The Ugly Truth About Comic Con

The Ugly Truth About Comic Con

Jul 16, 2009


Each year thousands of fanboys (and girls) descend upon San Diego for a geeky little convention called Comic Con, which used to be about comics until Hollywood studios decided to muscle their way in and literally take over the place – promoting their upcoming movies, TV shows and whatever else it was they needed to sell to the teenager who spends his Friday nights playing video games while making imaginary sweet love to the ripped Megan Fox poster taped to the ceiling above their bed.

Gross it is, and one lap around the convention floor will reveal a smelly, sweaty atmosphere full of larger-than-life guys who couldn’t find their way to a gym if one existed in their own bedroom, and girls who dress in the tightest, most uncomfortable-looking anime character outfits because, well, for four straight days they finally get to go from nerdy weird silent chick to Con uber-hottie.

But I haven’t yet talked about the lines. Oh, the wonderful lines. See, at Comic Con, there’s always a line that wraps around something – and nine out of ten times that’s the line you need to be on. It’ll be 45 minutes to go to the bathroom, an hour to fetch some of those free pink stormtrooper cupcakes and four hours if you actually want a seat in the fantastical, 6,000-seat Hall H. Luckily for those attending, this year Comic Con managed to pack all the cool movie-related events into one day, Thursday, and then decided to really screw with everyone by shoving The Twilight Saga: New Moon panel right in the middle of it all.

This way, thousands upon thousands of screaming Twi-hards will be camped out for days to see Robert Pattinson from 1,500 feet away on a big jumbo screen, leaving those fans itching to see another panel crap out of luck. Never underestimate a Twilight fan – those kids are so passionate and ridiculously warped they’d do just about anything to see a fraction of Pattinson’s left ankle. Compete with that? No thanks!

But there’s always the parties …

… oh wait, if you’re just a regular fan you can’t get into parties. Looks like it’s World of Warcraft back at the hotel room while studios attempt to wine and dine the press (ie: the people whom they hope will promote the films online and give them a good review) at some lavish party with celebrities, free finger foods, exotic dancers and live wrestling. Yes, live wrestling. Because why the hell not!

So if you’re not going to Comic Con this year, don’t worry about it. Hang back with the rest of the poor-ass geeks and read about the thing online, where you’re at home and comfortable with your sexually frustrated, neurotic self. And if you are going to Comic Con … Godspeed, my friend.

...and if you can, bring me back one of those pink stormtrooper cupcakes.

Categories: WTF, Hollywood!?
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