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COLLECTIBLES, PART I
![[Trading Card]](/img/collectibles-tradingcard.jpg) |
Trading cards appeal nicely to the money-squandering obsessive-compulsive in all of us -- mine's named "Mr. Pinkerton" -- but once you've got them, they just
lie there, almost like pieces of colored cardboard. You can't even efficiently
display them for guests to admire while you're in the head. All you can do is put them in a binder, and nobody is interested in things you keep in a binder.
Seriously. Before you ever pull out a binder to show someone what's in it, ask
yourself, "Have I performed oral sex on this person in the last week? Do I want the opportunity to do so ever again?" Only if the answer to the first is "yes" and the second is "no" should you risk opening that binder.
D
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![[Bobble Head]](/img/collectibles-bobblehead.jpg) |
Bobbleheads are like hula girl figurines without the low-level fifties-era
titillation. Do I really want to see my heroes transformed into vacant
nodding zombies? If they're members of my army of slave drones, sure!
But bobbleheads lack the capacity to regrout my tub, and as such are unacceptable. Plus, some of the cheaper ones are too small to bobble! They're spring-loaded single-nod nothingheads! That sucks the joy from my life.
D-
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![[T-Shirt]](/img/collectibles-tshirt.jpg) |
T-shirts are among the best merchandising items. To begin with, when accompanied
by shoes they're fully compliant with restaurant service parameters. Also,
they show a certain commitment to one's idolatry, a willingness to risk
swirlies, pummelings, and the distain of snotty baristas to tell the world
that you enjoy the musical stylings of They Might Be Giants. In addition,
their natural aging process lets people know that you were into Blue Man
Group at least fifty wash cycles ago. Finally, they absorb spills.
Try that with a bobblehead.
A
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![[Pog]](/img/collectibles-pog.jpg) |
Have a little nineties flashback, scarecrow!
I actually had a temp job designing pogs in 1994. What kind? Why,
I believe they are now rotting landfill pogs, just like the rest. They
had a game associated with them, but based on my cursory attempt to play it
we're not talking something that gives punch bug a run
for its money. Even
dumber than pogs themselves were the pog accessories, the various slammers, pouches,
and humidity-controlled pog storage vaults that are even now filling the
sinus cavities of recently-deceased marketing executives in Satan's
back forty.
D-
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![[Plate]](/img/collectibles-plate.jpg) |
I like the idea of collectible plates, but then I like the idea of
eating chard off the faces of angels. The problems with collectible
plates are twofold. First, they're all rendered in this neo-classical
idealized form, the sort of thing you'd see if Michaelangelo had
been into dinnerware and Star Trek. Secondly, they never depict
anything I like. Where are my Samurai Jack and Alton Brown collectible
plates? Thirdly, they send off ultrasonic signals to cats saying "break meeeee...I turn into field mice when fraaaactured..."
C
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