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.