Vancouver isn’t one of the more active cities this year, unfortunately enough. There’s but one (somewhat low-key) event happening that I know of: a Vancouver UX Cocktail Hour in Yaletown from 6-7 pm this evening, an informal gathering for fans of user experience.

There’s also a Global Online Card Sort happening, which appears to be organized from Vancouver, but it seems to me to be a stretch to call a global web-based project a Vancouver event. But go ahead and count it as a second local event if you wish. Are there others that I never knew about?

Is the dearth of local events for World Usability Day 2006 because Vancouver’s already doing well as far as usability goes, or (as I suspect) because the local usability aficionados didn’t get around to organizing more. (I count myself in this group and am not excluding myself from the blame.) I wish there had been something along the lines of a (free, public) workshop or a talk—PowerPoint-free, if you please—but there wasn’t. A pity that this city didn’t celebrate the day in style, but then again, usability (or the lack of it) is everything and everywhere and everyday, not just something to think about one day a year. Perhaps there’ll be some events before the next World Usability Day rolls around.

The Parade of the Lost Souls returned to Vancouver, after disappearing last year. This is a hard-to-define-succinctly, hybrid remembrance of the dead/parade/costume street party put on by Public Dreams Society.

Peeking Through the Veil…a Celebration of the Cycle of Life.

Begin at the end of life. The start is a reflection of death. No movement. Static displays.

Off Commercial Drive, in the all-weather field at William and Cotton a block away, the evening ‘begins’ with little fanfare. At the far end, projected onto buildings are images of skulls, dead leaves, and other memento mori, the flicking light visible from the road outside.

On the field itself, two curving parallel rows of lanterns mark a path through the grass, one that few people walk along but which few people choose to walk across as a shortcut either, preferring to walk around it. In a rough semicircle around the path, near the edges of the field, are sculptures, paintings, writings, altars, shrines. Some are artworks on or inspired by the subject of death; some commemorate real deaths, particularly violent deaths from murder or war, of months or years past; some are repositories for people to light candles and write down thoughts and memories.

This last type of participatory display is much participated in. Many are the candles lit, many are the words written, and many are the people who visit, pause, reflect, and sometimes share.

Then planned movement begins. Closer to the middle of the field are small stages, empty till now. Fire dancers now step up to perform. The dancing, the costumes, the whirling flames draw the crowd: movement is life. Music too begins, a trio on one stage, still somber, minor-key music—for the moment, but not for long. For this is preparation for a journey.

Now the bands begin to play. Multiple bands: a band of ghosts, dressed all over in white, clothes and faces both; a band of angels, white halos hovering above; a band of devils, glowing red horns sprouting from heads; drums, brass, woodwinds, bells; musical guides, playing increasingly cheerful melodies and rhythms, beckoning the crowd onto the street, forming a flowing river, a flowing river of people travelling, travelling from the field where death is remembered to the park where life, being alive, is celebrated.

To Grandview Park, then, orange from the multiple flames of many fire dancers—more than I’ve ever seen performing together in a mass display—on raised stages, and the open spaces between, the entire area of the tennis courts their stage. Here too, are the food and drink vendors, for after all, living things need sustenance.

On the edge of the park bordering Commercial Drive is another stage, larger than the ones back at the field at William and Cotton, with the lighting now brighter and the musicians playing music now more cheerful.

Beside the stage, a graveyard, guarded by gargoyles and ravens. Interred here are non-corporeal corpses. The foremost gravestone reads: “In this graveyard lies various regrets that people have asked us to bury. They are ready to move on.” The inscriptions on the gravestones range from the lighthearted and humourous to the earnest and poignant, from my Grade 9 perm to my bunion to unrealistic expectations that I impose on myself to painful shyness.

May your regrets rest in peace, and may you move on.

And onward. Beyond the park, the Drive, where the journey becomes a celebration in the delight of life, with dancing in the streets. Giant puppets bob above the heads of crowd. Skeletal birds on stilts caw as they stalk through the throng. And everywhere, costumes, costumes, as people take the opportunity to dress up, to show off their creativity and effort, to become another character, to leave their mundane selves behind, even if only temporarily. Numerous witches, skeletons, vampires, zombies, pumpkinheads, and demons, but too, medieval and renaissance garb, 1920s flappers superheroes, fairies, robots, pirates, giant dice, Lego minifigs, wolves, cats, a microwave-head, a banana slug, even just rainbow wigs, feather boas, domino and glitter masks, facepaint, glowsticks and LEDs. Even several blocks beyond the central hub of fire and music and dancing, there is a steady back and forth flow of people, enjoying the freedom to walk down the middle of a road, to see and be seen.

