DAY 1~FRIDAY
Entry 1: 8:42PM BART, EN ROUTE TO SAN FRANCISCO
I’m riding on a train, led here by my own two feet. It’s amazing,
in retrospect, how simple it is to use public transportation provided
that it exists and the person knows how to use it to his advantage. But
I make no false pretenses as to what is about to transpire: I’m headed
to catch a bus traveling down the state of California, departing San
Francisco and ending my run at the Long Beach Convention Center, the
home of Anime Expo 2007.
Unlike the myriad of crazy, almost intellectually blind fanboys
and fangirls I totally expect to see there, I am traveling without a
goal of having fun. Whether or not I have a good time is
inconsequential; I will do my best to enjoy myself but, at the same
time, remain on the balls of my feet, poised to seize the moment which
has brought me here.
Let me explain: Approximately twenty-four hours ago, an impromptu
chance to speak on the RDF Underground Internet-based talkcast prompted
me to truly consider whether, as a philosophical preacher in the world
of online Robotech fandom, I am asking people to do more but not doing
more myself. Such an insinuation is preposterous, I say, but ultimately
insulting no matter the target of such scrutiny.
When the show’s host, Justy Ueki, brought-up Robotech.com and
it’s much maligned members, casual conversation turned to the Harmony
Gold figurehead in charge of it’s operations, Steve Yun. A previous,
unrelated discussion on the RDF-HQ Message Boards had jokingly
mentioned that Mr. Yun should be smacked with a pie to humourously
assert the well-documented discontent with Harmony Gold’s
Robotech-related work since the year 2000. Ueki said that, were it to
happen, it would become a favourite of his, to put it in simple terms.
Based upon my other interactions with other Robotech fans, I had to
concur that he would not be the only one.
Myself was included. I’d like to see it happen. Now I sit on a
train because the logical question was: ‘If I don’t do it, who
will?’—Honestly, I do not believe that anyone except for myself cares
so much for Robotech and it’s currently-dissenting fans to do such a
thing.
Economically, this is a bad decision. My job and likely an
upcoming performance review will suffer as a result. My bank account is
so low that I can neither afford food during this trip, nor a hotel
room, nor anything too extraneous. I may not be able to pay the rent on
my apartment as a result of this. You must realize, prior to
twenty-four hours ago, I did not even know that Anime Expo would be
held this weekend. But I have accepted a role as an envoy for the
people who are not willing or able to do it for themselves. I do not
look upon myself as a hero or an icon for this; I merely view it as a
duty.
Something needs to be said. Cameras will be used while Steve Yun
will be marked as the primary target. Given his unavailability, the
secondary target will be used—Tommy Yune, also a top-tier member of
Harmony Gold’s Robotech-wrecking staff. In lieu of the first two, Kevin
McKeever shall be disgraced and be allowed to be seen in the public
eye. It is only because Mr. McKeever is already such a pathetic public
icon that he is marked as ‘least important,’ for the operation and it’s
potential repercussions against myself and my teammate would not yield
the same benefits.
Ah, yes. The potential repercussions. Aside from the unavoidable
problems which will result in my personal and economic life, I do
expect to be removed from Anime Expo 2007 as soon as the act is
committed. I will not, however, under any circumstances, yield evidence
of the incident before it is released to the general public. If I am
banned from future Anime Expos, I am certainly not crying, for the more
I assert myself as a proactive fan, the more I recognize that the gross
majority of people are merely consumers, engrossed in the mere viewing
of programmes. (There is too much stupidity in this aspect to really
document in this section.) I do not fear the police, for I am guilty of
assuming that a legal charge for ‘Assault and/or Battery’ is beyond the
scope of slamming a pie in a man’s face for the purposes of humour.
Legal cases aside, I also do not fear a civil case from Harmony Gold,
and here is why:
Everyone knows that Harmony Gold is a small company. They have
enough trouble, it seems, making money off of their products and not
perpetually standing in the red-zone of economics. Their money is
better spent working on profitable ventures than charging me and my
partner for such an incident, but here is where it gets interesting.
