They say that in the future all things will be possible. But I’m afraid to say that time travel will never occur. Sorry Spielberg. Continue reading
I spent the day with some friends. This in itself is not unusual and fun, but this time it was at MCM comicon, which is even better!
Having a satisfying day seeing the various cos-players and general people arriving, bimbling round and buying the most random things. Like cat-bun cushions. They’re kind of weird. A fat pillow sized cat cushion with a happy little chibi face and a little tail. Utterly bizarre to some, and brilliant to others. And I must confess, a comfortable foot rest for me.
Cara, Chania and I went a-wandering round London for our exciting little day trip, with me all done up War Boy style (Mad Max for my uninformed viewers!) until I added a cute little pair of fox ear hair clips. So cute, but is it sugoi?! Anyway, we saw no end of (underage) manga fans, too many Jokers to count (of all styles) a couple of StarLords, a StarLard, a few dozen storm troopers, a couple Darth Vaders and a Darth Maul-ed a pie shop to death. (I don’t mean that to sounds anywhere near as harsh as it sounds by the way!) But they looked happy. Apart from the predictable people wearing ‘Free Hugs’ signs that looked horrified when I hugged them. These people of all shapes, sizes, ages and races, all gathered together to celebrate the endless world of geekdom. It’s nice to see so many people get on, so different, yet the same.
We saw Parenting done right, to the extreme. Two adults, dressed as Titans (Attack on Titan) and two small boys dressed as Scouts (again, Attack on Titan characters) these kids were happy, they were playing, and this was right at the end of the day. Other kids were crying, grumpy and shitty, but these kids, no. Which is why I feel no shame in admitting that I let them ‘kill’ me, a few times, while I fell to the floor in full hamming it up, stage death style, and they played along. Killing me again when I zombie’d my way up from the floor. The pain in my knees was worth the fun, laughs and smiles.
Also, I feel no shame in having run across two halls, at top speed, arms waving, shouting “WITNESS” as loud as I could. The joy of letting loose at comicon.
However, again, the place was crawling with prams. Who the buggery insists on taking babies to conventions? What the hell is wrong with them? What if I told you, that to have fun you had to take your children, in prams, to a cramped, hot, busy place, filled with strangers, all of whom will be leaning, tripping and stepping over your child? Would you be happy about that? I wouldn’t. I don’t even like kids and I wouldn’t subject them to that. So stop it, arseholes.
With that in mind, it is nice to see slightly older children, who understand it, coming to conventions. Their parents either dragging or being dragged along to various gatherings over the year. I’ll admit, I’m jealous, my parents didn’t even remotely encourage my personality, they actively tried to convince me I was broken somehow, that normal people didn’t like the things I liked.
Got a news flash for you, what the hell is normal anyway? And really, as long as what you like doesn’t hurt others, you’re normal. Hobbies and interests make you normal.