Tuesday, March 31, 2009

SUPANOVA 2009 and the age of innocence lost...

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So, on Saturday I embarked on an insightful journey into the world of GEEK. That's right, ladies and gentlemen, I attended what is commonly referred to as a mass congregation of nerdiness, otherwise known as an ANIME AND POP CULTURE EXPO.
Oh, and what an eye-opening experience it was.

Firstly, before I launch into my diatribe, let me just be clear on a few things. I myself am a Geek, albeit a self loathing one. I'm painfully aware of the inherent flaws in our subculture, and try as I might, I can't manage to supress them in even myself. But that doesn't mean I have to like it. I can hide behind a facade of apathetic nonchalance, but the sad fact of the matter is that these people whom I look upon with disdain are nothing more than walking mirrors bouncing my own reflection back at me.
Maybe that's the reason why I loathe them so much... They're me.

Of course, I'm generalising with this allusion to pervasive geekiness, not everyone there was a mouth breather with chronic halitosis and an ill fitting stargate SG-1 t-shirt, BUT, and this is a big but, a majority of the people I had to line up with and next to... Well, it takes all sorts to make the world.

My main motivation for attending was the chance to meet the talent behind one of my favourite shows, Aqua Teen Hunger Force. It was under the pretense of solely meeting these guys (Dana Snyder and Dave Willis) that I roped my good buddy Beau into coming with me.
Beau, who's a nerd in constant denial of his station in life, was under the impression that we would meet the creators and then split. I, on the other hand, was nefariously planning my entire day to be spent amongst those timeless symbols of geekiness" Comic Books, Action Figures and Video Games.

So, we entered the thunderdome known as SUPANOVA 2009 like a disproportionately sized pasty white Masta and Blasta from Mad Max 3... Two geeks enter, one MAN leaves.

Armed with our trusty signable goods, Beau and I joined the massive line that was snaking out of the pavillion, briefly musing on the fact that we didn't have to present our tickets at the entry gate. After about twenty minutes or so, the line had progressed to the point where we were at the actual entrance to the pavillion. It was then that I noticed that to gain entry, people had to present a stamp on their wrists to security... A stamp that was noticeably absent from both mine and beau's wrists.
Brandishing our tickets, we attempted to enter but were curtly turned away. Full of righteous indignation, we explained that we'd just spent a half hour in the line and to refuse us entry was to consign us to having to go to the rear of the line, which had swelled considerably. Security, as anyone with the illusion that they possess power is apt to do, decided to go for the title of "worlds biggest asshats" and refused us entry, directing us to some tiny building tucked away from anything of worth.
They stole the title out from under the nose of Microsoft, but only barely.




So, after a brief but extremely awkward experience with a constantly sneezing, effeminate ticket collector, Beau and I venture back to the pavillion, freshly stamped wrists at the ready.
We flashed them to security like a black panther salute (SOLIDARITY!) and marched inside, noticing that the line we had wasted 30 minutes in earlier seemed to be chock a block full of people in anime get-up (The Cosplay world record was being held there) which, while amusing to look at, seemed to indicate that we may have been in the wrong line. You would've thought half an hour wedged between Naruto, Dante from 'Devil May Cry' and Jigglypuff would've tipped us off, but hey, what can I say? We're Aqua Teen fans, slightly slow on the uptake due to the ingestion of copious amounts of weed.

Evidently, there was some mixup with the lines anyway, so it wasn't completely our fault. So after an awkward switching of positions with people in the anime line (They were lining up to see Vic Mignogna, an anime voice artist. I Have no idea what he voices, but he seemed pretty gregarious), we were finally in the Aqua Teen line, a fact that was clearly announced by the cloud of body odour that hovered over the line.


"Yes, these people HAVE actually had sex... Child rape is a key contributor to Cosplay participation...Preferably tentacled child rape."

Seriously, the entire line was made up of love handles, pubey beards and greasy hair... The archetypical "Stoner" look. The guy in front of us looked like Neil Patrick Harris with hives, constantly scratching nervously at the red blotches up his neck and muttering to himself. He also seemed to be the epicentre of operation Clown. (Operation Clown - BOBO THE CLOWN - B.O.B.O... You work it out)
A guy three people in front of us was damning Family guy and praising Flight of the Conchords and Arrested Development, a sentiment I agreed wholeheartedly with.
He was also in posession of a LITERAL GARBAGE BAG of dvds, predominately every variation of ATHF ever, plus a smattering of Heroes dvds, as that annoying little cheerleading chode-load Hayden Panettiere was also there, outrageously charging $40 for a signed pic. Forty fucking dollars? Seriously? What a muffinload of wank.

