Alright, the insanity officially starts tomorrow.  You can head on over to the Countdown To Halloween at midnight tonight to get the full list of the 2011 blog-a-thon participants, and stay tuned all month long for daily Halloween-y articles.  As I mentioned yesterday, I've run out of spooky monster animation cels to share, but I have plenty of fun in store.  Along with my daily selection of vintage monster mask posts, I've also decided to pepper the month with some observations about Horror's renaissance man, Vincent Price (considering 2011 would have been his 100th year on the planet.)  Granted, the Vincentennial was technically this past May, but I think the world can do with a bit more Price-y reverie.  As a sort of sneak peek I thought I'd share this reminiscence that I wrote earlier in the year for the Strange Kids Club…

Growing up in the 80s, my first introduction to Vincent Price was most likely while watching re-runs of the 60s era Batman TV show where he guest-starred as the dastardly Egghead, but he was always around haunting the odd corners of the pop culture zeitgeist.  Whether it was his turn as Vincent Van Ghoul in the 13 Ghosts of Scooby-Doo, as a pitchman for everything from monster vitamins to Tilex, or as the lonely aging Geppetto/Dr. Frankenstein-esque character The Inventor in Edward Scissorhands, Price has always been lurking in every dark shadow waiting to delight the world with his macabre presence.  It wasn't until a few years ago that I really started taking an interest in his work (on and off the screen.)  In fact I'd never actually watched one of his films until I turned 30 and decided to dig into one of those mega-50-horror-movie-DVD-sets that you find floating around the discount bins during the Halloween season.

I'd settled on The Last Man on Earth as it sounded like a fun flick to watch on a Saturday morning, something that Elvira or Grandpa Munster would have shown on one of the UHF stations when I was a kid.  I figured this would justify the $10 bucks I spent on the set, and I'd finally get to see what all this Vincent Price hoopla was all about.  86 minutes later I sat in front of the TV in stunned silence.  I'm not sure exactly what I was expecting, but I was taken aback at how good this flick was.  The story shinned through the horribly scratchy and faded public domain quality print of the film, and though you could tell that this was a very low budget production, Vincent Price elevated the film with his masterful presence (even through the dubbing and voice-over.)  Originally released in 1964, the film bridges the gap between the Technicolor schlock and gore of Hammer and Herschell Gordon Lewis and the solemn gritty reality of Night of the Living Dead, helping to usher in a quarter century of amazingly influential modern horror.

This wasn't the first time Vincent Price helped to change the tide for horror.  Films like House of Wax and The Fly were pivotal in endearing a new generation to monster movies in the 50s, years after the luster of the Universal heyday had almost faded away.  When you also consider his short stint as the Invisible Man (in the first sequel to the 1933 film, as well as a cameo in Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein), his work with gimmick maestro William Castle, and his time with Roger Corman and American International Pictures (bringing the work of Edgar Allen Poe to the screen), you can see what his reputation is cemented as the master of horror.

Though I love all of his contributions to the genre (having devoured his catalog in the last three years), I've found a much more personal connection to the man outside of horror.  Through a myriad of surviving audio interviews and his long out-of-print autobiography I've come to know Vincent Price as a true renaissance man.  His love of art knew no bounds and he spent a lifetime collecting and making it possible, though his partnership with Sears back in the 50s and 60s, for everyone to be able to own affordable works by centuries of masters.  Take a second and listen to his records narrating a trip through the Louvre, and you'll be infected by his passion.

Strangely enough it was though his love of cooking and the culinary world that I connected with him the most deeply.  Vincent Price and his second wife Mary authored two cookbooks, A Treasury of Great Recipes and Come into the Kitchen, both featuring a wide variety of food spanning both the history of American as well as adapted recipes from restaurants all over the world.  Price also narrated a series of international culinary records that takes the listener all over the world as well as into his home with all sorts of tips, anecdotes and advice.  Though the style of cooking is firmly set in the 60s with absolutely no concern for "healthy" eating, there's no more visceral way to connect with someone like one can over the sharing of food.  I've taken a cue from a couple I know and reserved special occasions as an excuse to pull the Price Treasury down from the shelf to concoct some gut-busting gastronomical wonders.  His reworking of the classic Sardi's Meat Sauce recipe has completely changed the way I think about pasta with red sauce, and it's a dish that I've cooked numerous times for friends and family.

Through a vast body of work I've gotten to know Vincent Price over the last few years, and it's been a journey that's changed the way I look at life.  I know that may sound weird and cheesy, but it's not that often that a life examined yields so much insight into what it means to truly live.  He's also reminded me of one of the key things that helps to keep me pointed forward and exploring.  To paraphrase the great Price, one has to be interested in everything in order for oneself to be interesting...

