Whenever I have occasion to discuss gaming with a non-enthusiast, I always have a little difficulty when it comes to explaining Penny Arcade. The mere fact that Penny Arcade needs to be explained is a testament to their impact on our world -- to give the basic description, "It's a webcomic about gaming," is to do them a gross disservice. Jerry "Tycho" Holkins and Mike "Gabe" Krahulik are an institution; there is really no other way to summarize what Penny Arcade's creators have become. Their fans are legion, their influence is powerful, and their accomplishments are, at times, seemingly impossible. The next time I try to describe Penny Arcade in polite conversation, I think I'll say, "They're these two guys from Seattle who do a really popular webcomic about games. Like, seriously popular -- last December, they helped raise over $200,000, in one night, for children's hospitals."
That was the final tally from this year's Charity Dinner Auction, for Penny Arcade's annual "Child's Play" fundraising drive: Somewhere over $200,000. Kristin Lindsay, coordinator for Child's Play, took the stage at the Washington State Convention Center last night, and announced this feat to an applauding horde of gamers. Since Gabe's call to arms in 2003, in which the artist challenged his readers to fight the perception that our kind are dangerous sociopaths, those gamers have turned a modest act of altruism into a focused, serious effort to act as a force for good. The annual dinner event acts as a focal point for each year's campaign, and this year, I witnessed the phenomenon with my own eyes: For one night, gamers of all stripe -- PC and console, Alliance and Horde, casual and hardcore -- mingled freely and amicably under one roof, dressed in their swankiest attire, and eagerly gave away nearly a quarter-million dollars, all because Tycho and Gabe had asked nicely.
"It's the most fun evening of the year for us," said Lindsay, who spoke to me about the year-round effort that Child's Play entails. The event is certainly a testament to the efforts of its organizers, who, according to Lindsay, begin preparing for the winter event as far back as August. "I get to dress up, I get to come out, I get to eat really nice food, and we get to see items that are unique -- in a lot of cases, we wouldn't get to see them or experience them in any other way."
Besides the obvious service to their cause, the Dinner Auction provides a unique opportunity for gamers and the Penny Arcade community. While Penny Arcade also hosts an annual convention for its fans, the Child's Play auction is almost like a museum of gaming's rarest treasures, supplied by the industry's notable developers, artists, and even dedicated fans. One-of-a-kind objets d'art, press- or contest-exclusive merchandise from celebrated games, and timeless collectibles can be claimed by anybody, from industry insiders to simple enthusiasts. "I binge, all my co-workers binge, and we try to get some of these really cool things as well," noted Lindsay. "It's just a lot of fun."
As I arrived, my checkbook stashed hopefully in my pocket, I was able to survey the many treasures for sale during the silent auction, which comprised the first segment of the evening. Lindsay estimated the number of donated items at around 100 this year, including diverse offerings like Peter Moore's autographed Dreamcast, original paintings inspired by Okami and Braid, an Anchorman shooting script and several bottles of "Sex Panther," Seahawks tickets, and much more. The entire event, Lindsay explained to me, had grown out of these valuable yet non-traditional donations from their supporters. "We had a lot of donations that couldn't really go to our partner hospitals -- things that we wanted to do in a different context," said Lindsay, "And we thought that it would be a lot of fun to do a formal dinner auction for those items."
Wandering the auction floor, I saw what Lindsay meant -- alongside simpler items like game packages and accessories, I spotted several offerings that a serious gaming collector would love to own: The Umbrella Corporation logo in stained glass. A set of Pac-Man cufflinks. A customized Nintendo DS with original case art by Shawnimals. A collection of Bungie's entire pre-console lineup, stretching all the way back to Pathways into Darkness.
Both the items and their donors covered an extremely broad spectrum of the gaming community, from games and developers to collectibles and fans. Mingling with my fellow bidders, I found myself chatting with CEOs, aspiring students, and notable artists, including Gabe himself. Still, as Lindsay told me, while the industry's prominent figures had certainly been more than generous, that didn't mean there was no room for fantastic donations by non-professionals. A particularly beautiful Twisp and Catsby quilt, for example, had been crafted and donated by the mother of a Child's Play volunteer.
It warmed my heart, as well, to see tabletop gaming represented so thoroughly at the auction, featuring a number of board games, RPG sourcebooks, and more. The evening's highlight item for me, in fact, was a custom-built RPG/wargaming table, constructed by a local company by the name of Geek Chic. Roughly the size of a pool table, the massive gaming center included countless drawers and compartments for dice and miniatures, an enormous dry-erase hexmap with interchangeable backdrops, designated die-rolling chutes for optimal number randomization, dozens of reconfigurable panels and attachments to hold character sheets, and even a customized "dice stick" for figurines, allowing one to shift pieces across the board like a d20 croupier.