After realising that the ATHF guys were actually taking the time to chat to their fans, I decided to use the time afforded to me by Conchords guy having each and every one of his fifty million dvds signed and personalised to try and think of some decent conversational topics.
I tend to get starstruck pretty easily, and generally just make a few inane comments about the weather and inquiring about whether they're experiencing culture shock, etc. and this time, even with prepreparation, was no different.

I stammered out a greeting to Dave Willis and gracelessly pushed some dvds over to him to sign, making inane banter about rabid fans and the like. I then went over to Dana Snyder and proceeded to do the exact same thing. Mr. Smooth, that's me.
I watched, amused, as Dave and Dana proceeded to deface some kids anime magazine, scrawling on it so much that they had to embarrasingly offer the kid a free dvd of season 1, solely because they'd doodled all over his event program, or whatever it was. Kid was stoked, I think he was in the wrong line, he'd apparently never even heard of the show. Dana apologised that they couldn't give us any dvds, chucked a few stickers our way and thus ended our brief dalliance with the creative minds behind one of our favourite shows.

It was, typically, later on in the day that my mind opened up the floodgates and a billion topics of conversation poured into my head. I could've asked them about the rumoured second feature film. I could have asked about the inception of the show and how they'd manage to get their pitch greenlit. We could have discussed the sociopolitical ramifications of George Orwells '1984'. Instead, I offered a lame comment about the humidity of the pavillion and Dana retorted with a comment about his balls dripping into his socks.
Oh well. Now I have Dana Snyder to thank for the mental image of yellowed, crusty old socks filled with liquidised ball chunks. Thanks, Dana.

"Dana Snyder puffing the magic dragon."


"Dave Willis...See, redheaded children CAN achieve something with their ginger lives."


Now that that was the main mission completed and we were free to set foot into the daunting layout of the convention. I'd spotted a ghostbusters stand from the ATHF line, so we checked out that first. It ended up only being a playable demo, but I love Ghostbusters like Whitney loves crack cocaine, so I was pretty chuffed.
I could see the realisation slowly dawning on Beau's face. He'd been duped into attending a geek convention... With a geek, no less!

He could tell by the frantic swinging of my head that I was in maladjustive adolescent mecca. Action figures adorned the walls as far as the eye could see, boxes upon boxes of comics were on display, the rarest treasures reserved for special displays at the back.
I saw Action Comics #1 with my own eyes, which, as anyone in the know can tell you, is one of the most sought after comic books in the world. Waaaaaay out of my price range, but I like to look.
It was then that I became aware of something... A pervasive emptiness inside me. I stared out at the rows of comics, a sight that would have caused my younger self to ejaculate uncontrollably into his pants, turning the fabric into a stiff material similar to cardboard.
I felt only apathy, boredom... I had no desire to flick through back issues chasing that elusive chromatic cover or ashcan edition. The action figures, while cool as all hell, never really posed a serious threat to my wallet. I couldn't justify spending fifty dollars on a Stay Puft Marshmallow man. Artists were signing their wares around me, Whilce Portacio, a man who was my comic artist idol back in the day, was barely ten feet away from me and I made no effort to have a chat or get an old copy of X-Factor signed. The creator of Invader Zim, easily one of the best things to come out of Nickelodeon, was practically right next to Whilce, yet... Only complete nonchalance.

I wandered past the requisite Star tables: Star Wars, Star Trek and Stargate, respectively. Nothing, not even a twinge of interest, and this coming from someone who once took the time to decipher just what exactly my Jedi name would be. The other two franchises I had no interest in, but Star Wars - Wait, I'll just clarify that I'm referring, of course, to the original trilogy here, the abominable sequels were what pretty much quelled my Star Wars fanboyism - surely that should pique my interest.
But no.


"Not even this guy could undo the damage George Lucas has bestowed upon his franchise."

