An Open Letter

All politicians are corrupt. (Except maybe Bernie Sanders). As someone who used to be a conscientious non-voter, and who doesn't feel that ANY part of the mainstream reflects my personal values, I'm the last person to come out of the woodwork and tell you, THIS politician is different. But he is.

I mean, just on a superficial level, it's a bad look for the country. If you can't see that, then you're clearly biased. But it doesn't stop there. He poses a threat to national security, and the very system our country is based on. But that's not even the part that motivates me to speak out. I have my issues with the Democratic platform, but I detest Republican values even more. THAT'S not even the reason I'm in distress.

No matter what your beliefs are, or what you THINK Trump stands for, what scares me is the little people that feel empowered by having this doofus in the White House. You might not see them, living in your upscale suburban neighborhood or gated community. But I'm out here in the country, and I'm surrounded by them.

People with hatred in their hearts. People who aren't smart enough, or empathetic enough to curb their impulses. People who carry guns and are just looking for an excuse to use them. People who can't understand anyone that doesn't look like them, and who hate and fear anything they don't understand.

You're not one of those people. I know that. But in casting your lot with Trump, you're empowering those people. You're helping to give THEM a platform. And that's fucking scary.

Maybe you're not the target they're gunning for. You're not a minority. You're white. You're straight. You're male. You've got it made. But I know for a FACT that you have people you love who do fall into those categories that these people are out to destroy.

And it breaks my heart that you're helping them to do that. I hate to think that you're dumb enough or ignorant enough or brainwashed enough not to realize it, but the alternative - that you actually agree that people like me shouldn't exist - is even harder to stomach.

This country is SUPPOSED to be founded on liberty - the freedom to make our own choices in life, and pursue happiness in our own individual ways, while sharing the same rights and protections as everyone else. That's what America stands for. And that is NOT what Trump symbolizes.

Congratulations. You got lucky. Or you worked hard. You've made it. Does that give you the right to step on the necks of everybody else less fortunate than you? What a role model you are.

Omega Level Threat

I wish that everyone who voted for Trump out of ignorance and, hard as it is for me to say this, "good faith" had a candidate that stood for the particular issues they care about, instead of this seditious buffoon. I'm sure I'd still disagree and vote against this candidate, but at least then we'd restore some dignity to our politics.

Even if I had allowed myself to be hoodwinked into thinking Trump cared about the things I care about (like free speech and dismantling the system - but if you think a Republican regime with Trump at its helm is going to serve your interests, then you're dangerously naive), I still wouldn't support him for office of the president. He's a global embarrassment to our country. The only thing more embarrassing is that a majority of "we, the people" are dumb enough to throw their MAGA hats into his ring.

You don't have to put on Jackboots to be a Nazi. Handing power to the party is enough. Hell, stepping aside and letting them march in the streets is tantamount to support. I spent 18 years of my adult life believing that engaging in partisan politics was pointless. So believe me, I get it. But for those 14 million of you (only half of which would have been enough to defeat Trump) who thought, "Harris isn't great, might as well be Trump" - you're not paying attention. And the cost of freedom is eternal vigilance.

We've always had a "lesser evil" system of governance. And it's made little difference which brand of evil rises to the top. But if you can't recognize an omega level threat when it comes along, then you deserve what you're all about to get. I just wish you hadn't thrown the rest of us under the bus.

Crapshoot

My high school astronomy teacher's motto was "if it's worth doing, it's worth doing right." I live by that philosophy, but mostly because I'm terrified of making mistakes and being judged for them. Regardless, the result is that I'm meticulous. I'm not dumb, but I'm a slow learner - because when I learn things, I learn them deep. I sit back and observe, absorbing and understanding, until I feel confident to step up. And where does it get me? Nowhere. Some half-brained ape gets all the opportunities and fumbles into success while the perfection and precision I've made painstaking effort to accomplish goes completely ignored. So much of what I was taught, and how I've conceived of the world from a young age, was a lie. I look for order, reason, and justice. There is none. Meritocracy is a fantasy. Life is a crapshoot; there is no skill more valuable than luck. And it's not something you can build or train or learn.

