A few weeks ago, I spent a mad, mad few days wearing pantyhose on my head.
This is not that abnormal for me, and before you ask why while slowly backing away and surreptitiously dialing the number for the Looney Bin, just relax and understand that I am one of Those People. Fen. Fans of SF and Fantasy. We gather together at conventions - Cons, if you will. Many of us go in uniform. No, not military uniform--at least not any military currently found on the planet. Our uniforms bear the logos of the United Federation of Planets, the Galactic Empire, the Sith Empire, SGD, or the Rebel Alliance. Many of us don pointy ears, funny foreheads, wings, and/or other appendages (some best left unspecified).
Why? We do this in homage...in homage to the wonderful imaginations and talents of storytellers and artists who have, for a time, managed to take us all, at one time or another, into a different world, an exciting place full of action and adventure, and possibility. That magic extends so far out, has such amazing repercussions of creativity, that we in the audience seek to make it a participatory experience--to ourselves engage in that creativity, and make for ourselves a shadow of that same magic place. To transport ourselves and each other into a place where Stormtroopers and Jedi Knights meet and clash in (good-natured) spirit of adventure and play. Or to where the distant sounds of a room party down a hotel hallway could lead to worlds imaginative and fantastic. Or simply to an open wet bar and good conversation with like-minded people, where for once, you don't have to provide an explanation proving your sanity before you start conversing. These are our Tribe gatherings, and this is our Tribe. We're safe here.
Edit Note: I didn't realize I'd cut off the bottom sentence of this post until Cassandra pointed it out. Blogger has it in for me, I swear...