Wishing to take a photo, I started fumbling with my belongings so that I wouldn't have to set my drink down on the table's surface. In response, the table designer simply reached for yet another compartment, and popped out a drink holder. I wanted to take this thing home and live on it.
Sadly, the table was well out of my range within only minutes of bidding, and as I made a few more circuits around the room during the silent auction, I was similarly outbid for all of the items I had my eye on. Gamers did not hold back in their charity, swiftly driving every item in the room well beyond its actual retail price. Items priced at $50 sold for $300, while $100 items were bid up to $500. The Pac-Man cufflinks, priced at $50, went for $600, to a gentleman who told me he was simply getting them "for a friend." The Braid painting, priced at $100, fetched over $1,000 by the end of the evening.
With the silent auction concluded, the crowd gathered for dinner.
Like everything else in life, philanthropy goes better with steak.
The company I kept at dinner was an interesting mix, highlighting the remarkable effect that Penny Arcade has had with regards to its fan community. Our table included folks who worked in and around the game industry, as well as in completely unrelated fields -- an administrative assistant, a bookseller, and a medical software engineer sat and dined with a Microsoft tester and a trio of Digipen students. Yet, as it turned out, they nearly all knew one another, having long-standing friendships via the Penny Arcade forums. Most of them, in fact, were on their second or third Child's Play dinner attendance.
Once dinner was underway, Gabe and Tycho took the stage to welcome their guests and begin the live auction. I couldn't help but feel a certain similarity, as the bidding heated up, to the sensation of watching gamers compete in the arcade or on the couch. The eager patrons showed no mercy or hesitation, knocking down lower bids and thrusting their flags into the air with a sense of friendly aggression.
It was not unlike watching hardcore players jockeying for position on an online leaderboard, posting higher and higher scores, daring the competition to outdo them. For every item, Gabe or Tycho would open the bidding at a modest $100 or so, which would escalate in mere seconds to $1,000 or more, until the raises inevitably came down to two or three high rollers, trading grins and laughs, refusing to back down.
The items, naturally, were well worth fighting for, and every last one sold in the thousands, including a $4,250 deluxe crate of Valve merchandise, an $1,800 microwave stuffed full of Harmonix swag, and an exquisite bronze World of Warcraft statue, bought for $4,500 by Gabe himself.
More than any others, though, the major draws for the evening were the offerings from Gabe and Tycho. When a limited-edition cel of Gabe's art sold for $1,000, the crowd applauded. When an invitation to Penny Arcade's office-warming party escalated into a $4,000 bidding war, there were laughs and cheers. When an appearance in the actual Penny Arcade comic took top honors at a whopping $10,000, there was a standing ovation.
It was readily apparent that the evening was as much a celebration of Penny Arcade fandom as it was of gaming. Lindsay acknowledged that Tycho and Gabe's celebrity status, and the powerful devotion of their fans, often lead to such mammoth bids for the Penny Arcade-specific merchandise. "I know Mike and Jerry are always blown away by it every year, and it just goes to show that people have a lot of love for Penny Arcade, and for Mike and Jerry. We're just so lucky to have them here, emceeing this event for us every year."
By the end of the night, Lindsay had announced the tally: Between admission, donations, the silent auction, the live auction, and a $30,000 novelty check from Harmonix (from the sales-to-date of the Rock Band PAX Pack), the total was over $200,000, bringing this year's Child's Play effort to a total of just shy of $1 million -- and the main toy drive isn't even finished. A million dollars, going to help families in their times of crisis, given gladly and eagerly by gamers of every category, simply because a writer and an artist from Seattle wanted to say, "See, we're not bad people at all."
It's unlikely that the Penny Arcade phenomenon will ever be easy to explain to the unfamiliar. Even now, I find it incredibly surreal to be praising Gabe and Tycho as such a positive influence on the gaming community, while their front page has an entire post devoted to cookies in the shape of penises. In its own bizarre way, though, that's just the kind of thing that summarizes Penny Arcade, Child's Play, and what they mean to gamers everywhere: Our hobby might not be universally appealing, but gaming can be enjoyed by good, decent people from all walks of life, and when used as a force to unite its community, there's very little it can't do.
You can donate to Child's Play right here, and I highly encourage you to do so.
[...] Random Feed wrote an interesting post today onHere’s a quick excerptWhenever I have occasion to discuss gaming with a non-enthusiast, I always have a little difficulty when it comes to explaining Penny Arcade. The mere fact that Penny Arcade needs to be explained is a testament to their impact on our world — to give the basic description, “It’s a webcomic about gaming,” is to do them a gross disservice. Jerry “Tycho” Holkins and Mike “Gabe” Krahulik are an institution; there is really no other way to summarize what Penny Arcade’s creators have become. Their fan [...]
