Intervention ’11: Introduction

In a few hours, I will be leaving for the second-ever Intervention.

Created by blogger/developer/webcomic artist Onezumi Hartstein in 2010, Intervention (a combination of “internet” and “convention”) will take place all this weekend, going straight through from noon on Friday to 4PM on Sunday. It will take place in what I’m quickly learning is a fan convention hotspot: the Washington, DC metro area (specifically, Rockville, Maryland). Maybe I should move there from the relatively fan-con-free area of greater Philadelphia.

I met Onezumi during the lead-up to March 2011’s Zenkaikon V here in suburban Philadelphia, at which she was a guest. Conducting an email interview for the convention blog prior to the event, I was touched at how she took the time to include HTML tags in her answers. This woman knew her stuff! I had the pleasure of meeting her in person at Zenkaikon and offered my services as a blogger for her own event.

And here we are!

Exceptionally organized and gathering a large collection of proactive and humorous staff, Intervention is certainly going to be a treat for me. I am looking forward to covering a convention that is primarily focused on Internet culture, which has only been represented partly at the anime conventions I usually frequent/cover. Keep up with the blog and the convention itself at their website or follow along on Twitter. As always, my pieces for the convention will be here on Inochiblog in the days/weeks following the event.

Otakon 2011 Review

(reposted from my Tumblr account)

The last weekend of July 2011 was spent by me at the whatever-teenth annual Otakon. Otakon weekend is perhaps the only weekend on the calendar during which thousands of people actually travel TOWARD Baltimore, Maryland, as opposed to running away from it at full speed, blood gushing from their bullet wounds.

Otakon is synonymous with the first time I ever heard the words “anime” and “convention” used together. Credit for this goes to my friends Bill & Brian who, several years ago, traveled to Baltimore specifically for the convention. Complaints about Baltimore’s lack of parking, restaurants, and navigational ease (all of which I confirmed while there) were interspersed with vivid descriptions of anime infiltration stretching on into infinity. At the time in Philadelphia, at least as far as my experience was concerned, anime was limited to a pathetic shelf or two at the movie/music stores and imported VHS tapes at a novelty shop downtown. Thus, digesting the fact that there was a gathering around the genre, enough to brave the six-hour round trip separating the two cities was difficult.

Then, Brian told me the following story:

“The convention center was also holding some religious conference that weekend. So we’re waiting by the elevator with a bunch of nuns. The elevator doors open and there’s a guy inside cosplaying a demon. He looks right at the nuns and says in a really deep voice ‘going down?’”

I had to go to this event.

It wasn’t until years later that I would begin frequenting anime conventions on an annual basis, despite still classifying myself as “anime lite.” The overall geek culture and sub-emphasis on video games prevalent at many conventions is what attracted me. Ultimately, I even began blogging for the conventions, something that earned me many new friends, friends with whom I felt truly comfortable, close friends. My travels took me to conventions not only in and around Philadelphia, but also to Washington, DC (where I learned that Brian’s above story is an anime con urban legend) and Boston.

So, what did I think of Otakon, the second biggest anime convention in the COUNTRY, a convention to which, as anime anthropologist and good friend Charles Dunbar puts it, “all roads lead?”

Impressive.

But not memorable.

I suppose that size is to blame. In terms of anime convention, Otakon has become a corporation of sorts, with policies and personal politics steering a convention that bills itself “for otaku.” The panel offerings struck me as the least diverse; I am still spoiled by Anime USA 2010, whose panel offerings were not only plentiful but also varied. The fans seemed to be there for no other reason other than to be there, because, dude, this is OTAKON! The sense of community wasn’t wholly lost, but it wasn’t abundant, either; this is in stark contrast to those conventions that draw fewer attendees than Otakon’s final total of 35,000+. It didn’t seem personal.

Maybe it’s just me.

