Cruise Elroy

“I was sort of nervous if we could recreate the same vibe on the East Coast,” Gabe says in the PAX East episode on PATV, comparing the convention to the existing one in Seattle. “And I think we have.”

Tycho agrees, but is quick to deflect any commendation: “Yes, to the extent that we can even — to the extent that the vibe at PAX is even created by us.”

This is an argument that the Penny Arcade guys have made before. PAX, they say, is not about generating a community; rather, it facilitates the assembly of an existing one, tapping into the collective consciousness that stems from our shared experience as gamers.

It’s also an argument that, in the past, has struck me as false modesty. Penny Arcade is still immensely popular, and Gabe and Tycho are still pseudo-celebrities in the gaming community. They’re hounded on the show floor for autographs and photos, and they’re featured in the Q&A and create-a-strip panels.

After further consideration, though, I think their sentiment is genuine. The scope of the convention feels so massive that the idea of it revolving around a comic seems preposterous. I know of a few attendees who actively dislike Penny Arcade, and others who are barely aware of it.

If you want to see the heart and soul of PAX, don’t look to Gabe and Tycho; look to Wil Wheaton.

Being a non-Trekkie, I first discovered Wil when I listened to his PAX 2007 keynote. It’s chock full of crowd-pleasing game references and fiery language, including a memorable opening salvo directed at Jack Thompson and the first appearance of the oft-quoted “Wheaton’s Law” (viz. “Don’t be a dick”). Between all that, though, is a remarkable and impassioned attempt to humanize our shared pastime.

Wil paints gaming as an integral part of his life, arguing that he is not merely unharmed but enriched by his experiences. His identity as a gamer is worn as a badge of honor; it has been foundational to his social development, and forms the basis of some of his strongest relationships. The potency of this interaction between games and community — a common thread in Wil’s writing — is the real spirit that underlies PAX.

After hearing that Wil would be again be delivering the keynote at PAX East, I and hundreds of others waited in line for hours to ensure that we got in. And after he finished to a standing ovation, about a third of the crowd headed for the doors while Gabe and Tycho took the stage. They didn’t look upset, or even surprised. And why should they? It’s not about them.