“Actually its pretty screwed up what they did. They gave everyone off on Friday (very strange) then last night at 6:30 PM (right before kickoff [of the Jets/Steelers playoff game]) they called me and told me the magazines were no longer in publication. I was asked to go get my personal belongings and they told me the office was closed and moved to a different location and they would let us know when it was okay to get them. When I asked about severance or  unemployment they shrugged me off and quickly dismissed me. So, I still have no idea what is happening in those regards.” — iFanboy’s anonymous interview with a Wizard staffer laid off today.

In the coming days there will be no shortage of anti-Wizard commentary, impotent rage from ex-employees (anonymous and otherwise), industry creators, and level-headed commentary about where the company is going (accompanied by complete shit-fits and mud slinging in the comment sections). If you haven’t heard, Wizard and Toyfare Magazine are no more. They are survived by InQuest and Anime Insider. There’s also plenty of well-crafted commentary, such as this post from friend and ex-Wizard Editor/Writer Sean T. Collins. Sean, as always, provides a level of discourse and insight that make posts like mine completely unnecessary. But, as you know, I’m not always capable of such level-headed output. I’ve said it before: I’ve long stopped caring about Gareb or Steven Shamus, but I still enjoy shaking their ant-farm. I know more than one of my posts has caused some frantic morning phone calls, particularly if they involved my desire to involve the Shami in a Human Centipede of my own design.

That’s because, if you have ever dealt with them personally or professionally, you will know that they are a couple of wonderful, wonderful dildos. The colorful, extra-ribbed kind. If they didn’t exist, Keith Giffen would have invented them. The movie trailer for The Ghost and Mr. Chicken champions Don Knotts as “The World’s Bravest Coward,” but The Shami are in the Top 5. I wouldn’t give them the ego-boost of calling them #1. I actually can’t figure out if they’re purposefully brazen and cocky in their cowardice—whether it’s the tactless firing of long-time employees without, screwing over retailers, stiffing creators, etc…—or if they spent so much time in their youth launching the magazine, that they didn’t get to develop the correct range of inter-personal skills and emotions necessary to make people not hate you.

If it wasn’t so sad that people like my first boss—Dan Reilly, a wonderful guy who was with the company until the bitter end, and rumored to be laid off with a spineless phone call—and diamond-in-the-rough editors like Andy Serwin were laid off today, you could slap some wacky organ on the Shamus’ dealings and call it an episode of Arrested Development. The stories I’ve heard over the years both in and out of the office…you can’t make shit like this up. And I won’t even start on Mike Cotton. Mike and I haven’t always had a pleasant relationship—our personalities are tailor made for a hero/arch-villain relationship—but he’s certainly capable of doing bigger things. Unlike the Shami, Mike really can be a good and talented guy when he wants and, if I ever did, I sort of regret lumping him in with them. He may be kind of a son of a bitch, but at least he’s got a inkling of talent and experience. I may not have always liked him, but I respected him. Maybe that’s a backhanded compliment, I don’t know. I just don’t want to hold that grudge anymore. We had some fun. I’ve gotta echo what this ex-staffer said today on iFanboy:

FWE: Honestly, I know it will fail. First off, there is no leadership. The people that are still on staff have no digital publishing experience or seem to want to be there. As more money goes into the conventions, the less the owners care about the magazine side.  They plan on publicly trading and launching this app for free with no real advertising. I think anyone who does a little research before purchasing stock will find just how screwed that place is.

I’d buy that for a dollar. Well, not the Wizard stock….the first part. The other day I realized I’ve been living in Illinois longer than my time spent in New York. The whole thing’s distant from me, and has been for a long time. To paraphrase Biggie, it was all a dream…I used to read Wizard Magazine. Gareb S. and Joey Q. up in the limousine. It’s where I got my start, and like many people I took what I needed from it and tried not to look back. I met some amazing people. Met the best group of friends in this lifetime. The infamous Wizard World message board censorship lead to a great comic community called Panels on Pages, and they are truly wonderful people. I burned some bridges, sure…somebody’s gotta shake the ant farm. Why so serious?

Many of my colleagues went on to much bigger and better things, and we still talk about the Golden Years at Wizard (there really were a few). Those who stayed behind continued some really, really great output. Rich Johnston? Eh, sorry man…you weren’t one of them. They put food on their family’s table, they made that shitty commute into New York when the offices moved, they put out entire magazines by themselves as the staff dwindled, they took all the sticks with no promise of carrots. They wake up every day, waiting for the other shoe to drop. And today…thud. Or “Thwack!” I should say, I guess.