What did impress me was how welcome Baltimore was to the convention. Signs at our hotel and nearby eateries welcomed Otakon. Street vendors were just as plentiful as they are at sporting events, hocking food, drinks and even caps outside of the convention center. I half expected to see Otakon badge scalpers! Certain units in a nearby food court overlooking the city’s famed Inner Harbor offered specials to those in costume and/or possessing Otakon badges. Local TV news crews were on scene and one free weekly newspaper I saw—a publication describing itself as a source for all things “hip”—featured Otakon on the front page.

Perhaps Otakon 2012 will be more “Otakon” and less “OTAKON!!!”

This all being said, I am in no way any sort of expert. I open the comments floor to any and all debate/discussion about your OWN thoughts on a convention whose most popular aspect was a guy selling ice cold water.

For only one dollar.

Water + Otakon = Meme?

“I got your ice cold water! And it’s only one dollar!”

If you were at Otakon 2011 for any length of time, you are not only familiar with the above words, but they are tattooed onto your brain.

From Thursday through early Sunday afternoon, one of the numerous beverage vendors lined up along Pratt Street outside of the Baltimore Convention Center is standing out from the rest. More ripped than Major Armstrong, clad in sunglasses, shorts, and (why not?) a weight belt, the vendor enthusiastically sings over and over into a bullhorn the following chant:

“I got your ice cold water!
And it’s only one dollar!
I got your ice cold water!
And it’s only one dollar!
I got your ice, ice,
Cold, cold
Ice, ice
Cold, cold
I got your ice cold water…”

The chant appeared to be set to the theme from “Mighty Morphin’ Power Rangers.” Peddling nothing more than half-liter bottles of Nirvana brand water, his simple yet unique approach to advertising drew crowds and their cameras. At one point, even Otakon staff members were seen filming his pitch for inclusion on the website.

“Can I autotune you?” an attendee in the crowd asks, his Droid already recording.

The man behind the bullhorn goes by the name of Josh. He and his wife Candice, who assists with sales, are Baltimore residents and were also present at Otakon 2010, sans musical chant. During their four sixteen-hour workdays outside the convention center, the couple estimates that over 100 cases of water were sold. “Honestly, I’ve lost count,” Candice says. At twenty-four bottles to a case, this translates to a gross profit of close to $2500, minus the Baltimore street vendor fees.

During Otakon’s hiatus, Josh’s day job is living proof as to why he is so overzealous about hydration.

“Personal trainer,” he says before turning away to complete another sale.

He may be a quiet man when it comes to conversation, but Josh was noticeably appreciative of his new fans. He posed for photographs, performed for rolling video cameras, and never forgot a “thank you.” Before long, otaku passing by were giving the pair loose singles simply because of his notoriety.

His chant was being repeated by attendees. Pro- and anti-“ice cold water guy” messages were filling up Twitter, Tumblr, and Facebook. Weight belts were flying off of local sporting goods store shelves, quickly becoming part of last-minute cosplay outfits.

OK, I made that last part up. Nevertheless, the fact that Josh and his catchy chant were circulating around the Internet like Google Plus invites could only mean one thing: he’s on his way to becoming the next meme. Cries of “ice cold water!” could very well replace “Marco!” or “Buttscratcha!” at future conventions. Heated, misspelled forum and Twitter debates will form over the exact words in the chant and to what melody it was set. And finally, Otakon enjoys a new stake of popularity that is NOT a fire alarm.

Meet Rachel, an attendee from Allentown, Pennsylvania. She has the distinction of purchasing the very last ice cold water from Josh and Candice. She laughed and admitted no real reaction when informed that she helped close the chapter of the net’s latest celebrity.

As for Josh and Candice? The batteries were removed from the bullhorn, the cooler’s lid was shut, and off they walked, presumably to watch “Mighty Morphin’ Power Rangers.”

(Very special thanks to Lauren Orsini, who helped me out immensely with this post; do yourself a favor and check out her site, for her writing pwns all that is pwnable)

Panel: OMG! WTF Did I Just Watch?!

