The Urgent Need to Distract

Once more, the banner is raised on the mailing list. The ever so useful community mailing list I'm on for anime convention management, that is. And the banner in question is that cheerful challenge to post the silliest thread possible.

This time around, at least my friend Erica started the nonsense, instead of me. Often these threads seem to spawn out of my oddball signature lines, which I change whenever the mood for a side comment strikes me. In those cases, they may last for just a few thoroughly off-topic responses. But when any of a certain select few repeat offenders such as Erica purposely starts a thread that's silly, the thread takes on a life of its own and can go like wildfire, the result of the good nature and rampant creativity of the list members. One thread even spawned its own web site (with the help of a friendly web developer) for our imaginings regarding development of the most epic fail convention ever. This time around, Erica decided to go for a more laid-back approach to the silliness, and suggested "MehCon," with the memorable motto "The Premiere Whatever" suggested by artist and friend Mari Kurisato. It's not designed to be an epic fail con, because we can't be bothered to put that much work into failing. We plan to have some kind of costume contest, if the person running it remembers to bring the boxes of stuff from her garage, and if someone passes out so we can dress them up, but otherwise we might just draw on them because we forgot to order any registration materials. I'm thinking Naruto headbands. Someone might do an AMV contest but we're not sure because we have all these discs, and they only brought a VCR. I'm in charge of guests if any show up.  I think I have some power bars I can feed them.

We like to occasionally flesh out one of these manically devolved conventions. I envision these as an "action figure" set of self-destruction conventions. EpicfailCon, WhateverCon.  The SevereDramaandPoliticsCon would definitely need its own action toy in the line. Possibly one for DeludaCon, all smiles while it's bleeding to death. Wait! You can buy badges for 80% off today only! What do you mean the hotel canceled our contract? Um... ok, we can do it in the parking lot then....

The convention mailing list in general has a lovely high tone, a dedicated community happy to help even people asking the same question that was already asked thirty times, and a lot of really useful information on everything from licensing and permissions to hotel contracts and tax concerns (and that's just this week). It's a public list and even those who do not manage cons sometimes join just to see what the heck we talk about. I do generally try to give useful input to these conversations, and have occasionally sent a baby con manager a six-page answer to a single-line question. I value the serious information on the list greatly, and value the massive combined experience, talent and savvy of the convention members, and I must note there are many, many times when I restrain the urge to post a silly aside for fear that I'll drag the whole list off the rails again.

But at least once a quarter there *ought* to be silliness, and at least once a year it ought to be a seriously dedicated level of silliness, and I am pleased as punch to contribute. I'm not sure whether it's influenced by Spring Fever, and I can't say this is even a tendency to want to draw attention to myself. It's a sheerly irrational determination to enjoy those opportunities for whimsical nonsense. Because really, when all the contracts are signed and the guests are scheduled and the banners are hung, we're running anime cons.

And that is a truly silly thing. We can get as serious as we want about vendor verbiage, but there is a person pogoing by in a banana suit even as we strike sub-paragraph three. And the fact that there is a person pogoing by in a banana suit is an excellent example of the reason anime cons ought to exist in the first place.

I believe the impulse to silliness is one of the highest impulses in human nature. Like the nurturing impulse it is a deep-seated lure to share the most harmless and pleasant method of communicating with and sharing with other beings. The urge to giggle together is a delightful and very healthy way of connecting with all of humanity (and sometimes, dogs, dolphins, horses and birds too).

This belief shows in the way I program for conventions, with panels on the internment camps in the U.S. during WWII or Japanese translation leavened by sessions like the Anime Olympics (racing wind-up hopping hedgehogs the participants are only allowed to touch with flyswatters). Seriousness is a valuable and important and, well, serious, contributor to all of our sociocultural achievements. And learning is ingrained, expanded upon, and seen more completely when looked at through the looking glass of humor. We learn what we do and we do what we love. The two should be well entangled.