What if they did?—Simple answer: I would take it for all it’s
worth. I’m not afraid of economic turmoil, for it has defined my life.
If nothing else, such an aggressive action by an entertainment company
against a small group of people who effectively propagate love for
their trademarked entities would hopefully infuriate the masses who
pledge trust to this company, or in the least call it’s dissenters (the
group to which my partner and I belong) into a furor beyond which has
been achieved before.
I am selfish in wishing to change the course of the world. I am
arrogant enough to think that I can do so. In the end, I believe in the
power of media and now, as my ears pop racing through San Francisco’s
tunnels, I prepare to do what I believe is right.
ENTRY 2~FRIDAY
11:35PM, Transbay Terminal
Deciding not to wait in the terminal after arriving two hours ahead
of time, my partner and I decided to take-in what we could of San
Francisco before we depart. At nighttime, somehow, the city feels
different; its not just the almost-fantastical clouds moving speedily
in front of the full moon, but, it being Friday, the nightlife comes
alive even in an area of the city known more for it’s stock brokers
than it’s barkeeps.
It stands as a harsh contrast, I believe—an emotional reminder of
normal life. Unintense. Interested in input rather than output. Likely,
for the next forty-eight hours, my nerves will be steadily growing
until a point of explosion. Nevertheless, this is a path I have chosen,
and the city by the bay was very nice to me tonight.
People stand outside of bars being frisked by guards in puffy
jackets. I’ve never entered this world; I fear it too late to do so. My
partner is also my fiancée—a woman who, like me, is more interested in
output than input but who recognizes, likely unlike those wasting hours
in lines, that input is very useful to the ones who shape the future.
Though having visited this city many times before, it strikes my
eyes differently now. I will remember this as the home I will return-to
in forty-eight hours. Perhaps it is arrogant, but in this sense, I feel
as though I am going to war.
No, I’m not fighting with a gun and no, I don’t have air-strike
orders being potentially sent-in to end mine and my comrades’ lives,
but in the end, the method is the same: A group represents what is;
another group represents what they wish it to be. The attacking group,
having exhausted what they believe to be their diplomatic options,
resorts to force.
The bus is boarding. Time to say goodbye…and go to war.
FRIDAY~11:05PM GREYHOUND BUS
I just began rereading the classic Robotech novel, “The End of the
Circle.” In my boredom with the current Robotech’s direction, I find it
a pillow—a security blanket, if you will—which reminds me that the
franchise is only as good as each individual work which is being
questioned.
I’m writing this in the dark. Damned lights above MY seat alone
don’t seem to work. I’d like to switch to another seat and keep
reading, but it’s enough to be reminded now that Robotech doesn’t die
now—I’m writing something for everyone to read.
We’ll make Steve Yun’s stupidity a part of the “official canon.”
FRIDAY~AROUND TWENTY MINUTES LATER, GREYHOUND BUS
It’s funny how culture draws lines between people. Make no
mistake, one either fits into ‘this’ culture or ‘that’ culture. This
perception, of course, is based upon norms of proper etiquette,
behaviour, and mannerisms, and is constantly being judged by any person
in the vicinity of where one stands.
Case in point: The bus’s first stop was just over the Bay Bridge
in Oakland. We’ll keep judgements I’ve held before aside for now. While
the bus was quiet and restrained (given the hour of eleven) in San
Francisco, it took about two minutes of new passengers from Oakland to
drive me crazy. A girl whines about leaving her daddy. A family speaks
Spanish between themselves. A girl of questionable mass for her age now
sits in the seat behind me. None of these oddities came from people
from San Francisco or those who chose to board in San Francisco. They
came from Oakland, and its only because the difference is so visible
that I bring it up.
Traditional beliefs of “class” have existed for likely the length
of time, and no matter what some liberal peoples want to say, a common
idea of what “class” is defined as is not a bad thing. It bonds people
together, forms societies, forges room for goals and hopes to be
formed.
I wish the girl would stop her damned crying. Her daddy ain’t
comin’ on this trip and her momma needs to slap her (or at least use
the threat to instill into her young mind the premise of caring more
about others than herself).
From the very beginning, my parents always taught me decorum.