On Friday night of Otakon 2011, I and over 200 others watched as a giant chicken and frog promoted a device that automatically opens and closes your toilet lid.

What, how did you spend YOUR Friday night?!

The above commercial was one of numerous Japanese television clips collected by panel host Deuce Loosely, of Deuce Loosely Productions. Accurately communicating the phrase “WTF” using methods other than three keys on the left side of QWERTY keyboards, Loosely had his audience in equal parts amusement and shock throughout the duration of the presentation. The 18+ offering was held shortly after midnight, conveniently adjacent to most folks’ periods of REM sleep. Oh joy.

Among the offerings:

–Images of a happy family are displayed. The mother and father coo joyously over their new baby, who is still breastfeeding. Things take a sharp turn into the dark side when the couple’s older child has jealousy get the better of him. Grabbing a bottle of poison, he paints drops of it on his mother’s exposed breasts while she and her husband sleep. The next morning, she awakens with a bloodcurdling scream…

…at the sight of her husband deceased in bed, foam on his mouth.

Dear random Japanese insurance company: Flo the Progressive Lady and the Geico cavemen have NOTHING on you. NOTHING.

–A DJ Ozma music video featuring naked men dancing (and playing baseball) atop a roof…holding fans that strategically cover each other’s genital areas.

–Several clips of Japanese wrestling matches that display common wrestling moves like the pile-driver and bodyslam being performed…from atop platforms 20+ feet in the sky.

–A game show seriously punishing laughter. Several men are gathered in a classroom, where a video of a Japanese man poorly attempting to read simple English plays. The man’s attempts are truly pathetic, a consistent rhythm of stutters and false starts interspersed with periods of reading the numeral “20” as “ten ten” (and, naturally, the numeral “100” as “ten ten ten ten…”).

Those who laugh at the video are marked “out” and have that status certified with—what else?—a caning.

This makes the “Price is Right” losing trumpet riff sound like heavenly music.

–A game show that went on to be the crowd favorite. Taking place in a library, several young men are playing a rather simple game: each one is issued a card and whoever receives the card with a skull must face a brutal physical punishment, which changes from round to round. During each punishment, the recipient cannot make a sound louder than a whisper, thanks to the library location. To ice the cake, joining them is Japanese kickboxing champion Ernesto Hoost, who possesses the same look and build of Michael Clarke Duncan.

Think of it as “Jackass: The Party Game.”

The punishments range from having one’s nose hair pulled to suffering a bat strike to the ass. Spoons that spent the past hour in boiling water were applied to the stomach. At one point, an elderly man removes his dentures and nibbles ferociously on the skull card recipient’s ear.

Afterwards, Hoost treats everyone to an evening out at a karaoke bar.

“WTF” was truly redefined, perhaps even intensified, at Loosely’s panel. The audience, one to two hours away from life-changing nightmares, were amused throughout, their satisfaction level at a full ten ten ten ten ten ten ten ten ten ten percent.

Otakon 2011: Introduction

Laptops are on all around me, curing boredom for a generation of folks who are growing more and more unfamiliar with life sans an Internet connection. The white noise of the overheard air conditioner is periodically punctuated by a blabbing child hidden somewhere behind me, shrieking every time our vehicle passes water in any form.

“Water!,” it cries out to a parent who, by now, is surely regretting not stocking up on Trojans half a decade ago. This is not an unshared wish.

Ahead of me, drab interstate highway and nondescript foliage represent the state of Maryland. Such imagery is mysteriously absent from state guidebooks and tourist brochures, which would have those hailing from the 49 other states that Maryland is home to little more than smiling lobsters and the Baltimore Orioles.

Yes, I am on my way to Otakon.

A vacant spot in a hotel room shared by my friends Lauren, John, and Andrew was offered to me by Lauren during the waning hours of Anime Boston earlier this year. Never having been to the country’s second-biggest anime convention (the biggest being California’s Anime EXPO), I jumped at the chance. Friends of mine from back home in Philadelphia had attended the convention a few years back and came back loaded with tales. Every convention they attended since has paled in comparison. From the way they made it sound, going to non-Otakon conventions was like riding the “Back to the Future” ride at Universal Studios and coming back to those “virtual reality” machines stuck in abandoned shopping mall hallways that resemble tire-lacking SUVs with Parkinson’s Disease.

