Marcon 2009

Apparently “British SciFi” is synonymous with “steampunk”, because we saw more than a few of these guys strutting around the convention center taking their shit very seriously.



I actually got to see the dude on the left assembling his costume in the dealer room. Well, I saw him buying the goggles and gimp mask anyway, which really sets the tone for what he’s going for. I guess. I’m not entirely sure what look he was trying to attain, but I am entirely sure he’s perfected it. In any event, he seemed exceptionally excited to have his new fetish gear, so good for him. I spotted him a few more times lurking about here and there, making it a point to move as slowly as possible so everyone could get a good look. Although, in the midst of his hilariously regal stroll through the food court, it occured to me that his slow and methodical gait might have been due to the fact that his airways were wholly covered by leather. I think he may be this year’s favourite. Either him or this guy, I can’t decide.

I nearly bought those same goggles, but couldn’t justify the price tag. It is worth noting at this point that I myself am not assembling a collection of cosplay gear. I just find the notion of mounting a heads-up display in something like this almost too delightful to contemplate. That might still count as Shadowrun cosplay though, I don’t know. Whatever, I don’t LARP. I don’t LARP.

Speaking of blending computer dork with fantasy dork, I found a couple of treats in the art room:




I was positively giddy over these things, which I was not at all prepared for. The art room is for hate and mockery, as it is typically the haven for 1.) jewelry vendors that want to hawk their wares a higher price than they might command in the dealer room and 2.) furry artistes that will lecture you on the importance of tolerance when you call them out on their soft core bestiality watercolors. (For the record, I do tolerate your work, freaks. I have not set a single painting, sketch or member of your abominable “community” on fire. But I have no issue calling a thing what it is.) I feel the need to applaud the convention organizers for their decision to give them their own section this year. In the corner. Behind a series of tarps with “admittance requires ID” signs all over. To be fair, I don’t know for certain that’s what the tarps concealed – I couldn’t bring myself to check. It’s just that I didn’t see any magnificent horsecock anywhere in the room, so I could only assume.

Some additional highlights –
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Marcon 2008

Sometimes pirates steal your cargo. Sometimes pirates play unlicensed games. Sometimes they just stand around in bars being fierce bitches that think your shoes are cheap.

Marcon was this past weekend – I’m sure some of you noticed a jedi or two wandering around the North Market. It’s been days since the event, and I’m just now posting. I’m a lazy shite, I know.

Honestly, I wasn’t that moved to take too many pictures this year. Anything worth photographic evidence I have mostly already documented1. It seems like people put a lot of effort into one costume and wear it year after year. Not that I can say I blame them. I don’t know that I could look at myself in the mirror if I continued to sink hundreds of dollars and hours every year to lovingly recreate every permutation of the starfleet uniform.

In lieu of taking pictures, I suppose I could move on to ear tagging and tracking of migratory patterns. I dunno.

I hadn’t seen this guy before though



Normally furries can die in a fire, but this guy gets a pass for embracing the Tank Girl franchise. That would be my friend Alex high fiving the anthro-roo.

We played a couple of board games we hadn’t seen before, though we didn’t actually playtest any unreleased ones this year. There was one game in progress at a table near us that caught my attention. It involved hats. This fascinated me. Everyone was wearing hats. Somtimes they switched hats. I noted that one hat in particular seemed to be undesireable, as its new owner was mocked while reluctantly placing it on his head. I felt like an anthropologist peering into a new and altogether alien culture. With each new shift in this strange hat-based society, I reported back to my associates, who mostly seemed irritated that I wasn’t following the rules of our game. I couldn’t be concerned with that – there had apparently been a major power shift at the next table. One man was now wearing two hats. Two! I narrowed my eyes. While I knew neither the rules nor customs that allowed one to acquire an auxilliary hat, I sensed that the peaceful equality of free hat exchange had just been irrevocably sundered.

