Let My Wallet Go!

In True Confessions of a Fanboy (www.truefanboy.com -- *ahem!* shameless plug), one of the many subjects that I touched on happens to qualify pretty high on the list of worst vices known to fanboys the world over: DVD/Blue-ray collector boxed sets. You know what I’m talking about. Those over-produced, over-hyped, re-packaged editions of video compilations that seem to deliver high on style and low on substance every time out.

Needless to say, I’m a sucker for these types of collector editions of movies/ television shows/etc., that in truth are nothing more than glorified versions of content that I’ve already seen literally dozens of times and wouldn’t even feel like sitting through ever again. In fact, many of these sets are ones in which I *already* own the movie or show in question from the first three or four times it was offered to a mass market audience (it’s just that the hologram cover on that last one I got looks sooooo cool standing next to my newest sterilyte shelf). Now I don’t know about any of you out there, but, for example, I personally have completely lost track of the number of different versions of Superman I’ve got hiding in the deepest corners of my room. I mean, just off the top of my head, there’s the regular DVD, the 8-disc complete Christopher Reeve collection, the Director’s Cut, the one with the Margot Kidder audition, the one with the extended scenes that ended up in the sequel, the one with the pig who got really mad and “squealed” before Zod, the one where Ursa kicks the astronaut in the nuts before taking his Nasa patch, and on and on and on from there. Suffice to say, it’s just out of hand.

But with all of that said, and all of the versions of different movies that I own, and all the editions of cartoon shows I’ve seen one hundred thousand times and can just watch online whenever I feel like it anyway, the *ONE* movie that to this day I still have never owned is The Ten Commandments starring Charlton Heston. You see, ever since I was a wee little lad, it has been a yearly family tradition to gather 'round the tube, eat enough gefilte fish to feed a small army, and watch the story of Moses as he takes on the Pharaoh of Egypt in the grudge match of the century, as big Mo’ with his white beard and red robe shows up his big ‘Pho (that’s my witty mix of ‘pharaoh’ and ‘foe’ for all y’all ignant folk) with a sea-parting display the likes of which nobody had ever seen (who could ever forget the timeless “God opens the sea with a blast of his nostrils!”). Now I don’t know what the reason was, be it the fact that I always saw it every year, the incessant need to watch it during an actual television broadcast, or (more likely) the sad truth that I had already spent all my money on something else, but I had actually never thought much of owning the movie on DVD/Blu-ray before. Never, that is, until NOW:

The Ten Commandments DVD/Blu-ray Combo Pack!

That’s right, fellow Hebros (witty combo #2 “Hebrews” and “bros” – booyah!)…feast your spaghetti-starved eyes (it is Passover, after all) on this bad boy. This one has got it all. We’re talking about a DVD/Blu-ray combo box set that literally parts like the Red Sea (!!), revealing two Ten Commandments tablets which house your multiple discs! And if that’s not cool enough, also included are treasures from the MGM vault, a special commemorative book, an original 1956 souvenir program, and more additional swag than you can shake a staff-turned-snake at. Oh, and it’s numbered, too (who cares if there are about 100,000 of these?!). Now if that type of package isn’t tailor-made for an impulse purchase, I don’t know what is… and I don’t wanna know!

Of course, I’m still guaranteed to be there in line when they eventually release yet another version of this movie, which I’m hoping will include a limited edition box of matzo. But until that day comes, I guess this latest version will just have to “tide” me over. (Get it?? “tide”??? like the ‘tide’ of a parting sea???? Haha! I slay me!!!)

Turn Out That Light!

I’ve been spending the past couple of days physically (and more importantly, mentally) preparing for a major renovation of my room this weekend that has been in the works for quite awhile now. The point, as always, is to make things more manageable so I can continue this sick and twisted collecting lifestyle of mine. In case you were curious, I’m finally at a point where I have to do this once or twice every year now, with each specific renovation ‘project’ consisting of anywhere from one to three action items. This weekend, in particular, has two:

True Fanboy Room Renovation Action Item #1: All windows must be boarded up for the summer.

I used to tell myself that “a *little* sunlight on my precious possessions here and there wasn’t so bad,” and actually believe it! Sadly, I can live this lie no longer. It’s simple physics, folks. We’re already in April. The days are getting longer. The birds are chirping louder. The seasons are changing ever more dramatically. And with the change of seasons comes summer. And with summer comes dreaded cursed HEAT. And as any TRUE fanboy knows, heat is the death of just about anything worth collecting. It ruins comics pages, spoils cardbacks, melts toy plastics/rubber/paintjobs/etc., and ruins the collectability of just about anything else I dare stuff in my room. Granted, I’ve got one of the best mini-fans money can buy, strategically placed with the precision of a laser surgeon to equally distribute air to each minute available spec of free space my room has to offer. And true, the fan needs to work less and less with every passing week, as said level of free space decreases with each new reckless convention purchase I make. So yeah, cool air gets where it needs to go when it needs to get there. But really, people, could that ever be enough? I think not! So call my collection "Team Edward." Call it "Team Jacob." Truly, it doesn’t matter what vampire metaphor the kids these days might go with. The bottom line is that after this weekend, not a single ray of sunlight shall reach any of my comics, toys, or other related chachkies during this long, hot summer.