Well, there are just two short days before the official beginning of the 2011 Countdown to Halloween and I couldn't be more excited.  Though I've run out of cool Real Ghostbusters monster animation cels to share (like I did in 2009 and 2010), I do have a bunch of fun stuff in store.  The main countdown theme at Branded this year is going to be Halloween Mask m-AD-ness, where I'm going to share a bunch of vintage monster mask ads throughout the month.  Now, I don't consider myself any sort of authority on the subject (for more in depth mask blogging see the Blood Curdling Blog of Monster Masks), quite the contrary in fact.  My interest in monster masks stems from the amazement I felt as a kid when walking into a Spencer's in our local mall during the Halloween season.  There'd be a wall of masks and props that would keep me enraptured for hours while my mom did her shopping.  We could never really afford any of those masks back then, but I could afford the odd copy of Fangoria or Starlog which tended to have mask advertisements in every issue (except 1985, but I'll get to that later) that I'd sit and study for what seemed like days at a time.  So I thought it would be fun to go through my collection of mask ads and share my thoughts.

Though this will be the main daily theme, I'm also going to try my best to cover another topic as well, but look for that sneak peek tomorrow.  Also, I'd like to mention that the great Plaid Stallions site was gracious enough to let me use some of the imagery from their Ben Cooper catalog scans in order to make the mask banner above.  You should check them out for all your fun 70s fashion faux pas and nostalgia memories, in particular this coming month when they'll take part in the 2011 Countdown to Halloween!  Alright, lets take a look at some really vintage mask ads to get the tone set for October!

I'm not sure when the first modern Halloween masks (rubber, latex, vinyl, or even pressed and molded plastic) crept into pop culture, but I'm pretty sure that the fad was going pretty strong during the initial publication of Famous Monsters of Filmland in the late 50s.  The first few ads I have here are from that wonder of a monster magazine, like this one from issue #4, first published in 1959…

I love these old ads because of the artwork used to illustrate the products.  These illustrations in particular strike a chord with me because my own artwork has naturally tended in this direction…

I also love these illustrations because I know that they were so much cooler than the actual masks were!  You can see the difference more clearly with this next ad that was also featured in issue #4 of FMoF…

My all time favorite mask rendering in an ad has to be the illustration for the Shock Monster.  That drawing took on a life of it's own and eventually became a mascot of sorts for Famous Monsters.  Mirek over at Shock! has a great write-up about that mask and the illustration (which was done by Keith Ward.)  Similarly striking is the androgynous visage of the Girl Vampire which also pervaded these magazines and the ad pages of comics for what seems like decades.

Rounding out the Famous Monsters mask ads is the one on the above, right from issue #41 originally published in 1964.  This one mixes the tried and true illustrations of the classic offerings with a selection of masks inspired by the Universal stable of monsters (as well as a side section with some Munsters masks, even though it's illustrated with production stills instead of actual masks.)  This one cracks me up because it touts that the UM masks are the same ones used by Universal Pictures.  I seriously doubt these masks, or anything like them were ever used in any film productions.  Maybe on the back-lot during tours, but the implication is otherwise.  This ad also featured the weirdo Mystery Man mask (top of the ad), which looks a whole heck of a lot like a cross between a gimp mask and the faceplate Hannibal Lector wore in Silence of the Lambs!

Last up today are a couple of ads from the Famous Monsters sister comic antholy published by Warren called Creepy.  These are from issue #18, originally published in 1968…

The ad on the left featured a bevy of Universal Monsters masks that much have been super expensive back in '68.  Heck, just 4 years prior you could order similar masks from FMoF for a fraction of the price.  Granted the level of detail on these is better, but I wonder of there was an extreme case of sticker shock when kids saw the $34 price tag.  Dang, it would have taken me months to save that much money even back in the 80s.  I'm guessing maybe these might have been aimed at a more adult crowd then?

The ad on the right is fun as it features the Warren comic anthology mascots Uncle Creepy and Cousin Eerie in 3-D mask form.  Now that's a level of branding and merchandise that really warms my heart.  This one also features some different pictures of the Mystery Man mask I mentioned earlier, complete with gimp-like removable mouth covering.  So freaking weird.

Well, hopefully that'll begin to give you an idea of what the next month will be like.  I hope you come back and take a gander at some of the awesome ads that I have in store.  Also, come back tomorrow to get a sneak peak at the other Halloween topic I'm hoping to cover throughout October.  You can also wander over to the Countdown to Halloween for a list of over 150 sites participating in Halloween-y blogging all month long!

Well folks, the month of October is almost upon us, and before I slip into a daze of daily ghoulish shenanigans, I thought I'd squeeze in one more PCP update.  I feel very lucky to have gotten a chance to meet a bunch of people because of this website and the projects it's led me to, but there are still a handful of folks I've yet to meet in person.  Of these people I'd really like to get a chance to say hello and give a hearty handshake to is the one and only Ted Seko!

