So, this Las Pegasus Unicon brony convention meltdown thing.|
I can't help wondering if the "real" problem is that a lot of bronies don't really seem to have much past experience with being in fandom, or something, and don't/didn't get that setting up a convention is kind of a big deal. Because, seriously, there seem to have been so many red flags going in to this that it's sort of astonishing that it seems only to be drawing notice now.
I mean... first year convention, calling in two dozen pro guests? Claiming they expect about 2,000 attendees, but have room for 10,000?
No. Right there, your costs are already out of hand, and possibly out of control. That's an expensive rack of attendance fees, and you are spending way, WAY too much on your venue.
Add in vendors expected to accept a con-specific fake currency with not even a contract to back it up that was also hand-drawn and who apparently accepted that and, wow, bronies. Your trust is kind of touching, adorable in the way the faith of small children is adorable, but... aren't most of you supposed to be grown men?
Tara Strong, unpaid pro guest at the con, said on twitter that the organisers had ruined it for all first year cons, but no first year con should really be attempting this kind of scale of event, so I'm not sure I agree, really.
Sooooo earlier I was in the shower, and |I had an idea velithya totally came upstairs entirely uncalled by me because this is all her fault I swear and in no way did I initiate the conversation.
(Under no circumstances should anyone believe her if she claims that I called her name, she thought I might have fallen and hurt myself, and I didn't hear her asking if I was okay, so she came upstairs to check on me, after which I insisted she hear my crazy idea and help me cast the roles.)
My idea: Teen Wolf ~fusion~ with: RuPaul's Drag Race!
Lydia Martin is a guest judge. The contestants (I haven't really worked out all the drag names or anything yet):
Greenberg (who was eliminated early but recalled because Santino and Michelle thought he might have had more potential)
W.I.L.F. - Wolf I'd Like to Frock
Jackson wins the mini-challenge, and gets to assign the werewolves to the other queens. The assignments go as follows:
Derek Hale, being big, super-masculine-seeming and hairy, is assigned to Stiles, because Jackson hate Stiles, obvs.
Scott, who has reasonable potential for pretty, gets assigned to Danny, because Jackson and Danny are BFFs.
Boyd goes to Greenberg, who will fail hilariously, while Boyd will be stoic in the face of terribleness, and will ~turn it out~ during the musical number. (velithya has suggested "She Wolf" by
Shakira David Getta feat. Sia. I haven't heard it, but I assume she knows what she's talking about... *pulls it up*)
She *had* said Shakira, but discovered it was the wrong song when she checked lyrics. Shakira can be the lip synch for your liiiife.
Jackson keeps Isaac for himself, because he's all babyfaced twink and he will think Isaac will be easiest to make pretty. (I was briefly wondering if he'd go for Scott, but that cannot happen, because Scott has to flirt with Danny, LIKE HE ALWAYS DOES.)
Anyway. Mad crack ensues. I just can't decide whether the other guest judge will be Deaton or Ms. Morrell.
(Although Ms. Morrell *is*, imo, canonically the Grownup Who Looks Best In Leather.)
So, velithya and I watched the first two episodes of Person of Interest. I'm kind of undecided on it, still - my summary would be "a bit pretentious, but it has potential" - but I did randomly look at a fic a friend had bookmarked, because it was by a reliably good writer from other fandoms.|
... and I could not, could not get into it, because it featured Reese throwing Harold down onto a couch, quite carelessly and mildly roughly, and seriously? Unless events happen in subsequent episodes that seriously alter Harold's "visibly injured" status, hell no.
Harold limps. That was noted in the fic, so that's something. But Harold *also* can't turn his head. When he looks around, he twists his shoulders awkwardly, holding his neck stiff. I don't know what the injuries were that he received between flashbacks and now, but the way he moves suggests fused vertebra(e)/past broken neck and no, I don't think getting thrown around, even onto a couch, is going to be something that a person who cares at all about him, or isn't actively trying to cause him pain, should do.
So, I have invitations available for things.|
I have lots. Lots. Comment here if you want one; if you want one and I don't know you, at all, even slightly, that's okay, but I'm more likely to get past my "Wait, what? Who is this person how did they what?" moment and actually send you one if you mention how it is you came across my journal and my invitations offer. (As in, I will be pretty much guaranteed to do so, whereas if it's totally random-seeming I get all disconcerted and yet never get around to replying to your comment to ask, historically.)
If you know someone who wants one, also feel free to send 'em over, just, see previous paragraph!
If LJ keeps getting more and more creepy/evil, I may kill mine altogether. Note to self: Time to get around to adding LJ-people you actually want to read to Dreamwidth reading list.
This has invitations? I don't know if I ever knew that. Anyway, I have one available. As I only have one, I'd prefer to give this to someone I know.
Also, clearly, I should start putting my stuff there. So many services on which I'm behind in that kind of thing...
At some point soon I need to write a squee post about Leverage, because at least some shows are actually awesome.|
The latest round of fail has hit. Many people have commented, in detail and with eloquence; I don't have much to add that will be particularly new, I think, but... you know. If nothing else, I think the more voices in opposition to this kind of thing, the better.
I am bemused by this one, though. There's a mindset in play that I just don't understand - seeing tragedy, real tragedy, unfold and reacting with the thought that it's just an irresistably good background for a fanfic. The lack of empathy is astounding. The arrogance - thinking that she could do that, and do it in good taste, or is it just that it didn't occur to her to tread carefully at all? I don't understand.
Or does suffering just not count unless it happens to people like her?
Because try as I might to think the best of this, because I always want to think the best of people, I can't. Someone said, "Racism aside, it's just tacky." Which, it is, it is tacky as half-dried superglue but this racism is a stain that just won't come out. It seeps through the text - I looked - and it's woven too deep in the premise, because at the bottom of it all is that to her, the Haitians aren't people. They're props.
If they were people, this story couldn't exist, because it would be too riven with pain for the bright, shiny romance to come through at all.
There's just no excuse for that.