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Barely a week ago, I learned of this convention happening right here in NYC called Book Con. It's in Javits Convention Center, which is the largest con space in the city (where NYCC is held), so I knew it'd be a fairly large con. Still, programming-wise it looked like a smallish con...and strangely encompassed so many genres. None going terribly deeply. And I had a comp day at work to burn, so I took my Saturday midnight-8am shift off and took myself to Book Con, something like a date with myself.

I livetweeted the experience starting with my fretting about wardrobe choices at 2am, if anyone should be curious. I promise I got to more substantive stuff than talking about buses and selfies. If you get to the end and it's about Yuri on Ice, I messed up the threading and I continue here toward the end of the Rainbow Rowell panel. If in doubt, start with this tweet as I was leaving and work your way backwards (up).

This was a different experience for me, I will say. I went to three panels: Rainbow Rowell's, Janet Mock's, and Margaret Atwood. On some levels, it felt like a familiar con-going experience, because it was a fairly female-dominant space, albeit in Comic Con's physical footprint. I asked gentlespirit/221bnyc's Jen who I met there (randomly; not planned) and she agreed with me that it seemed like a 2:1 ratio for women to men. I wondered if the men felt that on some level--outnumbered or the tiniest bit insecure. Not because I wanted them to feel that way, but just out of curiosity. Does it become something they notice in public spaces they occupy? I just don't know the answer to that. But I know in the female experience, we share a lot of the same thoughts, sizing up a space. Clutching our keys late at night on the way home. I don't know what it's like to not feel aware of certain things.

But anyway. It was still a different feeling from other cons I've been to. Fan-run cons like 221B and Gridlock--cosplay is everywhere, sexuality and transness and openness, inclusivity, just seemed rampant even though the outward active purpose of the con is for Sherlock Holmes. Seattle felt different to me; some cosplay but the setting was just far more academic in setting. Still fun, but that lack of a hotel lobby thing is enormous and makes the entire con. And my pro-run con experiences are also quite different; cosplay is obviously everywhere at Comic Con, and I think I remember a ton at Pax East when I went early on. (Haven't been able to get tickets since.) This time, I think I only saw two people at all who were cosplaying--one as a Handmaid and one as Newt Scamander. I saw a few queer haircuts but it wasn't nearly as openly Alternative as the fun-run spaces. So that was one difference. Not an enormous one, I suppose, but sort of a unique middleground among the different cons I've been to personally.

I also had a strange sense of not quite understanding what people were about. People were so interested in grabbing free stuff left and right. Okay, sure, free stuff, but this was...a different thing, man. A couple weeks ago, I wondered aloud on Twitter (as one does) about an article on Amazon's subtle change to the way they sell books, because I couldn't quite envisage these random books in the world that weren't paid for to at least the publisher. Where did they come from? Did ARCs and galleys and random review copies sent out into the world actually cut into the profit of the original publisher? It was hard to imagine the numbers.

Not so much anymore. I spoke to a very nice lady at the booth for literary merch store Obvious State, and she told us that the industry con that happens just before Book Con is basically a looting free-for-all if you turn your back for one hot second (and often if you don't). And it's industry people doing the taking. Some of it could be innocent and all--there is a ton of free stuff and samples and previews and ARCs and galleys everywhere, but a lot of it is also taken outside of con hours, and by the arm-full and more. Things that are obviously set up in a store format (heavy duty canvas totes that retail for $40+ with tags on them) and not in a huge pile with a note on top that says "TAKE ME." She definitely emphasized that Book Con is not that way, it's the industry-only con that is essentially anarchy, and that you could leave the booth for lunch during Book Con days and not suffer losses beyond a pause on sales. I was kind of skeptical about that, but I mean hey, that was sweet of her to say.

