In the wake of Comic Con lite (the big one happens in a few months). I know that my kids are more interested in the spectacle and merchandizing than in the comic books themselves. I don’t think we touched a comic or spoke to an artist. In fact, I watched one of the boys walk past Rob Liefeld and even after I pointed him out there was this sense of ‘and..?’ that was repeated with even more disdain when I pointed out the actual Power Rangers.
These dudes just wanted to see sick costumes and wreck some randoms on Super Smash Bros. I cannot be mad at that. After being talked into a set of Batman throwing stars I recognize that I’m not too far off from that myself. I did at least collect the business cards of the costumers and snap some sweet photos to inspire the summer (and halloween) costume.
I’m going for an original merc look. I’ve been checking out harnesses and BB guns galore to go along with swords and a utility belt. I lack the hard armor seen on so many cosplayers, but that hard armor never quite works for their physiques.
I’m rambling here, so I’ll stop. Here’s what I learned: Comic Con is a place where people go to pretend to be someone else and in doing so slip even more into their own skin. Here you can dress in skimpy clothes, or full battle armor, or as a straight up Brony and the only judgement you will receive is on how well you manage to get fully into the representation of character that is actually a representation of you.
Some Thoughts:
- I’m writing this now because I am fabulously frustrated with my writing. The project I’ve been working on has been a nightmare–not so much because of the content of the work but because of the content of my life and how that affects my work. Some days are good and I can write. Some days are sad and I cannot.