I'm not a big fan of anime, I enjoy a few films here and there but mainly I just have no interest in it. Each to their own, and all that, but I found that lack of cohesion may have been a factor in my detachment from my geek mindset. The organisers didn't know whether to focus on the Anime or sci-fi/ Pop culture aspects, and this resulted in a mishmash of stalls, jostling for display room. A clear divide between the two would've helped navigation, as it was, it seemed the anime orieneted stalls outnumbered the pop culture stall 3 to 1, which really narrowed down my points of interest.
I had no inclination to go and see the so called "Celebrities" such as Hayden Panettire ($40!) or some dude from Twilight, and the central area of the pavillion was occupied by a wrestling ring in which groups of men clad in ball hugging spandex pranced about in a homoerotic display of machismo (Not a fan, obviously), so after wandering around for a bit longer, checking out EB games and picking up an ARMY OF DARKNESS T-shirt (Groovy!), I decided to make a move. Beau sighed in relief.

We pushed our way through chubby chicks clad in grotesquely bulging lolitaesque anime costume, past some chick dressed as Miss Marvel who was pratically butt naked, past the gestapoesque security detail and the group of Dragonball Z characters they were currently embroiled in harassing, and stepped out into the blinding sun, laughing hysterically at all the Twilight posers walking around in their corpse paint with umbrellas hoisted above their head so as not to let a ray of sunlight tough their skin.
I looked at these textbook examples of nerdy fanboys (and Girls) and wondered... Is that what I used to look like to others?

As you probably picked up by the sense of melancholy winding its way through this lengthy account, I entered Supernova as a nerd and left as something else. Some part of me had died. I think it may have died awhile ago and I was just too blazed to noticed. I dunno.
What I do know is that I just cannot muster the same enthusiasm for comics, etc. as I did when I was younger. Gaming ocaasionally still takes over my life, but in sporadic bursts. I have a kick ass collection of action figures that I have no intention of ever giving away - But I have no inclination to add to the collection anymore either.
I'll still pick up a graphic novel or an issue of Generation X or something for a quick read, but I make no effort to retain the original condition of said comics, nor do I even know where most of my extensive comic collection has disappeared to... And I find myself not caring.

Who knows, it could be a phase I'm going through, but the trappings of my youth seem to hold very little sway over me nowadays... Although playing music, watching films, reading, comedy etc. still command my unwavering attention.
We'll see. Maybe I should splurge and catch up on some of my favourite titles of old.

So, anyway, that was my experience at SUPANOVA 2009, a lengthy dissertation on the fall of my innocence in one the most childlike places on earth.

Oh well, hey, at least I scored some signed Aqua Teen dvds and some free swag!
(Although my season 3 dvd cover is coated with something that seems to scuff the marker off, so I'm taking extra special care.)





-Kumquat Turtleloaf is currently trying to recall where most of his near complete set of near mint x-men comics have disappeared to... His mutant superpower is incessant whining.

Sunday, March 22, 2009

NINJA - FREE NEW NIN EP (Plus Street Sweeper and Jane's Addiction)





As some of you may or may not know, I'm a MASSIVE fan of Nine Inch Nails... Have been since I was about twelve, and have become even bigger a fan ever since Trent ditched his record label (Interscope) and started periodically giving away free music and creating a true rapport with his fans... Simply put, there's nobody at all in the music business at the moment who is more relevant nowadays than old Trent Reznor, He hears his fans and he gives us exactly what we asked for, often at his own expense.
My admiration for the man extends far beyond his music, his outrageous business models, his brilliant stage shows, His absolutely engrossing ARG (Alternate Reality Game) that was the advertising basis for YEAR ZERO, etc. He's a pioneer in every sense of the word.

Anyway, enough gushing, I just wanted to post a quick note to let all of you know that he's just released another free EP of music, this one containing Two Nine Inch Nails tracks (Not so pretty now, Non-Entity), two from Jane's Addiction (Chip away, Whores) and two tracks from Tom Morello and Billy Bragg's new side project, Street Sweeper (Clap for the Killers, Oath). The best part is that they're all previously unreleased, and FREE, so they're a nice additiion to any collection. After all, Free's my favourite recommended purchase price.
My personal first impressions only extend to the NIN tracks thus far, which I can state are unequivocally brilliant, as per usual, but I'm about to dive into a session of Resident evil 5 with the EP as my custom soundtrack, So I'll post my thoughts later on.

Heres the link, etc.