But to get back to the not terribly grokking things. I truly don't get the grabbing of any random ole book. It almost makes more sense to me that people would eBay them (and apparently some of the industry people were definitely doing that), but I wouldn't just...pick up random books I had no knowledge about. Barely a sense of the genre or anything. I'm reminded of a Clueless quote where Cher says to Dionne, "you see how picky I am about my shoes and they only go on my feet." Well, um, books go in my brain. I don't intend on taking a random book home only to RL-backbutton out of it in chapter one, and then have that book collecting space in my hoarders-level apartment. That's not good for literally anyone.

Well. Anyway. I suppose to each their own. Maybe I  am the weirdo. 


Here are some pics from throughout the day behind the cut.

Read more... )

I'm still low-level interested in poking my head into other cons though. Maybe just to appreciate the home turf even more? It's interesting to see how different cons are organized and run, what cultures they grow, whether on purpose or not. It's a weird business to be in, looking for your own people, one's tribe, looking for that weird little connection to folks over specific things, specific loves. I rather like that space, even if I often feel like I'm just passing through. Conversant. Although it's slightly a thin line. It can also feel like being the only one not in love during spring.

I might look into Geek Girl Con as something I could do. I'd probably go to Dragon Con but it's always held on a weekend that's a vacation blackout at work. There's PodCon, which is new this year, but that's during the worst month in the whole year to travel. Mid-December? Gross and a half, and cross-country too.

Anyway. An odd place to end it, but needs must when the devil drives. Or, more to the point, when I have to see Wonder Woman again in a few hours so I  can make the podcast meeting in the evening.
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The first fanfic I ever read was Sailor Moon. This was back in 1996 or 1997, I was 13, 14, and 15 in those years, and fanfic came in lemon or lime flavors (I chose lemon, obviously), was downloadable in plain text files (introducing me to markups like _this_), and listed nowhere particularly central. It was difficult to find and I don't remember anything about whether it was tagged. This is likely how the two fics that stand out to me from this time got into my hands, as they were one-sided Shingo and Usagi -- a younger brother wanking to thoughts of his sister -- and infidelity trapped-in-an-elevator Rei/Mamoru sex. But the fic thing eventually died down. Cybersex and roleplay and live interactions sort of took over my interests. And eventually I took my horny middle/high school self and threw myself at real life boys instead of online sex ed and the internet variety of prurient distractions. So I promptly forgot about fic from about 8th or 9th grade until...until I was about 30, I suppose.

But I guess fanfic doesn't exactly make a fandom. When the Battlestar Galactica reboot and Lost were on, my friends and I watched that religiously: we gathered at the house with the biggest TV, made it a weekly Thing to watch and discuss. The internet was well in swing, since this was 2004 onward, but I don't know why, all the conversations I had about both shows were offline entirely. Okay, maybe I wandered into an occasional AV Club thread or something. And I wound up owning two different Lost t-shirts somehow, though I can't quite remember how that happened. I was highly invested, let's say, to the point where BSG's ending fucked me up for years. I rather wish I was kidding. I was salty for years, I'm still salty, and it ended in 2009. If that's an indication of how invested I was. And based on my level of investment, I count it as a fandom for me, although my personal experience with both didn't include much community/online interaction. Game of Thrones is very similar even now, but slightly more interconnectivity, mostly on Twitter.

But none of the above was Tumblr levels of ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* Sherlock fandom at the height of series 2 hiatus✧・゚: *✧・゚:*  investment. The thing is, I think nothing has ever been that height for me. And I think nothing will be again.

Just before I fell down the Sherlock rabbit hole in 2012, I picked up fanfic again for the first time since Sailor Moon. It was Supernatural fic, and I didn't read too much. I mainly remember one or two AUs, like Cas being a professor and Dean being a college student. Or, it might've been the other way around. The show being as long as it was (I think it was seven seasons at the time, with 24 episodes per), I often watched the show while doing other things, which was pretty easy to do with two monitors. I definitely called it popcorn TV, and that's basically what it was for me.

And then during Hurricane Sandy, I binge watched and fell in love with Doctor Who, which was in the midst of its 11th Doctor run. I started with Nine and went absolutely weak for David Tennant. I watched many a mediocre movie because of that man. And strangely, although I think I've attempted to read a DW fic here and there over the years, I honestly got into nothing, no ships, and no fic at all stands out from my attempts. I think once I tried reading Ten/Rose/Tentoo and I just wasn't into it. I just...put it down.