First rule of proper decorum: Obey the rules of the house you are in.
If someone says “Take your shoes off when in the living room,” for
instance, you do it or leave. It doesn’t matter if you don’t want to
take your shoes off, because you are not such an extraordinary
individual that you can demand something outside of your body conform
to your whims and desires. It could be counterargued that, once one’s
influence and value becomes great-enough (as in to say that, for
example, one has achieved a level of influence which reaches far beyond
himself) then these rules no longer apply. I would say it is true; I
would also say that circumstances denote when this is true, as likely
the same house would have an owner who, ordinarily, would request the
removal of shoes in the living room but, for this influential figure,
he feels inferior enough to restrain his request.
The lights are off. I’m leaving Oakland. The only problem is:
Oakland is coming with me. Intermingling societies invokes plague.
Separation and the elegance of understanding individual strengths and
weaknesses is the counterplague. If I may suggest: Robotech is no
different.
Let us not be arrogant enough to believe that the norms of the world change for this.
SATURDAY~3:29AM; Burger King, Colinga, California
My bus has stopped for a rest in a town called Colinga—a town
which, likey, doesn’t stand at all on it’s own merits to be on a map—of
which’s name I was only able to learn by peeking over an ATM in the
Burger King we’re visiting. It’s interesting, again, what one can
discover in the seemingly most-unvaluable situations.
Why, when a group stops for a rest break at a restaurant, do
people seem to mindlessly decide that they need to get out and buy
something? I would honestly be surprised to witness the contrary. What
if someone didn’t even like Burger King, or perhaps simply preferred
McDonald’s, would they do something different?—I don’t think so.
General-society-belonging Americans have so embraced
simple-mindedness that they all start to become the same. Food=Eat.
Start=Go. No questions asked. It’s sad that people will plop-down their
money for this food regardless of it’s quality without any such
thoughts as to whether it would be better spent later.
It’s all about the here-and-now, like freakin’ dogs trained to
seek survival tactics except that they don’t know the first thing about
survival. Wanderers, like I am in Colinga, a town where they carry the
Fresno Bee newspaper, and a newsstand also offers both the Los Angeles
Times and the San Francisco Chronicle.
We’re all trapped in the middle. One’s worth simply depends on whether one is closer to the higher end or the lower end.
SATURDAY~8:18AM; NORTH HOLLYWOOD
Minutes after arriving into this town, one can already sense
they’ve entered a different world. Unfortunately, this isn’t the land
of movie stars and million-dollar studios. Buildings likely once
gleamed with pride here, but now small studios and performance theatres
drip with a sweat of age and disrepair. Near every other suite is
emptied, it’s rotting shell standing next to a hopeful owner’s dream of
actually succeeding in a place like this.
It’s a stark contrast to San Francisco. Perhaps its because of
the headlands or the ocean, but nothing like this quite exists in
Northern California. Across the freeways, neverending snakes of
concrete and metal signs, the people here have moved-on, discarding
past hopes and dreams and leaving in their wake the end of North
Hollywood.
Glamourised as it is in cyberpunk literature, this is a sprawl
but not a city. Offices and homes line the road in a neverending stream
of population but now even I have questions as to what purpose they all
serve. Who knows if the Capitol Records building or the Hollywood Tower
even see one person enter their halls?
Across scaffolding built to renovate one of these holes, at least
someone’s not quite ready to ditch what they worked hard to create.
10:17AM ANIME EXPO REGISTRATION LINE
With this many people already in line, I question the value of the
prize at the end being to shell-out forty bucks. Hopefully, I’ll be
able to make the Harmony Gold booth and scout the territory prior to
action. ‘A miseducated or presumptuous soldier is not a soldier but a
barbarian,’ I would surmise.
Did I mention that Harmony Gold was not even listed on the Anime
Expo website as an exhibitor? Pathetic, true, and yet, utterly
predictable.—Par for the course, losers. The unadvertised fact is that
Harmony Gold’ not listed because they bummed their booth from Toynami.
