BRAIN DRAIN

Sure, in some cities in the world cars like these don’t turn heads as much. Heck, Europe has a whole bunch of them, and I’m pretty sure that in cities where the glitterati are a dime a dozen (here’s looking at you, Hollywood!) luxury cars like these can’t be far behind.

But come on. A Lamborghini? Casually parked? On a sidewalk in the big city?

Fuhgedaboudit!

Some time after I got back to New York, I passed by Macy’s while doing some errands. It so happened that the department store had a “Flower Parade” theme going, with the interior decked out in any manner of exotic flowers and arrangements.

Pictured above is the “bouqet of the day” from when I dropped by. Some might argue that it’s rather plain, especially compared to floats and props from other parades that often air on television. Yet having seen it myself, I think this one is nothing to sneeze at. Unless you happen to be allergic!

Last of Three Parts: The Souvenir

This is the story of the one souvenir I got for myself from the 2008 NY Comic Con. But first, a picture:

That right there is as close as I got to meeting Geoff Johns and asking for his autograph. When I found his table in the center of the show floor’s “Artist Alley”, he was already beseiged by a large number of fans, shaking hands, making conversation and patiently signing some of their comics. And boy was I jealous! See, I didn’t have anything on me for him to sign — I’ve already transferred most of my comics back home — and the one title of his I recently bought — the Infinite Crisis trade — was lying peacefully on my apartment shelf.

I began to wonder whether I should bother buying a comic — any comic — just to score an autograph. That brought about another idea: why don’t I first look up who else was around, so I know whom to line up for. Yet one more thought: if I were to get someone’s autograph, whose would I really, really want? Jim Lee was supposed to be there. I heard that Neil Gaiman and Mike Mignola were, too, though I was willing to bet the lines for them would be absurdly long. Yet as much as I love these guys, there was really just one name at the top of the list:

Darwyn Cooke.

Of all the comics I’ve picked up in the past three years, DC: The New Frontier is the one I’ve enjoyed the most. It’s just a fantastic piece of storytelling and artwork, and to my mind exemplifies everything I look for in a comic. As a consequence, I am convinced that Darwyn Cooke is absolutely brilliant.

So I looked him up and found his table.

He wasn’t there.

Disappointing to be sure, but it’s not like I had anything for him to sign, either. My copies of the New Frontier trades were in Manila, and the animated adaptation I’d purchased the week before was likewise on my shelf beside that copy of Infinite Crisis. “Oh well,” I thought to myself on my way to continue my rounds about the exhibition floor.

Yet I couldn’t get the idea out of my head. What better souvenir than a signed comic book? The artists were around, and the retailers in attendance were offering discounts like nobody’s business. Hence, I began scouring the shelves looking for something I wouldn’t mind adding to my collection and worth getting autographed. This wasn’t as easy as it sounded: there were simply too many titles to choose from, each being measured against the yardstick of whether I was willing to spend for it.

Pressed for time, I made the following decision: I’d spend for a hardcover version of Darwyn Cooke’s Batman: Ego and Other Tales on the off chance he’d still be in the building for signings. If he was, well and good. If not, at least I end up with this collection of his Batman stories that I didn’t have before.

I pulled it off one of the store’s shelves and paid for it, then made my way back to the Artist Alley to try my luck.

He was there, a line of fans quickly forming in front of his table. Practically every one of them brought their prized copies of New Frontier for him to sign, making me momentarily the only person in line with a different comic in tow. To some degree, this made me sad because I would have also wanted to have my New Frontier books signed, too. But we play with the cards we’re dealt, and before I knew it I was next in line.

He was a real pro. He took my copy, flipped it open to the first page and pulled out a silver tipped pen in order to write on the dark colored paper. He scribbled his trademark signature then began to draw on the page, adding a little doodle of the Dark Knight just for good measure. “Here you go!” he said as he handed the now autographed book back to me, a friendly smile on his face. I was beside myself with delight and excitement that it was all I could do to say thank you, which he acknowledged with a gracious nod.

Thus, I was probably the happiest person to leave the Javits Center that Saturday.

And that’s how an autographed Darwyn Cooke comic became my souvenir from the 2008 NY Comic Con.

