I smell fake butter and sweat. Forty-year-old men who are romantically involved with unicorns dart left and right.
There are lots of stigmas around Comic Con, but I found it very enlightening. Well, once I got past retching. I had the privilege to see a nerd so passionate, he started crying at the sight of Joss Whedon. With fake geek girls, “Bronies” and those snooty cosplayers (aka “costume players”), the only word I can use to describe Comic Con is an…experience.
Fake geek girls. Let’s be honest: they don’t exist. Since when can girls not like comics? Since when is it comic nerds’ job to judge girls who like comics? Since when are 15-year-old girls cosplaying to impress a 40-year-old fedora? It’s gross and self-centered. Nobody’s trying to impress you, believe me. Why would you go out of your way to make somebody feel bad about the thing they like, just because they’re female?
And then…Bronies. They, for some disgusting reason, have crushes on ponies. My Little Ponies. You know, a show for children. Why are you attracted to PONIES?! That, my ridiculous friend, is called bestiality. Gross. With all your inappropriate art, you’re making it unsafe for little girls to google “My Little Pony.”
Dear all snooty cosplayers: I AM 13 YEARS OLD AND HAVE A BUDGET OF $8 A WEEK. I CANNOT SPEND IT ON AN INSANE COSTUME FOR SOME OBSCURE CHARACTER. Stop assuming we all know what you are. We don’t. We don’t all watch bad anime. And I like comics! So stop telling me I should cosplay. Excuse you, I’m cosplaying as myself. Boom. I like my jeans and t-shirt; I’m not wearing a latex bikini. Duh.
Anyway, this was Comic Con. Or at least, the terrible bits.
Read more with the Beginner’s Guide to Comic Con by Dru’ Pinder