Bringing us to our next order of business…

True Fanboy Room Renovation Action Item #2: Mandatory reorganization of sterilyte shelving system, orchestrated with the specific goal of opening up at least 24 inches of available space, 20 inches of which will immediately be occupied by eight newly-purchased sterilytes, which have been measured to fit *perfectly* on top of one another so that they seamlessly reach from the floor to the ceiling with only two (!!!) millimeters of space being wasted at the very top!

This one is a little more complicated, my little Gaga monsters. You see… I… er…. Eh…. Ah, who the fuck am I kidding. There’s no way I’m going to be able to complete this second action item. I’ll just cross my fingers and pray that the whole window-boarding thing goes off without a hitch. And while I’m crossing my fingers, I might as well cross my legs as well. Because with the kind of drama this weekend's renovation is sure to bring, I think I may just shit my pants. Yo Joe.

Tag ‘Em and Bag ‘Em!

Trending today was Nicholas Cage’s stolen copy of Action Comics #1, which for those of you living under a rock your entire life, features the very first appearance of the Man of Steel himself, Superman! This little sumbitch of a comic dates all the way back to 1938, so it goes without saying that it can fetch itself quite a price on the open (or not-so-open) market. Anyway, it turns out that Cage’s copy was found in an abandoned storage unit in Los Angeles, of all places. By the way, this comic was stolen from Cage over a decade ago, way back when he could actually make rent; so to confirm, Cage himself was not the thief. Either way, however, there is no denying that this week’s little discovery is quite the ‘national treasure’ (ha!), if I do say so myself.

Now that five minutes have passed and you’re done laughing at my joke from the end of the last paragraph, the question I’m sure you must all be asking yourselves is “how in the blue hell is it even officially known that this is actually Cage’s missing copy??” A good question indeed. Well, true believer, apparently it turns out that each of the 100 copies of this rare and worship-worthy gem that are known to exist have literally been ‘tagged’ with unique ink markings (much like Angelina Jolie before she had her doctor laser-tag “Billy Bob” off her ass, or whereever she had it placed). So it really is possible to identify each documented existing copy.

Now I don’t know about all of you, but I would be pretty damn excited if I had a way of tagging all of my own obsessive possessions so that no other nerd could ever lay claim to anything of mine that dared wander from my sight. So appealing is this concept, that I’ve spent the last couple of hours running through possible scenarios in which I could accomplish this. So far, I’ve only managed to think of a way to ‘tag’ a significant other, but I won’t go into that because: 1. it washes off, even if the icky feelings don’t, and 2. I’ve got enough problems without all you people blaming me for your sexual assault charges. Figure it out. And while you’re at it, let me know if you figure out this whole ‘collectible tagging’ thing as well. Now that I know that a washout like Nic Cage can enjoy the benefits, I pretty much won’t rest until I’m living the dream as well.

JoeCon!

That’s right, bitches—JoeCon. And no, I don’t mean a gathering of fools named Joe. Nor am I referring to the conning of said fools. Rather, this is the annual pilgrimage to some randomly selected lucky city in which all things G.I. Joe converge for a weekend of complete and unadulterated awesomeness. This is the big one. And it’s got it all. We’re talking semi-attractive harlots who suddenly become totally attractive upon donning their leather-studded Baroness body suits. We’re talking not-so-attractive Hasbro hotshots who suddenly become -– er, stay not-so-attractive -– yet suddenly earn extra cool points in their pimping of totally sweet new Joe product. We’re talking “Yo Joe” chants at 5:00 in the morning from an adjacent hotel room. We’re talking those same harlots in the Baroness body suits recoiling in disgust from the bad breath those nachos just gave me. We’re talking multiple trips to the potty courtesy of the very same nachos. In short, we’re talking FUN.

This year’s FUN took place at Disney World in Orlando. Now honestly, how exactly anyone was expected to afford both the various limited edition (e.g. – expensive) convention exclusives AND the standard fee access to the Disney parks themselves is way beyond this true believer. I sure as hell wasn’t able to do it. I mean, look at the choices I was faced with: Buy delicious plastic men which will appreciate in value over the course of just a few hours, along with as many duplicate purchases as possible to sell on ebay (to all the pathetic bastards who just weren’t willing to take a second mortgage out on their homes and take the trip out) in hopes of breaking even… OR go meet Mickey, Donald, Goofy, and Minnie (possibly in a Baroness leather body suit). Take a wild guess which door I went through on that one.

I won’t bore you with every last detail of my weekend in Orlando (I’m guessing you don’t have all week here), but suffice it to say, I didn’t do my room at home any favors in the available space department. In fact, one of the exclusives was so massive that I needed to ship it out via UPS since it had absolutely no hope of fitting on the return plane’s overhead compartment (and I sure as shit wasn’t going to check it and trust it in the hands of those clueless baggage handlers, lest my precious possessions end up crushed, bent beyond recognition, and shipped to Zimbabwe). So I ask you, what idiot spends $56 on shipping after already having pissed away what little money he had to begin with at JoeCon? THIS idiot right here. And if you don’t believe me, come check out the hotels at next year’s con. I’ll be the douchebag screaming “Yo Joe” at 5:00am.