(Previously: Impressions and Random Pictures)

Second of Three Parts: Random Pictures

Alas, I didn’t have a right and proper camera with me at the Comic Con — not that I’m any good as a photographer — so I had to settle for using the one built into my celphone. As a result, the pictures below tend to be a bit dodgy (I had a few more, but they weren’t much better) but they’re good enough for a meager post by way of photoblogging.

Manhattan’s Jacob Javits Center is a pretty big place, so the Comic Con had multiple entrances, all of which were decked out as above. I couldn’t find a vantage point from which I could take a shot of the show floor for some perspective, but the lights in this picture should give some indication of the size of the exhibition area.

Even before entering the show floor there were comic book paraphernalia around. Naturally, these were popular for the token souvenir photo, especially the life-size superhero statues such as Batman’s (see below; there was also one of the Man of Steel, but it wasn’t nearly as awesome).

One thing I did expect to see were people dressed up as Jedi or Stormtroopers or any number of Star Wars characters (I’m pretty sure there was a Wookie or two in attendance as well). So none of that surprised me. But I was quite impressed by these detailed statues of Yoda and Princess Leia.

Sure, they might not look like anything special (especially that blurry photo), but I happen to like mock-ups of cartoon characters, especially when they’re done this well.

Previously, I mentioned that there were a few video game companies present in full force. Naturally, this created many opportunities for cross-promotion, such as the way that Konami was drumming up publicity for their new Hellboy game, The Science of Evil. Others, were there just to sell video-game related paraphernalia, such as Square-Enix.

While I’m aware that the above are probably the worst photos in the history of bad photos, there was no way to get a shot of the entire Konami booth without a wide-angle lens. As for the Squeenix booth, this is what their booth looked like from the side. The decor was very minimal, and their display of Final Fantasy and Kingdom Hearts figurines (among others) ended up buried behind throngs of onlooking fans. All the same, I’m sure my brother would’ve loved to have been there to check out the Squeenix offerings for himself.

Speaking of things my brother missed out on, there was a significant amount of anime and manga at the convention. Indeed, if there was one booth he would’ve wanted to browse through had he been around, I’m guessing it would have been Tokyopop’s.

It should be noted that Viz Media was also around, but I didn’t have the time to check out their manga lounge.

Still, there was no denying that mainstream Western comics took center stage at the convention, especially because it offered the opportunity for fans to meet some of their favorite artists and writers . Going once around the show floor I managed to see quite a few, such as…

…Mark Texiera, whom I remember for his work on Ghost Rider…

…Inker Scott Hanna…

…John Romita Sr. and Jr, here pictured during a signing event at the Marvel booth (the line for which was impossibly long!)…

…Tom Raney (at least I think this is Tom Raney)…

…Steve Epting…

…and Mark Buckingham, although this is as close as I ever came to meeting the guy. In fact, for a brief moment I contemplated swiping the handwritten note on the premise that he had written it…but that wouldn’t be right, would it?

And yes, because the NY Comic Con is a big deal among fan circles, it enjoyed extensive coverage from the usual industry news outfits.

Of course, collectors of all persuasions had much to look forward to in the form of comics, comics and more comics!

Naturally, there were huge discounts to be had all over. What’s more, some bargain stalls were selling really old comics for dimes, by far the cheapest deals in town.

Sure, some of the merchandise available for purchase had very little to do with comics (Webkinz?), but at least it ensured that even kids not entirely sold on comics could look forward to something. As for older patrons, there was no shortage of things to vie for their attention. Take for instance the exhibition staff: interestingly, a lot of those working the show floors for the organizers were actually volunteers, many of whom traipsed about dressed in some costume or other. This brings me to the final photo of this post, and the tongue-in-cheek remark I can’t resist to make:

Princess Leia’s slave girl outfit. Teasing adolescent fantasies since 1983.

‘Nuff said.

(Previously: Impressions. Next: The Souvenir)

The street on which I live in the Big Apple happens to be the UPS staging area for deliveries in our neighborhood. Every day there are one or two of their trucks parked on the street, usually with the compartment doors open and a delivery person scurrying about seeing the many packages off to their destinations. In fact, the presence of the folks in brown is such a part of day to day life in these parts that most of us who reside here already know our usual delivery lady, often popping our heads into her truck just to ask if a package we’re expecting is already on hand.