Probably one of the most sincere and thoughtful people in comics, Ted is really one in a million.  I've been listening to his creative process podcast, the Idiot Engine, for almost three years now and I'm always taken by his perspective on creating comics and telling stories.  He's also one hell of a cartoonist, both in comics and animation.  His style is energy and excitement personified in a way that's so much more instinctual than a lot of his contemporaries.

I could literally gush about this man's work for hours, but I wanted to point to how much of a mensch Ted is when he pitched in to help out the Up! Fair last year.  We had put out a call to artists and friends about donating pieces of art for a gallery showing and an auction to benefit the show and Ted surprised us all by sending in a one of a kind comic book that was completely illustrated and bound by hand.  And it was awesome.  That was way above and beyond and it's just another example of how cool this guy is. 

If you get a chance, I highly suggest heading on over to download some episodes of his podcast, watch some of his cartoons, and take a look at his artwork.  This guy is the real deal!

Alright, it's about time for another Mail-Out session of the Branded in the 80s Post Card Project!  This time around I have a special treat just in time for the Halloween season as I've scored a copy of the 1985 Fangoria Magazine postcard issue!

It took me awhile to find an affordable copy of this beauty (when I was scoping it out copies were selling for upwards of $50 each, though now it seems they're popping up at more reasonable prices.)  Anyway, I was really excited to get my grubby little hands on these vintage postcards, though to be 100% honest, I was a little confused by what I found between the covers.  This issue boasts at offering "24 Incredibly Gross Full Color Postcards!"  I can vouch for their full color-ness, but the gross to not-so-much-so ratio is a bit off.  Anyway, that isn't to say that these aren't a batch of fun cards, because they are in fact really fun.

I have decided in the interest of those with weak constitutions and those with inflated expectations of gore, that I should temper this mail-out with some catagories to pick from.  Basically I've deemed that there are 13 fun horror themed cards, 7 truly gory cards, and 4 cards that are barely scraping by to be considered horror or Halloween-y related at all (these four were filed under the Scream Queen category in the magazine, but even so the picture choices were very weird.)  So, on a fist come, first serve basis I'll be sending these out, but it's important that when requesting a postcard you state whether you want a regular one, a gory one, or one of the not-so-horror scream queen cards.  I'll keep this post updated with what's available below...

So if you'd like to received a bona fide 26 year-old vintage horror postcard in the mail directly from Branded in the 80s, send me an email with "Fangoria Postcards" in the subject line.  Be sure to include your name and snail mail address, as well as which type of postcard you'd like to receive.  As with the first and second wave's participants, if you'd like to take some photos with the postcard, you can send 'em in and I'll post them here and on the Branded Facebook page with a shout out to your blog or website.

Normal Horror = 3

Really Gory = All Gone

Scream Queens = All Gone

Oh, and in case you were wondering why Fangoria decided to release a postcard issue, the explanation is below in the magazine introduction.  Apparently it had something to do with the convergence of 80s rock, the WWF, horror movies, and aliens?!?  At least they gave us a flow chart to try and understand the reasoning…

This week's PCP spotlight is on Carlin "CT" from Nerd Lunch!

I think I originally got to know CT through twitter a couple years ago, but I've been keeping up with the Nerd Lunch website ever since.  CT was a big supporter of the Up! Fair, the alternative/indie comics show that I helped put together back at the tail end of 2010.  He graciously donated a bunch of copies of his short film that we gave out in our swag bag at the show.  He's also one of the hosts of the newly launched Nerd Lunch podcast (along with another NL alum Jeeg and Paxton from the Cavalcade of Awesome.)  As I mentioned earlier, I was a guest on the second episode where we all got geeky about the Back to the Future flicks.

If you're into all things geeky and nerdy, whether it be comic books, films, or even lunch, you should check out Nerd Lunch.  Tell 'em I sent ya!

This past weekend I ended up hitting a few stores around town looking for some new toys that I'd hoped were out on the pegs.  Though I didn't find what I was looking for (the new wave of Real Ghostbusters Minimates and the new G.I. Joe's, in particular the Steel Brigade figure which is an updated version of the late 80s customizable mail-away figure), I did find some fun stuff and it was all season appropriate!  Though the new RG figures weren't out yet, there was a second wave of the Universal Monster minimates that included variations on Dracula, Frankenstein's Monster, and the Bride.  I settled on a two pack that featured black and white versions of the monster and Dracula…

Again, I'm not a huge fan of the Minimates design, but I'm always a sucker for any Frankenstein related toys…

I was also looking for the new wave of Lego blind pack minifigs even though this is the first series that doesn't feature a monster character.  While looking for them I stumbled upon another series of blind pack figures, this time from Playmobil, called Fi?ures.  Though I don't buy that many Playmobil sets, I do have to admit that their design aesthetic is very interesting.  While Lego is known for their great quality and general wholesome playset themes, Playmobil has always been a little more progressive in their tone and designs.  Where else can you find bearded Hell's Angel bikers, devils, and a whole series based on zombie pirates?  So I was excited when I saw that there were some crazy figures available in their first series of blind pack figures.  In particular I wanted to get my hands on their Grim Reaper and Executioner figures…

Luckily these figures are large enough, and their accessories specific enough, that you can feel them through the bags, so it shouldn't be too hard to find the ones you're looking for.  I did seem a little weird molesting all the bags while a bunch of parents strolled by wondering what I was doing.