Otakon will, for me, be the latest in a series of anime conventions that have been gradually increasing in size since January of this year. First came New Jersey’s Kotoricon, a small yet extensive convention held on the campus of Glassboro County College. Later on was Zenkaikon V, the defining anime convention of the Philadelphia area, held each year outside the city in Valley Forge. From there, it was off to the well-renowned New England area convention, Anime Boston, whose crowd sizes dwarfed those of Zenkaikon and squashed those of Kotoricon.

And now it’s Otakon, the San Diego Comic Con of the East Coast anime convention circuit.

I have heard stories galore about the wonders that take place during this annual summer weekend in Baltimore, Maryland. Larry Fury, who presented the panel “Conventions 101” at Zekaikon V, regaled the crowd with his experiences of hotel room sharing. At Otakon, room sharing goes beyond doubling up on beds, hoping that the person you don’t see too often (or have never met at all) isn’t a snorer or bed-wetter. For instance, bed TRIPLING is commonplace. Seventeen people in a room designed for one businessperson and his/her belongings is expected. Closets become beds. Bathtubs become beds.

Furry went on to detail what the segment of Baltimore surrounding the three-day event is like: “After Friday night, all of the ATMs within walking distance of the place are out of cash.”

Despite these tales (warnings?), I have no idea what to expect. And I like that.

PinHat

Wizard World East 2011 may now be part of the past, but few people know that, out of it, something new was born.

Whenever I travel to conventions (or pretty much anywhere), I inevitably come across pins or buttons. Sometimes they’re free, a form of promotion. Other times, they cost a very low price (I’ve seen tables offering anywhere from one to ten pins/buttons for $1). As a result, I’ve managed to get my hands on a number of these things, all of which I swear I will add to my apartment’s Pee-Wee-Herman-meets-Ernest-P.-Worrell decor. Aside from a few comic book-related pins (proudly residing in my comic book-themed bathroom) and a set of buttons displaying Bowser and his seven offspring (who knew the “Super Mario Bros.” villain was one Koopaling away from being Mushroom World’s OctoKoop?), the majority of my pointy souvenirs have collected dust on various structures in my room.

Well, I’ve decided to change all of that.

I went into a thrift store close to Wizard World’s downtown Philadelphia location and bought the following hat for $3

A close-up of its price tag:

The apparent lack of a decimal point on the store’s pricing gun initially makes this felt accessory seem a hell of a lot more expensive than it actually is. I considered leaving it on there until I realized that ACTUAL $300 hats out there probably wouldn’t be marked so with such pricing stickers. Also, they wouldn’t have the scent of discontinued brand soap permanently engrained into their fibers, a dead giveaway that the item came from a store with the word “dollar” and/or “thrift” in its name.

I’m going to attach all of my pins to this hat. The same goes for any pins I may acquire at future conventions or elsewhere.

When the entire hat is covered in pins and buttons, I will retire the “Blinky” hat, which has been a staple of my Inochiblog wear up to this point, and don this ridiculous accessory at each and every convention I cover in the future.

So far, the pins in my possession are the following:

Needless to say, they won’t do the job of completely covering the hat. With Otakon coming up in about a month and Intervention in September, my pin and button collection is certain to grow. My goal is to debut the hat at Anime USA 2011, assuming I have an appropriate (meaning embarrassing) amount of metal attached to it.

I’ve already started:

Pictured is a Link pin I acquired from Zenkaikon IV that originally joined the Blinky hat in my official Inochiblog costume. I figure it (and perhaps a soon-to-be-acquired Blinky pin) will be appropriate front-of-the-hat signage.

Wish me luck!

