Tales From The Con, Episode 1: Consecrations

This tale begins much like any other. It starts with a dude and a lady (pictured above) who take a journey deep into the heart of California's cultural wilderness. While on this journey, the pair encounter many encounters, both terrible and profound. What follows is a serious of photographic examples of said encountered encounters. Please, try not to go insane. Thank you.
After spending many days wandering through Disneyland's many wonders and terrors (side note: I'm 99% sure that I saw Billy Corgan of The Smashing Pumpkins whilst waiting in line for the Matterhorn. Alas, I was too chicken to find out for sure), we found ourselves in Hollywood. Here's a picture of said dude with R2-D2's and C-3PO's footprints. After some time journeying, the pair ran into another pretty awesome pair of journey folk. Behold their triumph as they stand upon the shores of Laguna Beach!But what's this? The pair's surroundings have changed in no small way! They pose within the bowels of the mighty exhibition hall of the San Diego Comic-Con! Though this picture is quite awesome, it still does not manage to capture the complete pandemonium of the exhibition hall. That is one fine lookin' couple though.
















Okay, here are a few pictures from within. On top, you'll notice our dude with Snake Eyes and Storm shadow. We took this picture specifically for Ryan, so he could see a small fraction of the overall coolness he missed while not attending. Then there's our dude being a dork in front of a Dark Horse/Star Wars display. Finally, a set of Iron Man prototype suits, courtesy of Stark Industries.














On to the panels! First we have Eliza Dushku, Sigourney Weaver, Zoe Saldana, and Elizabeth Mitchell talking about what it means to be a woman in the sci-fi world. It was pretty interesting, except for the parts when Eliza Dushku talked. The second picture we have is from the Kick-Ass panel (it's a sweet comic book that they're making into what looks to be a sweet comic book movie). Left to right, there's Matthew Vaughn (director), Jane Goldman (screenwriter), Mark Millar (comic book writer), John Romita, Jr. (comic book artist), Clark Duke (plays a dude in the movie), and Christopher Mintz-Plasse (plays another dude in the movie, also known as McLovin). Oh, and later on Chloe Moretz (plays a little girl assassin) showed up. Nicholas Cage is also in the movie, but he copped out like a chump. They showed some clips, and it looks like a very special kind of rad. If you haven't read Kick-Ass, rectify the situation! Now!
But wait! Who's this with our dude? Do you recognize him? No? Well! That, my friends, is Mike Mignola (creator of Hellboy). On a final run through the exhibition hall, we chanced upon him as he was leaving. I was unprepared for this, but was glad to have gotten a pic with him. Oh, and he signed my Dark Horse preview book. Thug life!














To conclude episode 1 of our tale, here we have our lady and dude exiting the premises to find sustenance and end their first day of the Con. But do not despair, dear reader. There are three more days of Comic-Con action upon which to expound. Keep it tuned here for more from the heart of geekery. So say we all!

Items of Interest

Drag Me To Hell: Remember that one time when I bitched about horror movies and was really looking forward to Sam Raimi's return to the world of horror? Well, my hopes were not for naught! Sheree, Wong, and I went to see this film on opening night (sadly, it wasn't very full, and I think it was only playing on one screen) and despite it's PG-13 rating, it managed to scare the bejeezus out of all of us. It felt good to have such an exhilarating celluloid experience. It's been a very long time since I've had a movie rip into my mindgrapes so brutally. It's too bad that shitty horror movies like Saw still manage to make more money than the good ones, but I suppose that's the way it works.

Gogol Bordello: I've also mentioned these guys in a blog post (I'm not going to link to it, though). They played at Vegoose a few years back and were awesome. This time around, they played at the Murray Theater, and were equally awesome. I like to think of Gogol Bordello and Arcade Fire as two sides of the same coin. Both bands have a large roster, draw upon a lot of musical talent, and are cool. Gogol Bordello is more frenzied and explosive, whereas Arcade Fire is more reserved and brooding. And that, my friends, is an attempt to sound like I know stuff about stuff.

The Goon: This has become one of my favorite comic book diversions. It's drawn and written by a dude named Eric Powell, and it's like we share the same part of our brains where we can't stop thinking about zombies, monsters, and thugs who stab zombies and monsters in the eye. In a bit of crazy awesomeness, Hellboy gets pulled into an issue of The Goon, and together they do battle with a horde of Communist mollusks that fly around via balloons strapped to their backs.

Other things that are still cool, but that I'm not going to expound upon due to self-explanatory coolness:

Lost season 5 finale!
Pushing Daisies!
The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman!
Castlevania: Order of Ecclesia on DS!
Steve Wiebe's Donkey Kong-quest at E3!
Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix by Phoenix!

