Dogecon Vancouver: We Did It. I Lost My Damn Mind in the Process, But We Did It!
I’m writing this overwrought, overworked, long-obsessed-upon recap post in one quick draft, because I made a public bet that forces my procrastinating little hand. And boy does the hour grow close.
That’s right, kids — I can’t get myself to write so I literally resort to threatening myself with eating decidedly non-edible (and non-fungible), though highly fashionable, goods. Find them in a hackerspace free bin near you! As long as I don’t end up eating them all!
Because at the end of the day I’m not quite sure what to say about all of it.
Things went exactly as I expected them to, behind the scenes.
Chaos reigned and beckoned. Plans fell through and time ran out. We aimed really really high and it would have been ridiculous to think we could deliver on every little point. I found it first gutting, and then pretty hilarious, that despite putting a dedicated volunteer onto promoting it, not a single puppy came to our puppy parade. I guess none is funnier than just a few.
Similarly, our attempts at order mutated as the massive four day weekend progressed. Every venue exit was rife with “Where’s our shit? Where’s our shit? Did someone take the pop-up posters? Where are all the cords? We definitely had more cords than this, guys.”
Things went way better than I expected them to, on the glittering surface.
People really got what we were trying to do, and jumped in with sleeves rolled up, with bright wild intensely interested eyes. Almost every single person we tagged in, in this blustering whirlwind of do-ocracy, knocked their piece of the puzzle straight out of the park. From amazing NFT workshop designs from Matt Lockyer and Cassidy Robertson from Cryptokitties, to an awe-inspiring giant Doge head from Scott Beibin assisted by volunteer Mike C. Taylor, to art, dance, and live music from a wide cast of characters — this all came together.
CryptoTwitter was aflame with enthusiasts and curious bystanders alike. “What are these crazy Dogecoin people doing?!” And even though ops was pure chaos, there were so many kind hands on deck. I couldn’t turn around without bumping into someone offering help. That is the true Doge spirit — community feeling backed by something more precious than gold bars — whimsical, forgiving love.
So why does my heart hurt this bad a week later?
Well that might be the simplest answer of all. And as I turned 31 in the final weeks of prep time for Dogecon — somehow this non-milestone birthday felt way more real than the turning of a decade — it’s becoming a dreadfully familiar one.
I’ve cried more tears in the past week than I expected, but the feeling is all-too-familiar. Because “crazy” is never satisfied, nothing is ever good enough, and when the desperate roar of urgent ops quiets down, well — I’m just left with myself. Aging out from relevance — unlikeable by most Western Canadian standards of behavior — excessively talkative and emotionally labile. Disorganized, always slipping, missing deadlines and emails.
Semi side note: I was, as of 2010-ish, the youngest “woman” (lol) voluntarily sterilized in the State of Connecticut — had to get multiple doctors to sign off and it was still an uphill battle — there are various reasons for this and I regret nothing.
So Dogecon Vancouver? That was my version of giving birth. The content design and experience, from Healing Moon’s focus on the hyperlocal superweird Vancouver decentralist scene, DOGETalk’s broad philosophical panels, and the rambunctious interactivity of Crypto Speed Debates and Are You Afraid of The Deep State — these were all ideas that I incubated and dreamed about for months. And I’m actually pretty happy with the rap song I wrote for Ubiq in the final hour before performing on Sunday.
I’m glad people liked this stuff— but I’m still left wondering, ever-so-narcissistically (as the human mind has evolved to function, especially in the current digital platform age) “is it enough? Is it enough to make up for how intensely acerbic people find me to be? Is it enough to justify my existence on this post-Hadron-collider alternate-timeline bent-spoon plane of weirdo reality? Should I just disappear and leave everyone alone because I’m such a goddamn mess that there’s no real reason for me to continue to bother people with my gross presence?”
Some of this is just broken neurotransmitter bullshit, I know that by now. The rest will come out in the wash eventually, so to speak.
So I proved nothing to, or about, myself by executing Dogecon Vancouver 2018. I shouldn’t have expected to — that wasn’t the point, and it’s quite a selfish way of going about things. Trying to make a big declarative statement to yourself about how you’ve changed, how this one tiny trick will make you stronger (doctors hate her).
But I think we made successful first strides toward the vision of Carpe Lunam Events Association — open, participatory, artistic, and above all decentralist education for the masses. Keeping Crypto Weird for the next million users. Keeping content free, open, accessible, and fun. I’m not sure where we will go next but I am so grateful that my team stuck with me, for 4+ days straight, to make this thing happen, despite all my childish tears and too-accurate fears.
Individual thanks are coming to all who contributed, I’ve got a whiteboard going for it and it’s an epic fucking list. For now, infinite thanks go to Alex, Tanna Po, Arman Mottaghi, and Gary Lachance.