These Playmobil Fi?ures are kind of strange in that they've separated the figures into girls and boys figures, but then again I guess if I were a girl and wanted a princess figure it would suck to continuously get the Grim Reaper instead.  Aside form these two guys above, there is also a Mummy figure and a Witch in the girl's series that're pretty cool.  At $3.50 a pop though, they're a little pricey, so make sure you feel for the figures before you buy (no matter what kinds of looks concerned parents give you…)

Here's my second and final Monkey Goggles article that was originally published a little over a year ago on the Archie McPhee literary webzine.  As I mentioned yesterday, I'm putting these articles up here as it seems that MG isn't going to be publishing any longer and in case that site fades away I'd like to have a record of the article.  This piece centers on the differences between the final cuts of films and the book adaptations of the screenplays those films were based upon. T he main example I use is the novelization of E.T. and how it could have been, and in the novel is, a much darker story.  You can also find my thoughts on the sequel story, E.T. The Book of the Green Planet, that was never made into a film, only published as a stand alone novel…

In the realm of film novelizations, there's rarely room for originality, but every once in a while these books can be a treasure trove of interesting material.

Novelizations were originally a brilliant marketing scheme to bring a sense of weight and establishment to otherwise light genre flicks, at least in the case of the print editions of stories like Star Wars.  It's rumored that Alan Dean Foster was hired to ghost-write the novel in George Lucas' name so that the film would have the "literary" background of at the time recent hits like Mario Puzo's The Godfather and Peter Benchley's Jaws.  Later, in a pre-home video world, these novelizations became a merchandising phenomenon, giving hungry audiences an outlet for reliving their favorite films and breathing new life into genre publishing.

The novelization of E.T. sold more than one million copies and gave a generation of fans a glimpse into an alternate view of the story that almost was.  The original idea behind the movie was not to make a tranquil boy-loves-alien adventure, but instead a darker, more sinister sequel to Close Encounters of the Third Kind.  Originally titled "Night Skies", the story centered around a malevolent race of aliens that land on earth and besiege a family living on a farm.  Though there was a script written by John Sayles, Spielberg eventually decided that he didn’t want to produce a violent extra-terrestrial sequel to Close Encounters, and instead broke up the script, reusing aspects that what would eventually become story points in later Spielberg productions — namely Poltergeist, Gremlins, and E.T.

Though the character of E.T. became much tamer in the eventual film, author William Kotzwinkle had a much deeper and slightly darker tone in mind when he was commissioned to pen the novelization.  First and foremost, the book contains a fascinating shift in the story's point-of-view.  Whereas Spielberg chose to ape Charles Schultz's child's height world-view perspective, rarely showing the faces or upper torsos of adult characters and basking in the wonderment of a kid’s point-of-view, the book instead takes on a more omniscient angle.  Instead of approaching the alien from Elliott's perspective, we are instead invited into the mind's eye of E.T. himself, seeing Earth as it appears to him.  He loses the infant-like quality that made him so loveable in the film, and is instead imbued with the sage wisdom of a ten million year-old wanderer.

One of my favorite moments in the novelization is when, E.T. plays the role of the audience for a second, and it gives the author an opportunity to provide some commentary on Spielberg's filmic charm.  Kotzwinkle has E.T. strolling out to the edge of the redwood forest where the aliens have landed at the beginning of the film.  After securing a sapling for examination and cataloging, E.T. is enraptured by the lights of the suburban neighborhood sitting at the foot of the valley.  Knowing that this is going to be their last visit to Earth for centuries, E.T. lingers, longing to peek into the windows of the homes, to get a glimpse of the human middle class life.  Again, it's just a bit of commentary on what makes Spielberg's early work so special.

It's also interesting that, with this shift in viewpoint, certain aspects of the story take on a much darker tone.  At the beginning when the humans come to the landing site and start searching the woods, we're introduced to "Keys", Peter Coyote's nameless scientist character who is known in the story by the jangling key-ring on his belt.  When E.T. sees him for the first time, the keys are described thus: "…the old botanist saw the man's belt, with something hanging from it like an assemblage of teeth, jagged-edged, trophies possibly, wrenched from the mouth of some other unfortunate space creature, and placed on a ring…"  A bit later, the author has E.T. describing the circular key ring as a sort of open-mouthed grin with jangling teeth.