All good things must come to an end. The Parade of the Lost Souls ends about as quietly as it began. About ten minutes before the scheduled end time, a drizzle begins, a few drops at first, then falling lightly but steadily. This begins clearing the streets of people. The few who have umbrellas as part of their costume get to smirk. When the deadline does come, the musicians finish their last tune and bow. Without fuss, the lost souls parade out, a good portion heads southwards to the Skytrain station, some vanishing en route into restaurants or pubs along the way. But most of the costumes, however bulky or uncomfortable, stay on. To take them off would be a choice to return to normalcy.

An enchanting evening. Kudos to the organizer.

A word about the organizer, then, is appropriate. Public Dreams Society is a artist-founded group which organizes community events, not only as a production to provide mentorship and employment to people working in the arts, but also as participatory events for Vancouver-area residents. There are sponsors for events, but donations certainly help to keep such events going. At the Parade of the Lost Souls, there were donation/information tents, large donation drums (in both senses of the word: they functioned as both container and percussion instrument) in the middle of the street, and volunteers with collection buckets. Just how many people actually donated is unknown to me. My understanding is that at their previous event, Illuminares (as seen on Metblogs Vancouver&trade), the amount donated was rather meager compared to the number of people who attended. I wonder if the take was better this time round. I certainly hope so, because I for one greatly enjoy freeform, participatory public events like this one, whether they are formal, planned ones or more anarchic, flashmob-type ones. Donations are a contribution not only of financial support but of morale boosting to the organizers.

Thanks to Public Dreams Society for a great return of the Parade of the Lost Souls after its one-year hiatus, and here’s hoping that it’ll be back next year.

(Link: Write-up and photos of the Parade of Lost Souls (MEETin.org))

To think that a few months ago, I hadn’t even heard of wizard rock. Now this is my third post on the topic in as many months. (Earlier posts: 1, 2.)

Wizard Rock is music by bands whose members are nominally from the Harry Potter universe, or who at least sing songs about that universe. Not only are there multiple bands actively performing in this genre, but they have albums, a busy tour schedule, and loyal fans who faithfully attend their concerts in costume and buy their merchandise.

Local Harry Potter fans are lucky that Vancouver appears to be a regular stop on the various bands’ tours. Back in July, the Vancouver Public Library hosted a Battle of the Bands between Harry and the Potters and Draco and the Malfoys.

One thing that strikes me as slightly odd is that behind the music, the wizard rock bands all have a didactic streak: they constantly and directly encourage reading. Not a thing wrong with that—just a commonality I can’t help but notice. Remus and the Lupins are no exception; their website exhorts the reader: Fight Evil. Read Books. It’s a noble goal, and if concerts help with it, all the best to them. And having heard their music over the Internet and attended a past concert myself, I have to say that the music’s pretty good too.

So rock on, wizard rock bands. Voldemort can’t stop the rock.

If it’s the last Sunday in September, it’s The Word on the Street Book and Magazine Fair. On this day, several cities across Canada (Vancouver, Calgary, Kitchener, Toronto, and Halifax so far) hold a free festival celebrating the printed word and those who enjoy it–readers, writers, publishers, booksellers, libraries, literacy organizations. (The last Sunday in September 2006 is today, 24 September–the fair is on.)

Vancouver’s show is held at Library Square (map), the central branch of the Vancouver Public Library, downtown. As befits a festival of words, the webpage for The Word on the Street–Vancouver does a fine job of describing the participants, exhibitors, and schedule of events, so I won’t reinvent the wheel reiterating them here.

One suggestion from me, though:

Even in a word festival, there are big attractions in the geographical or attention centre and smaller ones off to the side. Like any festival, it’s often in the small, out-in-the-suburbs booths that the most interesting finds are found. While the stage performances and author readings and poetry slams and kids’ literacy activities may get the write-ups in the programme and draw the crowds, may I suggest if you go to the fair, that in addition to the above, you also make enough time to browse the little, crammed-together tables away from the stage or reading tents–Magazine Mews (Canadian & BC magazines) or Word Under the Street (micro-published comics and ‘zines).

The world of the printed word is a ‘quieter’ one, compared to, say, that of film or music. More of it tends to not be found or noticed unless one specifically goes looking for it–or comes across it in a fair like this one. Even though I know this, I keep getting surprised every year at The Word on the Street by the sheer quantity and variety of magazines, independent booksellers, comic writers and artists, small presses, and other individuals or organizations who seem to run just on a shoestring and passion, whom I find at the fair. Spend some time checking them out–particularly if they’re new, even strange, to you–browse some comics, magazines, and ‘zines, talk to the exhibitors, rather than just glancing curiously as you go past–perhaps you’ll surprise yourself too.