This was the same weekend my cousin Jenna came to visit. She was spending the night with me after paticipating in a friend’s wedding on Saturday. So of course I dragged her to the nerd-meet. Thankfully her late arrival spared her the worst of the cosplayers – they had wandered off to their respective clans and yiff piles, while the remainder of the day for us was spent playing games and drinking at the various room parties. If you really feel the urge to see pictures of nerds rolling dice, playing StarCraft and getting drunk, I have more pictures up in a gallery on myspace. It was either that or take the time to repair my site gallery.

1The exception to this would be the elusive gothapotamus I saw wandering the area near the convention center. I saw it as I was searching for a place to park, so I didn’t get a picture. Naturally I assumed it was heading to the convention, and that I would have my chance to capture the majestic creature on film later in the day. Sadly, it made no further appearance.

MarCon

I attended MarCon (sci-fi nerdfest convention for you normies) this weekend – and accumulated a gallery of assorted freakery. I would like to take this opportunity to mention that I have an exceptionally shitty camera. I open the lens and it takes about thirty seconds of “warming up” or whatever before I can take a picture. By that time, whatever example of sweet dork drag I wanted a picture of has already passed by, cape sweeping majestically in its wake. Most of the nerds spend a considerable amount of time on their costumes and are all too happy to strike a pose and hold it for as long as you need to get the picture. They probably spend hundreds of $$ on the getup and admiration from the rest of us is the only way they really justify the expense.

I don’t really want anyone posing for the shot though. Like any good photographer, I know it’s the candid shots that really capture the essence of life. Like these pictures of folks enjoying the food court:



I took these pictures with my phone btw, not my actual camera. Because of my camera I missed some of the best shots – I don’t know why, but I deeply mourn the loss of an opportunity to get a photo of a Nazgul hanging out in a parking lot having a smoke.

Anyway, I am pleased to have obtained photographic evidence of Satan getting his knob polished by one of his concubines


Satan Scores!

Judging by the audience, I’m going to go ahead and assume that this is part of some dark ceremony meant to praise their lord. Never one to judge based on religious beliefs, I merely documented the ritual in a photo-journalistic fashion and moved on.

After taking in the costume show & playing a couple games, we headed up to check out some of the parties. The convention center is adjacent to a couple of hotels, and some of the more affluent nerd coteries host parties that occupy entire floors. We could have partied with either the Highlanders or The Order of the Scorpion (Klingons). We instead chose to hang out on the Barfleet floor. I had hoped that the immortals and the klingons would be drinking on the same floor so I could watch kilted nerds get into a drunken brawl with some dude wearing a latex headpiece. No such luck.

Barfleet did not allow you to bring cameras on to their party floor – dude checking IDs saw one in my purse and wouldn’t let me in until I got rid of it. After we got in, it became apparent that the reason for this was that several of the rooms had various levels of clothing optional policies. One room had a stage set up where they were having a lap dance contest.

Hilariously, even though cameras were prohibited, I spotted at least ten people with camera phones. So, skanky chick at the bar showing your boobies for tips – you just might end up on the internets after all. Same goes for you freaky naked guy with duct tape covering your penis – I really hope you shaved first, cause that’s gonna be twelve kinds of hurt otherwise.

I’d also like to share an exchange I had with a guy who really liked the shirt I had on and wanted to show it to his, um, friend.

Dude: Oh hey, it’s you again – that is such a great shirt
Me: oh , yeah – thanks
Dude: Can you come over here a sec I’d like to show it to someone
Dude: *Motions to a girl in a group*
Dude: I’d like you to meet my submissive
Me: . . .uh . . .hi!
Dude: Isn’t that a great shirt
Sub: *reading my boobs* Oh, that’s great!

I just loved the very matter of fact way he introduced her. I do enjoy an open and accepting environment.

On a final note, I’d like to offer a safety tip: wizards dislike being caught unaware. They become nervous and may strike. Approach them with caution.