There's also an isolationist's tone to the opening of the novel. E.T.'s species survive for millennia and have cultivated a vast knowledge as well as a Zen-like understanding of peace and harmony, yet they refuse to attempt to communicate with the humans, instead centering all their attention on Earth's flora because they are afraid of being ridiculed and mocked.  It's a very odd and dark way to approach the material, for sure.  E.T. was Wall-E before there was a "Wall-E".

Another interesting aspect that Kotzwinkle either added to the “E.T.” universe or amped up from the script was the idea of the alien race being so closely connected to plant-life that they not only communicate with it, but also have the ability to physically manipulate it. It’s either that, or that plants defy their normal physics in their presence. In the opening scene when the humans have descended upon the landing site and E.T. is trying to get back to the ship, there are trees that lift their roots to trip the pursuing earthlings, while a patch of emotionally-clingy weeds hold the alien back, wanting him to stay with them. It exudes a passion for the story that goes beyond simple script adaptation, which I think is rare in these 1980s era movie novelizations.

I could go on and on with how much deeper the original novelization probes into the characters - how Elliot, Steve and Gertie's mother Mary (played by an exasperated Dee Wallace in the film) is so lonely and lost in her own mind that she fantasizes about disappearing from life and, believe it or not, masturbation.  (See page 17; the innuendo is there.)  She's also simultaneously dreading the world her children have to face, wondering if they'll succumb to overdosing on drugs, all while listening in on them playing a campaign of Dungeons and Dragons in the kitchen.

Who would have thought that there'd be room for this sort of storytelling in what amounts to simple movie merchandising in a decade known for its hollow commercialism?  I honestly didn't think there was anything left for me to learn from a story I grew up with and thought I knew so well. Never in a million years did I think I'd get so sucked into reading the E.T. novelization that I'd be skipping lunch breaks and desperately wondering what happens next.

It just dawned on me that Monkey Goggles seems to have shuttered (there's been no new content since last year when editor Geoff Carter and Archie McPhee amicably ended their partnership.)  So just in case the site ends up folding completely I've decided to repost the two articles I wrote for them here at Branded.  This first one concerns my unhealthy high school obsession with Spam.  Mr. Carter aptly titled it, Leaving Spamalot: Taking a Joke Too Far…

I've never eaten a single bite of Spam in my life, yet I probably have more goofy stories surrounding the iconic slab of preserved, pork product than most people living outside of Hawaii or Guam.  I'm hardly what you'd call a super-fan of the wartime staple.  I don't go to canned ham or potted meat conventions, and I don't dress up in a specially-constructed costume of my own design trying to meet up with other enthusiasts obsessed with chopped-and-formed foodstuffs.  I don't write Spam slash fiction.  I was just a weird kid who, back in the early 1990s, took a joke just a little too far.  Five years too far.

I'm sure most people hate high school, and I'm no different.  I've got a few scars, but I was lucky enough to find an anti-clique that got me through mostly unnoticed.  I was part of a group of four kids who loved comic books and role playing, who were smart enough to avoid getting into fights and just dumb enough to not care all that much about what anyone else thought.  We were those kids who took any available art class and managed to avoid every single pep rally.  We were basically invisible.

This can have a strangely unexpected effect on a kid.  It made me yearn to be noticed, even as I did my best to hide.  I was that guy who sweated bullets while trying to talk in speech class, the one who lived in fear of getting called on by a teacher, the one who walked the long way around the gym to avoid getting catcalls from the cool crowd at the smoking area.

My outlet came after a late-bloomer's introduction to Monty Python in the 10th grade.  There was something completely enchanting about the absurd use of the iconic meat treat in the Spam sketch, as well as the throw-away line during the approach-to-Camelot song in Monty Python and the Holy Grail.  My tiny cadre of friends and I made Spam jokes for weeks.  It got to the point where the word lost all meaning for a while and eventually it became a generic stand-in, a variable for in-joke comedy.  After that first month my friends got sick of it and moved on.

I took it further.  I bought my first seven-ounce can of Spam with the leftovers from my weekly comic book allowance.  The plan was to wear it around my neck to school the next day.  I carefully wove together a handful of homemade friendship bracelets, fashioned them into a sturdy necklace, and strung them through the pull tab on the top of the can.  I made sure to put a few dollops of superglue onto the tab to keep it from lifting open.  The last thing I wanted was gelatinous ham all over my carefully ripped and worn flannel shirt.

I unveiled my masterpiece on the bus ride that next morning.  It got some chuckles out of my friends and a lot of weird stares from the rest of the crowd, so I was feeling pretty proud of myself.  I decided the event called for a super-jump from the top of the bus steps, and I was in mid-freefall when it occurred to me that this was a stupid idea.  As my feet hit the concrete, there was an audible click as the necklace pulled taut and the pop top ripped open.  It was almost as if I'd pulled the pin on a hand grenade; everyone standing around took three big steps away from me.  As luck and science would have it, gravity and inertia pulled the can outward, and its contents just splattered with a juicy thump on the pavement.

