THIS IS NOT A CHILD’S BEDROOM.
INTRODUCTION: Over the last decade-plus of getting my Internet on, a disturbing thing has occurred to me. Just about every single thing that I like enough to say “hey, I am A FAN of that” has an internet fan base made up largely of the worst people there have ever been. Heavy metal fans run the gamut from meth lab hillbillies to neo-Nazis to uppity pricks who look down on anyone who owns a record with a print run of more than 300 copies to Manowar fans with whatever disorder it is that Manowar fans have. Chicago Bears fans tend to be slow-witted closet racists who think that the way they manage the team in Madden ’08 is a way to manage a football team that can actually happen. Pro wrestling fandom is a minefield of pillow-humping Japan fetishists and basement-dwelling would-be kid touchers who take stopwatches to wrestling shows, (because how long a match is tells them how good it was) and who are still trying to come up with ways to excuse or defend Chris Benoit murdering his family. But man, Transformers fans. Grown-ass adults who can’t scrape together the cash for the electric bill, but will still shell out $40 for a child’s toy of the 357th version of Optimus Prime to come out this year. People for whom this isn’t a nostalgic thing from their youth, but a very real and very important thing with important new developments happening all the time. People who actually sit in line on opening night every time one of those dogshit live action movies comes out, and mentally prepare their super-positive online review before the opening credits even start, because it’s the Transformers, and dammit, they’ve got nothing else in their lives. I hope everything I ever do pisses those people off.
That being said, I’m gonna go put on my Transformers sleep pants and go watch some cartoons, because I’m a giant man-baby.
What you see above is where all the magic happens. Locked up securely in a secret location somewhere that looks an awful lot like the inside of our garage is the secret TV/DVD/VCR combo on which I watch my secret Transformers DVDs. For real, though, the garage is as perfect a place for me to nerd out, as I’ve got that place set up with all my objects of such a nature, from old, cartridge-style video game systems, a random assortment of Chicago Bears merchandise and the toys of my youth, and a full old-style makeshift stereo setup, complete with early-80s vintage tape deck and at least one Dio record. It is truly a sight to behold, but don’t get it twisted, as I refuse to use the term “man-cave” for that place. Because I reject the normal sitcom-inspired view of things, where even if two people love each other and their weekly whacky misunderstandings that get solved in 30 minutes all go toward strengthening this fact, men and women are still inherently incompatible creatures, incapable of actually liking each other, so the man must construct a secret “no girls allowed” lair where he can fart, drink beer, and watch the big game without having to take the youngest daughter to ballet class. You know, “women all be listenin’ to the opera, yo” or whatever. It’s bullshit, and I reject that. All people of all genders are welcome here, for it is a chill place for chill people all get along in harmony. It’s not so much my man-cave as it is my Great Hall, kind of like the one Odin has. Actually, I think the entire point of this paragraph and every other paragraph I’ve ever written is to further prove that I am exactly like Odin. Also, I’m an adult now, and it would just look weird to decorate the living room with a bunch of Iron Maiden poster flags and a rusty ammo belt. So there. Let’s watch some Transformers. (more…)
INTRODUCTION: This is a thing I probably would have started a year ago on the old site if I had any sort of motivation at the time. You see, back in the day, when I was about two feet shorter and a couple hundred pounds lighter, the Transformers were my thing. I had Transformers toys, I had Transformers stickers, I had Transformers trading cards, I had Transformers comic books, and if such a thing had existed, I would have had the goddamn Transformers mouthwash. And needless to say, the highlight of every weekday of my early life was getting home from school by 3:30 in the P.M. to see the cartoon on Channel 15, or to watch the VHS version, in times when they had flip-flopped it with G.I. Joe, and it would be over by the time I got home. And even after the show’s run ended and I was much too old to do such a thing, every so often, I would bust out the couple tapes with the couple episodes we hadn’t taped over, watching them over and over, remembering other episodes I had seen, and wishing I had those too.
And after a couple years of wondering how I could scrape up the hundred bucks or so to buy someone’s collection of the tapes off Ebay, the DVDs finally hit. But at like 40 bucks a season, I couldn’t afford those any more than I could the bootleg VHS version, so I had to pass, until the damn things seemed to always go out of print five minutes after they were released. But finally in 2009, someone who knew what they were doing re-re-released them all at a time when I had way more disposable cash and a full season of something cost about half of what it used to, so in the words of Abraham Lincoln, that shit was ON. And now, at long last, the time has come to finally do a thing that I’m sure at least seventy people on the World Wide Web haven’t already done: I’m going to watch it all and tell you about it. (more…)