The Coolness Scale

After a jam-packed-busy Friday for this reporter, Saturday has been my “easy” day so far. Having a lull in panels to review and having lost the fight for the last slice-of-life-cake, I will now add some non-dairy-whipped-topping-fluff to the Daily Dragon content.

Let us presume, for argument’s sake, that the only important measure of worth in our society is not family, money, fame, social responsibility, or spiritual contentment, but coolness. Then my duty, as an upstanding member of the Volunteer Reporters’ Association of Whereverica, is to inform each and every Dragon*Con citizen of the means with which to measure coolness and its importance in our congoing lives.

I will not be using numbers as measures, like 1 for great and 5 for poor. Nor will I utilize the classic combo of “strongly agree, somewhat agree, yada, yada,” because, let’s face it, they’re annoying. In my universe, we will be using:

Rocks like an airship on plutonium, aka rocks. (Coolest thing since the iPod)

I’ll tweet about it, if nothing cooler happens, aka tweetable. (Definitely iCandy, but I can wait to get one as a present on my next birthday.)

Whatever. (No explanation required here.)

Don’t step in that, aka blech. (Life would be better if this didn’t exist/happen, but there’s no need to call for a nuclear strike.)

Mind Purell Required, aka mindwash. (Please erase this evil insanity from my brain forever.)

I will now use a few examples from the con, so far, so that you may all feel comfortable using these terms in your next conversation, tweet, post to Facebook, etc.

Guy in John Travolta’s Saturday Night Fever suit wearing a glitter-covered stormtrooper helmet at the Masked Ball: rocks.

Three-year-old wearing the cutest Link costume who so very politely said, “Thank you” when I told him how adorable he was: tweetable.

Swag table with an unfortunate lack of cool stickers for my laptop: whatever.

Eight people jumping line directly in front of me because their lone friend was holding their space while they all had lunch (meanwhile my stomach is grumbling) and they took the last of the seats in the front row of the only panel on my favorite show: blech.

Last year’s line-ups for registration: mindwash. (The new system is so much better this year. Thank you bar codes! You are our friends.)

Bob and Carl the SciFi Janitors: rocks.

Catching up with your friends who you only see once year at Dragon*Con: rocks. Having to share a room with six of them: blech.

Getting into an elevator with a person whose costume is scant of fabric and they’re older than one of your parents and they’re looking at you like you’re made of chocolate and marshmallows and suddenly your choice of costume is feeling similarly way too scant of fabric: mindwash.

The adorable stuffed bears known as Teddy Scares that I purchased in the Exhibit hall today: rocks.

Hopefully I have provided enough examples that you can all now feel comfortable with this new rating system. It is now your obligation and duty as citizens of Dragon*Con to embrace this new trend. Go forth, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, and tweet, text, and post away.

My name is Suzanne and I approve of this message. 😀

Author of the article

When Suzanne Church isn't chasing characters through other realms, she's hanging with her two children. Her short fiction has appeared in Clarkesworld, On Spec, and Cicada and in several anthologies including Urban Green Man and When the Hero Comes Home 2. Her collection Elements: A Collection of Speculative Fiction is due out in spring 2014 from EDGE Science Fiction and Fantasy Publishing. She is a three time finalist and 2012 winner of the Prix Aurora Award in the Short Fiction category.