Http://dl.ninja2009.com

Or you can get it via www.NIN.com




Whilst you're at it, if you're in the mood for some more quality free music, you should check out: THE SLIP, GHOSTS 1, LIGHTS IN THE SKY tour sampler, all available from NIN.com for FREE... And then you should go and splurge on a couple of earlier NIN albums, you won't be dissapointed... I promise.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

SODOMIA - THE LAND OF DREAMS

After much interior debate, I've decided to upload an extremely amateurish short film thingy I whacked together one rainy day about 2 or so years ago.

The basic premise is that it's a parody on all those tourism incentive films and advertisements, much like the much maligned "Where the bloody hell are ya?" Campaign utilised by Australia, only not as well made or performed, and with scratchy audio to boot.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Adrift in a sea of douchejuice

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It's funny... I've literally just finished having an altercation with my neighbour, a rather torrid exchange of words climaxing in a brief scuffle, and now, revelling in the quick flurry of anectdotes that inevitably get babbled excitedly by people who were present, I'm noticing major discrepancies in each person's account.
It's not the first time either, pretty much every fistfight I've ever been involved in, once the time for regaling others with tales of the battle comes around, everyone seems to have experienced a completely different fight.
Bystanders have misconceptions over who threw first, etc. Whilst the people in the thick of it seem to have the best recollection. Case in point: Midway through the angry trading of words, the words "Your mother is a whore" came up, as it inevitably does when arguing against those of lesser intelligence. This was uttered in the presence of not only my mother, but also her husband and my rather superhumanly strong younger sister.
The whore card was not exactly the smartest card to play...

So, my stepfather and sister took off after him, filled with righteous indignation and rage, whilst I scurried along behind them, intending to intercept this freight train hurtling towards assault charge city.
My stepfather reached him, both of their arms cocked back, fists trembling, and I smoothly inserted myself between them like a suave douchebag cutting in on your date at the prom. I pushed my stepfather back, to prevent anything physical from occurring, then figured "Fuck it", Grabbed my neighbour in a headlock and delivered a mortal Kombat 3 uppercut directly to his pug face. He, and this is in all seriousness, flew back, knocked off of his feet, landed on the ground and started scurrying away on his ass like a cockroach. See, I'm not exactly the pinnacle of strength, and this guy outweighs me by about 20 or so kilos, yet I knocked the dust out of him as easy as can be. It's even more amusing considering that he was goading me earlier on, telling me that any time I wanted to bring it, to bring it. So after flooring him like a red headed stepchild, I felt a massive wave of remorse, even more so ten seconds later when his child wandered outside to play and saw her daddy knocked on his ass.

But, blow by blow account aside, I'll return to the point. Since this moment of anger, many tales have circulated through the household about what occurred, yet each seems to be padded with embellishments and misconceptions. I've heard everything from: My stepfather was the one who knocked him down, via a hurricane kick followed by him bellowing "Hadouken!", That my neighbougbour struck first and made suggestive comments to my dog, that my crippling attack looked like the last drunken lurch of Oliver Reed, etc.
Rumours and conjecture abounds after anything of great interest... It's even got me questioning my own recollections.

Anyway, I just thought I'd ruminate on the differing accounts of the situation, and express my great respect for anyone who has to take down firsthand accounts of any catastrophe, they clearly have their work cut out, especially if the main participants cannot agree on what exactly occurred, as is the case here.
I thought we all saw the world through the same eyes, more or less, but everyone seems to interpret each situation differently.
Hmmm... Deep.

Monday, March 2, 2009

Bored...



CELEBMONSTROSITY - What we all aspire to be.




Quick doodle I did whilst waiting for Macguyver to come on.

There were more, but goshdarnit, If my scanner aint possessed then I dunno what's wrong with it. Shucks!

Sunday, March 1, 2009

Things we've learnt from Grim Reaper...



So anyway, I came across this kick ass metal video a few years ago, it's by a pretty obscure British band by the name of Grim Reaper, obscure for a reason, that reason being mediocrity.
However, as terrible as their music may be (To me, at least) the film clip that they churned out for a track called "Fear no evil" is an eighties metal masterpiece.

The basic premise, as far as I can tell, involves a group of "True" metal warriors staging a siege on a medieval sweatshop, which is ran by a giant Man-Wolf and the Grim Reaper himself. Christ only knows as to why exactly Wolfy McMantits and the personification of Death would need to be operating an illegal sweatshop, but by the way that the pudgy, pasty faced lead singer dramatically points at Death like he'd raped his mother seems to indicate that they were probably manufacturing bootleg Grim Reaper (The band) merchandise.

