Comike Saturday: Human Trafficking
(to be C/Ped to MT, minus this link to my comike pictures and real names. Mike, 059 is for you. And maybe Miho.)
I like standing in lines. It's one of my weirdest hobbies out of a laundry list of weird hobbies. Thanks to Ken, I dodged pretty much every line at C71 when I went at the end of 2003. Even though it was a terrible idea, I decided that at C74, I would experience Comic Market from the perspective of a regular attendee, lines and all.
Boy, was that a bad idea. The temperatures on Saturday, my first day on-site, were exactly what I expected out of a Tokyo summer. Even at 8 in the morning, it was around 32C and rising. Even so, I soldiered on, with the help of a backpack full of drinks and a fan I got from Koushien. These were lifesavers, and I mean that without much hyperbole. Ken later told me that around 300 people were carted off to the nurse's station due to a cocktail of heat stroke, exhaustion, and dehydration. Given the permanent sheen of sweat on my face and legs for the entire day, I had no problem believing him.
Since Comike officially opens at 10, and any kind of transaction before that time is strictly forbidden, I had a couple of hours to wander the floor. I spent most of my time in the West hall, since a quick glance at the Comiket catalog (don't leave home without it! I learned that the hard way by not having a catalog this year and being completely lost most of the time) revealed a whole lot of man-on-man action inhabiting the East halls. This wasn't a very accurate depiction of what was there, since the East hall in Tokyo Big Sight is something in excess of 12 soccer fields in size, but it was my first impression and it stuck. I didn't even sniff the east halls on Saturday.
I had no problem with missing that part of the show, though - I was surrounded by Touhou fan work in the hall dedicated to doujin games, and I wandered the tables like a kid at a candy store. In many ways, I find Touhou fan work to be a lot more interesting than the source material. Zun makes great bullet patterns and his music is great, but line art is not his strong point. My weakness to trance remixes contributes a lot to this sub-fandom; Touhou remixes have grown into their own genre over the last few years, and from where I was standing, I couldn't throw a rock without hitting someone's remix CD. Still, there was something missing from my Comiket experience, and that was a line.
As opening time approached, I walked toward the loading docks of Big Sight, where the so-called "KabeSaku" (Wall Circles) with the greatest anticipated foot traffic are placed. Based on some eye-catching T-shirts and convenient proximity, I got in line for a circle I've never heard of named Yellow Zebra. I was pretty excited at the prospect of being in a Real Comike Line, but the brutal reality of Comike lines beat me out of these fanciful notions soon after I asked the last guy in line for the customary "I am the last person in line" sign.
Around a half hour before the doors opened, a Comike staffer came by to escort us outside, and my trial began. We lined up two by two and shuffled off to the service road. In my mind it was still early morning, but the sun beat down on me as hard as I've ever felt in a Bay Area afternoon. As the first line to be led outside, we had the dubious privilege of being front and center, with nary a shadow in sight. As we suffered, we looked enviously at the empty shadows by the building. As some wondered out loud why we weren't in the shade, a Comike traffic controller came by and cracked some jokes while reminding us to be patient. After a little while, I was ready to flee to the relative safety of the building, especially since lining up for Yellow Zebra had been a whim rather than any kind of actual urge to listen to their music. I held strong for around five minutes, which felt like an eternity.
Just as my resolve started to crack, a second line for emerged from the building and was led into the shade of the building. I cast a few guilty looks around at my comrades in line, but the end of the new line was tantalizingly close to the last bit of shade on the road. I couldn't resist its siren call, so after a lot of guilty bowing and backing away, I defected to the new line, which was apparently for the circle Cool and Create. I had no idea what their music sounded like, and I still don't know what they sound like, but let me tell you - for those last 10 minutes before the gate to the loading dock went up, I was their biggest fan in the world. It didn't even matter to me that their new CD was called "Bokura no Otinpo" (I will take a pass on translating this phrase - take it to the forums, where people can get a chuckle out of it). When the 10 AM announcement came, along with the traditional applause, I stepped out of the oven and treated those guys like rock stars as I asked for a copy of their latest work.
Unfortunately, stepping out of the sun didn't stave off the heat for very long. As hundreds of thousands of people made their way into the halls, I was stuck in the middle of what Ken calls the "Otaku Sauna." I picked up some of the goods I'd earmarked for myself or friends, and left as quickly as I could. Everywhere I went, the heat followed me. The only relief I found was in a tiny hallway where the air conditioning could be felt, but dozens of traffic control staff and thousands of determined shoppers meant I couldn't stay in one place for very long. Not that I really could afford to - I still had to get a few more things before I could consider myself done for the day.
My second stop was the commercial space, where a line had already formed for Iyasare Bar Wakamoto, Wakamoto Norio's web radio show. I was the 97th person in line, which meant that in theory I could sit and watch a recording in person, which I was hugely excited about. Ticket and CD in hand, I shambled to my last goal for the day: the cosplay space. Japanese cosplay deserves its own column, so I will continue this next time.