There's something about fandom and fannishness that pushes past the flaws in a given franchise or the quirks of the writer or the tricks of a director. Meaning, despite the flaws that I can see as a critical consumer of media, I love it anyway, and am in fact rather inexplicably...insatiable for more. Maybe the Sherlock fandom was custom-built for that, given the long hiatuses and the fic culture of producing high quality prose. 

I just haven't found anything that pushes me past that outside of Sherlock. And it feels...a little lonely. I sort of wish I could find something else, but all ventures out that I've tried have been brief, unsatisfying, or both. (Some attempts in the last couple years: Captive Prince, Rurouni Kenshin, MCU, Check Please, RPF.)

Looking back, I feel like I matured as a fic-seeking, inspired-to-write, fully fledged fan in a particular moment in time, not (apparently) to be repeated. And that if I had come into the fandom in the s3 hiatus or, god forbid, now, post-s4...I'd not spend years out of my life with this much fic, sitting with these characters in 221B, watching every movie in the lens of a johnlock AU, sparing thoughts I couldn't even really spare for this fandom. But all that also might be the case if I hadn't met my husband when I did, or any number of other Important Life Relationships.

There's something about that fannish insatiableness that's about appetite before you know you're hungry, too. It has to hit you, would-be fan, at just the right time. In an almost fateful sense, you have to be receptive to it yourself. And in that 2012-2015 period, I was. If that were to shift forward to 2015-2018, I doubt it'd be the same. What I don't know is if I'll be receptive again one day, and what will come along to fill it. Part of me can't imagine it.
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con·cil·i·a·to·ry
kənˈsilēəˌtôrē/
adjective
  1. intended or likely to placate or pacify.
    "a conciliatory approach"
    synonyms: propitiatory, placatory, appeasing, pacifying, mollifying, peacemaking
    "a conciliatory gesture"

The year didn't get off to a good start. I personally blame the nearly 63 million people who voted for Agent Orange, because, um, have you seen the news this week? But that isn't my point just now. My point is -- the year started with a sense of loss and mourning and anxiety. Everyone rolling up their sleeves for an impending, inevitable, unavoidable fight. And not some scuff or barroom brawl. Not something brief with the sharp potential for violence, although that's always in the cards. I mean a long, intractable...Fight. Maybe the term "fight" is a bit of a misnomer, because wars are long but battles end; struggles are endless but fights are temporary. You can get yourself geared up for a fight, but a struggle...that's hard.

I promise I'm not actually here to talk politics. Not US politics anyhow. Or. Well, not presidential politics. I'm just setting the scene.

I watched Dear White People this weekend. I binged it in one sitting and it's excellent. The internet recommends it highly too. Its ensemble cast presents a rare and wonderfully nuanced look at the way that different Black people in the show respond to and live with racism. I certainly grew to love all the characters in their own ways, and I was very fond of Coco. Colandrea. She goes by Coco.

My non-Black POC take on Coco is this. Early on in the season, she seems to be ashamed of her Blackness, all too ready to ingratiate herself to upper crust white people (one of their names is Muffy for god's sakes). She seems most willing to erase, or forget, or try to forget "who she really is," you know, before you get to know her better. And then you learn how ambitious she really is, how smart, how bone tired she is of the argument with other Black people, with friends, about being woke or not woke -- because none of that matters when police will shoot you regardless. And she has firsthand experience with that in her life, so it's a painful subject that cuts deep.

She copes with the world as it is, with the energy she has toward the work she can rouse herself for. I understand that, even if my own energies are elsewhere. She's trying to chip her way into the opaque upper echelons of the world she's in with Black people and everyone else, and it's hard, if not antithetical, to do that and to protest systemic inequality at the same. Difficult to fight the same ladder you're trying to climb. Coco, who's a climber, is layered and strong and she's very different from me. I love her as a character.