The story: Uwe Boll is a German film producer and director with the dubious distinction of having all three of his three most recent films–BloodRayne, Alone in the Dark, and House of the Dead, all video-game adaptations–being on the Internet Movie Database’s bottom 100. Fed up with the ubiquitous bad reviews, in June of this year, Mr Boll issued a challenge to film critics to PUT UP OR SHUT UP! The terms of the challenge were that five of the most outspoken critics would be given the opportunity to fight Mr Boll in a 10-round boxing match. All travel and accommodation would be paid for, and they would also be given a chance to be an extra in an upcoming film of Mr Boll’s, Postal.

One of the fights has already taken place. Earlier this month, Uwe Boll fought Carlos Palencia, webmaster of Cinecutre. (Available on YouTube: video of the Boll-Palencia match.) But the other four fights are taking place in Vancouver, where Mr Boll is filming Seed.

The card is:

Uwe Boll vs Richard “Lowtax” Kyanka, webmaster of Something Awful
Uwe Boll vs Jeff Sneider, journalist at Ain’t It Cool News
Uwe Boll vs Chris Alexander (of Toronto), journalist &amp radio announcer for Rue Morgue Magazine & Radio
Uwe Boll vs Nelson Chance Minter, Maryland blogger

I’ve not been able to figure out whether this event is open to the public or not, and if it is, how much are tickets. It doesn’t appear on the Plaza of Nations/Edgewater Casino’s Upcoming Events calendar. Apart from everything else, it is also part film shoot. Footage from the matches will be incorporated into Postal. The series of fights is also a pay-per-view event. In any case, I expect videos of the fights to be up on video-sharing sites like YouTube, oh, within a half-hour or so after they end. Chances are the video will also be available from more official sources too before long, as the challenge and fights are so obviously a publicity-seeking event.

Vancouver. Hollywood North. This event is a bonus for the city; it’s happening here only because Vancouver’s such a popular location for movie shoots, and (in)famous producers and directors like Uwe Boll are filming here, and so hold other ‘projects’ of theirs in the city as well. As for Mr Boll having opponents at all, well, it’s something that Vancouver as a city could be proud of. It must be a nice city if multiple people are willing to take the opportunity to travel here for free in exchange for humiliating themselves by accepting an absurd challenge and taking the chance of being injured or at the least defeated soundly in the ring–Uwe Boll is a former boxer–and have all of it recorded for a tv event, put on the Internet, and incorporated into a future film. That says something about Vancouver. Doesn’t it?

In any case, Vancouver’s playing host to a somewhat bizarre sports event/movie shoot this evening. Another feather in Vancouver’s cap.

Just after 6 pm yesterday (Thursday 21 September), a rainbow was visible from Broadway Skytrain station. The first hint of its existence came via the several people who stopped in the Skytrain overpass (connecting Broadway and Commercial stations) spanning Broadway to press their cameras and cellphones against the glass walls to capture the sight. (Then I in turn did the same, paying the hint forward to people coming after me.)

As far as rainbows go, this one was huge. A full semi-circle was visible, bright and clear. My camera, unfortunately, did not have a lens wide-angle enough to span half the sky. Photos can not quite match the experience of being there–bear in mind that this rainbow was impressive enough to get multiple people to pause to take a photo, though this was the evening rush hour.

Rainbow over Broadway Skytrain station 2,
Thu 21 Sept 2006

Within minutes, the rainbow had begun to disappear. It was just for that few minutes that everything came together. Then the sun continued to set, perhaps some water vapour in the atmosphere blew away, conditions changed, and the rainbow began to vanish. One end disappeared first, leaving a quarter circle, then that too quietly faded into the background. Before the half-hour had come, it was as if the rainbow had never been.

Vancouver’s umbrella season may have arrived, but if the sun comes out after rain, a rainbow just might appear–something which doesn’t get seen much during the hotter, drier months. A rainbow is a beautiful natural phenomenon, which can cheer people up just by being seen, as I think it did for the people lucky enough to see the one yesterday.

When you’re lucky enough to get small, free, good fortunes in your life by chance, it’s important to let yourself pause to take pleasure in them.

Arr! Just want to remind all ye mateys and swabbies that Talk Like A Pirate Day–19 September, Tuesday–is almost here. The afternoon of that day will see a Flash Mob Sea Battle at Grandview Park on Commercial Drive (as seen on Metroblogging&trade). In the evening is another event, a Talk Like A Pirate dinner/fundraiser put on by the BC Renaissance Festival. This one isn’t quite so free as the Grandview Park Sea Battle; tickets are $30 (& must be bought in advance); but somewhat conveniently, the time is after the flash mob ends, so anyone so inclined can go to both. Turkey legs, music, games, and a free photo of yourself in the stocks have been promised.

This Tuesday, may all pirates, wherever they be and whatever they’re doing, be touched by His Noodly Appendage. Rarrmen.

