Decepticon jets are great, but because they're supposed to be airborne, they're not as fun to send rolling across your kitchen floor. Kind of dispels the illusion, doesn't it? Decepticon cars, though... You can send those evil warriors careening across hardwood floors into cats and babies and ankles, immersed in the wheeled malevolence, cackling all the way. When the Stunticons were introduced in the cartoon as the Decepticons' response to Autobot road mastery, I loved it. More Decepticons is always a good thing, and 'Cons that intentionally collide into the likes of Jazz or Sideswipe are even better. And then, when they transform and merge into one giant super warrior... Decepti-Bliss. And now we have greatly improved box art for all of them!

Let's start off with the two archetypical maniacs of the outfit, Drag Strip (left) and Wildrider (right). These two lack any complexity beyond the desire to cause mayhem and suffering. They're exactly the sort of uncomplicated and unquestioning warriors you want on the front line. I was trying in vain to think of a word for someone who demonstrates bad sportsmanship over everything in life, gloating over his victories and correspondingly raging uncontrollably when he is beaten or slighted; whatever the word is, that's Drag Strip. Even his fellow Decepticons find him insufferable.

As a complement, Wildrider resembles a hyperactive and violent child. Racing along without fear or concern, if there's one Stunticon who truly "cackles", it's him. In fact, he's one of the few Decepticons whose actual function is TERRORIST.

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While Fireflight might have been the most unnoticed Aerialbot, Slingshot was definitely the most unavoidably noticeable. Because he's a loud-mouthed, arrogant braggart with an inflated sense of self-worth. When the Aerialbots were first "born" in the cartoon, with the exception of their leader, Silverbolt, they all thought little of the Autobots, even less of humans, and admired the Decepticons, and Slingshot was the self-nominated spokesman for the the majority of these sentiments. Eventually, of course, they learned first-hand the supposed error of their ways. Of course. Because it was a cartoon. And while Slingshot, like the rest of the Aerialbots, had become more appreciative of humans and Autobots, he remained an arrogant braggart.

What do you say? Slingshot: cocksure hero, or annoying bastard? (It's difficult for me to judge objectively, because I'm a cocksure bastard of questionable heroism myself.)

The improved box art for Slingshot was edited and repaired by Vito Adesso (visiting all the way from Italy) and was scanned from the Japanese laserdisc box set scans. Thanks, Vito!

We needed a dessert to follow the crustaceans at last week's drunken crab-fest. Something with a little Truth, some Justice, and maybe a touch of The American Way. This looks like a job... for Superman Cake!

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The latest improved piece for the Archive was a Japanese-exclusive character from the Masterforce era, the Autobot flag-bearer God Ginrai, the ultimate form of Ginrai when combined with and enhanced by his drone, Godbomber. This art comes entirely from Jeremy Barlow of Soundwave's Oblivion. Sweet, eh?

While God Ginrai was never released stateside, his Godbomber-less form was released here as Powermaster Optimus Prime. (In the Japanese Masterforce cartoon, Ginrai is a completely new character, and the fact that he bears an unmistakable resemblance to the legendary Optimus Prime is completely ignored. Optimus who?) I've owned Powermaster Optimus Prime since he was first released in 1988 -- probably one of the last Transformers I actually bought as a kid -- but since I acquired the reissue of God Ginrai a few years back, my old PM Prime has seemed a bit redundant. Even without the Godbomber armor, the Japanese version is simply a better toy, and since I don't like to keep duplicates on the shelf, my long-carried Powermaster Optimus Prime often sits in a drawer. And yet, I haven't been able to bring myself to actually sell him. I wouldn't get too much for him, true, but it's more that I can't easily bring myself to sell one of my original childhood toys, even when it's been supplanted by a newer, better model.

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I cannot recall how my association with Botch the Crab began. As far back as March 1999 he had taken over this website and my online persona with his caustic wit and salty charms. But I cannot recall his invention. I never had an special interest in crabs growing up. When Botch comes up in conversation, the first thing people usually ask is, "Are you a Cancer?" To which I respond along the lines of, "Oh, definitely. Astrologically, too." Unsurprisingly, I've never given a shit about horoscopes and constellations. Nonetheless, I do feel a certain kinship with crabs. I like to armor myself against the world. I like leading with my claws. When given two choices as an ultimatum, I'll often move crabwise to the side instead. And crabs just look cool.