The next can I bought weighed in at a more respectable 12 ounces, and I carried it around like a pet rock.  I even made a leash for it.  This can lasted for three weeks.  Sometimes I'd sit it on the corner of my desk during class, and other times I rested it on my shoulder like a parrot.  I was beginning to get a reputation for being "that Spam guy."  In the middle of that pet can's third week, a cute skater girl sauntered up to me during advanced pottery class and started asking flirty questions.  I was dying for the attention and summoned up as much wit and courage as possible.  In the middle of explaining why I couldn't decide on a name for the can, she pulled a potter's knife out of her pocket and stabbed the living hell out of the Spam.  I sat in disbelief, staring at the wet blade of the knife and her twisted, satisfied sneer.  Into the trash it went, right alongside my ego.

Undeterred, I soon moved on to Deviled Spam.  I took cans of it everywhere I went because they were smaller and less prone to knife attacks.  After graduating high school and getting a summer job at a grocery store, I used my first paycheck to buy a case of these tiny cans of Spam.  I thought it would be hilarious to collect one for every day that I worked, thinking this was just a short-lived summer job.  Ninety-odd cans and four months later, I stopped buying them.

In 1996, during the sci-fi fantasy convention Dragon Con, I had one last run at the Spam joke that would never end.  The gag had lasted for four-and-a-half years at this point and my friends were tired of it, but I'd kept pushing.  I was running on two days with no food, stuck in the Atlanta Hilton with three of my closest friends and no money for meals.  We were subsisting on complimentary corn chips and Kool-Aid from the Con suite, when I noticed a shiny new can of Spam on the table.  I asked the volunteer manning the room who owned that can, and he just shrugged and said it was purchased as a joke and that no one was going to eat it.  He said I could have it, and I immediately darted over to scoop it up.

Famished, halfway delirious from a lack of protein and hopped up on way too much sugar water, I marched down to the dealers' room/exhibitors’ hall - and over the course of the next five hours, I made it my mission to cover the can in pseudo-celebrity autographs.  I got a bevy of comic book and fantasy artists to sign the can (Mark Bagley, John Bryne, Ken Meyer Jr., Bernie Wrightson, and Bo Hampton to name a few), as well as Darth Vader himself, convention legend David Prowse.  In my mind, it was the coup de grace of my very long experiment in absurdist comedy.  I was only made fun of twice and verbally abused once (by Jim Steranko, who let out a Christmas Story-like stream of profanities).

The last guy to sign the can, Glen Danzig, was even a personal hero of mine, though the whole experience failed to even faze him (makes you wonder what he's been asked to sign over the years.)  I'm pretty sure it was at that point where I finally got tired of the whole thing.  I guess you can take a joke too far … but I still have that last can.

I mentioned recently that I tend not to review much modern stuff that influenced by the 80s era stuff that I loved growing up.  Part of this is because of how I feel about the current 80s regurgitation, but another part is more about spending.  I just don't buy all that many toys or doodads because the wife and I have no idea where to put this stuff.  We have a bunch of stuff as it is and we hesitate to keep adding to the pile for fear that we'll become buried in some sort of cool-stuff avalanche.  So when we do pick something up we try to be pretty judicious about what we buy.  Following this train of thought I've been limiting a lot of my toy purchases to stuff that is small, literally.  Blind pack Lego minifigs, minimates, the various tiny "Heroes" figures from Hasbro, Hotwheels, etc.  It's more about display than playability at my age anyway, so why not try to condense the size of a collection with 1.5" figures instead of the more normal 3.75"-8" lines.

Then there is the world of independent and small run toys, stuff like vinyl figures from outlets like Kid Robot and a million other indie molders, casters, and painters that work with everything from resin and vinyl to word and PVC.  There's all sorts of awesome stuff out there, but I've kept myself pretty sheltered from it because they're typically some pretty darn expensive art toys.  I mean if I'm grumbling in the toy aisles of my local Target because G.I. Joe figures are at the crazy inflated price of almost $10 a figure, then you know I won't be jumping at the chance to pick up independent toys at $40-$100 apiece (not that I don't want to.)  I'm not saying that there aren't any cheaper options for these sorts of art toys, I've just been hit with sticker-shock so often that I tend to filter them out.

