It has been a number of days since I last wrote. And that's partially because I have been rather busy. But also because what I want to write about is more than a little close to those tender spots where I have to recognize my mortality, and my lack of control.
Video games have, by their nature, a way of bending this. The ability to redo actions and solve problems, they are an artform of agency. Interactive as opposed to passive. They are not good training devices as how to properly handle events like serial bombings terrorizing your city. They've not tapped the otherworldly feel of driving past wreckage where you know a murderer died on your way to work. The alien nature of TV crews along side the road you normally and manually take to your job. They don't quite capture the emotion, not one of vengeance, but of mild annoyance and fear. A fearnnoyance.
Good then, that the month of march ended with a haven for the queer kids.
Havencon was mentioned on this site before. And it is quite a cute little con compared to TFF or Akon or even the monstrosity that Ikkicon has become. But it has a special flavor where you can see fursuits, portraits of the golden girls painted as Hogwarts members (With Betty White as of course Hufflepuff) and a crossplay of the metropolis robot with a studded bra, not just in the same night. But in the same room. (By the way to the gal who played Ripley from all of the aliens movies in a progression of on stage costume changes, and only managed to get nd place in the cosplay contest. You were robbed)
Havencon was renewed for another year. Because the guy who ran it finally realized that it's not just him who can run it. And that's good. I hope he remembers that. Because as the name implies, it's not about him. It's about all of us queer kids in Texas having a bit of a haven. While Austin has been a nice bubble for me, I know that there's a few who haven't been so lucky in my state.
I'll be there next year. Because while the Obama era queer kids are better. The Trump Era ones could always use a bit of hope. Not that looking at my fat ass gives one much to hope for.