I never gave much thought to how familiar we’ve become with the UPS people until I came home after doing some errands the other day to find a note posted on our building door.

On closer inspection:

Notwithstanding my tendency to misplace my keys, the message wasn’t meant for me. Still, it’s oddly comforting to know that if I ever do lose them at least one other person can be trusted to return them should they be found. Something tells me that there’s a great advert for door-to-door delivery here just waiting to be made.

Just a little Star Wars humor for fellow geeks out there.

The ad* belongs to the marketing collateral SpikeTV used to drum up viewership for their Star Wars weekend marathon. The above particularly caught my attention because of the in-joke. It makes a strange amount of sense, doesn’t it?

*The image is just a screenshot from the channel’s website as I couldn’t find a digital copy of the actual poster I’ve seen around town. But it’s practically the same thing.

Here’s a picture of the neo-Business class cabin configuration I encountered on this most recent overseas trip. It’s not the best of photos, taken discreetly from my seat using a camera phone, but it’s good enough for illustrative purposes.

Obviously, the seats are arranged at an angle to the aisle (including the seats by the cabin walls). Effectively, this kills at the very least an entire column of seats for the airline, which is why I’m not overly surprised if these aircraft are only used for short-haul flights where the revenue impact isn’t as severe. Objectively, the seats themselves are really something: they’re comfortable, have a set footrest that “merges” with the extendable legrest, and come with a relatively large stowable table and a pull-out widescreen 16:9 video monitor. However, they are designed to give each passenger their privacy, which can be alienating (or problematic) for those traveling with others. This much I’ve seen firsthand, as on my flight there was a group traveling with an elderly family member that required continued assistance, which would have been much easier to arrange with more conventional seating.

Of course, the obvious objection to be raised in terms of the aesthetics is that these seats more and more resemble office cubicles, albeit relatively luxurious ones. Could this be a case of taking the “business class” label a little bit too far?

Seen at a bookstore in Lucerne, Switzerland, during the family jaunt there last summer. At the time, I didn’t really get a chance to piece together what the game was about as we were just passing by. Since then, I’ve learned that this is a product of Rio Grande Games, who describe it thus:

It is 1821, and for 250 years the Philippine Islands have been under the thumb of the Spanish crown. But, in the end, the Spaniards do not really control everything. In the shadow of the colonial power, self-willed natives have established secret maritime trade with neighboring islands and the Asiatic mainland. Using odd-looking punts and fragile bamboo barks, these black market traders cram their boats with nutmeg, silk, jade, and ginseng, and set sail to smuggle them into MANILA. Succes in each venture is uncertain, as the seaworthiness of both boats and captains is poor. To add to their woes, pirates lie in wait to plunder boats that cannot escape them. Given all this, it is not surprising that wares that reach the black markets in MANILA command high prices, making the venture worth the risk for those who succeed. The black market dealers use accomplices to ensure they get the wares, bribe pilots to aid their cargoes and hinder others, and insure their cargoes against failure. And a few wealthy merchants hire pirates to attack the black market boats and secretly pocket the profits from these raids.

It’s funny: while I wouldn’t be surprised if the game were laden with historical inaccuracies — I seem to recall seeing a picture of a golden buddha on the rear box artwork that just seemed so…wrong — that brief description right there is probably more exciting than most of the social studies courses on Philippine history that I’ve had to take in my lifetime. If only history could be sold in the same way, no?

Here’s the setup: While walking around the mall happily minding my own business, a lady with her kids in tow managed to cut in front of me. I wasn’t really paying any attention to them until I heard the “mom” say, “Ok! Let’s get this guy some clothes.”

For some reason, something about the way she said it puzzled me so I ended up looking right at them. At first glance, nothing struck me as out of the ordinary — a mother at the mall with her kids is hardly noteworthy — and I began to think “What in the world was she talking about?”

And only then did I finally notice what was wrong:

I can’t even begin to imagine what that kid did to his clothes!

If our tree is anything to go by, it’s shaping up to be one fantastic Christmas.