"So why would you eat crabs?" I was asked this over the weekend while sitting down with a bunch of friends to crack, scoop and dig in to some whole crabs. I'd never cleaned and eaten a whole crab before, probably because I don't like touching animals or insects or people or living things in general. (Give me a choice between lying on the sidewalk and lying on the grass and I'll probably take the former.) But crabs are really yummy, and I like to overcome my fears and aversions, so there I was, cleaning, cooking and consuming crustaceans. I would have done live crabs, but that would have involved keeping a half-dozen in my bathtub overnight, and that wasn't going to happen.

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Cosmos travels through the rarefied upper atmosphere of our apartment. It's a special privilege few of my Transformers enjoy. Heather thinks Cosmos is cute for several reasons. His "flying saucer" mode is so woefully outdated and antiquarian that it cannot help but make you feel sympathy for the little guy. He's tiny -- palm-sized, really -- and colored so non-threateningly. Without ever reading his tech spec, Heather said, "He just seems lonely." Of course, that's exactly what he is: lonely. Isolated. Exiled. So Cosmos moves from atop door moldings to windowsills to desks to bookcases. As of this moment he's currently docked on Fortress Maximus' landing pad, but that's only temporary. He'll be back peering down on us from a doorway molding by next week.

The nicely improved box art for Cosmos is another from the Japanese laserdisc box sets that was nailed by Nailbomb. (What a seductively Decepticon name!)

I'm trying to finish my will. I'm not dying or anything, I just figured it would be a smart and easy thing to get out of the way. The basics are simple: cremate me, and all my money and possessions go to my wife, Heather. The unexpected difficulty I'm running into is the whole "if my wife does not survive me" part. We're blissfully childless, and I'm not especially close to my family. Who gets my money and stuff?

I tried thinking over my friends and relatives to see if there was someone who I felt most deserving of a sudden influx of cash, but nobody stuck out. I'm not even sure what criteria I should use. Someone who needs it the most, presumably because their situation in life is unfairly more costly than their means? Or whomever I like the most? Whoever is youngest and therefore has "their whole life ahead of them"? It all seems so arbitrary.

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Transforming robots are awesome; dinosaurs are awesome; thus, transforming robot dinosaurs was a doubly awesome inevitability. THE DINOBOTS! And now we have greatly improved box art for all five warriors. Let's take a little tour through the ancient past and show off this formidable quintet.

We might as well start with their fearless leader, the Tyrannosaurus Rex: GRIMLOCK. Whereas the existence of mutinous Decepticons seeking to overthrow their leader was established at the very beginning of the mythos, mutinous Autobots was an unknown thing. Enter Grimlock, the unsympathetic and merciless Dinobot commander who rivaled Optimus Prime in strength and firepower, if not wisdom. Grimlock has been portrayed in many different ways, as everything from a brilliant military tactician (with an unfortunate speech impediment) to a stupid clown, and sometimes a combination of the two. He's never evil, but his ego, his rationalizations and his lack of optimism (pun?) have sometimes motivated him to make some foolhardy decisions with bad repercussions for his fellow Autobots. It doesn't matter -- we all love him. "Me Grimlock -- bad ass!"

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This is Natalya. She's one of my best friends in Portland! She's really sweet and really intelligent and kinda crazy and very emotional and a very fun gal. She's an honor-roll psychology student with a thing for goth fashion (and cleavage) and she likes kitty cats and sushi and blueberry vodka with Coke!

Last Christmas everybody was poor, so we decided to do, like, "no money" gifts. Like, making stuff. I wasn't sure what to make. I can make breakfast; I can make a solid argument; but I don't really make "stuff" or "things". But then, with only a week left before Christmas, a musical melody struck me -- well, more of a theme -- and it instantly occurred to me that this was a very Natalya-esque theme (to my mind, at least). A short little piano piece was composed and notated immediately. True inspiration!

Sadly, my compositional vision outstripped my actual performance talent and I could not play the piece well. I figured I had a week to work on it constantly -- and then I practically sliced the tip of my thumb off, severely hampering my ability to practice. On Christmas day I presented her with the score and s-t-u-m-b-l-e-d through the ditty, promising her a recording soon. Well, I underestimated my perfectionism (as well as my poor rehearsal ethic) and it ultimately took me over 5 months to present her with the final recording. But I finally did it! And now, with her permission, I get to share it with you. It's a caprice!

"Natalya"
by Adam Alexander

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