The people behind the Great Dickens Christmas Fair have gone and done it again: they’re turning Pier 35 on the Embarcadero into an 1849 Gold Rush settlement for two days only, August 22 and 23. We’re talking immersive Victorian-era San Francisco, sea shanties pouring out of saloon doors, high-kicking can-can dancers, artisan wares, oysters, sourdough, and hopeful prospectors who will absolutely try to sell you a shovel. In partnership with the San Francisco Historical Society, no less. Red Barn Productions calls it “theatrical living history.” The Doctor calls it GoldPunk, and he will not be taking questions.

Think about what’s actually being proposed here: a fully immersive port city circa 1850, crammed with period clothing shops, sketch comedians, sea captains, gold panners, and enough local ale to float one of those great sailing vessels. This is the Omega7Red Formulae applied to Manifest Destiny, and the result is completely canonical. The Formula doesn’t care about your eras; it just asks what the most interesting version of a moment in history looks like. Turns out it looks like San Francisco before the earthquake got to it, staffed by 150 actors and built on Pier 35. Tickets are $40 for adults. Get in there.

Via: The Steampunk Explorer

Today is Nikola Tesla’s birthday, which means the Punk calendar is already winning. But if you’re anywhere near Jacksonville, Florida tonight, you’ve got exactly zero excuses not to be at Nemo’s Steampunk Gala. Hall of Heroes is throwing the first-ever Jules Verne-themed blowout at Goozlepipe & Guttyworks (yes, that is the actual name of the venue, and yes, it was already perfect before any steampunks got their hands on it), running 9pm to 2am. The upstairs is the Nautilus Engine Room: DJs, live performances, full food and drink menu. The downstairs is called The Abyss, described as a journey “20,000 leagues under King Street” into the Kraken’s Lounge. If that sentence doesn’t make you want to put on a frock coat and a diving helmet, the Omega7Red Formulae cannot help you.

There’s also a Steampunk Market with independent creators on the floor, so you can spend money on things you absolutely do not need but will treasure forever. The Doctor approves of any event where the aesthetic is “Victorian submarine nightmare” and the cover charge is cheaper than therapy. Get your tickets before they’re gone, or spend tomorrow reading about it on the internet like a surface-dweller. Nothing can beat old age and betrayal.

Via: Hall of Heroes Events

Twenty editions. Twenty. The Romans would approve of the numerals, and so does the Doctor. Whitby Steampunk Weekend XX descends on Whitby, North Yorkshire, July 24-26, 2026, turning the seaside town Bram Stoker used as his personal horror-writing backdrop into something Stoker himself would have found delightfully unhinged: thousands of costumed steampunks doing costumed promenades along the clifftops, a 70-plus-stall Retail Emporium packed with handcrafted curiosities, live music, workshops, and educational presentations, all inside the Whitby Pavilion. Free daytime entry. Family friendly. The past is always in the future, apparently, and in Whitby it is also apparently wearing a very elaborate hat.

Seriously though: free, accessible, and set in a town with a ruined abbey looming over the harbor and a Dracula connection baked into the postcode? That is either the best-scouted convention venue in the genre or the most [expletive deleted] obvious one, and either way the Doctor gives full credit. If you are anywhere near North Yorkshire in late July and you are not already packing your goggles and your best brass-fitted waistcoat, I genuinely do not know what you are doing with your life. Nothing can beat old age and betrayal, but Whitby Steampunk Weekend at least gives you something worth staying alive for.

Via: Whitby Pavilion

Mark Twain’s hometown gets taken over by goggle-wearing Victorians every Labor Day weekend, and honestly, that is the most correct thing that happens in Missouri all year. The Big River Steampunk Festival returns to historic downtown Hannibal, September 4-7, 2026, and it is, by most credible estimates, the largest outdoor steampunk festival in the United States. Over 20,000 attendees descend on Main Street for costume contests, Nerf and Tea Dueling, vaudeville shows, workshops, live music, vendors, and a Pet and Human Costume Parade on Monday morning. (Yes. Your corgi can be SteamPunk. The Formula works on dogs. I have tested this.)

