San Diego Comic-Con 2012: Apparently Zombies Are Still A Thing
And we took a lot more photos while we were there, so you might want to check them out.
Coming this fall: a remake of that movie based on a Robin Cook novel nobody remembers.
I assume there are folks who can handle the San Diego Comic-Con without drinking -- children, for example -- but I'm not one of them. And while it's true the convention is one of the primo people-watching events in the world, the constant marketing drones handing out flyers for the next network sci-fi TV series (Revolution, this fall on NBC!) and flabby Wolverines before retreating to the nearest tavern for a belt or three.
But in the interest of journalistic authenticity, I have done my best to get down some initial impressions from my first go-round at Comic-Con. My hangover salutes you.
Not to put too fine a point on it, but this thing is huge. Your only option for parking, if you're one of those people too stupid to obtain a permit for one of the "nearby" Petco Park lots (*cough*), is $30 (per day) for other lots, or joining the endless serpentine of folks looking for street parking.
The Padres wisely schedule road games for the weekend of Comic-Con, and I wouldn't be surprised if businesses downtown and in the Gaslamp district don't just tell their employees to stay home.
No Supernatural? Laaaame.
Check-in for us was surprisingly quick, though I have no idea what I'm supposed to do with this giant bag they gave me. My 19th century aversion to carrying a purse wouldn't let me just drape it over my shoulder and give the CW free advertising for their horrible Vampire Diaries show, so I folded it up and crammed it in my messenger bag. A bag in a bag, how meta.
I elected not to check out any panels on Thursday...well, maybe "elected" is the wrong word. More like, I'd just gotten out of a three-hour flight and didn't feel like sitting in a goddamn line for another 90 minutes to wait and grab a seat for the Frankenweenie jerkaround.
I have the Resident Evil 5 dog and pony show today, anyway. Have to pace myself.
There's also little effort made anymore to gloss over the fact that there's plenty about Comic-Con that has nothing to do with comics, or sci-fi, or geek interests in general. Case in point: the massive line for autographs from 50 Shades of Grey authout E.L. James. Next to her, a bemused Richard Hatch ("Apollo" from the original Battlestar: Galactica) with nary a person in line:
I hate mankind.