Coming Soon

In 1970, Dino Valenti sung, "I believe the revolution must be mighty close at hand." That was over 50 years ago. At what point does it start sounding like religious fundamentalists crying that "Jesus is coming soon"? I'm not anti-progress, but I don't want to be a hypocrite ("it works for me, but not for thee"), and I also don't want to be sitting around til my dying day banking on a fantasy that's not going to come true. Yes, we should live each day as if it were our last, and hold true to our principles, while working towards a better future - if not for ourselves, then for those who come after us. Absolutely. But we should also have perspective, and temper our idealism with reality. I don't want to live a life of delusion.

Scratching an Itch

I have very little experience with addiction (just putting that out there), but I liken chemical dependancy to creating an itch. It puts you in a bind, because not scratching can be maddening. But while scratching the itch might feel incredible, it only exacerbates the problem - until you're scratching your arm off, raw and bloody. Wouldn't it be better not to have the itch in the first place? I don't miss the scratching after the mosquito bite has healed. In fact, I don't even think about it. Because there's no itch. So why would I consciously put myself in that position?

Birthday Candles on the Funeral Pyre

To anyone who's known me, and wondered why I'm always so tight-lipped and mysterious - even going back to my childhood - it's 100% a symptom of my anxiety. I'm terrified of being judged, even for the stupidest little things. But the older I get, the more I'm getting tired of hiding. It seems to me that with every candle that gets added to your birthday cake, that's one less fuck to give - in my case, about upsetting the people who don't appreciate who I am and what I represent. What's the point of even living, if you never get the chance to be yourself, and let people get to know the real you?

I'm not saying that's an excuse to be an asshole, or a criminal, but that's never been my personality anyway. I'm just tired of walking on my tippy toes around conservatives and conformists who don't like the way I dress, who are insecure of their own sexuality, who are afraid of the human body in a way that is patently sexist, and who want to legislate away my access to health care, my prospects for a fulfilling (if not lucrative) career in the erotic arts, and my ability to pursue the activities that bring me happiness.

The longer I live, the more likely it's going to be that I'll piss off the wrong person, and experience harassment, be violently attacked (I don't know why conservatives are so intimidated by liberals, because my fear is literally that a conservative will pull out a gun and shoot me), or run afoul of a power-drunk fascist with a badge. Not because I'm a villain or I want to hurt anyone. But because I'm different. And people don't understand that. Maybe they would understand better if I expressed myself more. But that's really hard to do when it feels like doing so puts an enormous target on your chest. So much for freedom of speech.

I know it's the nature of anxiety to exaggerate one's fears, and I wonder sometimes if I have a habit of externalizing my own limitations - because it's easier to blame someone else for holding you back than to break through the blockage in your own mind. The truth is, I'm more afraid of self-criticism (on Bojack Horseman, I related to "Stupid Piece of Shit" more than the depression and the alcoholism) than I am of any low IQ, middle school-educated, gun-toting, Trump-flag waving, ape in human clothing.

Maybe I'm just getting bored of this lifestyle of hiding all the time, and want to shake things up, come what may. But I can tell you that the more radicalized the conservative segment of our culture becomes, the more emboldened it makes me, and the less willing I am to capitulate to their fragile sensibilities in order to avoid making waves. The louder you spew hatred, the more I want to shove the thing you hate in your face, no matter the danger to myself. The time for diplomacy is over. You can kill me, but you'll never change who I am. There exists a line that, when crossed, disenfranchised minorities will be willing to lay down even their lives for justice. And dangerous though that may be, it could be argued that keeping them pacified in their disenfranchisement is the more insidious alternative.

All of this was covered in Stellan Skarsgård's speech in Andor. I've also likened it in the past to the character of the donkey in Animal Farm. He's intelligent. He just wants to lead a simple life on the farm. As far as he's concerned, the new boss is same as the old boss. Until the animals let the pigs load up the horses for the glue factory, thinking they're just going to the hospital - because they literally can't read the writing on the wall (or the side of the truck). And the donkey loses it - he just can't keep silent any longer. It's why all wise men fear the anger of a patient man. And I'm starting to get angry. With each step I take toward my own grave, I have a little bit less to lose. And there's still so, so much to be gained.