Voilà! A vortex is on the verge of visiting Vancouver. Veer into the vanguard to save. Voyage to its venue for a vacation from the vestiges of the vanilla. Venerable veterans and verdant virgins alike will welcome VIPs and other versatile vocationists. Together, a vibrant village of variety they vivify. Vivid vistas hang in view, vendors vie for the valuables of your pocket vault, verses are voiced at volume with verve, and valourous victories and violent vexing vanquishes are vaunted. Victuals, viands, vodka, and vino flow in the vicinity of the voluble, their vociferous and vehement reverberations, and their eavesdroppers. The vain vogue in vestments of velvet and velour for a vote–or just vamp vivaciously in vinyl for voyeurs. Vile verbiage is valiantly vocalized verbatim while their vulgar vignettes are vaguely revised vaudeville-style. Receive a verdict–validation or veto–of your verbosity from veritable viceroys of vocabulary, or vow to quiver under their vigilance. And can a viral idea vouch for and make visible a believed vast array of vintage vials, virtual vessels, and varied souvenirs now veiled in fan vestibules? Various other activities are available for the most voracious: view videos, vibrate vigourously to volatile rhythms, or merely veg in a vantage point to revel in the vibe. Verily, this venture is no vapid, venal vehicle with but a veneer of veracity; its virtue and vitality comes via valued, vital volunteers. Vindication: this year is version 31; this visual of violet and vermillion is its visage; its website, its vade-mecum; and you may call it VCON.

[Expansion to initial entry]
VCON is the annual Vancouver-area science fiction, fantasy, and gaming convention, happening this year from Friday 6 to Sunday 8 October, at the Executive Airport Plaza in Richmond. The guest of honour this year is writer Barbara Hambley. All-weekend memberships are $50 until after this Friday (15 September), then they’re $60. There’s a VCON preview at BIFF on that last day.

The big thing about VCON is that it’s fan run. It’s not an event put on by, say, the producers of a tv show as part of the marketing for the show and to sell merchandise. The organizers are almost all locals, as are most of the dealers. Guests and attendees, well, many are locals too, but the idea of course is to play host to fans coming in from outside the region. But it’s an event run by fans, for fans, and the biggest tell is that it doesn’t sell tickets, nor admission, but memberships. Those who attend are seen not as an audience to be passively entertained but members of a club, people with common or overlapping interests, who attend to to meet others participate. And even to help out, to work, where needed–to volunteer.

Back in July, a comment to the post Richmond the science fiction capital of Richmond quoted a list of movie and tv sequels as summing up everything that was wrong with science fiction today. I argue that science fiction encompasses more than just movies and tv and even if franchised sequels do represent all that’s wrong with science fiction, then all that’s right with science fiction is represented by fans who come together, in real-life, face-to-face meetups, whether small informal ones or large, painfully organized ones. And in the Vancouver area at least, this happens frequently and regularly. VCON’s big, but just one out of many such get-togethers of fans. Its focus is to have no focus. It isn’t a Star Trek convention, nor a comics con, a gaming con, an anime con, or any kind of ’special-interest’ convention, but a general science fiction and fantasy one, bringing together all the different areas of fan interest. A kind of rainbow gathering, if you will.

As an exercise, feel free to try to match a V-phrase in the opening V-paragraph to a corresponding section on the VCON website (GOH and panelists, art show, dealers’ room, filking, gaming, hospitality, masquerade, turkey readings, writers’ workshop, master classes in writing genre fiction, museum of the imagination).

Reader Andrew Ferguson writes in to Vancouver Metblogs about the Rise of the Robots Skytrain party on 18 August. He has put 50 of his best photos of the event on his website: a gallery of robots for all to view. (And if these aren’t enough photos for you, the Rise of the Robots page has links to 9 other photosets and a video.)

Andrew writes: The event was a great time, with tons of people dressed as robots and a a live DJ playing a set on the train. Skytrain cops were all good about it, the Straight sent a photographer, and good times were had by all.

Being one of the robots on the train myself, I concur. There were some hiccups with the plan, but overall, it went well, and I even managed to find a robot afterparty too. (Incidentally, this was why I didn’t show up till very late at the unveiling party of WorkSpace, which was on the same evening.) If you weren’t there yourself, perhaps the photos can give an feel for the fun of the event.

The event begins at 7 pm, with some of Vancouver’s finest DJs (unnamed, hmm). Film showings start at 9 pm, and will cost you only $2 (for a Moving Pictures membership); nothing if you’re already a member, or are a senior or a child. Moving Pictures is a Vancouver-based travelling film festival showcasing Canadian films, and is one of the presenters of the event.

This year is only the event’s second year–is that enough to qualify it as an annual event? I hope it continues in future years as one of the many events in Vancouver’s calendar. Such a deal: $2 for two movies with filmmakers and cast in attendance, plus music, in a great setting.