There's Always Room for Giallo

I suppose this all started as a result of the following unholy union: iTunes+Castlevania: Symphony of the Night+morbid curiosity= ?. It was a cold, dark night. While slouching in my chair, eyes half closed with a clear stream of drool issuing from the corner of my mouth, I was poring over the current Genius recommendations that iTunes had for me. The songs all bled together into a cacophonous mass of sights and sounds. Unable to handle the sheer psychological stress of the depths of which I was traversing, I blacked out. When I came to, my computer screen greeted me with this disturbing image. Had I been in full posession of my faculties, I would have just closed iTunes and forgotten that the whole thing had ever happened. But at this particular moment in time, I did click, and I did listen. As the audible insanity of Goblin assaulted my mind grapes (as it is now assaulting yours!), a slew of haunting yet familiar images started to form within my nebulous brain. A castle, inverted. A male hero who was drawn with a very feminine facial structure. Bats, fish-men, skeletons, zombies, and...Death Incarnate! Was it? It was! Castlevania: Symphony of the Night! The salacious synths and guillotined guitars of Goblin could have been pulled directly from the haunted screens of the aforementioned graphical distraction! Having long abandoned my sanity, I probed deeper into the mystery of Goblin. After wandering lonely online avenues that I will not reveal, my search lead me to an Italian dude, his trilogy of witchcraft, and the terror of....Giallo. THE DUDE: Dario Argento, master of Mediterrenean macabre! THE TRILOGY: Le Tri Madre (The Three Mothers), wanderers across the wide world of witchcraft! GIALLO: It's description is to terrible for my fingers to form into words...behold, if you dare! The unbridled terror that presented itself after my frenzy-induced Google search caused me to black out for a second, and more prolonged period of time. I awoke around dusk of the following day, covered in dozens of ham and cheese Hot Pocket wrappers and lying face down in an unfamiliar parking lot. I arose to observe my surroundings. The parking lot belonged to a local video rental chain. Disobeying the last shreds of humanity that were faintly screaming for me to halt and return to my normal, God-fearing ways, I entered. I was drawn to the horror section like a vulture to a rotting bison carcass. Almost purely involuntarily, my hands reached for Suspiria and Inferno(comprising volumes one and two of the trilogy) but where was the third? Where was Mother of Tears? Ignoring all sense of public decency and decorum, I approached the counter attendant and urged her to contribute to my insanity by locating volume three of the trilogy. When she could not, I thrashed and I bellowed, knocking over a shelving unit filled with Jujy Fruits, Sno-Caps, Dots, and Junior Mints...sweet memories of a world of which I was no longer a part. I fled the scene with my prize and swiftly returned to my abode to obliterate what was left of my sound mind. I watched them both without pause, but without the third film, something was incomplete. Now, I am but a wanderer, searching for this last volume that will either bring me peace...or damnation.

Inglorious!

No Need to Drag Me. I'll Go Willingly.

As I've surveyed the current state of horror movies, I've discovered that the genre is totally letting me down. The last original horror movie that I've seen was James Gunn's splatterrific epic Slither. That was back in 2006, dammit! Two whole years have gone by without a single horror movie that did not fit into the following categories: Saw-inspired "torture porn," or franchise reboots (there are probably exceptions, but where the hell are they? Why can't I watch them? That's another thing that's been bugging me. The good movies are hard to see, and when I can see them, I have to put up with the elitist dicks over at the Broadway or the unshaven posers at the Tower. Eff them). The problem with the former category is that the thrill factor does not come from well-paced tension or grisly atmosphere, but from flat out brutality. There's no story to speak of, the acting is awful, and there's no depth at all. It's just a random collage of gruesome death scenes that really have not point other than to display someone's head getting crushed by a sledgehammer. Now, let me take this opportunity to say that I'm one who appreciates a good sledgehammer head-crushing. I love sledgehammer head-crushings. Love them! But sledgehammer head-crushings have to be perpetrated in a certain way to be truly meaningful. There's gotta be a message behind it, man. Anywho, Saw and the whole pathetic goth teenage fanbase who love the hell out of it have really screwed things up.
I won't say too much about the reboots, because their mere existence is unnecessary and shows a shocking lack of creativity on behalf of everyone who has ever been involved with them. Plus, they make the originals less cool by default. It's a shame.
In light of this current horror recession, I've got a little tiny bit of hope. Sam Raimi is coming down from his Spider Man ivory tower to plumb the depths of horror again with Drag Me to Hell (kickass title). I'm happy about this because Raimi knows how to make a good horror movie. Evil Dead="the ultimate experience in grueling terror (it says that on the box!)" Behold!

Let's Get Psyched!

And lo, the reason I haven't been paying much attention to my blog has come to a screeching and emotionally ambiguous halt. For those of you who don't know (or those of you who are just insensitive), I've been student teaching at a middle school for about two and a half months. It's given me time to think about my choice of profession from beneath its own crushing boot heel.
I can say that it didn't scare me away from teaching, but it also didn't fill me with a philanthropic desire to "reach" every student and convert gang members into "decent" folk. Anyway, it's a lot to think about still. In the meantime, here's a playlist of songs that kept me psyched up.

"Wolf Like Me" by TV On the Radio: I owe some thanks to Ben for putting this song on a cool mix CD, and some to Ryan for inviting me and Sheree to see Local H where they did a crackingly good cover of it. When the moon is round and full, gonna teach you tricks that'll blow your mongrel mind.