Whenever I have occasion to discuss gaming with a non-enthusiast, I always have a little difficulty when it comes to explaining Penny Arcade. The mere fact that Penny Arcade needs to be explained is a testament to their impact on our world -- to give the basic description, "It's a webcomic about gaming," is to do them a gross disservice. Jerry "Tycho" Holkins and Mike "Gabe" Krahulik are an institution; there is really no other way to summarize what Penny Arcade's creators have become. Their fans are legion, their influence is powerful, and their accomplishments are, at times, seemingly impossible. The next time I try to describe Penny Arcade in polite conversation, I think I'll say, "They're these two guys from Seattle who do a really popular webcomic about games. Like, seriously popular -- last December, they helped raise over $200,000, in one night, for children's hospitals."
"It's the most fun evening of the year for us," said Lindsay, who spoke to me about the year-round effort that Child's Play entails. The event is certainly a testament to the efforts of its organizers, who, according to Lindsay, begin preparing for the winter event as far back as August. "I get to dress up, I get to come out, I get to eat really nice food, and we get to see items that are unique -- in a lot of cases, we wouldn't get to see them or experience them in any other way."
Besides the obvious service to their cause, the Dinner Auction provides a unique opportunity for gamers and the Penny Arcade community. While Penny Arcade also hosts an annual convention for its fans, the Child's Play auction is almost like a museum of gaming's rarest treasures, supplied by the industry's notable developers, artists, and even dedicated fans. One-of-a-kind objets d'art, press- or contest-exclusive merchandise from celebrated games, and timeless collectibles can be claimed by anybody, from industry insiders to simple enthusiasts. "I binge, all my co-workers binge, and we try to get some of these really cool things as well," noted Lindsay. "It's just a lot of fun."
As I arrived, my checkbook stashed hopefully in my pocket, I was able to survey the many treasures for sale during the silent auction, which comprised the first segment of the evening. Lindsay estimated the number of donated items at around 100 this year, including diverse offerings like Peter Moore's autographed Dreamcast, original paintings inspired by Okami and Braid, an Anchorman shooting script and several bottles of "Sex Panther," Seahawks tickets, and much more. The entire event, Lindsay explained to me, had grown out of these valuable yet non-traditional donations from their supporters. "We had a lot of donations that couldn't really go to our partner hospitals -- things that we wanted to do in a different context," said Lindsay, "And we thought that it would be a lot of fun to do a formal dinner auction for those items."
Wandering the auction floor, I saw what Lindsay meant -- alongside simpler items like game packages and accessories, I spotted several offerings that a serious gaming collector would love to own: The Umbrella Corporation logo in stained glass. A set of Pac-Man cufflinks. A customized Nintendo DS with original case art by Shawnimals. A collection of Bungie's entire pre-console lineup, stretching all the way back to Pathways into Darkness.
Both the items and their donors covered an extremely broad spectrum of the gaming community, from games and developers to collectibles and fans. Mingling with my fellow bidders, I found myself chatting with CEOs, aspiring students, and notable artists, including Gabe himself. Still, as Lindsay told me, while the industry's prominent figures had certainly been more than generous, that didn't mean there was no room for fantastic donations by non-professionals. A particularly beautiful Twisp and Catsby quilt, for example, had been crafted and donated by the mother of a Child's Play volunteer.
Wishing to take a photo, I started fumbling with my belongings so that I wouldn't have to set my drink down on the table's surface. In response, the table designer simply reached for yet another compartment, and popped out a drink holder. I wanted to take this thing home and live on it.
Like everything else in life, philanthropy goes better with steak.
The company I kept at dinner was an interesting mix, highlighting the remarkable effect that Penny Arcade has had with regards to its fan community. Our table included folks who worked in and around the game industry, as well as in completely unrelated fields -- an administrative assistant, a bookseller, and a medical software engineer sat and dined with a Microsoft tester and a trio of Digipen students. Yet, as it turned out, they nearly all knew one another, having long-standing friendships via the Penny Arcade forums. Most of them, in fact, were on their second or third Child's Play dinner attendance.
It was not unlike watching hardcore players jockeying for position on an online leaderboard, posting higher and higher scores, daring the competition to outdo them. For every item, Gabe or Tycho would open the bidding at a modest $100 or so, which would escalate in mere seconds to $1,000 or more, until the raises inevitably came down to two or three high rollers, trading grins and laughs, refusing to back down.
It was readily apparent that the evening was as much a celebration of Penny Arcade fandom as it was of gaming. Lindsay acknowledged that Tycho and Gabe's celebrity status, and the powerful devotion of their fans, often lead to such mammoth bids for the Penny Arcade-specific merchandise. "I know Mike and Jerry are always blown away by it every year, and it just goes to show that people have a lot of love for Penny Arcade, and for Mike and Jerry. We're just so lucky to have them here, emceeing this event for us every year."
You can donate to Child's Play right here, and I highly encourage you to do so.
December 10th, 2008 at 4:52 pm
Great summary of the auction! I've wondered what it's really like to be there in person from a non-Gabe & Tycho perspective.
And that is an AWESOME tie.