Anyway, after viewing this clip (Which is included below) with almost religious fanaticism, I decided to compile this list:

Thing's we've learnt from Grim Reaper, or Why Grim Reaper should've been in charge of the liberation of Iraq, not Bush.

1:As clearly illustrated by the opening montage of shots, when staging an attack on purveyors of false metal, It's always important to drive a heavily armoured, semi-aquatic personnel carrier with big fuck-off spikes and chains adorning it. It is also important to then negate the intended effect of the armour by riding atop it as if it was an iron steed, letting all and sundry know that your armour is completely useless.
Of course, who needs armour when your skin is composed of crystallised guitar solos and your perm is the mythical perm of power?

Speaking of, immaculate perms are a definite yes, nothing strikes fear into the heart of a slave trading wolf creature like perfectly coiled, bouncy curls. They also add gravity to dramatic shots of leather clad brothers of metal. Don't let that flaming war torch get too close to your hairsprayed masterpiece though, or else the battle for metal will be lost before it even starts!

Another thing, drive through every single body of water you come across, everything from a mudpuddle to a river of Slayer blood. Why? Because you can. Heavily armoured Semi amphibious personnel carriers don't come cheap, flaunt that shit!

2: If you're part man, part wolf, spend most of your day practising shirtless armcrossing, this will make up two thirds of your work day.

3. If you're a leather vest clad henchmen, spend all day perfecting your half assed, backhanded swipe (0:59) so when the time comes to use it on an unruly slave, you'll make it look completely effortless... As in, you're too fucking lazy to even make an effort.
Seriously, how limpwristed is he?

4. If you point dramatically into the distance every few seconds, even if you're miles away from anyone or anything, evil forces can sense your rocking righteousness and will exchange torrid looks of brownie baking fear. This is especially effective if you're a fat, three foot high pasty faced dwarf with phenomenal vocal pitch and an ill fitting studded leather girdle.

5. It's customary to announce your arrival with a guy in crotch huggers hoisting his guitar into the air (1:08), every battle since Napoleon's day has opened the same way.

6.(1:30) I don't really have anything I've learnt from this section, except to possibly not hire Grim Reaper's choreographer. The lethargic way Tubby halts that slave on the wheel and then breaks his chains WITH THE POWER OF ROCK is especially ridiculous. The look on slaveboy's face pretty much mirrors my reaction to this chode load of a scene.

7. (1:53) Bahahahahaha... Sorry. When face to face with overwhelming odds, the only logical thing to do is pirouette awkwardly and thrust your fist into the air, smiting all with the awesome power of perm. This is doubly effective if you're joined by a buddy who's like three seconds out of time and can barely stand beneath the weight of his upright guitar. This will make any Wolfy McMantits in the vicinity raise his arms with angry disapproval.

8. (2:06- 2:36) When pitted against a beast (Not just wolfmen!) in a circle-fight to the death, it's a little known fact that you can slay it armed solely with some tasty riffs. The more frenetically you noodle that fretboard, the more you clog it's arteries with the fatty deposits of metal, eventually causing a shredding lick induced cardiac arrest.
That's right. You can KILL with the power of Metal. Remember that.

9: After your buddy destroys his foe with rock, it's NOT cool to prance about in front of the people you just liberated, pumping your fists and gyrating your hips. It's just not.
And how funny is it that he opens his arms up as if inviting hugs like six times, yet everyone avoids him like the fucking plague. "We don't care if you just saved us, no hugs for you Porky!"


10: Death's a pussy. After watching his old buddy Cocknuckle McWolfatron get ROCKED to death (3:30)(Heh heh, rocked, get it? What? How could you miss that witty visual pun?)
He just stands there and lets that little leather clad down syndrome afflicted blonde guy point his finger and run his mouth, then he turns away and DISAPPEARS? What the fuck? He's DEATH, you know, the one constant in life, the immutable force of life and death personified, and he runs away from a quartet of four British wankers who haven't spent a day in the sun since preschool?
Really?
Wow. I guess even I underestimated the sheer magnitude of the power of Metal. Look at Tubby's face at the very end. That IS metal. Death is not.

That is all.



(Kumquat Turtleloaf is currently destroying his brain with cannabinoids whilst trying not to laugh hysterically at every known picture of Manowar.)