You don’t have to look too far to know the online venture isn’t going to work. It hasn’t about three other times, most notably GeekChic.com. I’m not linking to it, but go there if you must. It needs the traffic. Overall, I feel kind of sad. I don’t feel like getting in a Human Centipede with Gareb today. I feel bad for my friends. I feel bad knowing that any one of them could launch their own venture on their own, and succeed in spades. Anything under the “Wizard Brand” just isn’t going to fly. Simply put: it’s a shit sandwich but, unlike before, taking a bite is kind of optional. Too many other sites do it better, including ex-Anime Insider editor Rob Bricken, who runs the immensely, immensely popular Topless Robot. In the online Geek World, Rob is one of the pacesetters now. So you can bet when he says…

Since the one thing Wizard has never figured out is how the internet works, I’m not holding my breath for a return to glory. But I would like to call out the gutless shitweasels in charge of the company who had the unmitigated hubris and bastardry to issue a press release today, heralding both the announcement of “Wizard World” and that Wizard is now being publicly traded without ever mentioning the cancellation of either magazine, or the god-knows-how-many people they laid off. Not only it is callous and classless, telling people they should invest money in their company ON THE SAME DAY THEY CANCELED THEIR TWO MOST VISIBLE PRODUCTS… well, that sums up Wizard Entertainment more than anything.

…that people are listening. So while it’s easy to go with the old “Wizard can’t copy edit” jokes or “Wizard has just been shitty boob graphics” jokes during this time, just remember to direct your ire straight to the top, instead of where good people are not being paid enough to copy edit AND come up with something other than boob jokes AND write Gareb’s masthead letter (he never wrote his own masthead. In other breaking news, Burt Reynolds wears a toupee). And, even then, you almost can’t get mad at the people straight at the top. Because it falls on deaf ears. Because it’s aiming for the slow kid in a dodge ball game. Because it’s like getting mad at yourself for touching the stove every time and finding out, “Shit! That’s HOT!” Because when the Wal-Mart of ComicCons doesn’t work out, you’re going to say “of course.” Because it’s like yelling at your retarded friend, who you know is retarded and absolutely incapable of anything, but you yell at him anyway because he keeps doing the same thing and you expect different results. Because you’re a Goon, Gareb Shamus. Goon, goon, goon, goon, goon, goon, goon, goon. And that’s what I’m going to call you for the rest of your life: Goon. Oh, you too Steven. Goon. You’ll always be Goon.

We all have fond memories of the magazine. I could have been writing the Farm Beat in Peoria, actually…I literally got a call the day I was leaving for my unpaid internship at Wizard, offering me a paid internship to write the Farm Beat for the Peoria Journal Star. I told him, “I’m sorry, but I gotta go for it. This is a big opportunity, I think. My stuff’s all packed…I gotta say no. I’m sorry. I gotta go.”

We all still talk about Wizard fondly for a reason, and those reasons don’t involve Gareb Shamus…even though he was the catalyst. It became bigger than he was capable of handling, I believe. Tell anyone outside our little online and Geek Niche clique that you “worked for Wizard,” and they will look at you very, verry strange. But this was my world. It was a dream, A DREAM, of mine to write Twisted ToyFare Theater. And I got to do that. I got to interview celebrities, and see comic creators I respected stick dollar bills in stripper’s butts, and talk at length with my heroes, and live with illegal aliens, and see the New Frontier guy throw a beer in someone’s face. I got to know Harvey Pekar. I got Christmas cards from Jim Lee. Keith Giffen laughed at my jokes, for Christ’s sake. I got prison mail. I put Brian Cunningham’s head on an action figure. I played Foosball with Jason Mewes. I sat on a toilet seat after Jessica Biel came out of the Green Room bathroom. It was still warm. I ate a sandwich with Ryan Reynolds, stole Adam Setzler’s water at a Planet Hollywood PR event, got tons of free games and action figures, flirted with Julie Benz, snuck Ultimate Fighter Nate “The Rock” Quarry into a ComicCon, talked Road House with Seth Green and my buddy Mel. It was all a dream. And so, now…here we are.

