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| FROM THE GALLERIES |
Omega Supreme Botch's Collection (2005) |
| I'm A-Twit |
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As you can see, I have started buying the Transformers: Animated toys. Even though I have not yet watched a single episode of the show. At first, I just bought Ratchet and the Optimus Prime vs. Megatron 2-pack (above). These toys are cool. Not mind-blowingly awesome, but clever, posable and certainly the most uniquely cartoonish-looking Transformers ever released. But after opening them, I realized I wasn't content. I actually went back to two different Walmarts late last night looking for more, but they were already sold out of everything except the ones I already had (ha!) and Blackarachnia, so I bought Blackarachnia. This is most likely a good thing, because I realize I probably would have bought any and all that I had found.
What the hell is wrong with me?
My first real piano. It's a starter piano, very used, a little beat up, it won't be tuned for another couple of weeks, but it plays nice and it's mine. Now when I hear the upstairs neighbor's new dog clickity-clack-running around, or the guitar studio in front practicing "Hey Joe" for the zillionth time, I can think to myself, "Jus' you wait, muthafuckas. Beethoven p'ano waltzez in tha crib, an' shit!"
This is Tsunami. When he was a kitten, his white and black sections swirled into one another, reminiscent of storm winds and the yin-yang. He was also pretty rambunctious, hence the stormy Japanese name: Tsunami. As he aged over the last four years his distinctive black-white swirls have become less distinct, but the more drastic changes have been in his health and disposition. Tsunami has become what Heather affectionately terms a "special-needs kitty."
My wife is a champion. She champions my Transformers as clever, unique, diverse and interesting. She also champions their wonderful capacity for pure kitschy silliness. It is the latter that we focus on today, for my most excellent bride gifted me with the latest in Cybertronic Starch. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you... Optimash Prime!
"Freedom is the right of all sentient potatoes!"
Optimash Prime, the heroic leader of the Autospuds.
There was the packing of everything that we own into boxes. We were very meticulous, as Doll and I are wont to be. For the sake of elegant calligraphic consistency, Heather labeled every box herself with its number and a weight gauge reminiscent of a collector's grading scale [Heavy, Very Heavy, Extremely Heavy]. The cats were still doing OK at this point. Sure, things were becoming unfamiliar, but they love cardboard so much, and it was stacked so deliciously high, they remained in good spirits. This would change. Personally, I found the whole packing experience deliciously cathartic. Who wouldn't? Evaluate your materialistic self. Trash what's unimportant. Cushion what's precious. Inventory and appraise! Eat out a lot.
There was the going-away party. That was awesome. Around 30 festively lamenting adults and one fearless toddler. I got completely wrecked, as is my habit, but was cogent enough at the apex of the party to stand on my coffee table and give my long-gestating Farewell Speech. "I am one for giving speeches...," it began. Mentions of "those I've known forever, those I knew not long enough..." Later, it was suggested that I was perhaps overly maudlin and final considering that I will be seeing many of the party attendees at Charlie & Jen's wedding in October (in Boston); however, there were definitely those in attendance that I may never see again, and more importantly... I AM LEAVING NEW YORK. This is cause for great solemnity, from my particular vantage point. I will miss a lot of people there more than they may know.
I haven't blogged in a bit. Though I've had a bit of a cold, I've actually also been working on a significant update to the Transformers Box Art Archive that I think you'll enjoy. You know, if you like that sort of thing. To tide you over, here are Tsunami's reviews of my recent Transformer acquisitions...
Pretty much the last thing Doll does every night before turning in is clean the kitty litter. Every fucking night. I personally think it's a terribly unsavory way to end one's day, but it's her thing, whatever.
Usually she'll turn on the ceiling light to see better when she does this. By "better" I mean "like a God harnessing the radiance of a sun" because the ceiling light is so powerfully, ridiculously, offensively bright as to be a crime of personal violation. Why does she need such blinding luminescence? Because the kitty litter is enclosed. Like a little room. I shit you not, it's the fucking Waldorf-Astoria of the kitty shitbox set. Look at this:
As you can see, I couldn't resist it any longer and finally picked up the Toys "R" Us exclusive Optimus Primal vs Megatron set celebrating the 10th anniversary of Beast Wars. I know, I know, I already sold most all of my Beast Wars toys. But see, though I had the Transmetal and Transmetal II versions of Megatron, I never had the original, so you can understand how tempting this was. Besides, Charlie will be over on Sunday, and he'll appreciate seeing the original Primal again. It was always his favorite (he has a great love of apes and spring-loaded firing mechanisms).
Tsunami has a tradition to maintain.
So, two updates to the Archive this week. First, from the same source as the previous update we have a scan of the very original character art for Vroom, who sadly has one of the worst names on Cybertron. You may notice that, contrary to the Archive standard of white backgrounds for all its edits, Vroom is on a black-to-white gradient. Well, apparently that's how the original art was done. I imagine there are a few Pretenders in the Archive whose art would be better if I had access to that original gradient background art instead of just scanning the front of the boxes. Oh, well... something to keep in mind. Vroom's art comes from the same source as the last update.
Second, we have Sparkstalker's Japanese recolor, Jabile. Martin McVay convinced me to finally just do some Photoshop tweaking to the Sparkstalker art to arrive at Jabile's coloring. I think I did an OK job.
This is Tsunami. Always chirping and mewing and meowing and whining. Always wanting attention from Doll. Shamelessly begs for it. So unjustifiably skittish all the time.
But sometimes he's cute.
As I might have tediously mentioned, Botch's home computer ("Polyhex") has been unwell; in fact, I am still awaiting a new motherboard for it. Connectivity and device issues have also recently plagued Dollface's laptop (which so far as I know doesn't have a name, but is adorned with stickers such as an Olivia illustration of Bettie Page and Starlite, Rainbow Brite's horse). Also over the last couple of weeks, both of our cats — Commodore and Tsunami — were separately plagued with unseemly bouts of diarrhea, sometimes lasting days. And amidst all these frustrating occurrences, it finally occurred to me (and maybe you know where I'm going with this): Sick Cats and Sick Computers are practically the same fucking thing.
It gets unwell. You can describe the symptoms, but are often unable to diagnose the exact problem because the symptoms could be caused by many different things. You're often not at all sure what precipitated it or even exactly when it started. Was it a natural failing of equipment, or was something foreign introduced into its system? It's very frustrating, because it can't talk to you to tell you what's ailing it. So you visit an expert or call one in to examine the patient. They often speak with authority, but are they really so sure? They do tests. They say it's one thing or another. They charge an awful lot for their services, and the cure is often expensive as well.
Well, "horrific" only insofar as I've seen a lot of horror movies, but in truth the week itself has not been fabulous. I've had a touch of the flu that manifested itself in terms of dreadful muscle aches, mild fever and a throat so sore it woke me up at night. I spent Halloween watching M*A*S*H episodes, missed a day of work, was far from chipper for the return performance of The Monster Project, but I've logged a lot of GameBoy and movie time.
And on top of it all, this morning I woke up congested. Blew my nose a dozen times. Must have been that beer or those tokes from last night. Should have known I wasn't out of the woods yet. So today I'm going to spend listening to The Cure and dusting my Transformers. Why? Because they are very fucking dusty.
