What does it mean to even be “Weird” in a town that has commodified the concept to the point that it’s being used as currency? Dawn is sent down a rabbit hole of metatextual rumination after seeing an overgrown Oompa-Loompa walking down the street, and a huge discussion breaks out as to what “Keeping Portland Weird” even means, if everyone’s going to accept all this “weirdness” as “normal”? And what defines “Weirdness” anymore, anyway? You think those bumper sticker slogans we stole from Austin, TX applies to the really weird people living their weird lives east of 82nd? If being weird is a legitimate currency in Portland, then how much is sincerity actually worth? You know what’s weird? Trying to psychoanalyze an entire city.