But politically, I don't find myself aligned with her. On a personal, visceral level, it takes too much out of me to do that Work. To smile and to keep your facial muscles smooth when a microaggression manifests out of thin air to remind you that you are different. Even the act of bracing oneself, tensing all those muscles for the slap that never comes, it's a lot. It's a Lot. And there are days I'm less prepared for it than others. This week's been a trying one for that.

Something else that happened over the weekend: an all-male Sherlockian organization voted to let in non-males for the first time in its 77-year history. It was one of a handful (perhaps four?) of boys clubs left standing in the US. My understanding is that organizations often wait for founders to die before taking these votes, out of respect. When this particular vote happened, it was unanimous. 

Responses have varied; if you're reading this, you probably well know. Congrats! So proud! all the way to wtf guys, it's 2017, did you want a cookie? It's the responses to the latter sentiment that have, from afar, managed to wear me thin. On a thin week that only got thinner. In a thin year. And I'm not in the comment threads myself, so I'm really just rubbernecking and getting tired in my heart over internal things, things I'm seeing in my circles. I can cop to that. And so I know that some comments have been deleted for being uncivil (unclubbable?), and I know that I'm coming to it from a place of unrest to start with. But. I also know where I am on the spectrum of comments, of sentiment, and know that my feelings cross that line between jerk and non-jerk (a line I had no part in drawing). My feelings are censorable. Maybe not amongst my immediate friends, but certainly not polite amongst many who aren't.

And truth be told, I don't feel terribly civil. I don't feel congratulatory. But neither do I want to get into an argument to change hearts and minds; I'm pre-exhausted by just the thought. You can't make people like you or invite you into their club. This is a thing I've heard before, prior to this week. It's a legal argument on the one hand -- private clubs aren't subject to laws the way public organizations are. It's a social one on the other -- being loud and obnoxious won't make anyone in an ostensibly social group want to socialize with you. Or so the logic goes. So if they do something that was wholly in their power to never do, it's a net good in the world. Be happy. Be grateful.

Part of me just can't brook with it. The smile muscles don't want to move, I don't know what else to say (despite being in the middle of trying). I feel as stiff and cranky as if I'd been nicely catcalled. No, you can't make people like you, can't make people invite you, accept you, befriend you, but repentance and an apology doesn't mean mean you're entitled to smiles and forgiveness either. (Assuming there's an apology in there; to be honest, I haven't seen one in this particular context, but take that from someone who gets everything second and thirdhand.)

And here's where I really start thinking about abuse and apologies and conciliation and smiles and the line behind which I'm looking directly at Coco, who's climbing up that rope that I think looks janky as fuck. Even if it takes a long time for someone to stop doing something bad, don't shame them when they do. It only makes it more difficult for them to convince their friends of the rightness of the cause, because then they're damned if they do and they're damned if they don't.

Maybe they're just...damned? Yeah, maybe that's accurate.

I have...so very little patience for this, as it turns out. I keep thinking of abusers and forgiveness and you can't make someone like you. You also can't demand forgiveness when you've done wrong, but you do what you can to earn it. The point isn't forgiveness, the point is understanding and regret and corrective action. Doing the right thing is the right thing to do. If that's not good enough, maybe you're not being very good, whatever your reasons. Maybe you didn't know before; but then you did. And when was that, was that this week?

If you need coaxing and cookies to do good, and you can't handle apologizing if you don't get forgiven for doing bad, you need Cocos in your life to do all that Work; I don't have the energy for it. I don't have it in me to be happy about steps in the right direction. Someone out there will. Lots of someones. Cocos who have worked it all from the inside all this time, Cocos who are ambitious and smart and can't be arsed to picket and yell, who constitutionally find it better to do and react how they do, instead of reacting how I do. 

I swear we (mostly) all want the same thing, but between here and there is a gulf of frustration about method and tone and gatekeeping and every kind of policing. And me, with my meandering, ridiculous thoughts (sorry). I don't think I'm made for fighting or peacemaking. Not this week.

