a peasant amidst a bed of strips of ink soaked parchment and dismissed imagination. I slowly trudge the dreary halls of my dank and decrepit castle filled with piles and piles of wasted manuscript and strewn about keyboards and back issues of dreams. I don the armor of future hope as I contemplate the day that lies ahead of me. To intertwine my thoughts and insipid four color plans with my fellow travelers as we gather to take our dreams and lay the nay sayers to waste. For this is the season were we petty and frowned upon outcasts of society rise above to take our place amongst the Gods of the wicked and painters of the deep dark corners of the mind. We are the ones that do battle this day, we determine the outcome of future wars with Dragons of our creation and Heroes of our tongues. Our fingers change the course of history and timelines upon which you lie your head in peace upon at night. We say yay to the nightmares of elation where creatures and man may walk behind your eyelids, penetrating the manner of which you base your life upon. You inhale our words and breathe our name and sing the praises for those that cause you to smile and hold your head up high during this time of year. We are that which cause your life to have meaning, for your immaculate, plastic wrapped and cardboard backed golden tickets of commerce derive from our blistered and blood soaked hands are but mere shards of our soul and shrapnels of our fragile hearts. I sit amongst those that share my desire, to be that for which you lay hope upon, a Knight in which my ingenuity my weapon, my laptop my shield and my fellow creators my brothers in arms and the Con our round table. Come stand by my side, my friends, as we travel to that for which we ourselves have wished upon to land in the waters of Geekdom and kneel before our Lady of the Lake and she kisses our forehead and blesses our journey.
Welcome to Con Season.
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