Dragoncon 2013- A List Of Tenuously Connected ThoughtsThis is going to be rambly, because it is seven PM the day that Dragoncon ended. I have had 3 actual meals in the past 96 hours, over 50 of which were spent in various actual factual convention related activities and well under 20 of which were spent sleeping- at some point, reason fades and sanity flees, but that's okay since Dragoncon is not the place where I go for rationality. Apologies to the Skeptics track. It may also veer towards the squishily personal, in which case I apologize to you too.
I have, as the saying goes, 'nothin' but love' for Dragoncon right now. It's... a homecoming, really. I mentioned on a blog post that my first Dragoncon in 2001 is what more than any other single thing turned me into a nerd; my last DCon came somewhere not long after graduating college and the dual ending gave much more finality to a change in periods of my life than it may have warranted. And now at last, at long last, only by accident and unwillingly but at last- I came home. This is going to sound terribly silly- from the moment I deplaned at Hartsfield International and stepped into the MARTA station, I felt as though the weight of near a decade's memories and nostalgia were on my shoulders. Stop by stop I went through the city, memories rousing with each station. Someone stepped on the train, heading for the convention, and we had a brief conversation; I stepped off to get my badge, and three hours later had it and a hotel room far from the convention. On Friday I stepped into the Hyatt bright and early; it was a beautiful day, I saw stormtroopers, and all my worries vanished. I was where I needed to be, though I didn't know I needed to be there until I came.
There can be a feeling of wistfulness about a convention like this. Lots of people have reason; the volunteers are missing things they want to do to help other people do them (this should never be forgotten; each volunteer (I was, once, and only once) gives up 25 hours over 4 days for sparse perks and plentiful abuse. Even when a volunteer is being a dick, I love them despite that.), many guests are reliving the glory days, many attendees are as well. The guests get money; the attendees get nostalgia. It can get to be an uncomfortable relationship at the core of any convention with those aspects that look back, but isn't an unhealthy one at heart; it's wistfulness once more. And as the convention draws to its sleepy close on Monday, everyone is wistful because the dream is going back to sleep and reality is coming again. On Sunday night at midnight I sat in the Hilton and watched the last few Masquerade contestants and those costumed people without the confidence (or arrogance!) to compete file by, fatigued smiles on their faces. When you understand the feelings in that scene on the part both of bystanders and guests, you understand how people like me cope with conventions.
Early on on Friday night, I saw a young man in a piranha plant costume, and he was manifestly confused and overwhelmed. Sunday morning, I saw a guy with a Mario question block on a fishing pole; when people punched it lightly, he threw a fake coin at their feet. As Cosby might say, I told you that story so I could tell you this one- while I was peoplewatching in the Hilton, as the convention ground on towards its final day, those two people ran into each other. They looked at each other- I heard no words, nor saw lips moving- and they began to work together. People had to avoid the immobile piranha plant costume to hit the block to get a thoroughly useless coin. Why would they need to talk? Both had played the same games, had thought the same thoughts at some point. Now they were at Dragoncon, and they both understood instinctively how the two of them should interact with each other. Is that a beautiful thing? I don't know. It's a fandom thing though, and I'll call it beauty until a better word comes.
What else can I say about costumes? There is a paradox that some never recognize about these conventions that it took me until after I stopped attending and grew up a little to fully accept. A convention is a place where you can, though certainly don't need to, be Yourself. Yourself without all the masks, the faces you build to meet the faces that you meet, the shields to hide behind. It's not, God knows, that convention attendees are better, or smarter, or wiser or more accepting. If I had to put it in words, I'd say it's more that everyone there is there for a specific reason that binds them together, some pursuit of geekery (Or as one panelist redefined that word, unrestrained intellectual curiosity) that simply isn't possible in day to day life. It's the people who look normal though, who dress as they would every day- the people like me, ever since 2002- that are most in costume, and the people in the most outrageous costumes that reveal the most about themselves (and the most flesh sometimes) and open themselves up. The people who choose to look different are the ones who are opening themselves up the most; those who make no changes are the ones who keep themselves the furthest away. The push this year in rules was 'costuming is not consent'- that is, you cannot assume any willingness from someone to do anything, even getting their picture taken, just because they are in costume. I had to stifle the urge to shriek in joy that finally the powers that be Got It. I wish like hell they had a decade ago.
Somewhat less lyrical thoughts probably more close to what people thought they would get in a post like thisYou know what? Let's start with Steampunk. Look, I love alternate history, it's one of my bigger read-for-pleasure hobbies. When I saw there was an entire Alternate History track, I was giddy. And then I realized the entire fucking thing was Steampunk, with arguably one panel dealing with non-anything-punk alternate history. What the hell is going on here? Did one guy who just really loves steampunk get to be director of the track and then packed it with the stuff he likes? I mean, that's not a bad thing, but if we're gonna do that rename the track the Steampunk Track- I have nothing against steampunk per se despite an earlier comment, really- and let people like me have a session or two on alternate history in a literature track, maybe. Also, I think almost everything steampunk looks silly, but I recognize that it is simply not For Me (tm). No worries.