Also, hi. I don't really blog. I just wanted to write...something.
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Me and my sassy twitter mouth made it to a blog post, thanks to this tweet:


Most of my reply back is reproduced below. Comments are moderated, so I'm not entirely sure when you'll see it on the blog post. But in any event, I have this ill-used livejournal and thought I'd thought-dump here.

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I did understand the ACD canon reference actually, but that's what I find slightly...clumsy, let's say. A bit forced. Of all the things I find Moftiss' Sherlock, wise, much less wisest, doesn't make the top ten.

I grant that this Sherlock may be on his way to becoming much more the wise Sherlock Holmes that the canon John Watson knows, admires, and eulogizes in The Final Problem, but at this point in the adaptation? In The Empty Hearse? God, you know I'm still thinking of the utterly overcome/compromised Sherlock in The Great Game who paced around the pool and scratched his hair with a loaded gun in his hand once Moriarty had left them alone. I'm thinking of Sherlock panicking at the restaurant where John is obviously about to propose and revealing himself with a jokey mustache. And yes, there's always the cabbie's pill game that Sherlock very unwisely played in A Study in Pink, explicitly not under duress, for which John rightly called him an idiot. Honestly, has Sherlock never seen Princess Bride?!

A couple people have poked me in the ribs about this particular tweet, saying that grief does odd things to a person. But FINA's Watson's writing for the Strand readers at this point, isn't he? Diagetically, he's reporting on the final adventure Holmes and he shared, the case that ended a great man's life. He's had time to digest and reflect. He's memorializing.

But John already eulogized him once and he didn't use the term wisest. In The Reichenbach Fall, his words were, "You were the best man, the most human...human being that I have ever known, and no one will ever convince me that you told me a lie." In public, on his blog, what he did say was very simply, "He was my best friend and I'll always believe in him." (If you take the johnwatsonblog.co.uk as canon.)

So maybe that's the disconnect between the words from FINA and the words that come out of John's mouth in TEH for me. What John's doing in TEH isn't eulogizing; this moment isn't meant to go beyond this subway car because presumably they're both about to die. No doubt, John's been grieving for last two years, but eulogizing, no. This John is repressed, "finds this stuff difficult." This John couldn't handle living at Baker Street and seeing Mrs. Hudson and talking to Ella about what Sherlock meant to him. This John, when he did eulogize Sherlock, did it before his grave, alone, after checking that Mrs. Hudson was out of earshot -- twice.

Hence Sherlock's surprise. He didn't suspect that John would harbor this high opinion of him still, after all this time. There's somehow more of where John's unfiltered s1-2 praise came from, more of the compulsive "that's amazing" praise that Sherlock is distinctly blase about by the time Irene Adler offers up her own version of it ("I'd have you twice right here on this desk until you begged for mercy"). Wise doesn't line up with my opinion of Sherlock at this point, despite the fact that supposedly series 1 and 2 were done in John POV. But John can't help what he thinks. It's little wonder that Sherlock memorializes him the way he does in his best man speech next episode.
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Having just posted this to tumblr, I thought I'd reproduce this writeup here:

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Belated as this is, I just got home from my whirlwind trip. One day con, four days away from home. Three day con? Also four days away from home. Life doesn’t make sense.

First off, I had an insane time even getting to con. Why? It’s too long to get into so I’ll just show you this storify that’s made up of both my twitter account and the three patch twitter account from which I was livetweeting. I hope you enjoy the nsfw haikus. Freebeard appreciation 5eva. But then the really fun part of Friday night was interviewing johnfuckingwatson, jupitereyed, @notyourbreadbaker, and jaradel with thescienceofobsession on cosplay. Coming soon to a TPP episode near you! I was more tanked than Science, I have to say. Empty stomach, exhausted, and two glugged down G&Ts later, you better believe it. Then I slept super lightly and dreamt of twitter. Literally.