Again, I can’t be surprised by anything anymore, but hey, a company
which manufactures just-better-than-pharmacy-quality action figures is
more likely to turn a profit at a convention filled with Fullmetal
Alchemist and Naruto cosplayers, right?
This is the first time I’ve felt completely and totally alienated
from the Japanese animation community as a whole. I don’t recognize
most of the cosplayers for the simple reason that I don’t watch the
shitty anime put-out nowadays. (Where’s my Innocent Venus cosplay,
bitches?!) Even before I arrived on the grounds, I knew it would be
like this; I do not claim to be more mature than people younger than
me; I merely accept that I have discerning tastes and, as a
twenty-three year-old male, I need stronger stories, more believable
characters, and a level of intelligence (commonly visible in quality
thrillers and science fiction works) than do the gross, gross majority
if these people.
Elitist? Perhaps. But I would like to see someone try to prove
these presumptions wrong: Many Japanese animation fans watch programs
which are not even above ‘average’ for the purpose of entertainment.
The subsequent presumption us that, if an anime fan is willing to
choose to use their time to view ‘average’ or ‘less than average’
quality programmes, then they must be entertaining a brain which is
‘average’ or ‘less than average.’
10:37AM (STILL ANIME EXPO REGISTRATION LINE)
Call me anti-social, but in a line this long, I can’t find much to
do but hear my thoughts. I’m secretly hoping to see the Quattro Bajeena
cosplayer I met in line in 2005. Stand-up guy, he was; he was
cosplaying from a quality animated series. I’ve got Hakujin Fullmetal
Alchemist, blonde Fruits Basket, and a rather non-childlike Sora from
Kingdom Hearts.
(Which, I must add, is not Japanese animation. It’s a video game,
folks, and just because you love both emo-Japanese video games AND
anime doesn’t mean that they’re the same thing. Well, maybe they are in
your selfish mind, but for the rest of the world…um, nope!)
Where poseur cultures meet, geeks will gather. You can be a geek
and intelligent at the same time, people. (This begets a ‘nerd,’ as far
as my vocabulary is concerned, and let us never confuse the two.) But
then again, intelligence does not beget action—as in, the act of coming
here for my purpose today—and action does not beget results. It’s all
about the execution.
Whoop-dee-do, Otaku-sama.
11:05AM (YEAH, ANIME EXPO REGISTRATION)
There’s an interesting impromptu game of Pokemon going-on right
now, and while I’d certainly rather prefer a fistfight for
entertainment, I won’t hold my breath in this crowd of liberals.
The most unique aspect of the newest Pokemon games is the ability
to use the Nintendo DS’ wireless ports to meet people in the Pokemon
world who are also playing the game nearby. What this means is that
(given the popularity of Pokemon) in this horde of geeks, a lot of
people are playing at once.
It’s a magical idea which is ruined by the very circumstances
which created this scene: There are so many people that the potential
fellow-players to meet in the local network are lost due to the amount
of bodies in the area. That sucks, man. I can’t really blame Anime
Expo’s organizers, but it’s ironic that a festival designed to bring
people together, in at least one way, actually prevents it.
SATURDAY~12:43 PM; ANIME EXPO EXHIBITION HALL; ROBOTECH Booth
To say that Kevin McKeever is a ham would be an understatement. Let me do my best to recollect what has just occurred:
I showed up at the Robotech booth with no formal introduction and
no immediate recognition. My nametag had been ensured to be flipped in
a visible position, but for about three minutes or so, I was enjoying
the sights: The Robotech banner printed in 2005 (complete with sticky
notes changing “20 years” to “22 years” and “1985-2005” to
“1985-2007”). I didn’t find it very humourous, nor was I offended; like
I said earlier, this has become par for the course.
I innocently look-through the Robotech: The Shadow Chronicles art
book and am immediately taken-away by a dramatic Tommy Yune-drawn
picture of Marlene Rush. Hell yeah, ‘cause she’s hot. The rest of the
book is similarly impressive, I must say. If I actually enjoyed The
Shadow Chronicles, I’d buy one. But out of protest, I’ll keep my money
to myself.
