Note: As long as you avoid the song videos below, there really aren’t any Dawson’s Creek spoilers in the following.

Dawson’s Creek is my favorite television show. That’s no secret; it invariably comes up in less time than it takes to pee. My life is inextricably linked with my favorite residents of Capeside Mass. While Joey Potter spends her entire life trying to get out of Capeside, I’ve always paddled up the Creek, hoping to get marooned in an idyllic glittering small town filled with big problems and even bigger drama. Of course, if I saw Joey sailing in the other direction, I’d follow Joey and True Lovewherever it went. Because if you’ve watched the Creek, you know it’s almost laughable to think of it as anything other than Joey’s Creek.

My first exposure to Dawson I wouldn’t really associate with the show until years later, and that came in the form of Kevin Smith’s Jay & Silent Bob Strike Back. The film bowed in 2001, smack dab in the middle of the WB show’s prime, at the apex of the Joey/Dawson/Pacey love triangle. I was oblivious to the whole thing, but I remember loving this scene, because Jason Biggs is shit on and that’s one of the best things the world offers. A cocky Beek, an attitude that would prove foreign throughout all six seasons of the Kevin Williamson melodrama, rightfully asserts to the Pie Fucker: “You wouldn’t last a day on the Creek!”

I’ve lasted 10 years on Dawson’s Creek, a show that has changed my life.

I. 

She’s so beautiful that every time you look at her, your knees tremble, your heart melts and you know right then and there, without any reservation that there’s order and meaning to the universe. — Pacey

When I was fifteen years old and had my driver’s permit, I was driving my Dad and I to a Mariners game, where I was meeting my childhood best friend John Marsh and his father. I remember it was kind of a big deal, because I had never driven to Seattle before. I was excited, nervous, seemingly ready.

I never made it to that game. Hell, I didn’t make it three blocks from my house. I turned into an oncoming car, momentarily dazed by a blinking yellow stop light. It was one of those horrifying moments where your brain freezes; there was a glitch in the matrix, and even my Dad yelling “Nooooo!” like he was Hayden Christensen in Episode III didn’t fix it. When I finally snapped out of it, it was too late to escape. I managed to speed up and avoid a serious collision, but even so, the white car slammed into our family’s mini van.

I feverishly pulled over, shaking, and my Dad jumped out of the vehicle as nimble as I’ve ever seen him, and went to check on the other car. For a few moments, I considered the possibility that my egregious mistake had cost human lives. There’s not a worse feeling in the world, or at least I don’t want to contemplate one. I started sobbing, pausing when nearby homeowners checked in on me, having heard the noise. They assured me everything was okay, and that it likely wasn’t my fault, assuming incorrectly due to the damage to the rear end of the van.

After it was (thankfully) clear that nobody was hurt (just the cars), and insurance information was swapped, I was asked if I still wanted to go to the Mariners game. The ordeal felt like it had taken hours, but it probably spanned more or less than an episode of Friends, minus the laugh track. Did I still want to go to the ballgame? Despite a lifetime of the Mariners mostly sucking, this was the only time in my life when my answer was No. I called John, awkwardly, holding back tears and embarrassment, explaining our absence. While it wasn’t the last time I talked or hung out with John by any means (our relationship had been fractured well before this moment by his family’s move…only 10 minutes further way; it’s amazing how much a few miles meant when you were a kid), it struck me as a turning point, perhaps because I’m dramatic, and it’s natural to demarcate time based on “tragedy.”

I had had a remarkably lucky and fortunate childhood. I was a tad lonely and shy, not yet coming into my own, but other than my well-publicized failings (only broadcast in my head), nothing bad had ever happened to me. This car accident, no matter how minor, was that thing, as silly as that sounds. I already had a fragile ego and a small reserve of self-esteem, and this didn’t help matters.

Weeks later, after I had passed my driver’s test and had my official license, the DMV sent me a letter revoking it, having just heard about my “Failure to Yield” violation stemming from the accident. I had to wait another six months to get my license, dooming me to another semester on the bus at an age where that spelled social suicide.

While I initially blamed the incident on the confusing light and our recent move to a new house (a move I had been staunchly against), it wasn’t hard to see I was lying to myself. Because I am my own harshest critic (and continue to be), I decided to punish myself. The accident happened right before summer, giving me a wealth of time to do exactly that. My asinine idea? I planned to torture myself by walking and running on the treadmill (the family’s new and “exciting” purchase) every day, while forcing myself to watch what I thought was terrible TV. Enter…

Forget for a moment how prophetic my choice became; it’s pretty telling that my “punishment” was TV of any kind. I wasn’t that hard on myself after all, even if I thought I was subjecting myself to shit. I thought Dawson’s Creek fit the bill, and thanks to TBS airing what I saw as a simpering, sophomoric, trashy soap opera from 10 AM-12 PM everyday, I had a lot of ammo.

It wasn’t very long until I gave up the treadmill and retreated to my room to watch recorded Creek episodes on what became a well-worn VHS tape. If my parents ever got their hands on it, they’d have assumed I was watching the basic cable version of porn: The Man Show, The Howard Stern Show or MTV’s Undressed. That certainly happened, but I stretched this single VHS tape’s capacity to live, recording two episodes daily for several months, luckily discovering Dawson, Joey, Jen and Pacey early in their journey in discovering themselves (I was trying to do the same). I oddly felt ashamed by my growing love of the show, always pausing it when my parents came in, as if I really was watching porn.

While the pilot hooked me hopelessly (I loved the idea of these hyper-literate, smart ass high schoolers who peppered their dialogue with movie references), there are two episodes that stand out to me in the first season: “Detention,” a brilliant reconstruction of Breakfast Club, one of many episodes in the canon directly inspired by a classic movie. The other is “Beauty Contest,” where Dawson finally opens his eyes and realizes that Joey is a Goddess.

It’s also when Pacey cemented himself as Pacey; despite the overwhelming possibility that he’d end up as the town laughing stock (one of Pacey’s biggest fears), he SIGNS UP for an all-woman pageant, and then defies judgment and persecution with a wonderful speech culled from Braveheart. Along the way, he manages to make a rich bitch who loathes him want him by the end of the episode. Classic Pacey.

That Creek summer, which must’ve been 2004, came when I needed it most. It introduced me to Pacey Witter, who became something of my own personal compass. In the pilot episode, with a fresh black eye and a bruised ego (but not that bruised), Pacey notified Mrs. Jacobs (his English teacher!) defiantly and assuredly: “I’m the best sex you’ll never have,” becoming everyone’s hero. Pacey was a perpetual underdog, he was Dawson’s best friend, the sidekick, but He.Was.Better. He was a lover of women, passionate, independent, he spoke what was on his mind, he slept with his teacher, he had honor, a sense of humor, he even FROSTED HIS TIPS, he fulfilled his promises to others and perhaps more importantly, to himself. He was a cook, a businessman, a sailor, a pool shark, Braveheart. He was fearless, and blessed with a gigantic beating heart, much like the one that consistently operated out of the writer’s room.

Pacey had his faults: he had crippling self-doubt, he slept with his teacher, he had a miserable family life and no confidence in himself. He thought he was the town joke, certain that he was never going to leave Capeside, doomed to the existence of a sad townie (“You know, this town is the absolute embodiment of dull. Apart from the occasional sex scandal provided by yours truly, nothing happens here.”).

Instead, against all odds (or so the WB would have you believe), he graduated high school and sailed the world.

This was a guy who knew how to live. This was who I wanted to be.

On the other end of the spectrum was Dawson Leery, the show’s main character, and arguably, its worst. The guy’s self-centered and self-absorbed even by today’s increasing standards. He’s a whiner, a pouter, a man perpetually stuck in his Peter Pan phase, one that his idol Steven Spielberg eventually grew out of, and something that would take the entire show for Dawson to truly evolve from. Dawson doesn’t get the girl; he talks about the girl ad nausea, or ruins it, or is blind to the most beautiful, smart, funny precious girl on the planet (see Potter, Josephine). Dawson is encapsulated in an unfortunate, but no less brilliant gif, an all-timer:

But Dawson had his share of positive qualities. He was a dreamer (a Day Dream Believer?), almost relentlessly optimistic, to the point of vomit. He somehow pulled off sweater vests with white t-shirts on underneath. He was ambitious, he wanted a career in film; he wanted to be the next Steven Spielberg, and was making his own films in high school (and not just shlocky horror stuff; he made a documentary about the indomitable A.I. Brooks, a crotchety filmmaker in the Dawsonverse). He was smart, loyal, and he eventually learned to be a good friend rather than one who had to be the center of attention.

I was closer on the Dawson side of the Dawson-Pacey continuum, a disgruntled fact I couldn’t argue with, but didn’t want to admit. Now, I recognize that both have qualities that I share, and the ideal version is a combination of the two; imagine what their man-child would look like (he/she could save mankind). But at the time, I saw Dawson’s perpetual virginity as a trap I couldn’t escape from.

When applying for colleges, I was gratefully encouraged to try for as many as possible, as far or as close as I wanted. The list included my parents’ alma mater University of THE Pacific, as well as University of Washington, Syracuse University, Ithaca College, Florida State University, NYU and USC. The latter two I was wait-listed for and didn’t get in, likely because I spent too much time on comic-centric message boards of my own design and recreating whole seasons of Seattle Mariners baseball in my front lawn (I even kept stats!). I visited UOP, UW and flew to New York for the first time with my Mom, checking out Syracuse University and Ithaca College.

On the day of the deadline, I had signed my acceptance form to the University of Washington. I would be rooming with my best friend from high school, and going to school with 50 odd people from my high school class, living in a dorm fifteen to thirty minutes away from home, depending on traffic.

Then, in a moment of rare clarity, I ripped the letter up. I decided to go to Ithaca College in upstate NY. Because of my late response, I’d be living in a temporary dorm with four other random (but similarly indecisive) people, and the closest thing I had to another fellow Warrior going to school with me was a quiet Asian girl who lived up to stereotypes and went to Cornell. I never once saw her, not even at Wegman’s.

The decision quite obviously changed my life, and there’s no doubt in my mind it was the right one out of the two finalists (I question the validity of choosing Ithaca over Syracuse if only to have had sports teams to cheer for, but it had gone down to Ithaca or UW). It’d be simplifying the event, with a layer of myth making, if I said that I went to a college in the middle of nowhere across the country because that’s what Pacey would have done, and it probably isn’t even true. Pacey would’ve traveled, something I eventually emulated after college in the form of a three month long backpacking sojourn that was the best decision I’ve made alongside going to IC. But even so, this decision started a pattern in my life of doing what I wanted to do, not what was expected of me, and finding my own path. To be bold, to try new things, a constant struggle because in my heart I’m a gigantic pussy who only wants to watch TV all day. Every day, I’m trying to be more like Pacey, which is akin to a societal version of Sisyphus, but an impossibility I strive for nonetheless.

II.

But… how could it be over? We can’t just say “I love you” for the first time and have it be over. — Dawson

It wasn’t over. Far from it.

The second time I watched Dawson’s Creek was during freshman year of college. It was early in my first semester, and I was taking a piss, or brushing my teeth, or doing whatever it is I did in the bathroom, when all of a sudden I heard the greatest theme song of all-time blaring from a dorm room. Because (surprise!), I’m a man, I was on the men’s side of the dorms, so the aural pleasures of Paula Cole, while welcome, was a startling development.

This was on my door Junior Year. I stole it from the quad.

I followed the noise, and came to an open door, where, sure enough, Dawson’s Creek was playing on a rounded TV that was fashionable when the WB was. There, sitting hunched on his bed, and likely in flip-flops, was Nolan. I believe I uttered in disbelief, “Is this Dawson’s Creek?” He nodded: “You want a beer?” Nolan handed me a Keystone Light, another college love, and after that sacred ritual, we were friends. Through that chance meeting, we bonded, and because he had already befriended that side of the dorm (I was slightly exiled from door-to-door buffoonery living in the temporary lounge), met the rest of the wonderful idiots who lived on my floor.

By the end of the school year on any random weeknight, almost every dude on Clarke 2 (plus 1-2 lesbians!) could be seen watching Dawson’s Creek, drinking Keystone, with at least a few of us crying silent tears, with no judgment from any of the others.

The fellas at Clarke 2 became the best friends I would have at college, the ones that will be forever linked with my best and worst memories through all four years. The guys I lived with throughout my college career and the ones I’ll foolishly spend the next twenty years attempting to relive the glory with at increasingly awkward weddings and reunions. And while I probably would’ve met them eventually, it was Dawson’s Creek that introduced me to them.

Toward the end of Creek (season 6, episode 15, to be exact), I remembered an episode in which Joey shaves Pacey’s beard fairly vividly. At the time, I was rocking a very similar beard (I’ve taken a picture of Joshua Jackson to a barber before), and announced that after an upcoming episode I’d be shaving it off. It was all blustery pomp and circumstance, but it caught everyone’s attention. I was the only one who had seen the show (but not all of it; VHS tapes and my memory in recording the episodes were equally unreliable), so in many ways, I was the host, their guide through Capeside.

Then the scene happened:

[http://youtu.be/atvGORI9I6Q?t=4m54s]

Afterwards, I shaved. And so did everyone else, inspired by the awesomeness of that moment and a few too many beers.

While everyone loved the show to a varying degree, it was on a different level for Nolan and I. We still mark occasions with videos, songs or quotes from the Creek, and that isn’t changing any time soon. We’ll always have the Creek.

Before I continue, I just need to note the sheer number of future stars that appeared on this program (if you like to be surprised by cameos and guest stars, skip to the next paragraph). It’s insane. Jensen Ackles, Ken Marino, Scott Foley, Bianca Lawson, Jason Behr, Eion Bailey, Ali Larter, Jennifer Morrison, Virginia Madson, Eric Balfour, Jane Lynch, Ian Bohen, Christian Kane, Oliver Hudson, Monica Keena, Sasha Alexander, Taylor Handley, Seth Rogen, Melissa McBride, Sarah Lancaster, Melissa Ponzio, Julie Bowen, Sarah Shahi and Michael Pitt. It had Jonathan Lipnicki in it, for Chrissakes. The show became a proving ground for other WB shows, with its tendrils ever apparent in shows like Teen Wolf, The Walking Dead and Once Upon A Time.

III. 

Why am I doing this? Because once upon a time, we were best friends. And, yes, there’s been a lot of bad stuff in between. But none of that matters right now, okay? You need me, I’m there. Any time, any place, anywhere. — Pacey

The third time I watched Dawson’s Creek came in 2012, two years after I graduated college and a couple months after returning from my backpacking trip in Europe. I had little to no money left, but I had made up my mind somewhere along the way that when I’d get back, the first thing I’d do was buy the Dawson’s Creek boxed set. It just seemed like something I had to have, and besides, I had a friend who needed to watch it.

When I arrived back home, I had decided that I would live in Seattle for one year before finally moving to LA. I’d grown up in the city’s shadow all my life, and had even sublet a place in the University District for a month, but I had never really explored Seattle as an “adult.” I wanted to do that, as a hello and a goodbye to the city I had grown to love. A big part of that was living with Ryan, my best friend. We had lived together for one month at the aforementioned house in U-District, but both of us wanted something more permanent. We wanted a place of our own, where we could host parties and have friends over, and so we could watch Dawson’s Creek.

Ryan and I had bonded during breaks from college over Friday Night Lights, so I knew he had the sensibility and heart to truly appreciate Dawson and company, and I wanted to inhabit the role of guide once again, to jump back into a world I had been without for almost 6 years, but had never truly left me. After all, the myriad tributaries of the Creek are permanently flowing in my bloodstream.

Our first act as roommates was to establish Meatloaf Monday’s full-time, an institution that had its origins in U-District, but took on added significance and substance when we had our own place in Fremont. The night was my favorite of the week, and was oftentimes crazier than our Friday’s and Saturday’s. It was a night given to excess, a turn-back-the-clock to college night, when my friend Alex and I would hatch up unique recipes, put the loaves together, cook them, and then eat the majestic meaty molds with an eclectic and diverse group of friends every week. After we ate, things inevitably devolved into a variety of drinking games, dance parties and dessert (cookie butter and/or more meatloaf). Every night ended with a screening of an episode or three of Dawson’s Creek, complete with a drinking game we created expressly for that purpose. That wasn’t all: we had a scoreboard that kept track of the number of kisses and sexual encounters by each character, while scribbling down our favorite quotes on a busy white poster board.

It soon became clear that Ryan had a different take on Creek. He was no less involved as I, but he was Team Dawson all the way, a notion I believed to be incredulous/impossible. I’ve since met other people who shared the same viewpoint, but this difference of opinion characterized the growing schism that threatened to tear our friendship apart. We’d argue vehemently about the characters, about who deserved Joey, which was a deadly mix when copious amounts of alcohol was involved. We were vicious, personal; I’m defensive and take these things far too seriously to begin with, but it wasn’t really about Pacey and Dawson (okay, everything is about Pacey and Dawson).

We were going in different directions, and it put a strain on our relationship. I was biding time until LA, when I was going to leave Ryan and the rest of the Wolf Boyz behind, a notion as painful to me as it was to them. In the meantime, I started dating someone and my priorities shifted, not wanting to go out as much and growing tired of the rave/drug/party scene that Ryan was embroiled in. In the end, I tried to find a bullshit middle ground, which successfully pissed Ryan off, my girlfriend off, and me off, leaving me resentful, “misunderstood” and soon, single. I handled things spectacularly poorly; I was terrified of moving away, but I was also anxious and impatient to just get going with my life and the prospect of another weekend getting drunk at the same places for no reason became a gloomier and gloomier proposition. All that stress and uncertainty came lashing out, with Dawson’s Creek oftentimes as the symbolic battleground. Luckily, Ryan and I reached a mutual understanding. We talked it out, recognizing the shaky ground we were on, and I think our relationship would’ve been stronger for it, had I not moved away, becoming the John Marsh in this scenario.

IV.

Andie: You mean that you guys would rather watch a movie about something than actually doing it yourselves?
Joey, Dawson: Correct.

After we finished Dawson’s Creek, Ryan, Bryan and I devised a list of ten prospective pilots to watch, rate and through an aggregate score, decide on as our next Meatloaf Monday binge show. Beating out the likes of X-Files, Vampire Diaries and Beverly Hills 90210 was a little show called Buffy the Vampire Slayer that would also change my life, but that’s a story for another time.

Like the show itself, my association with Dawson’s Creek wasn’t always a good thing. I could’ve done without Audrey’s descent to madness, or Jack’s freefall into Frat life, or Chad Michael Murray, Jack Osbourne or most of the college years. But I also would benefit from not expecting life to be like Dawson’s Creek. I find myself enmeshed in the same dilemma that Dawson continually faced over six seasons. Life isn’t a movie or a TV show (I know, WHAT?!), but I’m that stereotypical guy who wishes it was, even though the reality of that would likely be a horrible thing. That Dawson-y part of me won’t go away. I can’t help it; I want storybook romances, I want massive declarations of love, I want life to matter, to mean something, if just a fraction of how much it means to the folks living on the Creek. I oftentimes view life as a never-ending blog post, that everything I do in a given day is something to write about, to disseminate out to strangers, that people will give a shit about my random ramblings (case in point). Dawson’s Creek is a show lauded and reviled because it’s a show with characters that talk about sex, but don’t have it. Sometimes living in hopes of writing about it, subtracts from the living part. No more.

As Paula Cole said, I don’t wanna wait, for our lives to be over.

Joey: You never look back, do you?
Pacey: Why would you look back? The future’s out there. And whatever it is, it’s gonna be great.

San Diego Comic-Con is at a tipping point.

This was my second year at Comic-Con, so I’m by no means an expert, but I don’t think anyone would argue with me when I say that SDCC has become bloated, unwieldy, daunting and to be honest, kind of miserable, at times. It’s exhausting, insane and becoming less worth it by the year. There’s enough programming, panels and events to fit over a whole month: if that happened, the result would be much like The Hunger Games. But instead, it’s all squeezed from Wednesday night to Sunday night.

This year, there were innumerable moments when I wished I was in bed and wondering why I was operating on 2 hours sleep to hear god awful fan questions (“Can I hear your Bones laugh, Emily?” THERE ARE 189 EPISODES OF BONES TO REFER TO, WOMAN), and this time I didn’t have to set up or break down a booth and work for months before the event to prepare. It was just me, and what I wanted to do. That should be enough, except it’s impossible to do exactly what you want to do at Comic-Con.

It certainly feels like Comic-Con could very well collapse in on itself, that we’re fast approaching a Ragnarokian implosion, something that might be necessary to bring the event under control. Hollywood loves a good reboot, right?

Comic-Con bills itself as for the fans, but I think that’s a naive way of looking at it. Comic-Con is a massive money-making scheme; it’s not for the fans. It’s for the studios that are using Comic-Con and us to do the marketing and word of mouth for them, taking advantage of our passion and love for these characters. Comic-Con can make or break movies. We are killing ourselves waiting in line to watch trailers a few months before we can pay 17 dollars to see them in theaters, or watch them online for free. It’s pretty silly, yet we keep doing it year after year, and feel like we got a show.

Comic-Con has become a place where Playboy has a Bates Motel-themed party. You can’t get in unless you’re somebody, and San Diego’s Gas Lamp quarter is filled with these parties with exclusive guest lists, open bars and/or covers throughout the week. Unless you’re high ranking press or a celebrity, or you’re lucky enough to win a contest, you’re not cool enough to get in, exactly the kind of thing you’d think Comic-Con shouldn’t be about.

Bless Zachary Levi and NerdHQ, who hosted a free-for-all dance party on Thursday night, and hold panels with the benefits going to a good cause. Felicia Day’s Geek & Sundry turned Jolt ‘n Joes into a lounge and party through Wednesday and Friday, open to anybody. These are the kinds of events that Comic-Con should be about, and the equivalent of Slamdance to Comic-Con’s Sundance. Every year, more and more people flock to NerdHQ instead of the Convention Center, to the point where their panels featuring Nathan Fillion, Stephen Amell and Tatiana Maslany sell out in minutes (so maybe it’s not that accessible, but at least your money goes to Operation Smile rather than 20th Century FOX). This is the future of Comic-Con.

If you asked A., who came all the way from Moscow, her face would light up, as she promised to come back to San Diego again as soon as she could afford it. She got to meet Jamie Bamber of Battlestar Galactica, happy to pay his signing fee (even knowing it was irresponsible), and raved nonstop about John Barrowman’s hilarious panel. She also got to walk in to Hall H to see the hunks of Supernatural on Sunday, when many of us were too tired to give a fuck.

Al. flew all the way from Kitchener, Canada, and spent Friday night in line just to see The Hobbit panel, and left before Marvel and the rest of the fanfare. She came with her Mom and sister, who were happy to sleep in the hotel. I got the sense that she was drawn to San Diego for the experience, and wanted to live it, rather than needing to be in Hall H, or obsessed with the shows and movies many of us spent hours talking about while we waited.

D. has been going to Comic-Con for 8 years straight, ever since she moved to San Diego. She lives and breathes it, and coordinates line waiting with her friends, and was in Hall H every night save Thursday, when she only got in line at 5 AM before the 10 AM panels.

If there’s one upside to the lines, its making friends with who you’re stuck with. You meet people from all over the world, people who share many of the same interests as you, and will also pound mercilessly at you for the shows and movies you haven’t seen (do I really have to watch The 100?). Everyone’s different, but we’re all the same, wondering incessantly if we’re going to get into Ballroom 20 or Hall H, and debating how many in the cast will show up for the panel. Many complained, but still others accepted their fate, and were happy to camp outside.

Everyone is going to have a different experience and that is part of the beauty that remains of Comic-Con. Some people camped out to get into Hall H all four nights, and will do the same until they have crippling back injuries, and that’s worth it to them (many I think do it out of imaginary obligation, wanting to prove how much they care about a movie or show or movie star; the longer you wait in line, the bigger Walking Dead fan you are). Some actually go to San Diego to see their favorite comic book writers and artists. Whoa. Many just like to dress up, as Cosplay is an industry and sub-society on its own (and it’s wonderful). Others just want to take in the spectacle, to be where the party’s at. I wonder how many even get in; there were these two elderly women who somehow got seats in Hall H on Saturday, and looked blankly at me when I told them Marvel was up next (“What’s that?”). Seriously?

I love catching the various pilots, months before they come out, discovering the next hit shows before everyone else. The 12 year old who still resides in me who discovered Kevin Smith movies was delighted to see the man himself rejuvenated creatively, and talking excitedly about his next trilogy of movies. I got goosebumps and teary eyed watching and singing along to Buffy the Vampire Slayer‘s “Once More With Feeling” in a jam-packed room of Whedon worshipers, as Nicholas Brendon ran up to the stage to sing Xander’s songs with the rest of us, something he’s done for the past four years. That is the power and magic of Comic-Con, that still lives and breathes in corners of the Convention Center. You just have to know where to look for it.

Look, I love this stuff. I check EW, io9, Deadline, Variety, et all, ALL DAY, to the detriment of everything else I should be doing. I love following pop culture news, whether it’s casting, sequels, new films, what brand of shoes Oliver Queen will be wearing. But sometimes, enough is enough, and the negative outweighs the positive, and I think that’s what has transpired with Comic-Con.

I love the Marvel Cinematic Universe, but it’s emphasis on the overarching story, and the end credit sequences, and WHAT COMES NEXT, while addictive and something I’m so hard for, puts the onus on release dates, future events, with the story and content in the actual movies almost an after thought, the entree when we prefer the appetizers, dessert and Easter eggs. To be clear, Captain America: The Winter Soldier is the best film in the entire MCU (or right up there with Iron Man and Avengers), and it’s the most recent, but once we’ve seen the end credits, our discussion inevitably leads to what’s coming next, rather than what we just saw. That is Comic-Con in a nutshell; it feels like we’re James Woods perpetually scurrying after another piece of candy.

We’re paying tons of money for advertising. We’re waiting in line to see cast and crew promise vague greatness (“No show is like _____,” “Anything can happen on ______,” “Nobody is safe on ______”) or worse, pat their backs for a season well done (“Oh my god, can we talk about _____?”). We’re dooming our legs to a perpetual state of falling asleep so we can hear everyone toe the line when it comes to spoilers or providing any sort of useful information. “You know as much as I do [nothing],” “That’s up to the writers/producers/conglomerates to share,” “I can’t answer that, can I?” or “You’ll have to tune in to find out.” or “Insert masturbatory phrasing here.” The whole thing is decidedly masturbatory.

There’s the bizarre “we just started shooting/haven’t started shooting yet so we don’t really have any footage” dance that is played at EVERY panel, which is followed by groans and cries of protest, like we actually believe them, every time, until Zack Snyder/whomever relents, smiles/winks and says…”BUT here’s a little something.” Then we freak out, clap and are ready for what’s next, rinse, repeat.

The exhibit hall is a paradise, but that paradise has become overrun, like a Heaven with no standards, as you jostle through crowds to buy overpriced Comic-Con exclusives and things you don’t need, while hoping you don’t piss off Lou Ferrigno. It’s nerd Christmas, if everyone was trying to get their hands on the Turbo Man doll. You can meet Evangeline Lily, but you’ll have to sacrifice the entire day to do it.

George Miller and the Mad Max series is great (and Fury Road looks AWESOME), but his arrival into Hall H, and the reboot of Mad Max was marketed and promoted as something that we owed him for, that we needed to worship this legendary man making his first Comic-Con appearance. Even The Hobbit panel, which rightfully celebrated Peter Jackson and company’s extraordinary achievements with LOTR and The Hobbit trilogy, reeked of self-congratulation.

To get into Hall H on Saturday so I could see George Miller, Peter Jackson and the WB, Legendary and Marvel’s panels, I had to get in line at 9:15 PM the night before. And I barely got in, limping into the auditorium five minutes before the first panel, so I can watch these actors on the big screen (I have a better view of baseball players from the Upper Deck than the actors on the stage, oftentimes), no different than if I was watching the panels in the Playback room later on in the day.

It’s impossible to live up to the hype, to be worth the wait. Forget even the 13 hour over night wait. Many of us have been waiting all year for this, setting up impossible expectations. What do we even want to see? My imagination runs rampant for the entire month preceding it, dreaming up wild scenarios where a CGI’d James Spader struts onstage as Ultron, and if not Benedict Cumberbatch or Joaquin Phoenix as Dr. Strange, that I walk up in the red cloak, announced as the new Sorcerer Supreme. Short of Black Panther, Doctor Strange and Ms. Marvel green-lit, with the stars announced and in person/costume, a small part of me was going to be disappointed by whatever Marvel does, and they consistently put on the best show of all. I was astounded by the awesome Avengers: Age of Ultron footage we did see, and loved seeing the cast of Avengers together on stage, as excited as we all were. It truly is a treasure to see your favorite actors in person, to see how funny, charming, cute, nervous and real they are, to see the other side of a character you consider family and friend. But aside from a Guardians of the Galaxy 2 announcement that hardly felt surprising, the whole proceedings were short on news.

Plus, almost all of the sneak peaks, trailers, gag reels and previews are online as soon as we see it. There’s something to be said for seeing it first in an unparalleled atmosphere, with the stars present, surrounded by people who love and cherish these things as much as you do, but I couldn’t help but feel miffed that I could’ve watched everything save the Avengers footage from the comfort of my bedroom. And even the latter could be seen if I wanted to support the scumbags who record grainy footage on their phone/camera and post it on YouTube. I realize I sound like a cranky old man, especially to those who have never been to Comic-Con, but sometimes the fiction is better than the reality.

But I’m a sucker, and if I’m lucky enough to get press access again next year, I’ll be doing this stressful dance again, because I still feel like I’ll be missing something if I don’t. But will I? Even so, I’m going to do it a lot differently. I think I can say goodbye to Hall H, and follow along on Twitter and YouTube like the rest of the world, while getting to see some of the smaller movies and TV shows before they get into Hall H, like Sleepy Hollow, Orphan Black, Intruders, Vikings and Outlander the past couple of years. Or maybe I’ll even go to some comic book panels. What a radical idea.

It’s Saturday. Hall H. I made it. Don’t want to talk about the ordeal.

Chris Hardwick is moderating, as Marty McFly. Yeah, that’s a great omen.

We startin’ with Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice. Shiiit. We get a brief intro with some gritty concept art.

Zack Snyder comes to the stage. Shooting now…have “teeny little thing” to show us. Gross.

What do we get? We get a bulked up, beefy Batman, with LED eye balls, very DKR style, turning on the bat signal on top of the rainy Gotham city. Then we see the Bat signal up into the rainy, dark Gotham skyline, with Superman staring back at him, his eyes glowing red. He’s pissed.

Then Ben Affleck, Henry Cavill and Gal Gadot come out, wave, look badass. Then we see the clip again, and the stars and Snyder disappear.

Oh also, they revealed Gal Gadot as Wonder Woman, which I somehow missed at the time:

Next up…JUPITER ASCENDING

Channing Tatum to the stage to talk about Jupiter Ascending. Tatum will walk on the floor in a mask, says he’ll be Chewbacca. Hardwick suggested he take his clothes off and do Magic Mike cosplay.

Then we get an extended batshit crazy trailer, with a TON going on. So many ships, aliens, so much action. The dreadnought-y ship in particular looks incredible. Channing mentions how wacky the Watchowski brothers are and what weird things they did, and it’s clear everything is happening in this movie, for better or for worse. I’ll say I’m more excited to see it now than I was before, but that’s probably the collective euphoria of us all being here.

MAD MAX!

Charlize Theron is shooting in South Africa, but does an apology video intro, talking about how she won the lottery to work with George Miller and work on this movie. Then we get a Mad Max revue of the old trilogy, trumpeting George Miller, and telling us to welcome the director to the stage.

We do get to see a quick nugget of Fury Road, with tons of vehicles, drums, and massive rocks in the way of a very large, sandy procession. Looks sweet.

It came off fairly arrogant, but he can do that, and he melts us when he admits this is his first comic-con, and Chris Hardwick photographs him in front of us all to show to his family.

Fury Road didn’t have a script, it had 3,500 storyboards, much like a comic book. Not a lot of dialogue in the movie; they only speak when they have to. That’s pretty awesome.

Takes place 45 years in the future; like Westerns, very “spare.” Miller loves wrecking cars.

There’s a Mel Gibson joke about how he literally turned into Mad Max.

George Miller revisited Mad Max because he couldn’t get the story out of his head. Also helped for Tom Hardy to come along.

Compares Tom Hardy to a big wild animal: don’t know what he’s doing next.

How has George Miller’s life experience since the last movies informed the new movie? Miller almost doesn’t remember how he made the first movies, working off instinct and gut.

FOOTAGE: We get a very long trailer that displays a beautiful, visually arresting film. Endless number of vehicles, car crashes, Tom Hardy in a mask (as usual), Charlize with black makeup on half her face and perhaps a prosthetic arm, Nicholas Hoult being crazy, a white-haired big teethed villain who looks terrifying. There’s a behemoth of a tornado. Tons of sand. Looks great.

HERE IT IS:

Apparently this is the movie that looks as close to what he imagined in his head.

The film is a chase, and closest to Mad Max 2: Road Warrior in style and content.

Fury Road comes out in May 2015, and looks worth the 30 year wait.

Immortan Joe is played by Hugh Keays-Byrne, who was Toecutter in the original films.

Hardwick cedes the stage to something cooler than he is. Hall H is the highlight of his year, and will be back. Farewell Chris!

Hobbit: Battle of Five Armies is up next. We get a clip of all of the movies, and finish with Stephen Colbert in Laketown garb, as one of the Bard’s many spies in the city.

AND…Stephen Colbert is moderating the panel, in his LOTR costume. It’s clear he’s a massive geek for the books and Middle-Earth, and remarks that he wishes he could show video of this to his thirteen year old self.

Colbert unleashes a wonderful soliloquy about Peter Jackson and the first set of movies and how it surpassed all expectations. His only complaint was that the movies were too short.

Clip time. And it’s an incredible never before seen set of blooper reel, with Star Wars references, Colbert’s cut scene in the film, a Ian McKellan/Gandalf strip tease and dance with some white tighties that is probably the best thing the world has ever seen. We see a lot of Ian flubbing lines, Martin Freeman having trouble with keys. It’s hilarious.

While no Martin Freeman or Ian McKellan, pretty much everyone else is here: Lee Pace, PJ, Philippa Boyens, Evangeline Lily, Luke Evans, Elijah Wood, Benedict Cumberbatch, Orlando Bloom and Cate Blanchett. Oh and Andy Serkis.

Peter Jackson is still working on the movie.

Many have never met, because scenes were separate.

Originally pitched LOTR as two movies: The Hobbit as one, and LOTR has another. Ha.

Colbert points out that Jackson owes them six more movies, becaue he stretched Hobbit to three.

Colbert to Wood: Why don’t you age? Elijah was 18 when he made Fellowship, and as Colbert asserts, is still 18.

Jackson comments that probably everyone in the room knows the ending of Hobbit. Happy to kill off some characters. Films are progressively dark.

What do they wish they could’ve included? Old Forest and Tom Bombadil. Didn’t have casting ideas, but apparently Cate Blanchett was always on their wish list for Galadriel, which is a less cool nugget.

Oh, Graham McTavis/Dwalin is here too. He argues the whole journey is about finding a female dwarf. Feels outnumbered by elven compatriots on the panel. Graham is 6’3”. Some dwarf.

Luke knew how to shoot a bow before he got the role, but got intense when he arrived on set.

Apparently Cate played Bard the Bowman in a high school production of The Hobbit. PJ promises Galadriel loses it in the next one, and gets to kick Sauron’s ass.

Stephen Colbert and Philippa Boyens did a trivia duel, and Colbert won. Colbert’s wife told Philippa afterward that it was the best day of his life. Colbert unleashes the Goldberry poem and is slaying.

When Colbert, wife and two kids went to New Zealand, felt like he should never leave.

Dominic Monaghan, Elijah and Orlando had e-mail chain a couple days ago discussing getting New Zealand residency.

Elijah Wood has still never read the books. Colbert asks if he knows how to read. He did read The Hobbit as a kid.

When Evangeline Lily read the books as a kid, she was in love with the story and loves Tolkien. She stopped Return of the King 25 pages shy because she never wanted the story to end, and she still hasn’t read those pages. Kinda awesome. Colbert: You’ve never looked more attractive. Totally.

Serkis thought he was going to go back to normal acting after 2003, and then Jackson asked him to play King Kong. Changed everything. Colbert calls Serkis the Lon Chaney of the digital age, which is a fantastic reference/good call.

Then we get the world premiere of the teaser trailer, and it’s wonderful. Has a great song (Enya?), some Galadriel/Gandalf lovin’, Smaug destruction, the armies coming together. It’s now released:

Apparently Cate didn’t wear underwear, because that’s the elf thing to do.

Hoping to do a LOTR museum some day, been holding onto the stuff/costumes. Um, cool. Jackson has many of the sets in warehouses, like Misty Mountains, Minas Tirith, etc. Wants people to see them some day.

Lily: I know how sexy a big, pointy ear can be.

Fan question time, which means Button Lady asks Benedict to say Button Lady in his Smaug voice. He rules, but still, ask better things.

There’s an awful question about where they would go in Comic-Con as they’re characters. Andy Serkis saves it because he answers it in character, debating between Smeagol and Gollum, revealing that he wants to go back stage with Stephen Colbert and figure out what’s in his cloak. It’s bliss.

Truly dumb questions right now.

Apparently there are a few scenes that have STILL not been seen on the Extended Edition LOTR movies.

FAN CONTEST: Get trip to New Zealand to see Middle-Earth, the movie before everyone else with Peter Jackson. Um, sign up: TheHobbitFanContest.com. 75 winners, with a companion. Announce two winners on the spot right now, so down to 73.

After screening the trailer again, Chris Hardwick arrives to take another photo, this time with Stephen Colbert. His twitter is gonna explode.

Sixty four characters from J.K. Rowling’s life defining series of books (and the films that WB lovingly adapted) made it through the Goblet of Fire. Unless you’re Crabbe and Goyle (and shame on you if you are), everyone that made it into this March Madness-style Triwizard Tournament received at least some love in the proceedings.

And that’s how it should be. Each and every time something like this is organized, I’m sure a new winner is crowned. Harry Potter is so rich and full with brilliant, multi-faceted characters, and everyone has their own favorite. Now we know the favorite of our tiny corner of the universe, as a winner is crowned on the 16th anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts.

Was there any doubt that a witch or wizard from Gryffindor (“Not Slytherin. Not Slytherin.”) would stand above all the rest when it was all said and done? Perhaps it’s surprising who ended up as the internet’s champion, as Harry Potter himself, Neville Longbottom, Ron Weasley, and the Weasley Twins, were nowhere to be found holding the mantle of favorite/best Harry Potter universe character when it was all said and done. It was none other than Hermione Granger, who out-prepared the field, never coming close to defeat, taking out the might that is the Weasley Twins in the finals, with a whopping 76.5% of the vote. Here’s the final bracket, as Granger vanquished Dean Thomas, Gilderoy Lockhart, Professor McGonagall, Remus Lupin, Albus Dumbledore and the Weasley Twins en route to holding the Triwizard Cup.

In other words:

After every March Madness tournament, CBS Sports airs “One Shining Moment,” a video featuring the highlights of the games, the drama, the tears, the excitement. Grant Belcher, an enormously talented friend of the site, fashioned his own version for this tournament. It’s very easily the best thing that’s ever come out of Seven Inches of Your Time since its inception. Without further ado, here is Hermione Granger’s One Shining Moment:

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YE BE WARNED: ARROW 2×20 SPOILERS AHEAD, MATEY.

I have never read any of The Flash’s comics. Frankly, the only thing I ever knew about The Flash was that he had a red costume with a lightning bolt and was part of the DC Universe. But that didn’t stop me from Googling until I could Google no more when ARROW made the announcement that they would introduce The Flash during Season 2 to promote his Fall 2014 spin-off. As expected, the comicfans already can’t stand the actor [Grant Gustin] that’s been cast, and although I think he’s the most precious of all the adorables I can totes understand why others may not be thrilled. However my big (and really my only) problem with this situation is: Is it really necessary for another superhero show?

SMALLVILLE, bless its heart, lasted for ten seasons. It was a fantastic run of a [mostly] wonderful show (seasons 6 & 7 did drag quite a bit) and when it ended you felt really good about it. Maybe a little shaky about the resistance and ultimate denial of giving the audience one look at Superman in all his spandex-glory, but confident that Clark Kent was moving on to do great things.

Now, with the emergence of superhero and comic-film branding taking over cinema, the push to bring our heroes to the small screen is growing, and fast. With ARROW debuting last year, it had a pretty slow start but thankfully has blossomed into a show that’s found its feet with a great cast of colorful characters (no thanks to the Lance Ladies), and such deliciously tormented villains that you can’t help but (SPOILERS!) mourn the murder of Mrs. Moira Queen. A believable blend of humans, science and super-powers, ARROW does not leave you wanting. Thus far we’ve had a phenomenal introduction of so many heroes and villains including Deadshot, the Black Canary, Sebastian Blood, Huntress/Helena Bertinelli and let’s never forget the terrifying Clock King (Robert Knepper is the MAN).

ARROW, in combination with AGENTS OF S.H.I.E.L.D. (as much as possible, anyway) has fulfilled my necessary addictions to superhero drama while I [im]patiently await the next big-budget-blockbuster to come smashing into theatres (I also have a tendency to re-watch films many, many times over which does wonders for the cravings). But now, with the addition of both GOTHAM and THE FLASH hitting our idiot-boxes this fall [Ed. Note: Not to mention POWERS, HEROES 2.0, Marvel’s DEFENDERS, CONSTANTINE, maybe PEGGY CARTER, PREACHER, HOURMAN], I have to wonder when enough will be enough. Now I love super-heroes as much as any nerd, but having them forced on me from every direction is going to wear out its welcome real soon.

For now folks can’t get enough of these caped crusaders, but just like the vampire obsession that’s finally coming to a close after damn near 10 years, pretty soon it’s going to start feeling like we’re beating a dead horse. We’ve got superheroes in movies, on TV, in comics and graphic novels, what’s next? Are we going to start doing radio-spots and audio productions?

Honestly, it almost feels like I’m betraying myself by saying “Enough superheroes!” but the more the studios capitalize on them, the less special they become. Fifteen years ago it was a huge, monumental moment in a geek’s life that the X-Men were getting a live-action film, and now the studios will produce anything they can get their hands on (unless it’s a super-heroine, of course.) Yes, we love the AVENGERS and X-MEN franchises, Nolan’s BATMAN was a trilogy to stop the heart, and I think that with a little (or a lot) more love Snyder’s SUPERMAN could be a fearsome thing to behold… But do we really need every hero ever to get their own show or movie? Where do we draw the line?

Of course I’m going to watch all these new hero shows and I probably couldn’t stop myself from seeing all the upcoming movies even if I tried, but my logic-brain is feeling overwhelmed, angry and disappointed that instead of picking and choosing the best of the best to breathe life into, we’re giving away studio money to characters that don’t really need it. The Flash may be an interesting, dynamic character, but I’m not convinced that he needs his own show. Would I feel differently if that spot was being given to Poison Ivy or any of the four versions of Huntress? Probably, yes. That show would be something new, exciting and courageous; something that people wouldn’t be expecting or even really know that they wanted until it happened [Ed. Note: WB’s BIRDS OF PREY did happen, unfortunately]. It wouldn’t be just another superhero television series, but an introduction to a new breed of comic adaptation that we haven’t seen standing alone in 25 years: namely, the female kind.

But really, the issue here is not about gender of character, it’s about the fact that superheroes are becoming a dime-a-dozen instead of the rare gem they should be, and it’s time to pump the brakes, hang up the cape, and get back to producing original (or just non-comic) media for a little while. It may not be a surefire money-maker, but a little deprivation will go a long way in reinvigorating that crack-cocaine, uncontrollable need for our leather-clad lovers to get back into their suits.

Toss the needle and flush the drugs, y’all. Let’s all take a deep breath (but please don’t hold it) and revisit this superfad of superheroes in a few years’ time.

It’s all come down to this.

After a torturous tournament run that can only be described as Azkabanian (I’d rather have taken my N.E.W.T.’s), twothree wizards remain.

Fred and George Weasley, the twin champions of comedy, took out Harry Potter himself (“We got Potter! We got Potter!”), en route to representing the Burrow and all that’s light, frothy and jokesy about the world.

Hermione Granger, the bushy-tailed every-woman nerd, vanquished Albus Dumbledore, showing book smarts still matters in an age where books are dying.

Now opposites face off. Fred and George Weasley dropped out of Hogwart’s to pursue a career in making people laugh. Hermione would rather die than let that happen…though of course, we never see her graduate from Hogwart’s either, as she sorted out her priorities. Can she sort out the twins?

As Oliver Wood would say, “This is it.”

“The big one,” said Fred Weasley.

“The one we’ve all been waiting for,” said George.

They know Oliver’s speech by heart, and you know the drill by now…so without further ado, VOTE FOR YOUR FAVORITE HARRY POTTER CHARACTER!

Voting ends Thursday May 1st at 11:59 PM PT. Feel free to vote till your fingers bleed. You may need a pint of Butterbeer, or seven, from Madam Rosmerta’s private reserve to make a decision.

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Only eight witches and wizards remain in this crazed March Madness-style tournament of HARRY POTTER characters. Allow me to illuminate the bracket for you. LUMOS!

None of the survivors are Ron Weasley. If there was one person I’m fine with one of the all-time greats losing to, it’s his dear ole mum, the patron saint of parenthood/awesome, and the den mother of the Burrow/all of us, Molly Weasley.

Whimsy and quirk were defeated once and for all, as Luna Lovegood was no match for the Half-Blood Prince, one Severus Snape, and I have no quibble(r)s about it.

Harry’s father figures are like squibs: we don’t want any part of that shit, as Sirius Black succumbed to the veil once again.

Death Eaters have also been eradicated, as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and Bellatrix Lestrange have been Avada Kedavra’d from the proceedings.

Its humans only, as Hedwig has taken his final flight.

Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom, as has been fated, will face off for a spot in the Final Four. But will it even matter, with Snape, Lupin, Hermione or Dumbledore emerging on the other side, and the King or Queen of Weasley’s standing in their way to the Championship?

We’ve arrived to the Elite 8, when decisions are more painful than splinching, or as exhausting as Hermione’s class schedule sans a time turner. Was Harry truly the right Chosen One? Can the Weasley twin wheeze past their mother? Can Hermione dispatch our favorite Professor/werewolf, Remus Lupin? Can Snape outwit his second and truest master, Albus Dumbledore? Time to find out.

Voting lasts through the weekend, until April 27th at 11:59 PM PT. Feel free to vote as often as you’d like, and tell your friends (muggle or otherwise) via owl or floo powder, unless you want to receive a howler when they find out you were sipping on Madam Rosmerta’s Butterbeers without them.

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The first two rounds of our March Madness style Harry Potter bracket has been fun, mildly diverting. Relatively easy. It was like remedial potions. Now the bracket looks like this (click on the image to make it larger):

Now it gets brutal. Sirius. Like cruciatus curse painful. It’s time to forever sort your priorities. Voldemort takes on Dumbledore. Harry gets a chance at vengeance against Bellatrix. Neville faces his toughest test yet…an owl. Hermione vs. McGonagall (!!). Ron against his mother. Fred and George must take down Sirius Black…and perhaps the biggest match of opposites ever: Luna Lovegood versus one Severus Snape.

Second round results and analysis is forthcoming (Hagrid loses to a character who was never alive for any part of the books…and that was the only upset). For rankings of the most recent losers, check this out. Let’s jump into this like Neville would a Herbology class.

Voting lasts until Wednesday, April 23rd, at 11:59 PM PT. Feel free to vote as often as you’d like, and tell your friends (muggle or otherwise) via owl or floo powder, unless you want to receive a howler when they find out you were sipping on Madam Rosmerta’s Butterbeers without them.

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On Monday, we launched the first round of the March Madness-style HARRY POTTER themed bracket. After four days of routs, combined with a few upsets (Oliver Wood for Prime Minister) that Professor Trelawney likely could have predicted in her sleep (which is how she does her predictions), NOW we’re jumping into the dark, murky depths of the tunnels of Hogwarts (Basilisk beware!), so deep and suffocating that even gillyweed wouldn’t save you.

Only 32 characters remain to achieve glory, angling for a spot in the Sweet Sixteen. Click on the bracket below for a better glimpse at the witches, wizards, owls, centaurs, muggles, ghosts, house elves and half-giants that remain.

For predictions and analysis from a lackluster Lee Jordan impression, check out our Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Bracketology. For commentary and tributes to the fallen favorites, consult Lee Jordan’s Unforgivable Bracket Results.

The easy answers have been made. Round 2 and beyond will serve to give us the answers that even Bathilda Bagshot doesn’t know the answer to, and you certainly wouldn’t find in A History of Magic. Who is Potterverse’s champion of quirky and cool: Tonks or Luna Lovegood? Is Kingsley Shacklebolt the most underrated HP character there is? Will anyone vote for the Dursley’s against Harry? Can the humble Hufflepuff house and their savior, Cedric Diggory, take down Sir Neville Longbottom? Can evil triumph when Bellatrix battles Mad Eye? Who is the internet’s favorite Weasley: Can Ginny beat her mother? Will the twins topple their father? Is anyone losing any sleep over Percy Weasley’s elimination? Does Lee Jordan, the unofficial bracket mascot/host, have what it takes to continue his Cinderella run? Are Oliver “Gives Me” Wood, Lily Potter and Firenze built to last in this tournament? The answers are coming, as Round 2 begins.

Voting lasts until Monday, April 21st, at 11:59 PM PT. Feel free to vote as often as you’d like, and tell your friends (muggle or otherwise) via owl or floo powder, unless you want to receive a howler when they find out you were sipping on Madam Rosmerta’s Butterbeers without them.

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This past Monday, this silly HP-themed bracket was launched on this website that, I’ll tell ya, doesn’t pay well. We’re officially through with the opening round, with Round 2 kicking off NOW. To vote, GO HERE.

Over the course of the tournament, I, your thrilling/but totally bored host, Lee Jordan, will walk you through the twists, the turns, the soul-crushing defeats, the heart-soaring comebacks, and the Cinderella stories of this tournament. As always, I shall announce the results loud and clear so you won’t need extendable ears to hear it, wherever you may be on the interwebs.

The Burrow Region:

1. Ron Weasley DEF. 16. Seamus Finnigan: Ron, perhaps the favorite for the whole tournament, depending on whom you ask, managed to vanquish his first test, though it wasn’t a breeze like it was for Harry and Hermione. Kinda like his life. Seamus Finnegan was probably the toughest #16 seed though, and it showed, as Ron only received 81.2% of the vote.

Oh, Seamus:

8. Bill Weasley DEF. 9. Fleur Delacour: The odd couple was the closest match of the second half of Round 1, which proved to be less than thrilling. This was close (the Were-Weasley notched 56% of the vote), but still kinda milquetoast.

Hey, remember when Ron asked Fleur to the Yule Ball and she married his older brother?

5. Ginny Weasley DEF. 12. Cho Chang: I clearly underestimated the love for Ginny, as Mrs. Potter ran away with this one, (Jennifer) garnering 90% of the tallies. Maybe it’s because I go bro before ho’s, and Ginny’s the sister of my best mates. Smooth move, Potter. I guess Cho was kind of a bitch to Harry. Who cares about the death of Cedric, anyhow? Lame excuse.

No words:

4. Molly Weasley DEF. 13. Narcissa Malfoy: Molly destroyed Narcissa, and all is right in the universe.

Here’s Narcissa’s saving grace:

6. Arthur Weasley DEF. 11. Lucius Malfoy: People clearly love Jason Isaacs, because while Arthur won quite handily, only 70% seemed like a victory for Lucius. For awhile, Lucius was the scariest villain in the HP universe. He was Draco’s father, the man who created the nuisance to all creation, and before he became a wimp, he was one of the more imposing foes Harry faced…before You-Know-Who came back.

Here’s a tribute to the man, entitled “Dark & Beautiful,” which I in no shape or form watched, so good luck:

3. Fred & George Weasley DEF. 14. Charlie Weasley: Charlie seems like a nice enough bloke, but its the TWINS! Here here! F&G proved the biggest studs of the opening round in this region, netting 94.1% of the vote.

Because Charlie Weasley hardly exists, I give to you…a faux trailer or something for a Charlie Weasley film starring Seth Green in the titular role, and the dragons from DRAGONHEART:

10. Lee Jordan DEF. 7. Percy Weasley: 100 POINTS FOR GRYFFINDOR! Hooray, me! Finally, an upset, though I’d hardly call this one. It wasn’t even close, as I got nigh 80% of the votes. Sirius better watch his back.

Percy wasn’t going to get a video (nor does he deserve one), until I stumbled upon this:

2. Sirius Black DEF. 15. Buckbeak: Poor Buckbeak. He saves Sirius’ ass on multiple occasions, only survives because of some questionable time travel, and STILL, he gets whupped on by his buddy Mr. Black.

Good ole Buckbeak. Here’s our introduction to the proud, dangerous and wonderful creature, minus the awful Draco Malfoy bits that threatened to ruin that entire book/movie:

The Dark Arts (And Defense Against Thereof):

1. Severus Snape DEF. 16. James Potter: While Snape won handily, he also was by far the weakest top seed performer in the opening round, only receiving 69.9% of the vote. Snape is a mercurial, love/hate character, but James Potter, aside from spawning the Boy Who Lived, seemed like a right arse, and I expected Snape to destroy him and get his revenge. Snape moves on…but perhaps I’m overrating his appeal. Or am I underrating the loyalty to the Potter family?

8. Nearly Headless Nick DEF. 9. Moaning Myrtle: Moaning Myrtle scares the bejesus out of me, and John Cleese is a legend, and the whole idea of someone being “nearly headless” is one of the most brilliant things I’ve ever heard.

Remember when Moaning Myrtle helped Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory win the Triwizard Tournament, and maybe ghost boink Cedric?

5. Nymphadora Tonks DEF. 12. Garrick Ollivander: The wand chooses the wizard, but not enough people chose Ollivander. I love Natalia Tena and the vivacious attitude of Tonks, and so does the Internet, though I was surprised by how many votes Ollivander received (getting almost 30% of the shares). John Hurt is the tits though.

4. Luna Lovegood DEF. 13. Viktor Krum: If the first round is any indication, Luna Lovegood might emerge victorious against Tonks in a battle of the weird and alternative. I would’ve guessed Viktor Krum would have more love than Ollivander, yet Luna pushed him off his broom and stomped on his face, coming away with 82.4% of the vote.

I’m with Ron; Krum sucks. Some other people disagree, however:

6. Kingsley Shacklebolt DEF. 11. Rufus Scrimgeour: In a battle of better Ministers of Magic than Cornelius Fudge, Kingsley proved the easy winner, racking up the second highest differential in the region. Whenever I read his name, I envision Ben Kingsley and Bolt from BOLT, hitching a ride on a Firebolt broom, perhaps with Love Shack playing in the background. It’s a wonderful image, and if anyone else in the world now thinks that when they happen upon Kingsley Shacklebolt, this whole tournament was a success.

Before we meet meet Rufus, he has one of the most badass introductions:

3. Voldemort DEF. 14. Nagini: Nagini is terrifying, because snakes are the worst, and it’s clear that only one man could defeat Nagini (Neville). But the horcrux is no match for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

Nagini has many BIG moments in the series, but the Bathilda Bagshot scene in Godric’s Hollow takes the cake:

10. Aberforth Dumbledore DEF. 7. Filch & Mrs. Norris: For whatever reason, I always thought Filch and Mrs. Norris had a bizarre following comprised of cat people and prickly maids/butlers, but if there is, they aren’t on the Internet, as Aberforth plowed through the caretaker with ease, getting 77% of the votes cast in his general direction.

This is Everything:

Filch is the best, when you’re not the one in trouble:

2. Albus Dumbledore DEF. 15. Gellert Grindelwald: This probably would be the most epic wizarding duel ever, but instead, Albus was in cruise control, getting 86.1% of the vote en route to a match up against his (rightfully) resentful brother.

The Chosen One(s) Region:

1. Harry Potter DEF. 16. Cornelius Fudge: What, you expected the boy who lived not to survive the first round of his own bloody tournament? It certainly helps that he took on an oaf. Shockingly, four other matchups were bigger landslides than this duel, and Harry notched 96.4% of the vote. What can we learn from this? Not only were there a lot of lopsided affairs in Round 1 (thus far), but perhaps Harry Potter is not as invincible as one might think. A less likely possibility? There are Cornelius Fudge sympathizers. Bwahahahaaha.

As a send off, I give you Harry & The Potters performing…”Cornelius Fudge is an Ass”:

And for the six people who voted for Cornelius Fudge, he’s a video chronicling his journey from clueless politician to “total douchebaggery”:

9. The Dursleys DEF. 8. Peter Pettigrew: The masses have spoken. We’d much rather suffer through an unbearable childhood in a closet under the stairs and bullied by a fat moron, than deal with a man who betrayed his parents, leading to their premature deaths. Yeah, I suppose that makes sense, though it was actually the 5th closest battle. It’s pretty sad that the Dursleys were ever allowed to win anything in this stupid tournament. It’ll be no doubt be rectified next round, as the HP/Dursleys second round match is the early odds-on favorite for most lopsided of the bunch.

Here’s the big Scabbers reveal:

5. Mad Eye Moody DEF. 12. Mundungus Fletcher: Fletcher was one of the most useless and crappy characters Rowling created, and the evidence helps back up that assertion, as Moody rolled to a massive victory, garnering 96.6% of the vote, the fourth biggest margin in the tourney thus far.

Here’s Mundungus’ interrogation:

4. Bellatrix Lestrange DEF. 13. Griphook: So far, Bellatrix Lestrange is the only villainous character to survive the first round. Are HP fans a bunch of Pansy Parkinson’s? Or are they saving their love for the right villains? Clearly, Helena Bonham Carter’s Bellatrix is one of them, setting up a fascinating match between her and Mad Eye Moody.

Goblins are people too (okay, so not true, but you get my point), so let’s say farewell to the kinda nice creature with a scene from Shell Cottage:

6. Hedwig DEF. 11. Fawkes: Here I was, thinking Hedwig was a sleeper for the Sweet 16, because he’s a badass owl (and Harry’s badass owl), but he barely took out Fawkes. Did I overestimate Hedwig, or underrate Fawkes? I lean toward the latter, as this was the second closest fight of the first round, probably because of how useful the bird was throughout the series, its association with Dumbledore, and because somebody manipulated the voters by putting the picture of Fawkes crying. How do you vote against a crying bird? Who knew birds can cry? Well, phoenixes (phoenices? phoenii?) can do practically anything, another reason why the mystical creature almost took out the world’s most infamous snowy owl.

Look no further than these scenes from CHAMBER OF SECRETS to learn why Fawkes is so popular:

14. Oliver Wood DEF. 3. Draco Malfoy: This was by far the most thrilling match of the first round (thus far, though I doubt it’ll be topped). Oliver Wood’s name will be mentioned in the same breath as many of the all-time great upsets and Cinderella teams in history (Butler, Wichita State, Gonzaga, Florida Gulf Coast) following this nail-biting victory. Oliver Wood taught Harry, and all of us, Quidditch, and did so in a sexy accent, and was the Coach Taylor of the Gryffindor team. And that proved the difference, even though Team Felton almost made the comeback, coming two votes shy of a tie after trailing by a hefty deficit. Turns out Malfoy’s “good looks” couldn’t tip the scale with all of his other nasty traits. I’ll give it to him though, he sure can say “Potter” with the best of ’em.

Good riddance.

7. Cedric Diggory DEF. 10. Barty Crouch Jr.: Team Edward beats Team Tennant, and fairly handily, receiving 70.1% of the vote. In so doing, the Hero of Hufflepuff has announced his presence as a contender for a big-time run.

To say goodbye, here’s one of two scenes we actually see Barty Crouch Jr.’s true form, and it’s a doozy:

2. Neville Longbottom DEF. 15. Crabbe & Goyle: Well, this one just wasn’t fair. My preseason pick to win it all didn’t disappoint in his opening round game, as Neville is the only contender to receive 100% of the vote. Not one person could muster a vote for the dipshit twins. Maybe if they were Harry and Ron AS Crabbe & Goyle, Polyjuice style, it would’ve been a different story. Neville has a tougher test ahead of him in Cedric Diggory, and perhaps such a soft first round matchup might give our boy a false sense of security.

Because they didn’t get a single vote, I’m assuming that means no one cares they’re gone, so they don’t get a video.

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“It’s Levi-OSA” Region

1. Hermione Granger DEF. 16. Dean Thomas: The Giraffe proved little trouble for Hermione. While Dean Thomas received a higher percentage of votes (4.7%) than fellow 16 seed Cornelius Fudge (barely, 3.6%), I think Hermione’s performance is more impressive than Harry’s, because Fudge was a gimme matchup. Dean Thomas actually has fans, because he’s attractive, and could’ve knocked up Ginny.

Here’s “Save Ginny Weasley From Dean Thomas” by Harry & The Potters:

Or there’s this creepy Harry Potter as Norman Bates video:

8. Gilderoy Lockhart DEF. 9. Rita Skeeter: The fans have chosen ineptitude over conniving manipulator, a pretty salient statement on society. It was the third closest battle waged in the opening two regions, however, with Gilderoy escaping with 57.5% of the vote.

For awhile, Rita Skeeter was one of the most annoying thorns in Harry’s side…but I kind of remember her fondly now. Time heals wounds, people.

12. Firenze DEF. 5. Dolores Umbridge: Every year, a #12 seed topples a #5 seed, and oftentimes there is more than one. Firenze proves that adage true even when there isn’t basketball involved. Firenze proved to be more than capable of springing the upset, and it wasn’t even close, as he outclassed the Pink Puke, getting 77% of the vote.

Dolores was one of the most effective villains in the series, but she could not overcome a character with such unfortunate history with the character. Maybe it’s not so surprising after all. She clearly deserved it.

There are an infinite number of ways why we hate Dolores Umbridge. Here’s one of them:

4. Professor McGonagall DEF. 13. Professor Trelawney: Poor dear ole Trelawney. Always getting the short end of the stick, as she fell in lopsided fashion to Minerva, in the third biggest deficit of the two opening regions. McGonagall proved she’s a force to be reckoned with, because Trelawney’s a funny, whimsical character played by a popular actress. But Maggie Smith is kind of the ultimate trump card, and will likely end Firenze’s Cinderella story (imagine a centaur in glass slippers) before it gathers more steam.

When Trelawney gets fired, even Minerva had Trelawney’s back:

6. Dobby DEF. 11. Kreacher: No doubt Dobby is punishing himself for kicking out a fellow House Elf, probably preheating the oven before he can stuff his ears in it, or whatever else inane things the self-flagellating elf does in his free time.

Poor Kreacher. Here’s Kreacher before Harry started to treat him better:

3. Remus Lupin DEF. 14. Fenrir Greyback: Probably the biggest no brainer of the first round, maybe even more than the Fudge/Potter “match.” One of the most sympathetic, haunted, damaged and heroic characters in all the books…against the evil prick who turned him into a werewolf. Greyback’s a fearsome foe and villain…but he got what was coming here. Some evil bastard votes for Fenrir, but that only happened once, as Lupin very nearly swept his opening opponent, setting up a fascinating Lupin/Dobby duel in the Round of 32.

10. Lily Potter DEF. 7. Horace Slughorn: For a character who exists more in what other people say about her, or what we see in brief flashbacks, it’s incredible the backing Lily Potter has. Of course, it helps that she seems like the perfect human, and saved Harry’s life, saved Snape’s life by caring for him, and essentially cared for everyone. She’s the idyllic Mother, and while she lacks layers like many of the other characters in this bracket, she also has untold upside, after taking out her former Potions teacher and Slug Club host, receiving 72.5% of the vote. Something tells me Slughorn wouldn’t have minded.

Horace Slughorn is an amusing lout, and thanks to his Felix Felicis potion and jaunt with Harry, is one of the comedic highlights of the HALF-BLOOD PRINCE. I wouldn’t say he deserved better, since he told Tom Riddle about Horcruxes, but I liked the guy. Here’s how we first met him:

2. Hagrid DEF. 15. Aragog: Hagrid’s likely bawling his eyes out and drinking himself into a stupor for defeating his old pal Aragog, as he got 91.2% of the vote, gliding into the second round against a far more daunting opponent: Lily Potter. Rooting against Lily Potter is like rooting against flowers and happiness and butterflies…but HAGRID, people.

Aragog’s a giant, scary spider…so there’s that. But…

“Farewell, Aragog, king of arachnids, whose long and faithful friendship those who knew you won’t forget! Though your body will decay, your spirit lingers on in the quiet, web-spun places of your forest home. May your many-eyed descendants ever flourish and your human friends find solace for the loss they have sustained.“

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