the bblog

Liveblog: PAX, day 2

1335 hours: Arrived at PAX. Found the classic gaming freeplay room. There is all kinds of neat shit in here. Toploading NESes! Original Pong knockoffs! Right now I'm watching some people suck at N64 Mario Kart.

1410: PAX enforcer asks me about the EEE, bringing the total up to five. We have an awkward conversation about linux.

1630: EEE count six. Representative convention conversation snippet, "Don't you mean irregardless?"

I'm sitting in the North exhibition hall lobby typing this, watching an endless torrent of people flow past. 36 people counted in 20 seconds, which is 6480 people an hour. Mirror's Edge looks interesting in person, but it's kinda hard to figure out who's shooting you, which is bad when you die so easily. Seems to be more cosplayers today; I've seen a Medic, an Engineer, and a Scout so far; as well as the vault 13 Exile, the Riddlier, etc. I've also seen, like, five Enforcers wearing kilts.

There's no paxnet signal here! Guess I'll be moving on.

1716: Ran into Ben! He has changed very little. This is a clever euphromism for "he is still a dick".

I am currently lurking in the Rock Band contest room, which has an oddly high concentration of women. I guess even virtual rockers get the girls.

Apparently they are a band, and I am a evil sexist.

All the drummers remove their right shoe, for the kick drum; either to keep from destroying the controller or for greater control.

EEE count seven, or perhaps 6.5, since it was more of a passing mention this time.

A dance fight has broken out! The power of Rock has possesed the bystanders.

1727: This drummer has gone entirely barefoot.

1840: Street Fighter: The Movie: The Video Game! It's just like the Street Fighter game, only based on the movie that's based on it.

1903: Waiting in line for the Saturday Night Concerts.

1904: The adhesive tag on the concert wristband has attached itself to my arm hairs.

1905: Tearing it off now.

1906: My neighbors are expressing concern for the little girl who seems to be crying in their immediate vicinity. I try to ignore their jeers.

1955: A neighbor wanders by me to interrogate a fellow outside of my field of vision who has been typing ryhmically for the last twenty minutes. I turn around to spectate, and discover him to be holding the keyboard in an inverted posistion, gripping it by the first five function keys. I correctly identify him as playing Frets On Fire, to general hilarity.

2100: Ladies and gentlemen, the Sex Generals!

2101: They suck! But the crowd loves them anyway!

2117: After them came the two Omeganaut teams, Omegadeath and School Of Hard Cocks, both playing the Eye Of The Tiger. Omegadeath went first, so they were fresh, but the Hard Cock's drummer threw his sticks into the crowd! And, presumably, blinded someone. Omegadeath wins! This is what comes from having a penis-based band name.

2121: At least it isn't taking them too long to change equipment.

2122: It occurs to me that this is the first concert I have ever attended. A rite of passage! Rather, a rite of deafness.

2125: We hear a guitar note from behind the curtain, and me and the three nerds near me start going "Uhp! Uhp! Uhp!" in unison. lol hive mind.

Everyone has sat down and pulled out portible electronic devices.

2128: Dude next to me retrived one of the Hard Cock's drumstricks from the eye socket of a bystander, and is now tapping it on the floor. I contemplate murder.

2130: A chiptunes/rock fusion band (consulting my program, I discover that they call themselves "Anamanaguchi") has taken the stage. They are loud!

2131: They are so loud that, whatever they are playing, is reduced to a jagged crash of distored guitars and hideiously piecing tones. I listen to loud, angry music professionally, and yet I cannot tolerate this. My "rite of deafness" joke is proving unplesantly prophetic.

2135: I have retreated to the farthest corner of the theater, and they are still intelerably loud. Covering both ears with my hands reduces this to merely crushing level of loudness. It is now offical: I am a woman.

2144: I have fled the venue, determined to return when Frontalot shows up.

2158: Ben shows up to complain about the loudness. A fellow woman!

2202: An actual female girl has shown up to comisserate. Ben expounds upon his "square wave" theory.

2204: <&QuiQafooQey> i refuse to read your blog until the sentence "QuiQafooQey is a greek god" has been uploaded into it.

QuiQafooQey is a greek god. Specifically, the Greek god of homsexuality.

Ben and this girl are actually conversing, in a civil manner, even. Either she is extraordinarily accomidating, or Ben has mellowed, and I just refuse to see it.

Nahhhh.

0032: Just got off a fucking intense, and apparently hour plus game of Ten Man Bomberman in the classic console freeplay room. Dude from IGN came by and interviewed me while playing, and I probably came off like a moron.

What's Ten Man Bomberman, you ask? Why, it's a Genesis with two multitaps, and ten screaming fiends of men playing it. Is it crazy insane? Fuck yes it is crazy insane!

0033: Side effects of extended bomberman include: Lightheadedness, body chills, and extreme blogginess.

0101: Awright, I'm outta here.

0112: Apparently the bus shows up at 0123, not 0110.

0117: A couple of PAX attendees ask me where they could buy cigarettes at such an hour. Hilarity is shared when I point out that I, too, am a PAX attendee.

Post-PAX debrief: I still haven't actually played any unreleased games, and I waited in line for a couple of hours to almost immediately walk out on the actual event; but I did play a couple of games, and Fun was Had.