A man behind the booth (I would later recognise as McHenry)
catches a glimpse of my namebadge and greets me. “Khyron_Prime! It’s
been a while, man,” he says with an extended hand. I’m pleased to be
recognized, honestly. But the next thing is even more awesome.
The Toynami representative who recognized me motions to Kevin McKeever and tells him who I am.
The man’s face goes blank. Steadies. And I nod in a humble bowing of the eyes to below the rank of another.
But that’s it for a few minutes. McKeever straightens merchandise.
I want to buy a promotional The Shadow Chronicles poster, but they have
no protective rolls. Damn. It’s the one piece of The Shadow Chronicles’
marketing that I liked—the image of Marcus Rush’s hand holding the
pendant of his sister and her fiancée-to-be.
I’m not a bad guy. I don’t want Kevin McKeever to think that I’m
so propped-up on machismo that I’m not willing to talk to him (or
anybody at Harmony Gold, for that matter) so I politely walk-up to him.
“Mr. McKeever! How are you, sir?”
“I’m great, man!” he seems to become a different person. “Really great.”
So I say: “How was your trip to China?”
“Oh, fan-tass-tick,” he asserts proudly. We continue to discuss
the scope of the convention he went-to, the challenges of working with
an interpreter and an American who doesn’t use school-style English,
and how Robotech’s reception, believe it or not, is and actually has
been (according to his account today) long more well-known in China
than Macross.
I was surprised, I must admit. Something stemming from the 1980s
and a mass-importation from the USA of what is “popular” alongside
Transformers and the like. It was very interesting to hear, especially
considering my apparent misconception about the conflicts caused by
bootlegged versions of Macross and bootlegged versions of Robotech.
I ask about the panel, constantly trying to find out who will be
there and who will not. Steve Yun steps onto the scene in an unimposing
manner, stocking merchandise. (I hardly recognized him with his new
goatee.) What came next was a lesson in secrecy and, maybe in my case,
a lesson as to the value of interview-style reporting.
“Will the Bateman brothers be there?”
They won’t. They’ve actually left the company. I maintain my cool.
“Will Mr. Letz be there?”
He won’t either. Sure, he’s kinda old, but he’s also no longer with Harmony Gold.
I wanted to ask if Carl Macek was going to come to the Robotech
Panel today, but I figure that, even if he was, they’d make him a
“surprise guest” and wouldn’t tell me. I do learn that Tommy Yune will
be there; Steve Yun might be able to go; my guess is that McKeever’s
gonna be the emcee, anyway.
I try to talk-up a colloquial conversation, but unfortunately,
business comes first. McKeever will not accept my offering of a free
copy of “The Shadow Chronicles: The Khyron_Prime Cut” for reasons of
legality. I can accept this, though I wish it were not true. Perhaps
such suggestions could help them better plan the next feature. After
all, I’m not here to destroy Robotech; I’m here to ensure that the
infalliable masters of its current path are willing to consider the
room for improvement the rest of us already know.
What does make me happy is that the Toynami representative
looks-over and McKeever is not opposed to him looking at it. I give him
a copy and feel very proud. I hope someone will finally watch my video,
because Haydon knows that not a single fan on the Internet has shown
the slightest bit of interest in my hard work to salvage the best of
what The Shadow Chronicles has to offer. In return, I ask about the new
Beta toy. He walks me to the adjacent booth, where it’s connected to a
Battloid-mode Alpha.
Maybe I should have known this already, but a Legioss is what I’d
like on my shelf—screw the The Shadow Chronicles-inspired
“Battloid+Fighter Jets=Awesome” idea—but unfortunately, bad decisions
again keep me from giving any money to support the franchise I love.
SATURDAY~4:17PM; Arcade In The Centennial Ballroom
Honestly, I don’t know what I’m doing here anymore. The games in
this arcade are nice, but not a single one beckons me to play. I went
to the “Manga Café” to relax and draw a pretty picture for an art
contest which will more than likely be rejected based on the simple
premise of how it asserts that men and women are not the same—a common
belief, it seems, amongst the liberal anime community.
With that in mind, I hate the girls here. I don’t think it has
anything to do with youth, but rather, that they don’t act like women.