I like standing in lines. It's one of my weirdest hobbies out of a laundry list of weird hobbies. Thanks to Ken, I dodged pretty much every line at C71 when I went at the end of 2003. Even though it was a terrible idea, I decided that at C74, I would experience Comic Market from the perspective of a regular attendee, lines and all.
Boy, was that a bad idea. The temperatures on Saturday, my first day on-site, were exactly what I expected out of a Tokyo summer. Even at 8 in the morning, it was around 32C and rising. Even so, I soldiered on, with the help of a backpack full of drinks and a fan I got from Koushien. These were lifesavers, and I mean that without much hyperbole. Ken later told me that around 300 people were carted off to the nurse's station due to a cocktail of heat stroke, exhaustion, and dehydration. Given the permanent sheen of sweat on my face and legs for the entire day, I had no problem believing him.
Since Comike officially opens at 10, and any kind of transaction before that time is strictly forbidden, I had a couple of hours to wander the floor. I spent most of my time in the West hall, since a quick glance at the Comiket catalog (don't leave home without it! I learned that the hard way by not having a catalog this year and being completely lost most of the time) revealed a whole lot of man-on-man action inhabiting the East halls. This wasn't a very accurate depiction of what was there, since the East hall in Tokyo Big Sight is something in excess of 12 soccer fields in size, but it was my first impression and it stuck. I didn't even sniff the east halls on Saturday.
I had no problem with missing that part of the show, though - I was surrounded by Touhou fan work in the hall dedicated to doujin games, and I wandered the tables like a kid at a candy store. In many ways, I find Touhou fan work to be a lot more interesting than the source material. Zun makes great bullet patterns and his music is great, but line art is not his strong point. My weakness to trance remixes contributes a lot to this sub-fandom; Touhou remixes have grown into their own genre over the last few years, and from where I was standing, I couldn't throw a rock without hitting someone's remix CD. Still, there was something missing from my Comiket experience, and that was a line.
As opening time approached, I walked toward the loading docks of Big Sight, where the so-called "KabeSaku" (Wall Circles) with the greatest anticipated foot traffic are placed. Based on some eye-catching T-shirts and convenient proximity, I got in line for a circle I've never heard of named Yellow Zebra. I was pretty excited at the prospect of being in a Real Comike Line, but the brutal reality of Comike lines beat me out of these fanciful notions soon after I asked the last guy in line for the customary "I am the last person in line" sign.
Around a half hour before the doors opened, a Comike staffer came by to escort us outside, and my trial began. We lined up two by two and shuffled off to the service road. In my mind it was still early morning, but the sun beat down on me as hard as I've ever felt in a Bay Area afternoon. As the first line to be led outside, we had the dubious privilege of being front and center, with nary a shadow in sight. As we suffered, we looked enviously at the empty shadows by the building. As some wondered out loud why we weren't in the shade, a Comike traffic controller came by and cracked some jokes while reminding us to be patient. After a little while, I was ready to flee to the relative safety of the building, especially since lining up for Yellow Zebra had been a whim rather than any kind of actual urge to listen to their music. I held strong for around five minutes, which felt like an eternity.
Just as my resolve started to crack, a second line for emerged from the building and was led into the shade of the building. I cast a few guilty looks around at my comrades in line, but the end of the new line was tantalizingly close to the last bit of shade on the road. I couldn't resist its siren call, so after a lot of guilty bowing and backing away, I defected to the new line, which was apparently for the circle Cool and Create. I had no idea what their music sounded like, and I still don't know what they sound like, but let me tell you - for those last 10 minutes before the gate to the loading dock went up, I was their biggest fan in the world. It didn't even matter to me that their new CD was called "Bokura no Otinpo" (I will take a pass on translating this phrase - take it to the forums, where people can get a chuckle out of it). When the 10 AM announcement came, along with the traditional applause, I stepped out of the oven and treated those guys like rock stars as I asked for a copy of their latest work.
Unfortunately, stepping out of the sun didn't stave off the heat for very long. As hundreds of thousands of people made their way into the halls, I was stuck in the middle of what Ken calls the "Otaku Sauna." I picked up some of the goods I'd earmarked for myself or friends, and left as quickly as I could. Everywhere I went, the heat followed me. The only relief I found was in a tiny hallway where the air conditioning could be felt, but dozens of traffic control staff and thousands of determined shoppers meant I couldn't stay in one place for very long. Not that I really could afford to - I still had to get a few more things before I could consider myself done for the day.
My second stop was the commercial space, where a line had already formed for Iyasare Bar Wakamoto, Wakamoto Norio's web radio show. I was the 97th person in line, which meant that in theory I could sit and watch a recording in person, which I was hugely excited about. Ticket and CD in hand, I shambled to my last goal for the day: the cosplay space. Japanese cosplay deserves its own column, so I will continue this next time.