"Seventeen Years" by Ratatat: Nothing like seeing what kind of sounds can actually come out of an electric guitar via synth-exorcism to get one psyched. This song psyches me up for just about anything. I'm psyched just thinking about it.

"The Mountain" by Heartless Bastards: Great song. I am still really trying to like the whole album, however. Spilt blood on this place/it only echoes true all through the day.

"Twilight Omens" by Franz Ferdinand: This album in contrast is spectacularrr (roll the "r" for the correct emphasis). "Ulysses" also gets me pretty damn psyched. Anywho, I like this one because it's got one of the best lines that I've heard in a song: I typed your number into my calculator where it spelled a dirty word when you turn it upside down.

"Sex on Fire" by Kings of Leon: That's right. Sex on mutha-huggin' fi-yah! I heard this song one day on KRCL, which prompted me to get the album. For a very long time I've been hesitant about Kings of Leon, but this monster of rock did me in. Hot as a fever/rattling bones/I could just taste it/taste it.

"Heads Will Roll" by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs: Even though I hate dancing because 1. I look stupid when I do it and 2. I know that I look stupid when I do it, this is a good song. If I looked cool/sexy when I danced, I'd totally dance to this song. Off with your head/dance 'til you're dead.

I'm grateful for good psych-up songs. They helped me lots with the peculiar student teaching experience, and they kick ass for other reasons too.

Brain Damage. On Purpose!

I've been student teaching for a little over a month now. It's going okay, but there comes a time every few days where my brain needs to decompress. I've found that logging many hours on Fallout 3 was a good way to do this. As the days go on, however, it takes a bit more than shooting mutants in the face with a combat shotgun to successfully get my brain back to its natural, pudding-like state. Luckily, I rediscovered a box set of DVD's that I purchased way back when DVD's were the new shit, and I was working at a respectable mall retail outlet known as Sam Goody/Suncoast. Yes, let it be known that among my very first DVD purchases was Full Moon pictures' Puppet Master series. I don't even want to think of how much I paid for it (this was back when one DVD sold for like, 25 bucks, and I worked in the mall...), but I had to have it at that point in my life (high school). You see, once when Ben and I were younger, we managed to rent ourselves copies of Puppet Master and Puppet Master II. We watched them both back to back, and, due to the fact that we were both young and impressionable, we thought that they were badass (well, I thought they were badass. I'm not sure what Ben's first impressions were).

Upon rediscovering this nostalgic gem, I decided to make watching it in its entirety a part of my weekly decompression ritual. Here's what happened (and did I mention the box set consists of SEVEN movies? Yeah, that's right)....

Puppet Master: Nazis! The Bodega Bay Inn! Puppet POV shots! Old man suicide! Psychics! Dead friend (or is he?)! Weird and unecessary sex scenes! Grown men being overpowered by tiny dolls! That one has a drill for a head! This one has knives for hands! What? That one pukes up leeches? Gross! Reanimation (he wasn't dead)! Green blood, as opposed to red! Ending?

Puppet Master II: Grave digging! Cattle mutilations! Hillbillies! In California? More, different psychics! What? A new puppet? Why, he has a flame thrower hand! Head stab, followed by improvised brain surgery! Wait, psychics? Mysterious bandage-faced man! Bandages come off...oh! It's the guy who shot himself in the first one! Well preserved! Man-sized puppet body? Soul transferrance! Wait, woman-sized puppet body? I fell asleep! Woke up...how did the woman puppet come to life! Winnebago!

Puppet Master III: The past! WWII! More, different Nazis! Six-armed cowboy puppet! Hitler puppet gets shot! Kids laugh! Nazis rage! Random nudity! Sex scene with old Nazi man! Puppet six-gun attack! Oh! Puppets=dead Jewish friends! Pale Gestapo dude! Meat hooks! Wha?

Puppet Master 4: Lack of roman numerals! Psychics? No! Scientists! Robotics! Oh! I get it! Egyptian demon god! Mini-demon puppets! Smarmy 1990's guy! Psychic girlfriend! Puppet discovery! Killing? Yes! But, no? Evil puppets turn good! Puppet on puppet battles! Cheesy dialogue!

Puppet Master 5: More Egyptian terror! Same main guy! Rick! Omega project? Decapitron! Frankenstein-like reanimation scene! Puppet on puppet electrocutions! Close up on Rick! Ending!

Curse of the Puppet Master: College! Roadside attraction! Shy gas station attendant! Bullies! Old man vs. young man! Recruitment! Weird dreams! Sexual frustration! Bullies! Crotch stab! Puppet/human hybrid! Stock footage!

Retro Puppet Master: Awful accents! He was French? Old sorcerer! Pursued by mummies! His friends die? No! Soul transferrance! Wooden puppets? Dangerous! Who cares anymore!

And there you have it. The things I go through for brain decompression.

FUN FACT: The puppet known as Tunneler looks an awful lot like Alessandro Juliani AKA Lt. Felix Gaeta (it's the lips, I think). Behold!