They conduct themselves as individuals, cocky and loud as hell,
ultimately making fools of themselves in the eyes of anyone who
believes in the value of traditional gender roles. Don’t get me
wrong—women can be strong—but they’re stupid beasts driven by their
emotions and, in a straight-up fight, don’t have enough wits to squirm
out of getting the crap beat out of them by a decent man.
Now I rant about anime boys. What. The. Hell. If anyone deserves
to be slapped, they do, because too many of them are little sissy pansy
asses who rely on the laws of their country to defend them and let
girls boss them around because they feel that yielding to the assertive
anime-loving female is the best bet to get ‘em in bed. Maybe it’s true,
but I don’t chase women who don’t act like women, anyway.
I’m now perpetually bored. The exhibition hall is filled with the
same overpriced crap end-to-end. Where is my high-quality Zeorymer
Lanstar figure, huh? Oh! You have Gundam? Great! So do fifty other
displays in this damned place.
Geez.
Unfortunately, a compiled analysis screams that Anime Expo is run
by a lot of money nowadays. Not forgetting the fact that my partner and
I didn’t get a table in Artist’s Alley because they charge fifty bucks
to do it, the majority of sellers look like they’re really big groups.
ADV, Bandai, Funimation—they all have big-ass booths that
near-automatically distract the eyes from anything else in the hall.
The DVD and book sellers not only all carry the latest stuff (i.e. crap
churned-out that anime fans buy no matter what) but they charge prices
that, while low, cannot beat the fruits of a skillful bartersman in a
local video store.
You guessed it: I’ve been there.
And this is where I stop. Typing this, I’m having way more fun
than walking around, dumbfounded at the sheer lack of rationality and
exorbitant supply of disposable incomes. Call me old, call me bitter,
call me whatever you want.
Anime Expo sucks just as much, if not more, than real life, and
after paying fifty bucks to get in, I’m calculating how many Dollar
Menu Double Cheeseburgers I could have bought instead, and watched the
same young skater-wannabes make fools of themselves in the Playplace.
The purpose that brought me here is now really all that’s on my
mind. When, where, and how are my thoughts. Given the lack of Tom
Bateman’s presence, I have no pity whatsoever for Harmony Gold any
longer. I’m just hoping now for a double-dip of slamming McKeever and
Yun with pies at once.
Can’t someone make a real Robocon, please?
7:46 PM; THE SECOND FLOOR HALLWAY, WESTIN HOTEL
I just experienced the greatest anime-related panel in my life.
Hooting. Hollering. Energy filled the room. People were so genuinely
passionate that they booed when they were in the minority, and shouted
at each other in defiance. The giant meeting, in fact, concluded with
the crowd singing and chanting in unison.
Sadly, this wasn’t Robotech.
It was Gundam.
And it kicked ass.
I don’t publicly advertise in Robotech forums that I’m a big
Gundam fan. I’m certainly not the biggest geek, but when it comes to
the Gundam franchise, I can hold my own in advanced-level conversation.
And after feeling what I just felt, I have to wonder why I care about
Robotech so much anymore.
I was there for the Robotech panel. Let me outline before I forget.
Tommy Yune, Chase Masterson, Scott Glasgow, and Johnathan Brands
were the hosts. The Robotech discussion basically outlined what The
Shadow Chronicles merchandise is available (including the The Art Of…
book and the upcoming Beta fighter toy release) as well as announced
the upcoming release of a two-disc special edition of The Shadow
Chronicles. It was intriguing and entertaining, to be honest, because
the crowd was shown extras to be included on the disc which had
disapproved animation from the feature. The scenes in question involved
1) Ariel/Marlene fleeing the Invid Hive at Reflex Point to speak to
Scott Bernard and her body, totally naked, being visible; 2) the Regis’
departure from Earth being shaped like a penis and shooting through a
circular cloud; 3) Vince Grant berating Louie Nichols on the bridge of
the Icarus with a smirk on his face; 4) the dubbed dialogue of Dr. Emil
Lang when the SDF-3 suddenly comes-under attack while Reinhart and
Grant watch on monitor (with no accompanying animation); and 5) the end
sequence where Marcus sees his departed sister, Marlene, and they are
both completely naked in a dream.
