Grooooooorrn. I am a Barvardian Blromp! And I’m magical, other-worldly and mildly derivative.
“Huh?,” you say in a spoooooky voice, “Moooore informaaaaaation?” Well…
The year is 2014 and I appear on posters and book bags. Twilight has grown staaaaale. “Vampires?,” you say, scoffing and playing your Nintendo “Them” like a Zelfingorger! Forget vampires, give me gorgeous teenage Blromps loving each other’s bodies on a Bliztorte! That would be vokerous!
Oh—I’m sorry. Still confused? Then step into my time machine.
There we go. Let’s try this again. This time, I’ll start at the beginning.
It’s June 30,1997.
J. K. Rowling, unknown author, British woman, poor napkin lady (or so my mother first described her to me), publishes the surprise mega-hit Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone.
At once, the country is stricken. Hollywood and Corporate America, however, play a bit of a catch up game. First, pencils start to appear. Then bookmarks. And finally, the flood gates come down.
Movies. Toys. Ties. Beans of Every Flavor. $90 dollar stylized brooms. Children and adults alike happily whip out their checkbooks to embrace a universe previously ruled by the trading-card toting, RPG humping few.
Fast forward to October 5, 2005.
Stephanie Meyer drops Twilight and the country drops everything for vampires. But this time, America is ready; the Hollywood crank machine is primed to pump out, not just reasonably shitty adaptations of the Twilight books and all the accompanying accoutrement but also a host of derivative and corollary shows, like True Blood and The Vampire Diaries.
Hollywood has sold the fad wholesale, and we’ve just gobbled it up. Soon, I can’t even turn around without someone playfully biting my neck or dumping a bucket of blood juice on my face.
Now jump to 2009.
Our buddy J. J. Abrams (note: I don’t actually know J. J., so I’m assuming you’re his buddy) releases his Star Trek and our enemy James Cameron (again, assuming you’re his enemy) teases us with his Avatar.