My thoughts go out to everyone affected by this announcement financially and personally today, including a few good, unnamed friends. Shown: The 2006 staff of Wizard, my friends, etc… Raise your hand if you still work there…

I was checking out a friend’s Facebook page this morning, and I realized I’d never seen his video blog. Or “Vlog,” if you prefer. Or “Internet Video Program.”

Then I realized, “screw it: It’s 4:46 AM, and I can’t sleep on account of the Pit-of-Hell-Itching All Over My Body. I’m watching these.” And not a moment too soon, as I was about to be DEPRESSED BEYOND THE CAPACITY FOR HUMAN THOUGHT when I read a press release sent to me about the new Michael Jackson MMORPG coming out.

Shown: The Casual Raping of a Dead Man’s Corpse. Level Up, America!

To wit:

Entire continents will be created that will celebrate Michael’s unique genius in a way that underscores his place as the greatest artist of all time.  Michael’s longtime fans will feel at home as they find themselves in places that seem familiar and yet unknown at the same time, and new generations will discover and experience Michael’s life in a way never before imagined.  At its core, Planet Michael is a massive social gaming experience that will allow everyone, from the hardcore fan to the novice, to connect and engage in collaborative in-game activities with people worldwide.

You may be asking yourself, “Chris, what the fuck could this possibly mean? How could Michael Jackson’s legacy sprout entire continents? I don’t know. I just don’t. I can’t even process it. SO back to the thing I want to show you. Richard Fairgray’s Vlog. After I got done crying from laughing at these, I thought these would be a great counter-balance to yesterday’s blog, in which my friend Missy described me as looking like “a rapist who doesn’t know any better,” and my friend Hoffmaster 3000 described as “Holy Mountain Part 2.”

Not to mention my whole screed about Lady Gaga, which I felt bad about after I saw her ranting against Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell…the fate of which will be decided today. And, if someone in the Senate changes their mind, I’ll have Gaga, in part, to thank. I mean, Bad Romance is still a crap candle, burning bright (IMAO). But at least she’s using that fame to do something worthwhile, instead of just wearing USDA Select Choice Cuts to made-up awards shows. But if anything is going to help wash the reality of a Michael Jackson MMORPG out of my mind forever, it’s these videos. I’m making my own reality now. I can’t deal with the real thing anymore.

*On a totally separate, semantics-based note. Do you remember when you first heard the word “Blog”? Wasn’t it fucking annoying? Didn’t it feel like an infection you wanted to fight off with medication? Or the word “Twitter”? Or Tweets? Or Vlog? And while they’re still grating to an extent, I don’t really think about it much anymore. I use them casually, and without thinking. I don’t even say “InterWebs” ironically, like all these fucking hipsters. I wonder what crazy, annoying language we’ll be using every single day of our lives in 5 to 10 years? Will an upstart called Text Rooster.com make Google the MySpace of search engines?  Will we be Flooglecasting? We’ll probably be Flooglecasting.

My wife and I came up with this comic strip, which makes me physically ill to produce or even look at. Anyway, here is Sweet Boy & Bloat Boy #1. I’m sorry.

I’m about to go to Lollapalooza for three whole days, so I think my new strip is appropriate (click for full size).

—In other news of note, I was right about Tommy Wisseau and the sneaking suspicion I had about his “legal council,” thanks to commenter Rebochan:

Just thought I’d let you know, “John” actually *is* Tommy Wiseau. He got outed in a Harper’s Bazaar article some time back and his little war with The Nostalgia Critic is getting this publicized.

—The JC in the Hood Crew are speaking up. Onward Ghetto Soldiers! (read last comments on page).

Shown: If the first thing you notice is this 25th Anniversary Pac-Man/Galaga cabinet, welcome to my world.

As you’re no doubt aware, today is Pac-Man’s birthday. I’m more than a little overwhelmed. With my wedding anniversary tomorrow (I swear I didn’t plan it that way), I’m never sure where my loyalties should lie this time of year. You know around Christmas, when they interview that crazy woman who fills her trailer with a shit ton of Santa Claus stuff? Except she’s had it up all year, and she says something like “Everyday is Christmas at 432 Orchard Alley Lane!” and you feel sick and sad for her? Well, that’s me. But for Pac-Man. My house is a little like wandering into Leatherface’s house, except instead of chicken bones hanging from the ceiling, it’s just Pac-Man stuff. Pac-Man is such a part of the backdrop in my house, that I forget how much I’ve actually accumulated from friends, family, eBay, flea markets and fans. Once you’re a known collector of something, it makes it easy for everyone to buy for you on holidays, which is nice. I’ve already covered some of my most coveted possessions in this NOT SAFE FOR WORK post from Joystick Division, but I took a stroll around my house and just took pictures of stuff I could actually see in front of me. Something I promised to do months ago. If I actually start digging, there’s hundreds more items strewn about…this is only scratching the surface.