I Went to the Con and All I Got Were These STDs

Contracting an illness at a convention is unfortunately all too possible. Gather hundreds, or even thousands, of people together in one area and germs are certain to be spread; the chance of getting sick multiplies on multi-day events. The fact that many fan conventions can attract those folks who don’t go out into public much, thus ensuring a weakened immune system, also increases the possibility of post-con sickness.

In years past, my DVDs, posters, books, and infinite supply of business cards, fliers, and pins haven’t been the only things that followed me home from a convention. The common cold, fever, and even a case of the flu itself have all, at one point or another, tacked an unpleasant postscript to my most recent convention experience. I’d be lying if I said my recent attendance at downtown Philadelphia’s Wizard World East 2011 was any different.

While there, I got gonorrhea on Friday. As if that wasn’t bad enough, on Sunday, I found myself with herpes.

Seriously.

Now, if you’re wondering why I’m writing about this instead of fleeing to the nearest physician or, at the very least, weeping alone in a corner, scratching my private region profusely (which is how I wake up every morning), allow me to explain. The diseases did not come to me by way of an unclean furry or fangirl. First of all, no such specimens really captured my eye that weekend. Secondly, the strains of herpes and gonorrhea I acquired weren’t of the infectious variety, but rather of the plushie variety.

Welcome to a rather prominent booth located toward the main floor’s front doors!

A temporary brick-and-mortar version of Drew Oliver’s “Giant Microbes” website, the Giant Microbes display featured those microbes making up common sexually-transmitted diseases. Each respective creature is a felt-and-stuffing version of its molecular counterpart, magnified one million times. Cards detailing which disease is represented, as well as fun trivia about said disease, are affixed to the plushies.

Needless to say, I *had* to have one.

Upon my first sighting of the booth on Friday, I found it extremely difficult to select just one. I realize STDs and VDs are indeed serious medical conditions, but come on. I’m a 30-year-old guy who is a fan of everything from Tucker Max to “Beavis and Butt-head”; of COURSE I’m going to find such conditions nothing short of hilarious. But which to choose?! My plushie collection (which, at the time, was severely lacking in the Giant Microbes department) could have a cute little Chlamydia added to it. How adorable would my stuffed Domo-kun or Tribble look with a giant HIV cell on their lap? On lonely nights, I could snuggle under my covers, gripping the warmth of a syphilis cell magnified a million times as I fall asleep.

I have issues.

I ultimately settled on:

Yup, Gonorrhea, better known as “The Clap.” Fun fact from my new little plushie pal’s attached card: the term “clap” originates from the French word “clapier,” which translates to “brothel.” Seems like a fitting nickname to me. Since I possess the maturity of a 12-year-old, I of course went around to my various friends, touching them with my $9 purchase, and boasting “I just gave you gonorrhea!” When I wasn’t rubbing it on them, I was proclaiming…a little too proudly…that I was a “carrier of gonorrhea.” The possibility for jokes, and even double-entendre-filled dialogue, is endless:

PERSON A: “Look! I got gonorrhea!”
PERSON B: “Well, what did you expect for nine bucks?”

Fast forward to Sunday of the convention. I had spent the past day and a half making purchases that did NOT resemble magnified STD cells/molecules (although if I saw something ion my molecular structure shaped like the inflatable d20 I purchased (at the price of $1 per side), I’d go to a doctor). My rounds brought me back to the Giant Microbes booth, where I once again found myself desperate to part with the better part of ten dollars. Keep in mind that, when some urine-soaked, scraggly bum approaches me in a train station, using what’s left of his voice to beg me for spare change, I tell him that I am just as broke as he is. I have priorities.

I asked the booth manager which diseases have been top sellers.

“Chlamydia, herpes, and kissing disease (infectious mononucleosis),” he replied. “I used to sell a lot of sperm and HIV.”

“Yeah, I already have gonorrhea.”

Chalk that one up to “Discussions I never imagined I would have with someone.”