The con itself: it was cozy! The con organizers (sorry, *ahem*, board of directors) did a wonderful job, and I know the dedicated volunteers helped it to run smoothly. As others have said by now, it felt not unlike 221B con, but more intimate. There were only two main rooms where events were going on, Martin and Ballroom B. I so wanted the rooms to be Martin and Benedict, but alas. (Insert headcanon that B stands for Benedict anyway; but then Ballroom Benedict…Benedict ball room…but technically it’s Martin who walks like he needs all that space around his balls…what was I talking about?). Ballroom A was the social room, which was where I spent most of my time, manning the TPP table in the corner. The very lovely thescienceofobsession, azriona, andmydwynter kept me company when emmagrant01, drinkingcocoa-tpp, andnotverygoodatflyingaeroplanes left for panels and things, and there was a steady stream of people coming in to pick up goodies and say hello to.

Sadly, I barely attended any panels. Even the threepatchpodcast ones! Someone had to man the table and all. So while Drinkingcocoa did her Potterlock talk, I could only hear the cheers from next door in the social room and imagine the discussion. But:


  • Thanks to azriona being awesome and pinch hitting at the table, I did get to catch an hour of abundantlyqueer's war talk, which was decidedly awesome. Always, always go see AQ talk, people. I just wish I could’ve stayed the whole time.

  • I rather accidentally wound up staying for more of emmagrant01's AU/crossover panel just because the room broke up into groups and I got physically hemmed in when I'd meant to leave. (I was there to cover some social media pictures and whatnot; I was tweeting and instagramming for most of the day for TPP.) But I wound up staying, which was still good. I’m extremely glad I was there in person formakokitten breaking out her erudite enunciation of the virtues of tunalock. I’m really looking forward to that panel being on the next episode of the podcast. Oh, and that wound up being the first time and the most I talked to fuckyeahfightlock all day, so that was lovely. Truth be told, if I hadn’t been in her group, I would’ve recced the Fightlock AU as a dark AU for people to get into. (Not blowing smoke up anyone’s ass; I’ve already done it.)

  • I was there for half of the elephant in the room panel (which Drinkingcocoa also did a kickass job moderating, I thought) and was relieved people seemed genuinely engaged. I personally thought it was rather eye-opening, but I skedaddled for the fic panel.

  • I attended the 18+ fic panel but my particular table was strange for reasons I won’t get into in public. (johnfuckingwatson, jupitereyed, andthescienceofobsession, you know it had nothing to do with you.) But I eventually migrated over to songlinwrites' table where I met but didn't quite hear the name of merripestin and other cool people. (I didn’t get to squee at her about Comorbidity until much later at the suite party.)emmagrant01's fic table had the absolutely most amazing Johniarty fic that was pulled out of a first-time-writer's ass in 23 seconds flat. It was mindblowing. I cried. I literally cried and fucked up my makeup beyond repair. If you were in Ballroom B and watching TPLoSH and heard the entirety of Ballroom A erupting in cheers, hoots, and screaming multiple times, that was entirely due to this Johniarty ghost!hatesex post-Reichenbach miracle of a ficlet. “Do you like chocolate?" "What?" FUCKING SLAY ME WHERE I STAND.

And yet, the highlight for the night for me was entirely the post-con TPP partyin our con suite. It wasn’t decked out like our 221B con suite, but it was fun nonetheless. There were watermelon margaritas…oh, that we muddled with a vibrator because TPP shenanigans. You’ll hear about it on the next episode, I’m sure. Ah, but also: I finally learned who Merripestin was and I gleefully talked to her about how I evangelized Comorbidity at 221B con. I got Mormor recs from yoshiwara-den-of-sin, caught up with jaradel and galinthegreyhat here and there and everywhere, and talked way late into the night withacrowdofstars and @slashaddickt, keeping up poor Science.

I slept little, I squeed hard, and I’m looking forward to next year’s!

And because this is quite long already, have some pictures under the cut. Just some selfies and con highlights. <3

Read more... )
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I started this post literally 3+ weeks ago, after I found myself downloading Delicious on iTunes at 3 in the morning. Here's the U.S. link. You can rent it for a little as $4 in standard def or buy it for $8 in high def. You can read [livejournal.com profile] mid0nz's interview with the writer-director, Tammy Riley-Smith, here.