So why Pac-Man?

Pac-Man is pure. Pac-Man is Pizza Hut breadsticks and a borrowed quarter from mom. Pac-Man is universal. Pac-Man is challenging and addictive 30 years later. Pac-Man is a warm yellow memory. Ok, scratch that last one. That didn’t sound right.

It’s the ghosts and blood, dust and mud, and the roar of an arcade crowd.

I made this Pac-Man beer cooler for my Pac-Man themed going away party in New York. I used my crappy cell phone video camera to capture this little magic event.

INSERT COIN AND CLICK THROUGH FOR MORE PAC-MAN CRAP THAN YOU CAN HANDLE

Shown: a rare Ms. Pac-Man addition to my collection, stolen from a Indianapolis Head Shop wall. Check out the ticket price, $12! This was before Feed The Animals changed the world.

(more…)

I’m pretty happy with how this turned out. The writer, author Scott Faingold, really nailed it. Check it out online, or pick it up anywhere around Springfield! Between this article, and the Western Magazine article by Sarah Zeeck last week, it’s clear that the best writing talent comes from the Midwest.

I’d like to take this time to remind you all that Members Save 10%. I’m really looking forward to this, and I’ve got some special things planned for all of us. As of now, there’s no after party planned…but I think that’d be kind of cool. Ideas?

Note: This is a long entry. Just man up and take the ride. There’s a contest at the very end to win a book called “What’s My Pee Telling Me?” from Chronicle Books and South Park Season 13 on Blu-Ray from Comedy Central.

First things first: My headline is probably misleading, because there are two definitions of “tryst.”

1. An agreement, as between lovers, to meet at a certain time and place.

2. A meeting or meeting place that has been agreed on.

Clearly, I would never intend to meet Gareb Shamus as a lover (though I totally might, have you seen him lately? We’ll get to that) But definition “#2″ deals with our agreed meeting place. Which, in this case, would be something called FaceBook.

Pretty straightforward questions, I think you’ll agree. Important ones, too. I don’t want to toot my own hose but I’m a reporter, you know.

But then something goes horribly wrong between Gareb and I. CLICK THROUGH to find out how Gareb responds to my sexual advances which I just couldn’t contain anymore.

(more…)

When the producer of Snakes on a Plane asks if you’re a god, you say YES.

It’s with the greatest of pants-tightening enthusiasm I can officially announce that, in addition to this site, I’ll be a regular poster at GEEK WEEK, which officially launched yesterday! I know, I know…you’re used to seeing me write for Fan Belt Quarterly and Fish Hook Enthusiast Digest, so it’s kind of a stretch for me.

I was approached several years ago by Mr. Jeff Katz—producer of Snakes On A Plane, X-Men Origins: Wolverine, and Shoot ‘Em Up—about a web venture he was working on, and after years of hard work, research and sweat that I had absolutely no part in, the Six Apart team (they designed the Huffington Post) have finally launched this beast. I’d like to think I have a pretty good bullshit detector (working for Wizard Magazine will help you fine tune that sixth sense), and Katz seems to be a guy who’s been on the level with me and knows how to spit game, knows what he wants and how to get it—as anyone who saw his San Diego ComicCon panel can attest.

I’m thrilled to be on board. I like this guy, I like his big ideas, I like his fire and vinegar, I like how he treats creators, and I like that he’s from the Midwest. He’s that perfect storm of Actual Geek and Daft Businessman that could pull this off. And he’s got a little bit of The Joker running through his veins, which is the kind of personality I tend to roll with. And, most of all, I like that my good friend/superb writer Gary Hodges is involved, as well as the only editor I’ve ever worked with who has his face printed on a goddamned thong.

