A few years back, I covered Wizard World East in downtown Philadelphia, one of several annual comic conventions in the roving franchise of the now-defunct Wizard magazine. As festivals go, it was fairly straightforward—a full floor in the Pennsylvania Convention Center packed with booths, novelty t-shirts, and a rotating cast of stars—nearly identical to the Wizard Worlds in a dozen other cities, or most major comic gatherings. Any charm stemmed from the event's semi-chaotic idiosyncrasies: vendors peddling real katanas, as security confiscated fake ones downstairs; two dozen 14-year-olds dressed as slightly different versions of Spider-man; an Alex Jones-looking ventriloquist who never mentioned magic, but told jokes like, "I just ate a clownfish. It tasted funny."