Archives For June 2010

So don’t hate me, but this post isn’t a movie review. It’s about Joss Whedon and Morgan Spurlock’s upcoming documentary “Comic-Con Episode Four: A Fan’s Hope.” I think the title’s pretty self-explanatory.
They posted several calls to action, asking geeks to write them for a chance to be in the documentary. So I did. And I just got an email from the casting director and we’re supposed to have a phone interview this week, so wish me luck!
Below is my little blurb I submitted, explaining my undying love for Comic-Con.
 A little about myself
Name: Ashley Walton
Age: 23
Location: Spanish Fork, Utah
Occupation: Copywriter
Favorite ComicCon Memory: Dancing with Tim and Eric at the 2008 Adult Swim Party
Hobbies: Going to concerts, reading graphic novels, throwing LAN parties, playing Buffy on Xbox, watching Firefly for the fifth time, playing Star Wars monopoly, collecting DVDs, and watching every horror movie I can get my hands on.
Somewhere around April, I begin to feel giddy anticipation for the end of July. My first time at ComicCon, I was fourteen, and the reasons I loved it then are the same reasons I love it now— and it’s not just the super cool merchandise like zombie teddy bears and obscure T-shirts (although I do love my Fruity Oaty Bar tee). It happens to be the camaraderie, that and the sheer absurdity and whimsicalness of it all.
Every year I make the pilgrimage to geek Mecca with my brother. Together we battle lines snaking all the way to the ocean to enjoy panels featuring the pantheon of geek gods and watch 2-minute peeks of movies that will come out a year later. We accumulate geek points by playing our private game “Name That Obscure Cos-Play Character” and I knock his socks off with my vast knowledge of Hoth and Miyazaki. We wake up at unholy hours to beat the crowds and snag a coveted parking space beneath the convention center. We have long conversations about comic book writing and argue over the merit of The Big Bang Theory. We trek all over the gas lamp district of San Diego and find ourselves in sidewalk cafes or grocery stores inhabited by superheroes and steampunk gents. And there’s something really beautiful about the whole thing.
I run around trying to soak up everything I can. I don’t have just one obsession—I love it all. After deciding which day to wear my Beatrix Kiddo track suit and which day to wear my Jayne Cobb hat, I walk the immense distributer floor several times, yes, even completing vendor scavenger hunts to win Emily the Strange souvenirs and running through the crowds to be the first to snatch tickets to exclusive movie screenings, and of course, collecting the daily Warner Brothers’ bag to hold all my schwag. I test out the video games, peruse the artist’s corner, get snapshots with actors (and people with awesome costumes), have comics signed by writers, and wait in insanely long lines for the good stuff in Hall H (although braving the Twilight fans is the scariest thing at ComicCon).
I love ComicCon. Comic Con is a gathering of 150 thousand of my peeps. It’s amazing to find yourself in this realm where everyone cares about the same things you do, everyone gets your obscure references and jokes, everyone is comfortable with each other. There’s an unspoken code of acceptance. The guy who spends his nights barricaded in comic book stores playing Magic the Gathering fits in here. The insomniac who’s obsessed with beating Mass Effect 2 while buzzed on seven energy drinks fits in here. The fanatic who insists on always wearing their Star Trek turtle neck under their clothes fits in here. The casual blogger who hasn’t read a single comic book, but loves movies fits in here. Everyone has a neat little space. No one is turned away (well, unless you didn’t grab your ticket far enough in advance—then you’re screwed).
ComicCon is time set apart to bond with my fellow man, including my best friend, my brother. It’s a consecrated time of peace and unity, when everything feels right. It’s a time to put the world aside, and connect with your inner-kid. In my case, it’s a time when my entire family (all of us grown with jobs across the nation) takes a vacation and meets up in San Diego, because no one wants to miss out on the fun.