Well, that changed recently after Phillip Reed over at Battlegrip.com spent an entire week looking at a particular independent toy-line.  It's called the Glyos System and is produced by a group called Onell Design.  I'm not 100% versed in the fiction, but the general idea is that these are a set of futuristic humanoids and robots in space.  The figures range in size from 1.5" to around 3" tall and are all comprised of modular pieces of hand painted PVC.  So this system is combining the concept of the action figure with that of a building block set like Lego bricks, that encourages customization…

What really grabbed me at first was the overall design aesthetic of the toys, in particular the color schemes and the odd juxtaposition of simplicity and complex design.  I also loved the design of the various character head sculpts, especially on this little orange guy they call Pheyden (specifically this one is known as the Gears Edge Pheyden.)  The dome shape to the helmet with the skull accents is really cool…

I think this design aesthetic is so powerful because it has been expertly culled from all sorts of existing pop culture while retaining a simplicity that completely separates itself from its many influences.  When I look at these figures I can see aspects of films, videogames and cartoons like Robocop, Tron, Alien & Aliens, Metroid, Megaman, Section Z, Robotech (in particular the series three Invid Invasion episodes), Inhumanoids, and the Centurians just to name a few.  At the same time, there isn't enough of any one of these homages that the Glyos System still feels completely like its own unique design.  That's a really tough thing to accomplish.

There's also a lot of aspects to these figures that I really dig that are playing off of some of the more modern toy designs like the chibi, or super deformed body design; large hands and feet with slightly disproportionate leg and arm lengths.  Also, I find it very interesting to see this sort of modularity in an action figure line.  Sure, there were a bunch of original Star Wars and He-Man figures that you could pop the heads and arms off of and switch around, but not really since the Micronauts have we seen this sort of concept.  For awhile in the early to mid 2000s there were those Stikfa figures, but their modularity was more about articulation than customization.  I'm sure there are some action figure lines I'm forgetting, but I still think this is a rare concept for the genre.

Though this might be a little greedy and crass, I have to say that what ultimately won me over to buying a bunch of these figures is the really low price point.  There are a handful of older legacy figures in the Onell Design shop that are as low as $4 a piece.  Considering that these are hand cast, assembled and painted, that's a steal.  Even the newer figures range from $6-$10, which is still more than reasonable when compared to other independent toys.

What's also really cool is that this system has infected the indie toy market to such an extent that there are a lot of other people making attachments and figures that are completely interchangeable with the originals.  Onell Design has a sister site called Callgrim that has their own variations on the system that add a whole new level to the collection.  I also love that there are some standard "characters" too; Onell has a couple of main characters, Pheyden and Exellis, Callgrim has their own, The Order (seen below as a standard figure with the robotic blank faceplate) and Callgrim (which has the more hockey mask/skull influenced faceplate.)

Callgrim has also taken the modularity to a whole new level by sculpting some of the pieces to be really multi-purpose.  he set I picked up is based around the character called the Warp Dome Terra Mite…

…that figure's head can be positioned in two ways, one like above that makes it come off as an android sort of robot, or if you twist it around it becomes a variation on the Callgrim faceplate, only a bit more alien.  These head pieces also double for a very cool-looking base piece for a backpack or jet pack…

All in all, though I'm still really new to these toys, I'm becoming addicted to them.  I missed out on the last rollout of figures, but I'm keeping my eyes peeled on the Onell Design and Callgrim blogs for any information on new stuff.  I feel like I'm 8 years-old again!

In the immortal words of Ferris Buller, "Life moves pretty fast.  If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it."  Generally an apt comment on the day to day, it's really been the tone regarding my time/website ratio lately.  More specifically, I've been neglecting it in lieu of crazy life junk.  That being said, October is looming and I plan on jumping back into Branded with another Countdown to Halloween Branded blog-a-thon.  I also wanted to get back in the groove of posting PostCard Project updates as I think it's time for another round of vintage postcard goodness to coincide with the Halloween season.

Today I'd like to highlight the ever amazing talents of one Paxton from the Cavalcade of Awesome!

Longtime readers have no doubt heard me mention his site before, in particular during a cross-over event we did last summer where we investigated the concept of unofficial movie trilogies (with Pax linking up some party animal, ninja, and break dancing flicks while I connected the dots between the furious fists of Ralph Macchio, some extreme sports movies, and the musical violence of Walter Hill.)  Pax's Cavalcade of Awesome, in particular his keen comic writing voice, is always inspiring me to up my game and I've always enjoyed discussing geeky stuff in the comments sections of our sites.

Paxton also recently joined up with CT and Jeeg over at Nerd Lunch to start recording the official Nerd Lunch podcast.  I was graciously invited to sit in on their revolving 4th chair for their second episode where we discussed the in's and out's of the Back to the Future flicks.

So if you get a second and want to have your mind blown with awesome, stop by Pax's site.  You'll be glad you did!

I listen to a lot of podcasts, but lately it seems like a bunch of shows that I love have been ending.  So I was pretty excited when I discovered a new show that featured some of my favorite bloggers coming together to geek out over the airwaves.  The Nerd Lunch podcast debuted this past week, and it features NL alums CT and Jeeg, as well as Paxton from Cavalcade of Awesome!

These guys were gracious enough to invite me in as a guest on their second episode as the 1st in a series of revolving 4th chair hosts.  We spend the episode discussing the Back to the Future flicks, which just happens to be one of my favorite franchises from the 80s.  So if you want to hear us talk about Marty, Doc, Biff, time travel continuity, the animated series, as well as where we think the future of this film franchise could go them head on over to Nerd Lunch and give the episode a listen.  You can also find their show on iTunes.