Here’s a great article about Katz in Variety, as one of the 10 Producers to Watch.Personally, I thought Wolverine was a great movie right up until Wolverine stays in that barn, and the farmer forbids him from sticking his penis in any of the three holes. That’s not in the comic book (well, maybe one of Chris Claremont’s later titles).

And, say, here he is on Attack of the Show talking about his new comics brand:

Ok, so up until now it seems like I’m kissing a lot of ass. And while I’m not above that, I am sincere about what I’ve said thus far. So let’s play the Devil’s Advocate: there are tons of “Geek-Centric” websites out there. Maybe too many. Hell, MC Chris said it (I think)…geeks are kind of like the new jocks. And we’re constantly being marketed too, with words like niche-marketing and pre-awareness being bandied about, terms that raise everyone’s BS Terror Alert to “Reddish Orange.” And G4 is…well, G4 is what it is. True blue geeks still think of G4 as a corporate wolf in L33T speak clothing, with no real reason not to. We all know the score, dummies. Olivia Munn can only strut around in that White Queen get-up so many times: baby, I’m bored. My dick is not a rat, and you are not the pied piper. So what’s next?

In the words of Tom Atkins, “Thrill me.”

In the past year, I’ve seen that sites like Topless Robot , Panels on Pages and the Robot 6 blog (just to mention just a few) can be wonderful models to look up to. After years of working for publications that scream “THE 10 GEEK THINGS YOU GOTTA OWN!” and “BEST COMIC BOOK RACKS! WE TALKIN’ BOUT BOOBS!” (fool’s posturing, basically), these sites are down to earth, candid, transparent, respectful of their audience and—when they’re at their best—there’s some refreshing humility there.

And visitors of those sites know that smart writing and good company brings a smart, fun community along with it. While this post has been a hopeful, forward-looking rah-rah-rah for the industry so far, I’m not naive. I want to make some money doing this—doing what I love to do. It’s all I’m really qualified to do except drive women wild, and I’ve already kissed all the pretty girls.

So, I hope you’ll stop by and comment often, and let me know how I’m doing. A crowd draws a crowd, so please support me and I swear I’ll try to do better at leaving comments at my friend’s websites. I’ve been scattershot at that lately. We do this in a vacuum and any comments are good comments. That’s why I leave up all the hate comments—nothing gets me hawt like the occasional person yelling at me or telling me I suck. I feed off your energy, anonymous, ball-less flame poster. I love you. Let’s have a discussion. Thank you sir, may I have another.

Really: why so serious?

Oh yeah, and I’m occasionally going to use Geek Week posts here at this site. Hey, I’m not stupid. Why work harder? That said, I can now edit videos at my house instead of driving across town, so expect a lot more men in banana hammocks and Ghetto Jesus posts in the near future. Plus, I’m working on two secret projects you’re really, really going to enjoy…

Let’s have a good decade for a change. Happy New Year.

The comics world was abuzz (so abuzz, they were afraid to comment!) upon seeing Watchmen creator Alan Moore’s psychedelic rock band in action, as I first witnessed with terrified eyes over at Topless Robot. This is a big deal for two reasons. 1.) The snake worshipping Moore rarely plays his breed of Showbiz Pizza Place-inspired rock in public, and 2.) It’s the first time in years he’s played with long-time bandmate Kenny Fisher from the film Can’t Hardly Wait

Did someone order a Love Burger…WELL DONE?

After I watched the video, I realized this was all very familiar. I emailed a friend of mine, and—YES—he sent me the only existing footage of Alan Moore’s first performance with The Retro Spankees singing “You Cannot Fart Around With Love” from 1969. I knew we had this laying around! But the real point I’m getting at is this: I’m sick today and don’t feel like doing anything, and by watching this video you will then feel exactly like I feel.

See? I wasn’t joking. Do you feel like doing anything now but taking a good, long shit? Of course you don’t. This video is an audiovisual stool softener.

Shown: Iron & Wine robs the clearance aisle of Kay Jewelers.

And SPEAKING of demons, December 5th is Krampus Day, so be sure to terrify all the children in your life by filling their heads with stories of Santa’s sidekick, Gruff Vom Krampus, an impish, black-tongued Satan who beat children with reeds and rattles chains in their ears. Leave it to Germany. Why, Krampus even has his own, hilarious Twitter page this season! I wonder what person(s) are behind that?

Shown: Giddy Up, Krampus! How can you have any apples if you don’t eat your MEAT!