This year’s event almost didn’t happen, by the way. The Hannibal City Council nearly tabled the whole thing over one councilwoman’s concern about Friday delivery trucks being blocked. ONE business showed up to complain. ONE. The rest of downtown presumably looked at 20,000+ steampunks and thought, “yeah, we’ll move our freight.” The council came to its senses and approved it. Nothing can beat old age and betrayal.

Hannibal is, as the locals will tell you, “authentically Victorian” and a genuine center of Industrial Revolution commerce: steamboats, steam trains, the whole brass-and-iron tableau. Think Renaissance Faire, except instead of medieval England it’s Victorian America, and instead of turkey legs you’re getting high tea and a duel. Admission to the main festival is free. Some ticketed events cost extra. Your excuses not to go are officially invalid. bigriversteampunkfestival.com

The Chicago Steampunk Exposition is back, and this year they pulled off something that earns them a genuine high-5 from the Doctor: they got Gail Carriger on the guest roster. If that name doesn’t ring your brass bells, fix that immediately. Carriger is the archaeologist-turned-novelist behind the Parasol Protectorate series, the Finishing School books, and roughly a dozen other reasons to cancel your weekend plans. Victorian werewolves, dirigibles, parasols as weapons, tea as a survival mechanism. The Omega7Red Formulae practically wrote those books itself.

The Expo is doing its usual trick of cracking open interdimensional time portals back to the 1893 World’s Fair, because apparently just having a steampunk convention isn’t dramatic enough and they deserve full credit for committing to the bit. If you are anywhere near the Chicago metro and not already planning attendance, I cannot help you. Some people are beyond the reach of the Formulae. The rest of you: find your best waistcoat, oil your goggles, and go meet the woman who made Victorian etiquette into a contact sport.

Via: Chicago Steampunk Exposition

Gettysburg, Pennsylvania is already a place where the past refuses to stay dead. So naturally, that’s where the Key City Steampunk Convention has set up shop, and this year they are leaning ALL THE WAY in. The 2026 theme is Worlds of Tomorrow: think Metropolis, think The Rocketeer, think airships over gleaming skylines and a city of marvels where high technology and high fashion collide. August 7th through 9th. The Doctor has circled the calendar in red ink and brass rivets.

They’ve got makers, panels, workshops, tea dueling (yes, tea dueling is a real and legitimate combat discipline, and I will die on that hill), vendors, live entertainment, costume contests, and a guest list that includes a chainmail artist known as Steampunk Boba Fett and a one-man Steampunk musical act named Steamcordia who plays whatever instruments happen to be lying around his apartment. That last one is either genius or a noise complaint waiting to happen. Possibly both. The Formula approves of both outcomes.

If you’re anywhere near the East Coast this summer and you have not yet attended a steampunk convention, this is the one to fix that. Wyndham Gettysburg. Bring your goggles. Bring your airship captain’s coat. Do NOT bring a mundane attitude; it will be confiscated at the door. Grab your tickets before August 6th or pay the at-door premium like a civilian. Nothing can beat old age and betrayal.

Three days. Three locations. One Gulf Coast city with more Victorian ironwork per square foot than any place has a right to. The 4th Annual Galveston Steampunk Festival wrapped June 5th–7th, and if you weren’t there, the Doctor has a few words for you: what, EXACTLY, were you doing that was more important than watching steam-powered teapots race?

The Galveston festival is genuinely one of the good ones. Pub crawl on the Strand Friday night, full festival at Moody Gardens Saturday (noon to 9pm, bring your brass), then a Sunday mansion experience at the League Kempner estate, complete with a Victorian ghost tour, a Model-T driving tour, and an escape room. This is the full SteamPunk experience, not some ren-faire-with-goggles situation. (Not that there is anything wrong with ren-faires, but you know what I mean.)

The city earns it: Galveston was literally built by Victorian industrialists who drove new machines and fabrication methods straight into the Gulf Coast economy. The bones of the place are SteamPunk. The Omega7Red Formulae didn’t even have to work that hard.