After some difficult decision-making, I decided that the addition of herpes to my gonorrhea would be appropriate. The salesman agreed, primarily because it meant he could pocket an additional nine bucks.

So there you have it. I left Wizard World East 2011 with gonorrhea and herpes. I plan to keep them forever (in the latter’s case, I understand such a feeling is mutual).

If you want your own disease plushies, I strongly suggest checking out Giant Microbes’ site at giantmicrobes.com. You’ll notice that the site offers a plethora of different diseases and germs for sale, not just those contracted by people who only wanted to undergo a little sexual exploration. They’d make great gifts for that friend or family member in the medical field who already seems to have everything (especially if they’re a proctologist). I imagine that, in some deeply twisted context, such items could even be educational.

Besides, how cool would it be to say that your local mail carrier gave you syphilis?

Cock-iatures

Sundays are always interesting days at conventions. The bulk of the event has passed and priorities shift to clearing out by the mid-afternoon closing time. Big-name guests are long gone, as are the crowds who filled the center only 24 hours prior to see them. It is safe to say that the hardcore fans are in the majority on Sunday, closing out their weekend by sifting through comics, toys, etc. for that elusive deal.

It is a magical time.

I was wandering aimlessly through the artist’s alley on the last day of Wizard World East 2011 in Philadelphia. Suddenly, a voice called out to me:

“Draw a penis for a dime!”

Since I immediately realized that such a phrase most likely won’t be repeating itself anytime soon in my life, I took a temporary leave of absence from my wandering duties and made my way to the source of the call. It turns out that it originated from Patrick J. Reilly, seated at the table for Pronto Comics. Sure enough, right there on his table, I found the following:

That’s right: ANY character drawn as a penis on a Post-It Note for a mere ten cents. Some of his display drawings (also for sale) included The Flash and Venom from “Spider-Man.” It was certainly not only unique, but also MUCH more affordable than other pieces of artwork around the convention. Again, this was on Sunday, a mere 1-2 hours from the event’s closure; at that point, your credit cards are crying out “No more! Swiping hurts!”

I scanned my memory bank (and, while I was at it, my spank bank) for favorite characters of mine that would look good re-imagined as a key part of the male anatomy. It didn’t take long before I came up with not only a choice, but a challenge.

“How about Johnny 5 from the ‘Short Circuit’ movies?”

His reply?

“That’s the best suggestion I’ve had all day.”

He went right to work.

The artist at work.

The finished product.

Excellent attention to detail. My favorite part is of course the chrome. Reilly made sure to add the phrase “Johnny 5 is hard and alive!” If the toy-making career he assumed in the closing scenes of “Short Circuit 2” doesn’t pan out, perhaps Johnny can do porn. Hey, rule #34 exists for a reason.

I named the creation “Johnson 5.”

When I had first approached the table, Reilly took note of the Star Trek shirt I had opted to wear that day and offered “I haven’t done Spock yet.” As the ink dried on the 3M canvas now home to Johnson 5, I requested Leonard Nimoy’s famed character next; “Spock the Cock” seemed like an appropriate moniker. As he drew, I suggested that he also draw William Shatner himself for his table’s sample pile, as the Shat is renowned for being quite a dick.

Finally, Spock the Cock was completed and submitted for my approval:

I’m sure this re-imagined Vulcan will enthusiastically “live long.”

I happily informed Mr. Reilly that his two small masterpieces were NOT worth ten cents apiece; instead, I paid a cool fifty cents for the artwork. Reilly’s work is, in my opinion, a small but nevertheless certain sign that Wizard World is returning to its roots as a show for fans of comics and those who create them. While the big-name guests again stole the show, folks like Patrick J. Reilly, who use their creativity to create art for a price that won’t absolutely break potential customers, make up the heart and soul of what conventions should be all about. Celebrities who haven’t been relevant since the dawn of the NASA program charging 3-4 times the price of an admission pass should NOT be the heart and soul.

