The following is an excerpt from somebody's journal.

Sunday, March 30th - 10:15 PM I am back from I-Con. It was a little.... disappointing. More and more I realize that I exist in a sort of dream world between older fen and younger fen. The older fen are convinced that the younger fen and their interests have nothing to offer fandom; the younger fen are often rude and narrowminded, even to me. I like to think I respect both sides of the argument, but at places like I-Con--where folks coming to talk to Harlan Ellison and go to filk and dress in Med/Ren garb meet 15-year-old squealing gothabe Voltaire fangirls-cum-anime fangirls--I oft times feel the divide. Also, it was superbly badly planned this year. They lost two of our group's registrations, causing not a few problems. Cabaret was moved to an even smaller venue, meaning we got to sit on the floor next to some obnoxious brats who kept complaining about the supposedly "fat" bellydancer (get a clue: that's the look for belly dance, and oh, I'm sorry, bitch, I didn't notice you were fucking Elle McPherson, either) and being loud and generally disruptive, and we got to have mealworms thrown at us by some obnoxious invited-to-appease-the-gothbabies group, Ghoul a Go Go. Mealworms! Most creepy-crawlies I can stand, but mealworms go on my "make me itch with disgust" list along with centipedes and millipedes.