Tekko '24

As it turns out, the weekend of Tekko coincides with Picklesburgh - a surprisingly popular pickle-themed festival that takes place in downtown Pittsburgh. We learned this on Friday, walking through Market Square. As we sat in Five Guys eating lunch, it was just a constant stream of people passing the window - wearing green, carrying pickle-shaped balloons, and eating pickles on sticks. There was also a baseball game on Saturday - all of this probably explaining why we were completely unable to find a hotel room in the city for the weekend.

As such, we were stuck booking a room last minute at a Motel Sux outside of town. We'd stayed there before - in the days of Tekkosnowcon - but either our standards had risen, or the place has gone to shit, because it was a hellhole. You can't even walk up to the front desk - you have to talk to the concierge through a tiny plate of glass in the wall. Our room reeked of cigarettes, had drug paraphernalia under the bed, the shower leaked all over the bathroom (and was just generally cramped, with no shelves for soap or shampoo), the sink was clogged, and the air conditioner had two settings - off, and refrigerator.

I was so cold the first night, I woke up at 7:30 in the morning and drove to Walmart to buy a blanket (the motel's blankets were paper thin, so asking for extras would have been pointless), a hair dryer (I had to sleep with damp hair on top of everything else - because I thought my hair dryer was busted, but it turned out that it was just the outlet that didn't work...), and a box of assorted donuts (like my dad used to provide at Pinewood Resort), and got back before anyone else was up. Which, if you know me, is pretty rare. On the other hand, the weather was gorgeous all weekend. Warm and dry - lots of sun to soak up on the roof of the convention center, and balmy evenings to sit out on the deck under a full moon. Perfect conditions, as luck would have it, to walk around half naked.

On that subject, the official theme of this year's convention was "the beach episode" - a common trope in anime that is used (often to both humorous and titillating effect) as an excuse to depict a show's characters in various forms of swimwear. It's the anime equivalent of a swimsuit issue with some comedy sprinkled in. Imagine my excitement when I heard about this after the con last year - I pulled out all my skimpiest cosplays, even bringing a couple from pre-COVID times out of retirement. But if anyone else knew about the theme, it didn't show. Even the badge illustration was disappointing - instead of a cute girl in a bikini, it was an Elegant Gothic Lolita dying of heatstroke (I like the aesthetic of EGL fashion, but my one major complaint is its preoccupation with modesty). What's more, the AMV that won the award in the "convention theme" category didn't even feature a single swimsuit!

But that didn't stop me from pretending I was at the beach. On Friday I dusted off my Pikachu-in-a-Speedo cosplay. Debuted in 2016, it was retired in 2019 so I could work an a shimmering gold upgrade - Shiny Pikachu. But my lack of talent with a sewing machine (it was one of only two classes I ever got a D in - the other being Quantum Mechanics) has slowed me down. Hopefully the thrill of going to conventions again (after the COVID hiatus) will motivate me to get it finished - ideally by next year. When some guy in a three-layer military-inspired cosplay made a point to tell me I was the least-dressed person at the convention, I thought to myself, "mission accomplished!"

On Saturday, I brought out my homemade Slave Leia cosplay again for the second year (I figure the opening to Return of the Jedi is as close to a beach episode as Star Wars gets). It received a lot of praise, although it goes to show the generation gap that I was called Padme more than once... >.> At one point, a Guts cosplayer told me he loved my cosplay (the feeling was mutual), and that he had to get a picture with me. He even let me hold his sword! I deferred on bringing my lightsaber again this year, but I'm committed to eventually making the evolution to full-blown Jedi Warrior Princess. I just don't like the idea of having to carry it around all day; and I'll have to practice my poses because I know it'll draw more people's attention to me.