Well, now that we're in September most of the stores have started rolling out their seasonal swag.  I haven't fully dived into the merchandise yet, but I have been picking up a lot of sugary items.  I thought I'd share some of the stuff that's stuck out so far, in particular some of the gummy candies that I thought were interesting.

First up we have a package of Target branded Berry Oozing Gummy Candy Skulls…

Every year there are a lot of "generic" Halloween gummy candies that are packaged and re-packaged under different brands.  So no matter where you go, you tend to find the same little red, white, and blue gummy brains and multi-colored gummy candy corn under a multitude of different store packaging.  The same is true this year, though amidst the pile at Target were these seriously creepy gummy skulls that were sort of a breath of fresh air since the mold is completely unfamiliar to me.  I was really impressed with the eerie vein-y-ness and clenched teeth on these skulls, and was intrigued by their berry-flavored ozzing blood…

Flavor-wise, these guys aren't bad, though I'm not usually a fan of the opaque, marshmallow gummy candies.  The oozing factor was cool and was surprisingly abundant in most of the heads (which is rare with this sort of gimmick.)  As far as the packaging goes, it's pretty sparse as most of the Target branded candy packaging is and features only one of their 2011 kid-centric Halloween characters.  It's looking pretty clear that the characters they've designed are going in the Foster's Home For Imaginary Friends direction, which seems to be the theme in a lot of the stores this year.

The next gummy selection is the one big name brand entry today, a box of Lifesavers Spooky Shapes Gummies.  I remember these from last year with these same "Universal" monster mascots (which also appear on packages of Bubble Tape), though they were only available in a big bag of individual packets.  I like that they offered a small box so that I could more affordably try them…

I'm also glad because these were the only gummy candies that I absolutely couldn't stand the flavor of, so I won't have any extra packets that I'll have to pawn off on unsuspecting Trick-or-Treaters later.  There are a lot of gummy products on on the market that get Halloween-y branded packaging this time of year, but not all that many that actually use seasonal molds, so I do have to give these credit for at least having spooky shapes.  I was surprised that there were so few though, as the larger bag has a whole bunch more…

Finally we have a couple different offerings from the Black Forest brand under the Ferrara Pan Candy Company…

There was a pretty neat display of these at my local Kroger which featured individual bags of both Gummy Vampires and Werewolves.  As an added attraction, the Vampire gummys were also "Juicy Oozers". Both sets had fun themed shapes (the werewolf pack featured wolf paw prints as well werewolf bodies and heads, while the vampire pack had bats, coffins, vampire mouths and heads.)  Though the oozing wasn't as prevalent in these gummys as the Target skulls, these both featured some of the best tasting gummies so far.  I also really love the packaging design.  You don't see very many werewolf themed food products, at least not nearly as many as I'd like.

There are some more Halloween gummy products that I want to talk about, but they're a little different than these, so I think I'll save those for later in the month…

Though I tend not to cover much of the modern merchandising that plays off of 80s nostalgia, from time to time I do see some stuff that I just have to share.  While walking around Toys R Us the other day looking at their new Halloween displays I stumbled upon some little toys that really caught my eye.  They're called the Trash Pack…

In a nutshell, these little guys are the equivalent of the cheap-o vending toys you tend to find at the entrances to grocery stores and as prizes in arcades.  They're a collection of 1" monsters, critters, spoiled food items and bugs (both micro-biotic and insectile in nature) that are a cross between a pencil topper and a charm toy.  Normally I probably would have passed these up as the available packages (containing either 5 or 12 figures) were pretty pricey ($6 for 5 and $10 for 12), but the sheer amount of 80s era influeces packed into these little guys was just too attractive…

First off, the figures are packaged in little plastic garbage cans that immediately evoke the M.U.S.C.L.E. men phenomenon, but there's also an obvious Garbage Pail Kids vibe with the all the gross gags and collectability.  On top of that these are also riffing off of the current resurgence of figural eraser collecting that's really gripped kids for the first time in 25 years.  If these had also come with stickers I think my mind would have melted…

All in all I have to say that even though the thought that went into the merchandising was pretty cool, the price-point is just way too out of whack.  All told there are almost 200 different figures (including color variations on around 55 different molds) and the chances of scoring a complete set for under $100 seems pretty slim.  When you consider that these are just glorified vending toys, that makes these guys pretty darn expensive.  Also, though some of the molds are pretty cool (I highlighted my favorites in the photos), there are a lot that just don't read well (in terms of coming across as what they are.)  These are available in 2, 5, and 12 packs, and I think that if the price was reduced by half they might catch on, but I have a hard time seeing parents plunking down the kind of cash it would take to get there kids started out on a decent collection.