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The Young Man and the Wizard: A True and Faithful Account


Mallette

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The young man followed the wizard into his laboratory.  Using various means, the wizard had prepared the young man carefully.  The young man had listened attentively and trustingly as the wizard explained his theories of how to transform electrum into waves that could reduce the most resistive person into a slave dependent constantly requiring more.  Some very non-threatening or unnerving demonstrations had been used, but nothing to inspire any suspicion about what was to come.  He’d been shut inside a room for a few moments and primordial fears of isolation and self-awareness had begun to grow, but the wizard had opened the vault door to the light before these really became alarming.  In fact, he’d been gentle, disarming, and quite humorous in fact. 

The day had begun when the young man’s priest of the auld religion had offered to introduce him to the wizard.  The young man had often served this priest at the weekly rites and trusted him.  The priest had told him of this might wizard and his great works, and the stories were mesmerizing.  When the priest told the young man that he was a devotee and confidant of the wizard and could get him an audience, he gladly accepted.

The wizard had a fearsome but also disarming visage.  However, the eyes pierced and sparkled as if powerful reactions were going on just behind them.  However, while a mystery, the eyes only seem to command attention in a non-threatening way.  The young man found out later this had been thoroughly rehearsed and practiced successfully on thousands of innocents. 

Finally, the wizard bade the young man sit in a lone chair curiously placed in the midst of the laboratory.  Without a further word, the wizard stepped to a large console and began adjusting nobs.  Moving to other equipment nearby that clearly showed the craft of the ancients, he made a few adjustments there.  Then, he activated the system. 

The first assault on the young man instantly fixated him and rendered him both unable and uninterested in resisting.  While there was something of sadness in the waves that enveloped him, there was also a promise of a joy and satisfaction to come.  The waves came in 4 distinct segments, and each took the young man on a journey of love, joy, peace, sadness, self-exploration, and expansion of various centers of the mind. 

But the final assault was transformative.  The moment it started he knew he’d never be the same but could do nothing but sit, transfixed.  Over the next few minutes it seemed to almost toy with him like a woman, moving him so very, very close to a mental climax of some sort then suddenly backing off and coming at him again from another angle.  However, eventually the end came.  It came in the form of a mighty descending C major scale, but not the same old C major scale the young man had played and heard so many times.  And certainly not the most natural and non-threatening C major scale so many engaging and harmless tunes were written in.

This one started as though the young man were hearing the voice of God from on high.  Transfixed, he listened as this omnipotent and irresistible voice descended towards him one massive step at a time arriving finally at the fundamental C0 that few had heard before and represented the limit of human ability to perceive.  Then, it was over. 8 notes, and they died away what remained were the 8 points the wizard had explained to him patiently during the day which had interested him, but now became his gateway to the world of sonic magic. 

In his stupor, he asked the wizard how much power he’d been subjected to and the wizard, glancing over at his instruments said “Oh, about 5 watts.” 
 

Well, thought the young man, "I suppose no harm was done" and went on his way imprinted as forever a disciple of the great wizard of Hope. 

Nearly 50 years later, still in in the service of the wizard, the same man labored to preserve the works of his master.  Wonderful things he felt was his duty to ensure remained for the future.  Then he read on a box in the master’s hand:

 Saint-Saens Organ Symphony.  Copied from the tape sent me by my ‘slightly dishonest friend.’  This dub made 700823”

And it all came rushing back.  The careful preparation and reduction of any resistance to the wizard followed by this “tape” that had been made by the wizard just before my arrival.  And now, right here in my hands. 

Before you dismiss my story as an old man’s fantasy examine your own past.  For many of you have likely at some point been subject to this transformative magic spell by one of the wizard’s secretive disciples.  Think on it, and tell your story if you dare.    

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I too fell under the great Wizard of Hope's spell. I was not seeking his magic, indeed I'd never even heard his name. I had ventured into, what I now know was a place of true magic and wonder. At the time I thought it a harmless lark and diversion, a simple shop, filled with bright and shiny baubles of whose form an function I was passing aware.  I was greeted warmly and questioned by an acolyte though neither robed nor cowled, I now see him for what he was. A minion of the Great Wizard. My answers to his questions must have proven satisfactory, as I and my companions were then led into the inner sanctum. A place of calm and solitude as I'd rarely seen. The acolyte bade us sit. He approached an altar, knelt before it and performed his simple rites. We were soon, shown magic, but magic that even then, my simple mind was able to grasp. I was soon sent into the night to retrieve an offering of my own choosing. Upon my return the offering must have been deemed worthy, as it was accepted. The Acolyte moved to another part of the altar, which was mute silver toned, and inscribed with a familiar rune that I'd known since childhood but it was then upon a device of transportation magic. Once again he performed his rituals and placed my offering into the altar.  Again we were bade to sit. The acolyte gestured to large wooden boxes, that I'd seen upon entering the sanctuary. Though I knew their purpose, their design was unlike any other that I had seen before. He then spoke the name of the Great Wizard of Hope and the name of a place, long associated with glorious music. In the moments that followed, I heard the sound of true magic, the Great Wizard had filled these boxes with nothing short of angels and the sounds of the dawn of the universe. While that night, I became a true believer. I was still deemed less than worthy. I wandered off dazed, yet forever transformed. I preached the Master's name to any that would listen, even converted a few.  Over the years I received some of the Great Wizards offerings and was blessed and happy for them. I have even addressed the actual builder of one pair of these objects. One who was at the holy place while the Wizard was on the earth. Recently, I came upon a fellow believer who had managed to achieve and enjoy the boxes that had first led me down this path so many years ago. It had come time for him to pass the boxes on to another. Coin was exchanged and cartage arranged. These creations of the Great Wizard of Hope now adorn the altar in my own sanctuary. Blessed be the Wizard, blessed be the legend, blessed be the sound. 