Those parts were interesting, but they weren’t exactly
stimulating. They felt like a freakin’ sales pitch and I’m sure
everyone else knew it even in their enjoyment. When it came to ask
questions to the hosts, however, I knew I had to take my chance.
Obviously, any number of questions could have been asked and
further those phrased in any number of ways. I selected to ask “Lord”
Tommy Yune, directly, what Harmony Gold feels about The Shadow
Chronicles having become a dividing line across the Robotech fandom.
He gave a decent response. It was good enough that I didn’t press
the matter. When he used the phrase “It’s a free country,” however, and
reiterated that people will always disagree, I knew once more that I
was talking to a wall. No use trying to get the man to act humble. I
stepped-down, some dork asked about the potential for a Robotech
live-action movie, and that was it.
I stayed in the room because I had nothing else to do, and felt
the exhilaration I wish had come from Robotech through the fan-produced
Gundam panel.
I screamed whenever Gundam Wing was shown. It is my favourite. I
yelled at the guy on the stage who wore a Cosmic Era-style uniform,
because I hate it. No one seemed to care. When Anavel Gato came
on-screen, everyone knew it and shouted cheers. “Sieg Zeon!” and we
said it many, many times. The final sequence, where an old, crippled
woman passes a bouquet of flowers across a trainload of people to reach
Commander Char Aznable…
I knew the words.
They knew the words.
We all knew the words.
Robotech can’t cut it compared to that. I’m suddenly so
disinterested with Robotech that I don’t know if I even want to
go-through with the pie-facing of Harmony Gold’s employees. I’m serious
and in many ways, I hate myself for it.
Is it worth it now?
When Robotech is worth nothing to me personally, why should I damage myself in order to send a message to Robotech?
Should I do it for everyone else?
Can I do it for everyone else?
I…don’t know.
I’m going to a party for Robotech fans in twenty minutes. I met
MEMO1DOMINION at the panel, and we spoke to each other like we were the
best of friends reunited after a two-year hiatus. Robotech fans, it
seems, are great. Robotech, on the other hand…
Well…
I’ll let you know.
SUNDAY~12:59PM; ANIME EXPO EXHIBITION HALL
It’s been a while since I’ve reported because I’ve spent the last
sixteen hours hanging-out with Robotech fans. Oh, no; not the
run-of-the-mill Robotech fans, but Robotech fans who went out of their
way to invite me to join-in on a secret.
It didn’t quite begin there. At the restaurant last night, the
Robotech fans filled six tables of people, chatting for hours like real
people whose life is truly affected by Robotech. I reunited with
Hermann2, a friend turned nemesis turned friend again, and I must say,
the guy is not only knowledgable but well-spoken and enjoyable to be
around. By the time the dinner was about ten minutes in, I was in
hyper-Robotech mode again.
The freaky part was how friendly Tommy Yune was to me.
Apparently, when I asked my question earlier he recognized me from
Anime Expo 2005, and now, acted as though everything was cool. Maybe
for him, it was; he thanked me for a “great question” and addressed the
idea a bit further by asserting that he was well aware of the situation
with Robotech fans but has accepted that it can never be fixed.
Oh-kay…
I thought he was a nice guy again. I accepted in humility that
perhaps I overreact to his actions, that I don’t realize that he’s an
artist/creator the same as me and no self-respecting artist wants
people telling him what to do, otherwise it wouldn’t be art. In that
respect, he has a tough job, and I saw this quality when I viewed him
as a human being as opposed to the ethereal, non-participant character
viewed from afar.
Tom Bateman showed-up. I knew him immediately; he recognized me, too. There was nothing quite to say…yet.
While sitting-down and being bored to hell by the “adult”
conversation of Scott Glasgow and Kevin McKeever telling a never-ending
story of how Mr. Glasgow came ill on a past trip to New York Comic-Con
after eating oysters and blah blah blah, I saw something I will not
soon forget.
