Picture this . . . You are driving a rental car. The car comfortably and legally holds five people. There are six people riding in it. One of the passengers is underage and drunk and in the process of peeling her PVC outfit off because she is sweaty from dancing. One of the passengers is overage and holding her. One of the passengers has a pink mohawk. All three of the gentleman in the car are wearing eye make-up and one is wearing lipstick as well. The gentleman in the front seat is puking out the window to chants of "VOMIT ON THE HIPPIES! PROJECTILE VOMIT ON THAT HIPPY!" The deadheads in the next car look unamused. Sounds like fun? Well, buddy-ro, you are in Georgia and there's laws about that sort of thing.
Still, the BLT staff had a very nice time at Dragon Con in Atlanta. A nice time which was admittedly dependent on not getting pulled over driving back from the White Wolf party, but, hey, we didn't get pulled over and my heart rate is entirely back to normal now. Uh, hypothetically, I mean.
Anyway, the con expected 6000 people to come to the Hilton for the weekend. The number actually ended up being closer to 9000. Participants included pin-up artist Olivia, vampire queen Nancy A. Collins, evil filmmaker Joe Christ, Film Threat's Chris Gore, vampire king Scott Ciencin, Nexus's Steve Rude, Razor's Everette Hartsoe, Jim Morrison's widow Patricia Kennealy Morrison, Ren & Stimpy's live band The Screamin' Lederhosen, Ultima's programmer Lord British (whom we accosted with pornography in the elevator -- we swear he forced us!) Illuminati's Steve Jackson, White Wolf artist Timothy Bradstreet (who is currently working on a Henry Rollins project), White Wolf top dogs Mark Rein-Hagen and Stewart Wiek, White Wolf writer William Hale, White Wolf's pro hitman/PR guy Travis Williams and White Wolf's alcohol. And, uhm, a lot of other significant (at least to other people) folks. Seriously, this convention is amazing. There were enough guests to attract people to fifty regular cons. Both nights boasted huge fetish parties with live bands, performance art, and just a dab of on-stage fellatio.
I was born in London. I grew up mostly in New York and I was educated in New England. I blame the society. It is not my fault that I think of Georgia as, uhm, well, ultra-conservative, you know . . . Southern. I did not really expect super-hip and freaky convention attendees in the hotel or cool stores like the fetishland of Throb or the alternative media heaven of Criminal Records in the Little Five Points area. Nor did I expect Georgia's gun laws. There is a town called Kenesaw (sp?) where it is illegal not to have a firearm -- sort of like a seatbelt law i.e. you won't get pulled over for it, but if the police are there for something else, you can get ticketed. At any rate, as near as we could tell, an Atlanta resident could go into a pawn shop on a whim and pick up a fully automatic weapon.
Picture this: You are driving a rental car. Nothing anyone would identify as yours. You and your unsavory pals have just returned from a road trip to Atlanta where you all did some shopping. The rental car's power windows slide down soundlessly. Uh, hypothetically, I mean.
DragonCon: