I confess, Alpha Trion, I was not steadfast in my worship. I will try my darndest to make amends by spreading the word.

Strange and wonderful things have recently occurred – a couple of major life-changing incidents entailing jarring transitions. Yes, this blag is still devoted to all things Transformers-y, but the frequency of posting may be erratic, or as non-existent as the two months preceding this entry. Hopefully not. The main reasons for the delay are as follows:

a) the shift to self-employment requiring craploads of consultation, half-baked (and half-assed) ideas, and a virtual minefield of risks resulting in weight loss and thinning hair, and

b) the arrival of Galvatron Marie, resulting in more weight loss, thinning hair, and sleep deficit. I almost forgot chronic on-the-cusp bankruptcy.

The most recent official toy purchase I made was several weeks ago;  the jonesin adding to my already fragile state of body and mind. The last soft mod I did was a few days after my last purchase of a *gasp* Bayformer. Larger-scale projects that were already put on hold are pushed even further back, thus the scattered combiner limbs on the dinner table and the upended bagful of knock-offs reigning over the sofa. Plans for a toy run have been set and reset, due to the need for diapers taking precedence over my current , belated lust for stuff from the Energon line. Ah, such is life.

Must focus, but the Astrotrain of thought is in constant threat of derailment from events still unforeseen. Hence the off-tangents.

Maybe I can kitbash this weekend, and get that tasty Korean Exillion, and some coffee outdoors. Maybe even enjoy some sunlight and fresh air. Must bounce, the real world calls.

Love,

prodigal

Postscript: I would like to thank my faithful readers, The Diplomat, for he constantly reminded me to return to this blag. I will try to keep you posted on things, even though we already show each other pretty pictures of plastic crack several times a day.

Sometimes all we need to do to recover is regroup, and we do so by losing ourselves in something so encompassing, so familiarly comfortable. Transformers provide us a way to do just that – to recapture what we were in earlier , less cynical times. Choose your gospel: Generation 1, Beast Era, Robots in Disguise, The Unicron Trilogy, Animated, the Movie-verse, and so on.

It’s virtual euphoria once you see an awaited figure or a holy grail on the shelf. You almost genuflect in front of the box. Reverently take it out of the packaging, the act of opening the packaging and unfurling the twist-ties a penance of sorts, before you finally hold the figure in your hands and release it into the world.

Transcend the fact that it’s just ABS, screws, paint, and pins – the whole is more than the sum of its parts. Aren’t combiners also called ‘gestalt’? Play. Lose yourself in the act of transforming a ‘toy’ from alt mode to robot and vice versa, hundreds of times over.

Now we see in the modern incarnations of our childhood what we used to see in the old toys. Now, more than twenty years have passed and the transformations themselves are more involved and intricate. The figures are movable sculptures, marvels of modern toy engineering, and en masse works of art. It’s almost hypnotic, trance-like, seeing what you used to see with different eyes – you’re hooked.

Buy two or three, a dozen at a time. When inspiration strikes, tinker. Transform it another way, add a lick of paint, or append parts from elsewhere. Make your toys better – from this stems satisfaction.

It’s an addiction, in not so many words, and one that could be as damaging as any other. It could also be therapy, your way, one way to deal with the commotion around you. Some won’t understand why, and will deride you for taking time to seek out ‘toys for kids,’ as if that’s denigration. Your kindred will, however, understand, and there are many of us out there. We believe that some robots are heroes, some are villains, and everything is in its place.

This blog is for those with the affliction.

Now, on to the good stuff…