OK.
There's this series of books, right? They're by this British lady who wrote the first novel - or so the story goes - on cocktail napkins in a pub.
They're for kids.
They're about wizards.
Have you guessed that I'm talking about the Harry Potter books yet?
Right.
Now, I've read them, and seen a couple of the movies; they're good entertainment for kids.
But out there...
...Out THERE, in the world, there's a disturbing, secretive subculture.
Fans.
Fans come in all varieties - I admit to being one (for Firefly) - but some are more disturbing than others.
I, for example, really liked the Firefly TV show, and the movie (Serenity) which concluded the series; I bought both on DVD. I quote the show occasionally, and look for cast members in other shows.
But I don't go to conventions.
"Real" fans go to conventions.
Conventions are a horror that should not be beheld.
...Don't worry, I am totally going to torture you. Get the eye - and brain - bleach ready to wipe out the flood of horror. This post is like a slippery slope into OMGWTF, so brace yourself.
...Back up a bit.
Let's start with my friend.
I have a friend named Kelli. Kelli is smart, funny, and full of awesomely weird comments. Kelli is one of my favorite people, and I spend more time yakking with her than with almost anyone else.
Kelli is a fan.
Kelli is a Harry Potter fan.
Kelli is a fan who goes to conventions.
This is Kelli with... errr... Voldemort.
Now, I love Kelli to pieces; she's a complete sweetheart.
She TOLD me to post this blog. She said "I will laugh while you mock Potter fans."
...I said, "you will hate me, so VERY much."
...Got my marching orders anyway. You asked for it.
Believe it or not, there is something about the Harry Potter books that makes people willing to spend $189 a night to stay in a not-as-advertised hotel room over a long weekend thousands of miles from home, to wear costumes from the books,
pose awkwardly,
...and, errr....
Hey, wait a sec, Potter gear aside, a couple of those girls are kinda cute... more on this later.
So, right, Kelli just went to a convention, from which I got dozens of text messages detailing things she thought were cool.
Not cool.
Lame.
Frighteningly, unendurably, terrifyingly lame.
PARALYTICALLY, APOCALYPTICALLY LAME.
...OK, there were a COUPLE of things that were pretty funny.
Yes, those two statues are doing what you think they're doing.
Well, Michelle likes the statue, anyway, so that's a relief.
Errr, wait. That's not a relief. That's... so very, very wrong.
But Wait, There's More!™
Kelli paid $189 a night to stay at the Boston Park Plaza hotel, which has a pretty lobby,
rooms that look like a Best Western with better wallpaper,
...a roommate, although I note you two are doing it wrong, because I seem to remember something about Gryffindors supposedly being enemies of Slytherins, and you two giant Potter dorks should know this,
...and fans.
Lots of fans.
Lots of whom are fairly presentable girls.
...who make homemade Potter-themed T-shirts, and try to throw Xbox games in such a way that they can be captured by camera to look like a levitation spell.
Did I mention these people are lame?
But Wait, There's More!™
These are people who have a capella concerts to sing Harry Potter songs, in costume.
I bet you thought I was kidding. You should know better by now.
But Wait, There's More!™
Some of these fans, these troglodytic, lame, deranged fans who think it's cool to go to conventions for a children's book - sans kids - in their late 20's and early 30's, can - sort of - play instruments.
Which means they form bands.
They form bands that play themed music.
Prepare yourself for horror.
They call this monstrosity "wizard rock."
Yes, that's a guy in a squid costume. I didn't know there were any giant squid to be found in the Harry Potter books, but ok.
They take this stuff waaaaaaaay too seriously.
Allow me to make a momentary interjection here, and point out that that is shudderingly, horrifyingly terrible. The giant squid passed out cooked bacon to the crowd..
*twitch*
But Wait, There's More!™
Right. They took video.
*Ohnoes*
Oh...
My...
God...
...Words fail me.
Ok, no they don't. That was an astonishing display of the inherent Brownian motion (look it up,) of nerd herds, a vast petri dish full of some strange, extraterrestrial species of pseudohuman, built as prototypes only possible in societies with too much free time and liquid capital.
*Watches nerd girls awkwardly bounce up and down like jackrabbits doing alternating spy hops*
Lots of girls, though.
Shy, reclusive, emotionally vulnerable girls. (My wife smacked my wrist and said "No!")
I was informed that I am going to be dragged "one day" to one of these conventions. I replied that - based on my nature, and the seemingly endless supply of lame, but otherwise passable if socially inept females, taking me to a convention was a BAD idea.
Kelli told me, "you have to be careful, or you'll get thrown out of the con."
I replied that I would have a T-shirt made that read "I GOT THROWN OUT OF A HARRY POTTER CONVENTION."
So, there's my friend (on the right.). At a Potter Con. Making "rock fingers" at a band called "Swish and Flick."
You cannot make this shit up, I'm telling you.
...I wonder if there are that many girls at Firefly conventions?