Check out Reilly’s personal site at https://sites.google.com/site/notpatreillyclub/ and follow him on Twitter at @NotPatReilly. Tell him Johnson 5 sent you.

Review: Unicorn City

Nationwide, Father’s Day weekend 2011 will always be remembered as the span of time during which “Green Lantern” premiered in theaters. A handful of extremely entertained folks, however, will no doubt recall another movie that made its premiere that weekend (and no, those folks are not whoever paid money to see “Mr. Popper’s Penguins”).

As Wizard World East 2011 wrapped up its Saturday offerings, a crowd of curious moviegoers filed into a ballroom on the first floor of the convention’s downtown Philadelphia location, the Pennsylvania Convention Center. They were treated to the first screening of the not-yet-released gaming comedy “Unicorn City,” starring Jon Gries, perhaps best known as “Uncle Rico” from “Napoleon Dynamite.” The film’s producer, Adrian Lefler, and director, brother Bryan Lefler, preceded the screening with a brief synopsis on their respective backgrounds and the struggle involved with the project. Beginning as an updated version of “Don Quixote” and its theme of “imagination versus reality,” the “Unicorn City” script went through numerous rewrites and substantial development; additionally, the tanking economy managed to deter potential investors. Before long, the head of SSL company Digicert, Ken Bretschneider, committed one million dollars to the successful production of the film. Armed with positive reviews by cast, crew, and their respective friends and family members alike, the brothers Lefler headed east from their Salt Lake City, Utah base to Wizard World East in Philadelphia. It was there that “Unicorn City” was going to premiere to an audience not exclusively comprised of cast and crew members and/or their associates.

“Unicorn City” follows the life of Voss (Devin McGinn), a passionate gamer whose life both on and off the gaming tables constantly finds him rolling a one. Banished from the realm of a table game created by local comic book shop proprietor Shadow Hawk (Gries), the financial pressures of actuality are all that wait to greet him. When a managerial job offer hinges on his proven ability to lead, Voss calls upon his fellow gamers to shed the shackles of “IRL” (and Shadow Hawk’s tyranny) and live out their fantasies in a utopia dubbed “Unicorn City.” Telling only fellow gamer Marsha (Jaclyn Hales) that Unicorn City’s existence is solely for potential employment, he convinces the remainder of his followers to live as their characters would. Conflict presents itself in the form of Shadow Hawk’s attempts to take over the city, curious local police officers, and Marsha’s romantic crush on Voss that sadly is unnoticed. Is Voss able to conquer the demons plaguing him both within and outside Unicorn City’s borders? Or will his selfishness finally catch up with him, leaving him in worse shape than ever?

As someone who describes himself as “gamer lite,” I found myself thoroughly entertained by the film from beginning to end. The reaction of others in the room, not to mention the elongated applause during the end credits, was a clear indication that I was not alone in this sentiment. Everything from the writing to the casting to the overall production possessed the professionalism traditionally represented in major studio releases. It is safe to assume that even strict non-gamers will give “Unicorn City” their stamp of approval, thanks to its inclusion (and reliance) on such universal concepts as unrequited love, the longing for acceptance, and the frustration of life’s shortcomings. The comedy constantly hit the mark, the romantic scenes were heartfelt and realistic, and the struggles were entrancing.

The Lefler brothers expressed deep passion for their craft and a heartfelt appreciation for their first audience. With the success of independently-produced, gaming-related fare like “Gamers” and “The Last Lovecraft: Relic of Cthuhlu,” it is a very safe bet that gamers and non-gamers alike have not heard the last of Adrian and Bryan Lefler. Their tour will continue with the Wizard World folks at the company’s Chicago convention and will also screen at Gen Con in Indianapolis.

Visit the film’s official website as well as their Facebook page for additional information on the film, including ways to get it screened in your own city. If you are lucky enough to view it this year, use the power of social media and word of mouth to raise awareness; chances are that you will make up the same type of audience that, in 1994, wandered curiously into a grainy black-and-white feature named “Clerks.”

