All, finally, is half-well as far as my Comic-Con plans are concerned. Comic-Con’s p.r. director graciously and generously approved my press credentials despite all kinds of problematic issues that stood in the way, not the least being that I applied quite late. I’m also in-like-Flynn with the Avatar presentation on Thursday, which is to say the 20th Century Fox people were also enormously helpful by providing a VIP pass that will save me from having to wait in line for two to three hours. I thanked them all before; I am doing so again. They restoreth my soul.
I’m in for three days — Wednesday night to Saturday morning.
No VIP pass from Sony for the District 9 thing on Friday because of my Peter Jackson issues — i.e., a mild form of corporal punishment. I’m told there’s a shot at snagging a VIP pass for the New Moon presentation. Maybe. And a certain Paramount publicist pally hasn’t yet responded about my interest in attending the Ironman 2 dog-and-pony show — we’ll see.
If any gaslamp-district roughnecks try anything…I was going to say I’ll drop them like a bad habit and put them on the pavement with my boot on their neck. The truth is that I’ll try and talk my way out of it like any journalist who doesn’t want to bruise his/her hands, and then get my revenge later by describing them in honest terms.