We’re mobilizing back to base. Everything is packed up at B.L.A.R.D. The mobile transmitters, the latrines, the Medivacs. Nothing left to do but write this journal as we listen to the lonely whistle of a train down the way.

Was it a successful expedition? Yes, and no. A lot of shit happened. A lot of shit that shouldn’t have happened. There was triumph, and tragedy. Stupidity and lucidity.

Saturday night, at the swanky EW/Sci-Fi party that we’ll probably never get into again, we ran into our old pal Steven Zeitchik, who is a ninja reporter for The Hollywood Reporter now. He’s there to cover show biz, the subject of Comic-Con, not our own little pasteboards and mini-comics. He’s also covered Sundance and Cannes, the other legs of the show biz triathlon. We asked how it compared. He pointed out that those last for 10-15 DAYS. Not four. He mentioned that at those events, you have time to do nothing but sit and watch a movie. At Comic-Con, it’s go, go, go, go, and whatever you happen to be doing, you’re missing 19 other things.

There was a sense of acceptance at this show. Everyone knows it’s too big and too crowded and too frantic. Everyone just goes with their own little flow now.

I think comics did okay, despite it all. I think great cartoonists still had their time to shine, and our own viral marketing campaign has been way too successful for our own good. I have some actual thoughts on this topic, but they’ll have to await a good night’s sleep to be put into coherent form.

We’re still recovering from too much information and stimulation. A long plane ride is ahead of us. With any luck, we’re flying home as you read this.

We want to send shout outs to our good buddies and two awesome people Laurel Maury and Andy MacDonald. A shout out also to Future Mr. Beat, Ben McCool, who endured all the ups and downs that Comic-Con can deal. And big thanks to the PWCW crew, Calvin, Laura, Douglas, Kai-Ming, Jody, Ed, Erin and honorary member Noah. Big thanks to Ralphs for the tasty pumpkin pie which we ate as a nightcap every evening. Big ups also to Trish (always), her nephew Michael, Anina, Paul, Charles, Larry, Tanya, Richard, Ben, Lorelei, Chappie, Nisha, Ed Douglas, Frank 3, Frank 2.3, Nelson, Jimmy, Amanda, Jimmy A., Ivan, Kristyn…well, you know there are always too many people to name. Anyway, thanks to you all. Let’s do it all again next week!


  1. There was a sense of acceptance at this show. Everyone knows it’s too big and too crowded and too frantic. Everyone just goes with their own little flow now.

    This was a great little passage, Heidi. Of all the stuff I’ve seen about the Con over the years, this one made me feel for one moment like I knew something about what happens there.

    What do you mean by your own viral marketing campaign? Did I miss this? I thought I was a loyal Beatizen? Have I been skimming excessively? I also find that I don’t really know what you mean by B.L.A.R.D., so maybe I am just not paying attention well enough.

    Sit me in the back of the classroom.

  2. One suggestion, for the BLARD debriefing later in the week:

    Find someone not at the con, someone holed up in the BLARD secret bunker located beneath the Hall of Fame for Great Americans, who can monitor Google News and other websources for breaking news, interesting opinions, and better photos. Or activate your network of informants, set up a special email box accessible from your WiPhone, and scan nonchalantly while in the ladies room or in line at Ralph’s.

    The PW Crew did a great job of reporting! Almost as good as being there!

  3. I figured out BLARD. Go me.

    If the Con moved, would they closed San Diego? Isn’t that why they opened San Diego? If the Con closed, they’d have to get that cop from South Park to stand around and say, “Nothing to see here folks.”

    Or is he in The Simpsons?

  4. hey, i’m Jimmy A! thanks for the shout out, heidi. always great to see you and hang. my con report will be forthcoming as my laptop died and ive got our big 150TH episode recording tonight.

  5. That’s (left-to-right) Becky Cloonan, Vasilis Lolos, and Fábio Moon. At least I think that’s Fábio– his twin brother Gabriel Bá was sporting a beard, as I recall.

  6. Spurge—>too many drugs?

    ~chris—thanks. Recognized Becky’s face, but couldn’t put a name to her. Had no clue about the guys.

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