On the subject of Berserk, I pulled out my Griffith cosplay for Sunday, inspired by an obscure scene from the '90s series in which the characters wash up beside a well - essentially the medieval version of a beach episode. One of the highlights of the weekend was at the very end, as I was taking some final pictures at the water wall on the way to the car. Another cosplayer not only recognized the character I was [barely] dressed as, but also the precise scene I was depicting! It's rare, but moments like that - when you can share in an obscure fandom with complete strangers - really make you feel seen and appreciated.

It's part of the reason I still enjoy going to Tekko all these years later, and why I'm always reluctant to leave at the end of the day/weekend (and why it annoys me when somebody asks "what's the point of going on Sunday?"). I can't say if this is true of anime conventions in general, but Tekko is extraordinarily welcoming to queer and neurodivergent populations. This year, they had ALL the bathrooms re-labeled to be gender neutral - proving that utopia is surprisingly easy to accomplish, if we could only agree to be decent to one another from the outset. And jettison the poisonous belief that people deserve to suffer just because they look or act different than we expect them to. Come on, people, it really isn't that hard.

The sheer creativity and imagination on display in terms of people's fashions, coupled with the camaraderie and shared passion of an entire subculture dedicated to a specific entertainment medium, is all so intoxicatingly refreshing. This is what I want the rest of the world to be like all the time - people being free, and feeling comfortable, to express themselves without fear of judgment or derision. So many colorful personalities get drowned out and stomped on by the suffocating boundaries of conventional society. You can peel off your human disguise and be the fabulous alien you are - if just for a few days. It doesn't sound like much, but like a drop of water in the desert, it's a precious and valued resource.

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Now then, what did I miss?

When we arrived at the convention center on Thursday to pick up our badges, the line was wrapped around three sides of the building! It's the first time I've seen that at Tekko, and reminded me of the lines at Otakon twenty years ago. Official attendance was just over 10,000, which is nearly back up to the level of 2019, before COVID struck.

Although prices in the Exhibition Hall (formerly: Dealer's Room) tend to be high, I was delighted to find not one, but two figures I liked that were reasonably priced ($30 and under!). Both are from the hit series That Time I Got Reincarnated As A Slime. Last year, Milim figures were way over-priced, so I'm happy to finally get one! And I also found a Raphael figure that I like even better than the one I already have.

I also bought another erotic art book in Onii-chan's Hentai Room. It was a bit expensive, but I'm willing to patronize quality artistic erotica. Although, I'm quickly depleting their stock of materials that appeal to my refined tastes. (I don't know what the otaku obsession with monster-sized boobs is, but I could do without it).

Programming was dull as usual. They don't print out schedules anymore, and they're a pain to read on your phone. I scrolled through it the first night, and literally nothing popped out at me. I actually think it's easier that way. You can just divide your time between the Exhibition Hall, meals, people-watching, and taking photos, without having to rush to panels at particular times, and coordinating with the other people you're with. There's always so much going on at cons, no matter what you do, you're going to miss something. I just don't understand why they have to schedule the AMV Awards and Closing Ceremonies at the same time on Sunday...

Photo meetups seemed to be a big thing this year. I never really bothered with them, but I'm thinking that maybe next year I might actually look for a Pokémon or a Star Wars meetup. It's a toss-up, because I'd love to get more attention and recognition for my cosplays, but it would also be a lot of stress interacting with so many people. Plus, not everyone appreciates my less-is-more approach. I don't care about the haters - I do it for myself first and foremost, and there are always a few con-goers who pop out of the woodwork to thank me for my courage and inspiration, which makes it all worth it. But I also don't want to shove it down anybody's throat. So I don't know.

Can't wait for next year! It was great having my brother back at the con with us again. I know cosplay promises (my own included) are flimsy at best, but there's a lot to look forward to seeing next year! (Crafting ambitions burn brightest right after attending a con; I just hope I can hold onto that fire long enough to get the work done). We're probably going to shuffle the deck and bring some different kids next time, to give someone else a chance to experience the magic. Whatever happens, I can be pretty sure I'll be there and having a blast again. I've already got my ticket!