The First Annual Convention of Madmen and Weird People: An Eye Witness Report

Vincent Eaton   Opening ceremonies             A journal I was freelancing for had heard about "something strange" going on over at the Vegas Convention Center and suggested I go over and have a look.  Maybe write something up for either the leisure or business sections, depending on what this Convention was really all about.             Entering the hall I moved toward the dais.  I passed circles of huddled, loose-limbed folks.  The convention opened with the striking of the gavel.  Unfortunately, the guy up on the dais struck the gavel on his own head.  Repeatedly.  Until he knocked himself out.  Pandemonium broke out.  The order of business was postponed until later.   *               Later, the second attempt at opening ceremonies followed pretty closely that of the first attempt, except someone had thought it prudent to confiscate the gavel.  The same official on the dais improvised by rapping his head on the dais—repeatedly—and the convention was called to order.             "Old business?"             As this was the First Annual Convention of Madmen and Weird People, the issue of old business was only lingered upon for an hour and a half in stunned silence, as nobody knew what to do.             "New business?"             A small intense man in his fifties wearing a grizzled sweater and a blue Mohawk hairdo leapt up to make a motion.             "I move we repeal the law of gravity!"             The motion was seconded and passed, although nobody floated away.             I turned my attention to a particularly deranged looking man sitting next to me—he wore bright purple clothes and held two shiny marbles against his nostrils, and muttered over and over to himself, "She sells sea shells by the sea shore, but does she make any money?"  I interrupted him, inquiring as to whether he was a certified madman or merely a weird person.  He ceased his mumbling to stare at me warily for a few moments.  He removed the marbles from his nostrils and glanced about.  He leaned toward me to whisper out the side of his mouth.             "Fifteen years this January I've been round the bend and never had the urge to look back.  I've found when you're nuts, you're cared for.  Competent people see to it that you're feeling well, and regular folks are terrified.  It's what I looked for in business and in money, and all the time it was waiting for me in insanity.  Are you out of your mind, too?"             I told him I was an impartial observer doing a journalistic study.  He immediately went pale and grew anxious.             "Hey, don't you give me away.  I got a good thing going.  Nice meeting you."  With that, he shoved the two marbles back against his nostrils and began muttering, "Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers, so he was probably a pretty weird guy, too."             Meanwhile, a ruckus had kicked up back on the dais.  The Sergeant-at-Arms and the Treasurer were having a very vocal discussion about the merits of having five minutes of silent eye rolling and gnashing of teeth in honor of uncertified mad people everywhere.  The Sergeant-at-Arms thought it would be, "…a useless gesture and that half-baked loonies in foreign countries were not worth the time, let alone the effort…"  Yet the Treasurer was persuaded that "…mentally defective people the world over should band together and be supportive no matter the degree of dementia…".  The audience cheered both simultaneously and rose to their feet to sing any song that popped into their heads in different keys and tempos.             Everyone laughed and appeared to be a having a fine old time.               I was not overly alarmed by the skewed proceedings, having been assured by the organizers that the gathering was taking place under close medical supervision.  I located one of the physicians responsible, and asked about his motivations in sponsoring such a peculiar event.             "After much discussion, we thought it would be good therapy if a lot of crazy people got together in a supportive atmosphere where essentially they run the show and hence may experience a sense of responsibility and accomplishment which would lend itself to a more positive self-image."  He winked.  "Though some of the things they think up are pretty way out."             One of the way-out things they thought up was nakedness.  It was never pinpointed who began the stampede toward au natural but it was believed to have commenced in the Northwest corner of the auditorium where an impromptu zipper symphony was taking place.  A zipper symphony, it should be explained, is what occurs when people with several different lengths of zipper on either their pants, skirts, jackets and/or boots come together to make music but are unable to play any instrument or carry a tune; so they resort to zipping and unzipping their garments in high, sharp tones but with plenty of rhythm.  It appears that in this case someone had hit a low flat note and then forgot to zip up.  