Earth swaying under my feet - a cruise
Less poetically, I'll say I just got back from a JOCO cruise (a convention within a cruise) and had a great time.
More elliptically as is my wont…
In odd moments, I close my eyes and the ocean still dips beneath me. I know this feeling will recede. It already is. Much as my time on the JOCO con/cruise recedes into the past. An experience defined by the wonderful friendly people who made up its component parts. Oh, sorry, SeaMonkeys, who brought a server so we could have Twitarr on board. A combination science fiction convention, island vacation, concert venue, and… something else. It has a definite culture all its own. With in jokes. That even if they were explained wouldn't be as meaningful. But that's fine. New memes are always created.
It's like everyone constantly using the word div in the last year. It took me weeks to div out what the word div meant. As I listen to the History of English podcast, I wonder where it comes from. But I digress.
There were lots of panels.
Imogen Heap gave a performance that went something like this
There was an amazing David Bowie tribute. Each performer picking out their favorite songs and singing into the crowd.
Jonathan Coulton singing Code Monkey or urging the people in zombie like thrall across the dance floor.
Too much to list.
I missed things. I went to other things. I think if I did it again, I'd have sought out more Shadow Cruise events. Maybe something about fanfiction and we who read/write it. Fan art. Or perhaps just checked to see if anyone wanted to do a Buffy the Vampire Slayer (or Dr. Horrible) sing along. Because I'm not listening to
Hamilton until I see it. I'm the sort where it's the story that will give it meaning.
Oh, there were stops on islands: Bahamas, US Virgin Islands, Sint Maarten. I swam with sting rays. I snorkeled. I walked powder fine beaches. I passed my fellow wonderful wierdos rejoicing in our oddities. No shame in our joys, just smiles. Either casual nods or quick fire conversations.
I listened to writers read from their work. N. K. Jamieson wins top honors for putting up with the most interruptions during her reading. It was unfortunately at the same time as a crew training drill. Nothing quite like having a writer reach a dramatic pause and hearing over the loudspeakers "Bravo, Bravo, Bravo," or some such breaking up the drive of the story, and yet, she willed on to everyone's delight. We bravoed her through the rest of the week.
Also, for her great graciousness for answering a number of questions about diversity from her largely white audience during her office hours discussion. Although, I think only a few of us had already heard of Kyriarchy or RaceFail, which since Jemisin already summed sum of it up, I'll link to her rather than fandomwank.
Now a few more have heard of them. Though to digress, thinking on whatever dabble I've done always makes me think of a hiking trip I went on with my father years ago up Mount Baldy in the greater LA area. We'd climbed a ways up and I looked back down over the stunted trees and shale clinging scrub. I could see the city below was under a sullen haze of smog, and I was glad to be above it. We climbed further and I looked back, only to see that the haze had thickened and realized I hadn't been above anything. The trees were still stunted and only the heartiest of weeds clung to the soil. I was glad that I was now above the haze. We hiked still farther and as I looked back, the air below was thicker yet. I looked up the mountain and there were no tall trees. No vibrant green. Just stunted growth and stone. The bald cap of the mountain had a smear of haze over it. I knew I wasn't going to be climbing above the air that I was breathing.
Which reminds me, we ended the trip on a visit to Cape Canaveral, which was amazing. To see the rocket garden. To really see the size of a Titan V rocket. That we built such a thing with such tiny pockets of air to carry people to the moon. That the largest of rockets wasn't built to bomb, but to achieve something amazing. Oh, it was a cold war thing, and yet… we went to the moon. Because it was hard. Also, hard on our tour guide, who kept being corrected by the knowledgeable geeks in our group.
Naturally, I wrote a fic To Sail the Comet Roads - A Dream
Knowledgeable, friendly. Every SeaMonkey was incredibly friendly. That's why Wil Wheaton gave such a heartfelt request at the end of his office hours asking the community not to change as it grew larger. Next year will be twice as big. An entire ship. I hope they put some of the concerts on the jumbo tron by the pools. Lending to music and conversation. Certainly, I enjoyed every conversation I had. Wished for more.
Laughed with my fellow geeks at John Scalzi's reading and office hours. Oh, the future of our appliances. Huddled close to listen to Patrick Rothfuss.
Really a wonderful experience.