FURSUITERS! My god, my god, my god. To wear a full body fursuit for any amount of time in Atlanta in summer requires an amount of lunacy and dedication I find stunning. You people have enough of both to be interesting. I will never, ever say a word against anyone who does that, or wears a spandex body suit in the parade, or such. Fursuiters, though, I love you guys, I want to have your babies, et cetera et cetera, but... and I've fought this war before... please, if you put that much effort into a suit, could you have a tail that isn't a stiff club sticking awkwardly out of your lumbar region? Make it sway. This is what you call a personal plea, and goes for all tail-wearers. Swish swish, you guys? Please? ...also? If you're going to enter the masquerade (costume competition), don't just show up in a fursuit. Do something that separates you. I see you, daedric-armor-wearing werewolf. It's good I was in the overflow session, because I might have tried to rush the stage and do something immoral with or to you. No, not really.
To the people in the masquerade overflow session who dreamed themselves to be mystery science theater 3000 cast members: You aren't. Every contestant, even the Lupin III whose plans went way, way awry, has more courage for getting up there than your sorry ass, and booing them or whistling the imperial theme to try to summon the stormtrooper to get them offstage is classless as hell.
Dear Everyone: I think it's legal to stab someone who stops in the middle of a walkway with no warning to take a picture or have a picture taken. I dunno. But I do know I'd have alibis if I did it.
Dear Smartphone Users: C'mon. If you're in line for an hour, throw everyone a bone and socialize with the people near you instead of playing fruit ninja.
The people who run DragonconTV are psychotic, and also national treasures.
The people who run the consuite- the same comments apply as for the people who run DragonconTV. I got a salad! A fucking salad, at dragoncon, in the hospitality suite! Do you have any idea how happy I was?!
All people asking questions of celebrities... guys, this is my cri de coeur; don't ask shitty questions. If you're asking a Game of THrones actor who just said he only read the parts of the script he was in, don't ask him about parts of the script he wasn't in. Don't ask questions they can't answer (I see you, Game of Thrones spoiler seekers) or questions they won't answer (spoiler alert: literally every actor is going to say that everything is lovey dovey on set and all the actors are friends. This is not the case, because they are people, and people will be people. They won't say because that's not your business, so don't ask) or requests for personal attention (get in the walk of fame like everyone else and don't keep someone else from asking something interesting). I endorse giving track volunteers tasers and authority to prod people who ask shitty questions. I am a harsh soul.
Holy shit, the convention literally doubled in population while I was away. Still similar crowd density though, thanks to the new hotels.
I didn't set foot in the Westin. No regrets, not now not ever. Same to you, Sheraton. All the skybridge walking? ALL THE SKYBRIDGE WALKING.
Humidity and heat together hurts more than I remember it hurting. Conversely, people reacting to a light shower as though it were the end times and clustering together under an umbrella appearing as though they thought the rain was actually lava made me laugh to myself as I wandered through the rain with a San Franciscan's insouciance.
I left the convention on Saturday at the same time 70,000 college football fans left their game at the Georgia Dome. I am convinced that 90% of the latter were riding northbound MARTA trains past me down in the bowels of muggy, wretched Peachtree Center, and neither god nor science can sway this belief. That trip was unpleasant.
To everyone else who was going to be in the cancelled team trivia competition: YOU BEST BE GLAD IT GOT CANCELED, BECAUSE HULKAMANIA WAS ABOUT TO BE UNLEASHED ON YOOOOOOOU but seriously I was all hyped to wreck faces and then it didn't happen
consoled myself by beasting another less fun trivia panel though.
I still hate every band at Dragoncon, and will never stop.
There is nothing sadder than a great panel almost nobody attended in a convention where less interesting panels had lines an hour in advance.
In all, I am going to have one HELL of a painful decision about whether I go to Dragoncon or PAX next year. PAX won't open and then very quickly close registration until April or so, by which point most of the panels are set, volunteer picking well underway, and no hotel to be had within walking distance for love or money. If I'm gonna go to dragoncon, I have to decide that before taking a shot on PAX. So which will it be? PAX has
gutted the gaming content of Dragoncon, which hurts, but PAX doesn't have anything else. I am legitimately torn, and need to badly do some soul searching over the next month.
One thing, though; compared to when I left there were far, far, FAR more women, and far less crudity and rudeness. It was almost a different convention, and I started to feel guilty and selfconscious about my deliberately self-abnegating camouflage designed to keep me from being noticed. If I go to DCon next year, I probably won't wear a costume. I probably won't wear beige again either.