Mark your 2027 calendar now. Teapot racing awaits, and old age and betrayal won’t wait for you to get your goggles sorted.

Via: Galveston Steampunk Festival

They tried to kill me. They blew up the entire friggin planet on March 14, 2015, at 9:26:53am, just like me and Einstein predicted they would. And then, we all forgot, just like in that Doctor Who episode. It took me nearly seven years to get myself back online. So why don’t any of you remember it? Simulation Theory. That’s right. The Earth wasn’t real, to begin with. Well, not this Earth. There is that Earth that this Earth is in, but we’re not in that Earth, we’re in this Earth. Anyways, doesn’t matter, because I’m too awesome to kill. Planet exploded, got rebuilt as they do in The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, and here we are all living out our coppertop lives in whatever Matrix this is.

Why me and not you? I took the Steampunk Formulae that I created, “Omega7Red,” apparently similar to the red pill and it protected me from the changes in the data stream. You should have taken it too, but you didn’t, and now here we are. Even though you can’t recall, I’ll tell you one thing I learned: survival is revenge…

Where do we go from here? I’ve reactivated my Steampunk blog. The domain name omega7red.com is parked somewhere and the thieves want over $3,000 for it. Go eat a [expletive deleted] you bastards! I got the domain name back for next to nothing. That’s right, once the brokers realized it was completely worthless, they gave it up without a fight. Anyways, I may post something from time to time. It might be Steampunk, or something else cool. I mean, it’s always cool, just not always Steampunk.

Other technical issues are age-related. Back in the day, I used Flash, Shockwave, and such. Now, that tech is dead. Further, many of the websites I linked to are also dead. Also, YouTube has gotten greedy and won’t allow thumbnails for some videos, but they will play. So, there are holes, but just a few. You probably won’t even notice.

The next apocalypse is scheduled for March 14, 2015, 9:26:53am. This event is known as “The Pi Apocalypse” because the date aligns to the value of Pi perfectly, 3.141592653. On that day, our planet will explode and we will all DIE, as represented by the Pi equation and predicted by Albert Einstein.

“Pi Day” (3/14) is celebrated every year by the Cult of Pi. However, the upcoming Pi Day in 2015 is mathematically accurate to 10 to the 13th digits as calculated by a super-computer algorithm in 2011. Albert Einstein’s birthday is also on 3/14 (Pi Day), and he predicted this terminal event in his “quantized atomic vibrations” theory. Einstein never directly said it, but he hinted that harmonic oscillations between atoms are continuously creating sympathetic vibrations that generate molecular heat at an exponential rate (which explains Global Warming). As the heat grows, the Earth will contain the increasing pressure until it pops like a balloon. Knowing the rate of heat growth, and how much pressure the Earth can hold, precise mathematics produces a result of the given date.

Others have argued that the Earth will not blow up like the Death Star.  Rather, they expect that molten lava and heavy volcanic activity will cover most landmasses and that ash will block out the sun, except Antarctica.   Personally, I think this is just wishful thinking to give people hope that they could survive the apocalypse as a mere extinction-level event.

There will also be a pie-eating contest.

I have become philosophically opposed to certain multi-billion-dollar corporations. These corporations collect big data about everyone so as to turn their customers into a product. The means used in that data collection are unethical. Further, there are many other issues equally unethical, and too numerous to detail here. Consequently, I have permanently dismissed my advertisers as all of them use the advertising networks provided by these corporations. I will no longer cooperate with these unprincipled entities to the best of my ability.  Though my lack of certain skills and abilities force me to buy food and products from some of them, I can still resist.

All of this I am currently doing:

• I will work for ethical organizations.
• I will no longer advertise and make money from this website.
• When I do buy from corporations, I will prefer the ones who have the best ethics.
• I will prefer local small businesses.
• I will not break the law or do anything unethical in retaliation.
• I will continue to find new ways to resist.

I’ve got a few reasons why and some history lessons behind my motivations.  If you’d like to learn more, then continue reading.

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