Free Stuff!

When you pay anywhere from twenty to seventy (yes, SEVENTY) dollars to get into a fan convention, only to be greeted by a floor full of dealers, artists, and celebrities thirsting for MORE of your money, it makes sense that free stuff is very sought after. At Wizard World conventions, where someone who hasn’t done even a sub-par movie since the advent of the VHS format charges twice the price of your admission to scribble down their own name, free stuff is pretty much all that the fans can afford before long.

As I spent Father’s Day weekend 2011 strolling around the floor of downtown Philadelphia’s Pennsylvania Convention Center, browsing the offerings of Wizard World East 2011, I kept my sixth sense honed into any and all free stuff being offered. The most usual items offered include business cards, postcard-size fliers, posters, stickers, and pins. Very blah, in this blogger’s humble opinion (and if you don’t agree, start your own damn blog). Only truly unique freebies will have the distinction of making it onto the pages of Inochiblog here. Such as…

MASK

The folks at Avatar Press were promoting their latest offering, Crossed, with, among other things, an assortment of free masks. Presumably, the face held in place over your own by Burger-King-birthday-crown-quality straps is that of one of the main characters. I have no clue. All I *do* know is that the friends I was with at the time stated in no uncertain terms that they would refuse to associate with me were I to wear the mask. This greatly disappointed yours truly, who wished to view the entirety of “Green Lantern” later on that evening through the mask’s eye holes. According to a healthy number of critics out there, it would have served me well to have kept the eye holes covered while doing so.

BAG THAT IS LARGER THAN THE SWAG BAG OFFERED BY THE CONVENTION

I am in no way interested in joining the National Guard, primarily because I flat-out refuse to guard a nation that glorifies “American Idol” and overall stupidity. I must admit, however, that the bags its representatives brought to Wizard World were pretty decent, in that, as you can see, they are significantly larger than the bags given out by the convention itself. In fact, at many points, my official Wizard World East 2011 bag was INSIDE this one.

COIN

The National Guard does it again! This time, my tax dollars forged a freebie in the form of a rather colorful coin. Not a pin. Not a sticker. A damn COIN. True, the coin probably possesses the exact value (probably less) of the price I paid for it (jack shit), but it's still a damn COIN. I could, like, flip it and stuff. I could be an exceptionally patriotic Two Face. For all I know, that's where the former Harvey Dent is headed upon DC Comics' universe revamp this coming September.

MINTS

MyPHL17, Philadelphia’s Tribune Broadcasting-owned television network, had a presence at the convention. In addition to freebies like posters and stickers, the table’s underpaid associates greeted the top and bottom of each hour with a spin of a large prize wheel sitting upon their table. Spaces on the wheel were reserved for various MyPHL17 syndicated programs, including “Family Guy,” “Burn Notice,” “Big Bang Theory,” etc. If a contestant correctly answers a trivia question about the program in question, he/she/it will win a small prize. Since said prize costs nothing more than your knowledge of syndicated television, it thus counts as a free item.

My correct guess at some question concerning “Burn Notice” landed me a tin of mints. In a convention full of people emitting breath that smells so rank it ALMOST overpowers their body odor, a tin of mints would seem totally out of place. However, I and my then-current bout of halitosis welcomed them with an open mouth.

COPIES OF “THE ONION”

The popular satire publication “The Onion” recently (within the past year) brought its free weekly newspaper to the streets of Philadelphia. Also represented via table at Wizard World East 2011, their offerings included the standard assortment of business cards, pins (including a great one reading “Fuck Off; I’m Reading the Onion”), etc. Also scattered around the table were free copies of a few past issues.

Works for me.

A HALL PASS

The Inkbot table got creative with their giveaways, at least when it came to their webcomic “Mallville.” Included among the assortment of postcards festooned with their URL and various titles was a mock hall pass, designed to tie directly in with the goings-on of Mallville.

Plus, the next time I happen to create extra-dimensional female trouble, I have proper documentation for my file.