I also livetweeted some idiotic thoughts along with it if you'd like to see. If you've ever wondered what sort of person I am, I am the kind of person who tweets about the Crime of M. Lange cinematography and chef!Shezza feels in the same film. Most of those thoughts really are idiotic though, so don't blame me if you click on it hoping for otherwise.

Non-spoilery writeup first, behind the cut for its obnoxious length.

Read more... )

Below the cut is a review of sorts. But I'm somewhat terrified to post it, because it's not a great review. And I mean that both in quality and in assessment. It's a rambly and generally negative reaction to a film. I'm sorry about that, I really am. I feel very much like a killjoy posting this, and I tend to stay away from critique in fandom for a reason. But I thought I owed at least Mid0nz an honest reaction.

Cut for, again, obnoxious length and for spoilers.

Read more... )

Certainly, your mileage may vary, and I absolutely hope that it does.
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So of course, there's been a lot of drama surrounding Dashcon and let's face it, much of it was deserved. I'm not particularly swayed by the latest from Dashcon's admins (more about that here). Dashcon has a hell of a lot of reputation to fix and I have no faith that it can pull it off inside of a year, not unless the admins step down wholesale and tried-and-true people take over with a game plan. As it is, I believe they fired a staffer and one of the three main admins, but those who remain are sitting on no good will as far as I'm concerned. I seriously doubt there's anything Dashcon could do at this point that would get me to go in 2015. That isn't vitriol; it's just fact. You done fucked up.

But there's two things about Dashcon that I think went really really right, and that's the programming and atmosphere. There were massive amounts of panels, including multiple LGBTQ panels, and the atmosphere was reportedly safe and fun (once you got past the hysteria and secondhand embarrassment of Friday night). The consensus seems to be that it was a fabulous first con to attend (and it was many people's first) and that's...heartwarming. That's really amazing. There were loads of cosplayers, a con demographic that's usually and historically vulnerable to harassment, and the reports have been really good that they didn't suffer that at Dashcon.

And so I'm doubly sad thinking about what a waste it is that the con admins are fucking up their own game. It smacks of self-delusion that they believe that next year's con is going to be some massive draw, at an even bigger hotel, when this year's turnout was a fraction of what they'd hoped and wound up being far too much con for attendees. And a thousand people or 1,500 or however much the final numbers wound up being -- that's massive and impressive for a first year fan con in its own right. But it seems like they were planning for ten times that number and, well, the fact that the execution of the con went so much better than its piss poor administration is the stuff of fairy godmother wishes. In short, I really wish another con could magically take the place of Dashcon, because I really like the idea of it.

And if you haven't watched this bit of programming that one of the LGBTQ&A panelists recorded and uploaded, you should give it a listen. I want more of this. Please. I just don't want the current Dashcon admins to bring it to the world. BrinConvenient, Sarah of Bisexual-books, Sashaforthewin, Mark of markdoesstuff, and Rhiannon of this-is-a-blog-about-things.

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I started writing this post, then recorded it for a fan medley for [livejournal.com profile] threepatch, and now here I am back to the working on the lj post. So yes, let me just shoot myself in the foot here poke at you guys about how you feel about this.

I don't pretend to have thought this through exhaustively and I don't pretend to be capital C correct about a damn thing. But here are my thoughts, muddled and decidedly uncogent as they are.

It'd be nice if I had a very high moral high ground to stand on (as, in fact, many people do see RPF as an issue of morality), and I'd feel a lot more secure if I, in fact, I saw things in black and white and felt things in black and white, and I were able to say, with conviction, "Yeah, you know what, there's a line I will not cross and this is it. No RPFs, none, and that's it, that's a squick, it's morally wrong."

But I don't have that line. I mean, not there, anyway. It's not a squick. And if it's morally wrong, I don't feel it sharply and instinctively like I feel other things are morally wrong. Is that...wrong?

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