In this neo-political, uber-violent world we live in, it would be shameful to say I was "going off to war". Spending the week with a bunch of coo-ditch smelling retro-collectors who've all been chumpatized is not a painful or life threatening experience. It's not as bad as, say, having half your torso blown to sawdust. It is, however, quite traumatizing. Heading to the 2007 Comic Con is a lot like trudging down to boot camp. The one run by Gunnery Sgt. Tom 'Gunny' Highway in Heartbreak Ridge. This hefty twelve-sided dice, known in local circles as Armagedd-a-Con, is going to give me one hell of a work out.

Famine, pestilence, war, death. Those four-horse men are alive and well at the convention center this year. And they are waiting to consume my soul. Judging from the listed events, I'm going to spend the next five days running up and down the length of the convention floor, trying to get from one interview to the next. Last year was a dirty bomb filled with douche sweat and cheap booze. There was no telling which side was up. This year promises to be even worse. They've already sold out of Saturday badges, the first time that has ever happened in the history of the Con. And they've sold out of all their four-day badges. Officials are expecting twice as many people as last year.

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It's going to be a squirming sea of arms and legs. And grown women dressed up like Ghostbuster Dr. Egon Spengler, crying basketball sized tears because their fake proton machine isn't twirling the neon lights that have been jimmy-rigged to it.

I knew better than to drive away from my house with a smile on my face. Like my mom said, "That sounds like fun." Yeah, it sounds like fun. Kind of like how Agent Orange sounds bright and cheery until you choke on its putrid toxins. I said my proper goodbyes. Petted the dog. Fucked the wife. Ate a giant "last supper" type BBQ meal. And then got into the car and drove off. Ready to die. Strangely, my Ipod on shuffle played nothing but war songs all the way down.

Usually, there is something exciting to look forward to at these things. This year, it comes in the form of breakfast with Kevin Bacon. He's in San Diego promoting his new movie Death Sentence. It was directed by James Wan, that guy who directed the first Saw movie. And the trailer looks super rad, like a cock taco.

We are also going to be checking out the Lionsgate film Skinwalkers, we get to chat to the Shaun of the Dead guys about their new Hot Fuzz DVD, and I'll be doing exclusive video interviews with Clive Owen for his action flick "Shoot 'Em Up." There's a lot more, I just can't think of it at the moment.

We just got into the hotel. We're staying at the Manchester Hyatt. We're going to go check in right now. Stay tuned for more updates. We've got a ton of exclusives coming to you directly from the floor of the Con this year. If it costs me an arm or a rib, so be it.

We're here for you.


B. Alan




& Todd