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I've seen their glassy eyed looks too many times. The acolytes, the proselytizers, the peddlers of nirvana, forgiveness, ecstasy and a bouncy good beat.  They've  cajoled, bribed, offered inducements, promises, filthy lucre and pressed me to surrender to the delights of unchecked sex.  The sirens of the soul, out to cast me on a storm tossed shore of decadence, and failing that, let me   drown in my own irony.

 

All religions hold out the promise of salvation, while carrying,  barely concealed behind their backs, ready to drop on your head at a moment's notice, the hammer of righteousness.

 

But I'm a 20th Century Man.  Logic, intelligence, and facts rule my world, define my being.  The application of applied reason the temple I worship in.

 

So preach and prattle, threaten and beseech, in the end I reject your call to worship at the House of Bose.  I'm sticking with Klipsch.

 

That is what everybody was talking about wasn't it?

 

 

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By the way great stories Dave and M_Klipsch.  There's some talent on this forum,

 

Dave, I think we should collaborate on a story.  I've been doing some research for an expose on Paul Klipsch being the illegitimate child of Nicholas Tesla.

 

In 1904, the year Paul was born Mr. Tesla was a vigorous 48 years old. So I've got that part covered.  Now the mother.

 

"Aha!"  I say. Has to be someone musically inclined, probably a blues singer.  I've concluded that the mother has to be Ma Raimey.  She was either 18 or 22 at the time, and was married, significantly in, you guessed it, 1904 to a Will Raimey.  A classic coverup.

 

Coincidence you say.  I think not.

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I've been working on that for years, Marty.  But the world isn't ready.  BTW, Tesla's broadcast power system was also designed to carry music flat from DC to light.  He foresaw the internet, but didn't have time to invent the computer.  Oddly, it appears the K'horn doesn't owe as much to Tesla as does some of PWK's lesser known inventions, but I have personally seen evidence in the secret Klipsch archives that are guarded by the most loyal Custodian of the 6, the fearsome Hunter, that PWK may have provided Armstrong with just enough Tesla for him to "invent" FM.   

 

Dave

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Looking back on my Klipsch history, I've realized I most enjoy the speakers made by Roy...I guess that makes Roy my wizard. I have a huge appreciation for PWK and think he's one of the more brilliant engineers of all time, but Roy's stuff sounds better. I really wish he'd pull off the chains and go to town with his magic.

 

Telsa on the other hand doesn't deserve to be in their category. The guy was imaginative, but wrong about soooo many things. He also didn't understand the inner workings of what he's known for either, and I think that's a big differentiator when comparing to guys like PWK, Einstein, Newton, Faraday, Curie, etc...

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11 hours ago, DrWho said:

I guess that makes Roy my wizard. I have a huge appreciation for PWK and think he's one of the more brilliant engineers of all time, but Roy's stuff sounds better.

There is a good reason for that, and a reason John Eargle was able to co-create our theater sound system.  For some of us, Roy's stuff doesn't sound "like" PWK's, it sounds like PWK. 

Dave

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I should add that we true believers in PWK are NOT saying that his Heritage designs are inherently improvable, or that the 8 Cardinal Points represent the only acceptable standard.  When PWK started, there was no real rubrics for speaker design, and other than sales figures, no way to judge by the market best practices.  PWK created a universal baseline and stuck with it for over 20 years as he learned the market for accurate loudspeakers.  As he added new designs, each violated one of the 8 Cardinal Points.  The K'horn exemplified the lightest, smallest, most accurate design and exemplified the 8 Cardinal Points to the extreme he deemed possible.  Granted, the range he defined was arbitrary...but SOME rubric had to applied or you were stuck with DC to light as the "ideal."  He's clearly explained his logic in choosing C1 as being "quality defined as fitness for intended use" target.

Since Heritage, succeeding designs have continued to reference his seminal ideals while violating one or more of the 8 Cardinal Points.  Does that suggest flaws in them?  I say "NO," and that PWK would approve most all of them as reflections of "market lessons learned."  There are those for whom cost, weight, or appearance makes no difference.  There are those who want a great experience, but at the lowest possible cost.  There are those who listen to little or nothing that requires response to C1.  And etcetera.  Klipsch has continued to grow and expand because they study the market for what it wants, then designs as close to PWK as they can to meet the customers budget and taste. 

IMHO, the best possible approach.

 

Dave 

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