trainsaw.com

Last Update: 08.25.06

TrainsawCon: coming as soon as we become overweight balding has-beens in need of a paycheck

So I've been thinking about Star Trek conventions lately. And if any of you losers out there are thinking "Psh, Star Trek cons...the Warhammer con is WAY better" then go ahead and cut off your balls and sell them to the hospital, because you won't be needing them. Ever.

What I've been wondering is this: what kind of person actually goes to one of these conventions? Do they masquerade as normal people in the light? Are they out there making fun of conventions like everyone else does, and just thinking "Man, I'm glad I'm not a loser like all of the other guys here."? Because I can totally see how a human brain that was pitiful enough could justify that level of denial.

But maybe that's not it. Maybe these people have finally acknowledged the fact that they will never be loved by anyone, and that there is really no way their life could get any worse. So they just do whatever they feel like.

Then again, maybe it's a pathetic attempt to find a place where they will be cooler than someone in the room. It's a sad state of affairs, but you can see how it might make them feel a little better. But these are exceptionally dangerous concentrations of losers. Consider this - when Galaxy Con met in Washington DC last year, the average dignity level per capita in the city fell to 3 nano-Urkels.

There is, of course, one slightly more sinister possibility: that they're meeting to plot the ultimate takeover of mankind. After all, look at these terrifying pictures, taken from the Galaxy Con website:

Is it just me, or do these appear to be increasingly more sophistocated versions of the same robot? The most recent versions even have most of their hair and no longer need to wear thick glasses to protect their eyes from the harmful radiation that blankets the world outside of their parents' basement. Pretty soon, they may be capable of living among us, which means they're not far from being able to EAT OUR BABIES.

Fear for your lives. For your own safety, push a geek into the gutter this week.