The difficult part about writing this project is in maintaining that balance between fear and loathing, madness and exuberance that gives anything near a reasonable descriptor of the external processes and internal state that defines my convention experience. There is a lot to write about- a lot of small oddities and large weirdness that seem to have defined this year’s experience more so than others.
But to write about it? To give it proper justice? Odd that it would prove to be such an onerous undertaking. But nothing I’ve written thus far has properly captured the Moment. Nothing in my previous drafts have scratched at its surface.
But maybe it’ll be a bit different now. It’s nearly four thirty in the morning, Sunday, as I write this, and I don’t plan to edit a word. I’m buzzed off just the right amount and right ratio of alcohol and caffeine to maintain that edge- that fine blade between inhibition and utter lack of control. Tonight, more than last night at least, I can write something worth reading.
So how has my convention been? Frantic. It was a good idea to show up to that forum gathering. Hanging around with Nick Zebra and assorted companies has been an interesting experience, if slightly outside my usual comfort zone. Frankly, that’s no issue in of itself- comfort zones are to be pushed, and pushed often. Off-color stories and general low-grade mischief is an excellent way to begin a convention, hands down.
Fun was had, as fun was sought. And that is really half the key- to seek it out. To seek out company, likeminded or not. And…
…
…and “Ride on Shooting Star” is playing on a heavily distorted Strat fifteen feet from me. An acoustic guitar is serenading a couple of convention-goers even closer. It’s nearly five in the morning, and whole crowds are still up, sharing stories, sharing jokes, enjoying each other’s company. Hentai is playing a few rooms over. Above me, hundreds of rooms are jammed to peak capacity, filled with sleeping dreamers. In a few hour’s time, these halls will yet again be congested, yet again a cacophony, a din of voices and exclamations and ten thousand discordant footsteps.
Even when we’re against each other, we’re for each other. The Cosplay Masquerade was… an odd experience, to put it mildly. To be more blunt, however, I’ll have to say that it was, in all, a horrid waste of time, with a few major exceptions. As discussed between myself and a number of friends, as much synergy the advent of the digitally socialized generation has brought about, it had come at the cost of some creativity. At last count, we had established six separate occurrences of the annoyingly popular “Hare Hare Yukai” dance, three “Caramel Dansen,” two cases of “Motteke Sailor Fuku,” and two cases of “You’ve Just Lost The Game.”
Was I disappointed to find that geek skits have, according to third-hand accounts, gone downhill since its early years? Yes, very much. On the other hand, only geeks- specifically, only geeks with Nintendo DSes and Pictochat- would’ve turned it into a hundred-way free-for-all MST3k experience. Much jeering, a little cheering, plenty of memes and even a little free porn from an unnamed and talented sketch artist with a proper appreciation of the female figure.
I think I’m starting to get a fix on the original purpose of this project. Never underestimate a strong communal spirit. When was the last civilian-level football convention? Or golf? Anime conventions are very much one very large, very inclusive party- and it is that inclusiveness that makes them succeed as well as they tend to do.
We feel that we belong here, I think. This isn’t business- there are no goals. This is all pleasure for us. To do what we want, when we want it. And that’s something that extends beyond geekhood, but into the human identity itself.
Sunday now. Early Sunday. And I’ve yet to scratch the surface.
