Comic Con 2009: Final Thoughts...

There's always a huge let-down when the Con's over. I honestly wondered why my co-workers weren't wearing costumes; I was also keenly aware of the fact that I was no longer in a space where people would understand my various pop culture obsessions or references to them. OTOH, no long lines for *anything* (at least not at work or at home), and no occasional/alarming piercing shrieks of fannish squee.

One thing that really stuck with me about this year's Con was the overall friendliness of everyone I encountered. With very few exceptions, people were happy to chat in line and I met lots of interesting people with crazy life stories that were interesting and funny. There was a great air of comraderie that permeated the convention center; people generally threw up their hands when confronted with insane lines and just let it roll off their backs, settling down with the freebie books and comics to wait their turn. Even with 140,000 people around me, I didn't feel frightened of the crowds because everyone was so pleased to be there and acting peaceably. So, that part of the proceedings was thoroughly enjoyable.

That said, the crowds were so huge that I completely wrote off all the programming in Hall H (the big studio presentations, and the Lost panel, much to my chagrin). I heard people saying several times that they waited and waited for hours, only to discover they couldn't get into Hall H at all. A friend of mine said that he's starting to feel the same way about Ballroom 20, which is a mere 2,000 people compared to Hall H's 7,500. But I could see what he was saying--there was no panel in there that didn't have a HUGE line associated with it, and part of me doesn't/didn't want to squander precious time waiting hours in advance for one panel. I didn't want to "camp out" in one room all day, or overnight outside, for that matter. I'm not sure what the solution to this problem is, but I have a sneaking suspicion that it involves moving the Con somewhere else, which the city of San Diego would rather die than permit, or selling *fewer* tickets, which is not a feasible profit model.

There was one other thing that I really chewed over while I was there: I saw several people carrying handmade signs that basically said, "Twilight ruined Comic Con!" I have very mixed feelings about this statement. On one hand, I am highly unimpressed with Twilight and fear that it's setting up a small part of a generation with very unrealistic and anti-feminist expectations for their romantic relationships. On the other hand, I know what loving something that everyone else despises and ridicules is like, and it's not a happy place to be in. I didn't feel like Twilight was being particularly shoved in my face through the overall Con experience (although the plethora of t-shirts and merchandise was pretty crazy) and for the most part, the TwiHards were pretty innocuous. This said, I wonder if a better sign might read, "Movie studio interest, the urge to commercialize EVERYTHING, and capitalism ruined Comic Con!" Don't get me wrong--I love seeing cool trailers and the Studio booths, but the attention that the presence of Warner Brothers, Fox, Paramount, etc. has brought to Comic Con has undoubtedly been the major catalyst that shifted the focus of the Con from "comics" to "pop culture as a whole". It's great that geeks are getting more credit in pop culture, but with that recognition comes the realization that these are people whose money can be taken. And that's when the reality of the $8 hot dogs and the $100 G.I. Joe dolls sets in.

$100 is also the price that yebisu9 and I each spent to pre-reg for next year's Con. We had too much fun to not do it again, crazy crowds, profiteering studios, and long lines aside. :)

Edit to add: Todd VanDerWerff at The Onion's A.V. Club offers his thoughts on Day 4 and has his own theories on the over-commercialization of the Con and the anti-Twilight guy.

And Fandom Wank chronicles the ever-exploding crazy that is the Torchwood fandom since Children of Earth aired.