The garment slipped from the hips and fell to the ground.  By-standers thought this a very good idea.  Soon many madmen and weird women divested themselves of their garments.  There was much tossing of fabric into the air accompanied by whoops of celebration.  People hugged one another.  There was little or no sexual activity reported, for the vast majority of the weird people had forgotten all about their reproductive urges.  They just rubbed their bodies with buttered popcorn and left over cigarette stubs and made due.             The rent-a-cop brigade was summoned and order restored.   *               The main order of business from the dais dealt primarily with fashioning a Charter.  Many suggestions were made from the floor, the majority of which were rejected as not making any sense whatsoever.  But in the end, a Charter was created and overwhelmingly approved.              The complete document is included below.               UNITED CHARTER FOR CERTIFIED MADMEN AND WEIRD PEOPLE 1.      We weirdoes are uniformly combined and amassed to speak out passionately on burning issues of the day and leave the cooler ones till the end of the month. 2.      We hereby do state unequivocally and with due urgency that to insure the honorable continuance of the race (i.e. mad humans and weird types) a special fund be set up to investigate why so many of us have forgotten about sex and, once we remember, to perfect mad ejaculation and weird insemination. 3.      It is also duly noted that we all like soft, furry animals but that this is not an imperative, just a really good feeling. 4.      Also, we wish to institute a Commission of Borderline Cases to figure out which way is up, which way is down, and whether or not there really is a sideways, or is this just something sane people made up to keep us idiots confused? 5.      Before we forget, we hereby declare and do state in whichever order comes first, that night shall follow day, and day shall follow night, and that this state of affairs will remain so until somebody comes up with a better idea. 6.      That Bertha Smiles, a fat lady from Omaha, should stop spitting a fine film of moisture across your face when she talks to you and save it for group therapy where such behavior is warranted and accepted, nay, even looked forward to.   ARTICLE I.  We should do this more often. ARTICLE II.  Very similar to Article I, but with a few minor modifications. ARTICLE III.  Each mad person retains his, hers, or its sovereignty; each             weird person retains his, hers or its independence; everyone else may            have what's left. ARTICLE IV.  In determining questions at next year's convention, everyone             shall have at least one vote, except A. Z. Nutswell because of the             zipper incident.  (This may be repealed or lightly modified by 1% of the             vote when tempers cool down.) ARTICLE V.  That if anyone present becomes sane or even somewhat            conventional within the intervening year, he, she or it can no longer           attend future conventions without written permission and/or much   regret. ARTICLE VI.  Of no importance, so we'll leave this one out. ARTICLE VII.  As we are beginning to lose count of these articles, so we'll             stop here and begin over again next time.               Signed by the Committee for Mad people:   ñ´ à===*$ }}}}*                                                                                                            ° OO                  = mmm                       "                       &=&&!!&&&               wee!             XXXxXX  X                                        èé        x x        **3                   %0!     Closing ceremonies             As time was pressing in and evening coming on, more and more attendees were beginning to drool for a warm bed while others petted their individual tummies and murmured, "Home sweet home".             The closing ceremonies were poignant and brief.  The Secretary General, the Sergeant-at-Arms and Treasurer made three speeches simultaneously.             The Secretary General shouted, "Vote for me.  If elected, I will serve. But I'll only serve if I'm accompanied by a side order of fries and fresh farm eggs over easy."             The Sergeant-at-Arms bragged, "I'm tougher than all of you put together.  I don't care if I wet my pants and call it 'something funny happening down there', I'm strong.  Feel my lip."             The treasurer said, "Dues.  Who hasn't paid their dues?  We have to pay our due.  The dues are due.  Due dues.  Due dues.  Due dues.  Due dues."             With tears streaming down their faces in heartfelt sentiment, everyone said as one voice, "Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye," over and over again, waving meekly.             The crowd dispersed, shuffling away in a melancholy but satisfied spirit.   *               Coming out of the Convention Hall and into the fading evening light, and breathing in the fresh air, I thought, "How strange it all is."  Beyond that, I didn't really want to think about it any more.