Pictoral evidence
I'm glad we went. Even if the earth is still swaying a bit under my feet.
More elliptically as is my wont…
In odd moments, I close my eyes and the ocean still dips beneath me. I know this feeling will recede. It already is. Much as my time on the JOCO con/cruise recedes into the past. An experience defined by the wonderful friendly people who made up its component parts. Oh, sorry, SeaMonkeys, who brought a server so we could have Twitarr on board. A combination science fiction convention, island vacation, concert venue, and… something else. It has a definite culture all its own. With in jokes. That even if they were explained wouldn't be as meaningful. But that's fine. New memes are always created.
It's like everyone constantly using the word div in the last year. It took me weeks to div out what the word div meant. As I listen to the History of English podcast, I wonder where it comes from. But I digress.
There were lots of panels.
Imogen Heap gave a performance that went something like this
There was an amazing David Bowie tribute. Each performer picking out their favorite songs and singing into the crowd.
Jonathan Coulton singing Code Monkey or urging the people in zombie like thrall across the dance floor.
Too much to list.
I missed things. I went to other things. I think if I did it again, I'd have sought out more Shadow Cruise events. Maybe something about fanfiction and we who read/write it. Fan art. Or perhaps just checked to see if anyone wanted to do a Buffy the Vampire Slayer (or Dr. Horrible) sing along. Because I'm not listening to
Hamilton until I see it. I'm the sort where it's the story that will give it meaning.
Oh, there were stops on islands: Bahamas, US Virgin Islands, Sint Maarten. I swam with sting rays. I snorkeled. I walked powder fine beaches. I passed my fellow wonderful wierdos rejoicing in our oddities. No shame in our joys, just smiles. Either casual nods or quick fire conversations.
I listened to writers read from their work. N. K. Jamieson wins top honors for putting up with the most interruptions during her reading. It was unfortunately at the same time as a crew training drill. Nothing quite like having a writer reach a dramatic pause and hearing over the loudspeakers "Bravo, Bravo, Bravo," or some such breaking up the drive of the story, and yet, she willed on to everyone's delight. We bravoed her through the rest of the week.
Also, for her great graciousness for answering a number of questions about diversity from her largely white audience during her office hours discussion. Although, I think only a few of us had already heard of Kyriarchy or RaceFail, which since Jemisin already summed sum of it up, I'll link to her rather than fandomwank.
Now a few more have heard of them. Though to digress, thinking on whatever dabble I've done always makes me think of a hiking trip I went on with my father years ago up Mount Baldy in the greater LA area. We'd climbed a ways up and I looked back down over the stunted trees and shale clinging scrub. I could see the city below was under a sullen haze of smog, and I was glad to be above it. We climbed further and I looked back, only to see that the haze had thickened and realized I hadn't been above anything. The trees were still stunted and only the heartiest of weeds clung to the soil. I was glad that I was now above the haze. We hiked still farther and as I looked back, the air below was thicker yet. I looked up the mountain and there were no tall trees. No vibrant green. Just stunted growth and stone. The bald cap of the mountain had a smear of haze over it. I knew I wasn't going to be climbing above the air that I was breathing.
Which reminds me, we ended the trip on a visit to Cape Canaveral, which was amazing. To see the rocket garden. To really see the size of a Titan V rocket. That we built such a thing with such tiny pockets of air to carry people to the moon. That the largest of rockets wasn't built to bomb, but to achieve something amazing. Oh, it was a cold war thing, and yet… we went to the moon. Because it was hard. Also, hard on our tour guide, who kept being corrected by the knowledgeable geeks in our group.
Naturally, I wrote a fic To Sail the Comet Roads - A Dream
Knowledgeable, friendly. Every SeaMonkey was incredibly friendly. That's why Wil Wheaton gave such a heartfelt request at the end of his office hours asking the community not to change as it grew larger. Next year will be twice as big. An entire ship. I hope they put some of the concerts on the jumbo tron by the pools. Lending to music and conversation. Certainly, I enjoyed every conversation I had. Wished for more.
Laughed with my fellow geeks at John Scalzi's reading and office hours. Oh, the future of our appliances. Huddled close to listen to Patrick Rothfuss.
Really a wonderful experience.
Pictoral evidence
I'm glad we went. Even if the earth is still swaying a bit under my feet.