Tom Bateman, given the seat at the head of the adjacent table of
Robotech fans, spoke casually with everyone and was generally having as
good of a time as he could. Tommy Yune, looking to his own table,
passes-by and taps Mr. Bateman on the shoulder, and without really
looking in his direction or breaking stride, says “How’re ‘ya doin’?”
It took about one second before Tommy was at his table and Mr. Bateman was left with his face…snarling at this treatment.
He mouthed something to me. I could read the lips.
“What-the-fuck?” And, from …a distance, I could only give him a
thumbs-up, give a closed-lip smile, and feel the pain his face exuded.
What would follow would be a lesson in the true split along the
Robotech fandom. I could care less about The Shadow Chronicles, but I
went-up to Mr. Bateman and re-introduced myself without a name.
“It’s a pleasure to see you again.”
He didn’t respond vocally, but his face was the saddest I’ve ever seen in a grown man.
I extended my hand, held his, and we just looked at each other,
telling a story which needed to be shared. It’s amazing how, when one
is interlocked with another human being, time is of so much more value.
It could have been a minute, or maybe even thirty seconds, but it could
just as easily have been an hour or a day. I didn’t do it for any other
reason than Thomas J. Bateman was always the man at Harmony Gold who
we, the fans who love Robotech, could trust. Now he’s gone.
Now…the trust in Robotech is gone.
I handed him a copy of “The Khyron_Prime Cut” and he kinda
laughed. But it continued what would define the evening: Mr. Bateman,
myself and my partner, Hibiki, McHenry and JasonC and their respective
partners heading back to McHenry’s place for a night of Robotech
comraderie.
Not The Shadow Chronicles comraderie, mind you.
McHenry gave my partner and me a place to stay for the night. In
fact, we all stayed there, save for Mr. Bateman. His departure demanded
our circumspectual conversation.
And here I am now, recounting too much but everything still very
fresh in my mind. The doubts are gone again; I personally might have
nothing to gain from my plan, but I have come this far and it’ll be
time to do it soon.
For them. The true Robotech fans.
SUNDAY~3:45PM; Third Floor Lobby, Westin Hotel
Perhaps it is more of a lesson to be learned than anything else.
The job is done yet I am not satisfied. Those who had openly voiced
their support for this job the night before were nowhere to be found
even after I had prompted them via cellular phone to be at the place
where it would happen.
Oh, it happened!
Yet…it happened alone.
I decided to make the video longer, showing the act from beginning
to end, from entering the hall, weaving through people, to the creaming
of Tommy Yune. I decided it would be best for him because what I have
learned this weekend points to the fact that he’s the source of
Robotech’s current beleagurment, an arrogant, self-sufficient man who
has, according to my source, ‘marital troubles’ (pointing to a New
Year’s Eve party at the club Yankee Doodles) and ‘never really proven
that he’s a fan of Robotech.’
‘He’s not a Robotech fan,’ the source said. ‘He’s a Tommy Yune fan.’
I believe him. Everything points to the fact that it’s true.
When the video is released, Tommy Yune and Harmony Gold staff will
likely denounce it as a humourous incident and one that was done in
good humour.
Fuck that.
The truth is that Tommy Yune and his people don’t seem to take
anything seriously except for ‘Tommy Yune and his people’. They can’t
see this as the non-violent equivelant of an assassination. Sure, I
could’ve used paintballs or some other non-lethal attack, but I’m not
malicious in my intent. I wanted to send a message.
It was received.
It’s up to the receiver to do with it what he wants.
If they were smart, they’d recognize that, as a detractor, I had a purpose.
If they refuse to change, they will put-up pictures on their
website which have Tommy Yune and me, side-by-side, acting like we’re
friends.
Like I said, I’m not mean, but I didn’t pull Tommy aside and ask for a photo session of us both smiling.
He did.
He did it because he has a keen mind which recognizes that he can
use the power of his own word over the Robotech fandom pledged to
Robotech.com to pretend like I pied him because we’re good friends just
kidding around.
I hope that the people will be able to see-through the propaganda.
Since this is media, that’s all I can hope for.
This is Khyron_Prime signing off.
The above is an original copy unaltered of the Report