Photo by: Trevor Tang
My collection of Mach Barons. Most were given a custom makeover. It took much time and a steady hand to paint them but the effort was well worth it!
Bullmark Blazer diecast
They said he was from Japan and that accounted for his funny accent but it was clear to me he weren’t no Japaner. They said his metal body was the result of wounds he’d received in a war or some such but I never believed that, not for one minute. Who ever heard of such a thing; a metal body?
He wasn’t a this earth, I tell you, not even this time, maybe. Sell my mother if it aint true.
What kind of a name is “Brayza,” anyway? It aint Japanese, that’s for sure. If he was a real Japaner they would’na never let him open up that restaurant a his, never woulda let him sign the lease. Oh, no, he wasn’t from here, that’s clear as the nose on m’face!
That crawly voice a his! All raspy and metallic like a giant insect with a spring, scrapin’ up the insides of a tin box. And him always tryna talk to motorcars and machines and the like as much as to people. You call that normal?
I tell you, that restaurant a his was a waitin’ place for his unholy friends! Why else would he a-called it the “Electric Lunch?” And the food! Good god almighty, who’d a-thunk a-such stuff? Green slimy weeds you never heard of all mashed up with fat, wormy noodles and stinkin’, sticky sauces with gaggy, fishy meat he got from who the hell knows where – it was enough to make you sick. Some claimed t’like it, if you you can believe that. He actually had reg’lars but I never trusted any that’d dine in there more than once.
He just weren’t cookin’ fer humans. Nossiree.
I don’t know as many people know this but he’d sit in there at nights sometimes, after hours and back in the dark, all kinda glowin’ and a-hummin’ and a-bip-boop-beepin’ along by himself. Just bidin’ his time, bidin’ his time. War wounds my puckered butt …
I tried to tell people, tried to warn ‘em, but they jus’ laugh’ me off even though not a-one of ‘em felt too sure around him themselves, if you pressed ‘em on it. Why the hair on yer neck would go up just from his passin’ you on the street, sometimes when you weren’t even lookin’ to know he was there. Him and his wheezy clank, clank, clank. There weren’t a dog in town who would stand him without barkin’ and growlin’ without end, and he *never* went t’church. Not once.
Well, one day the Electric Lunch just didn’t open up. It never did again ’til the bank took it and the works. What I would’n a-paid t’poke around back there in his dinky little room but they weren’t brookin’ no nosin’ around. No sir, it was all business and the next thing you know it’s a shop durn fulla gew gaws and what-nots fer gussied-up dudes and little, frilly girls, run by that ol’ Jew fellah, whatshisname. Not a bad sort for all that, to tell the truth.
Anyway, some say ol’ Brayza got tied up in shady dealin’s and hadda take it on the lam. Others like to joke that we’ll find him rusting away in the woods some day, or that he made a durn-fool attempt at swimmin’, him with all that metal on ‘im, an’ he’s at the bottom a some lake somewhere but not me, no sir, not me. An’ you can see by my hand a-pointin’ where I knowed he gone: up, an’ I don’t mean t’his jus’ rewards.
I look up nights, when it’s cool and clear, and I wonder when that sumbitch is gonna come back, come back here with his danged army when we’re all fast asleep. You mark my words: watch the damn sky!
As usual, I have to start at the beginning…
Most of the heads I roll with sorta know me as the local go-to guy for Godzilla trivia. No, not for any impressive honors or accolades I’ve earned…hell, I’m hardly the foremost expert in tokusatsu (though I certainly like to think I know my shit!). I sure love that scaly bastard and I ain’t shy about it, but I like to think I’m down with ALL daikaiju–the myriad giant monsters that fascinated me every Saturday morning on Creature Double Feature.
But what made CDF an extra-special experience for me was that it was one of the few times during the week my father and I would regularly spend together. He was a bit of a hard scifi nut, so it wasn’t much of a stretch for him to get down with the old-timey American scifi and various tokusatsu featured on the program.
Anyway, there was one particular series of movies that absolutely blew my fucking mind at that tender age–a kaiju offering so unlike the often-campy Godzilla and Gamera flicks I was used to. It started with AIP’s English-dubbed Majin, The Monster of Terror…where I saw a GOD in the form of a giant stone statue come to life after several men drove a giant steel pike into its forehead. This enraged god’s subsequent rampage climaxed with him pulling the pike from his forehead…and impaling the evil warlord with it. Fuck me. I think I was five years old. This was NO Godzilla dancing a jig after beating up an ambulatory pile of shit.
Keep in mind that I was (and am now) an atheist: see, my parents taught me all about Hindu mythology, and while I enjoyed hearing these stories from my people and learning about our customs and traditions, there was no expectation placed on me to believe in these deities. And my family had just moved to the (very Catholic) suburbs of the Bean, so my only experience of “God” was through these people I didn’t really understand yet.
So here was this depiction of god being a vengeful, deathless force of nature and justice…not some amorphous, benevolent dude who made people feel guilty for doing shit. Mind=blown.
Fast forward to last April. Over the past few years, folks like Jim M and Mark K–amorphous benevolent dudes, in their own right–have been shepherding my inexorable slide towards collecting vintage vinyl. I had been no stranger to Daimajin toys, but now it was time to go big or go home. I finally got me an original 1966 Marusan Daimajin figure.
And it is glorious.
The toy finally arrived a couple weeks ago…and with some rather curious timing, my old camera finally died last Friday. What you’re seeing are the very first shots from my brand new camera–and thankfully, the weather yesterday was quite agreeable…divine intervention, hmmm???
Anyway, the toy is stunning. I’m kinda glad I waited until I could fully appreciate the vintage aesthetic before picking this guy up. I know some people like more move-accurate sofubi…or just crazy-mint specimens of vintage pieces. This is neither. And I’m absolutely fine with that.
Granted, when he arrived, he was kinda grimy. No, I don’t mean he was about to steal forty bucks outta my wallet and sneak out a window–I mean, he had been well-loved over the decades and had picked up his fair share of dirt. Oh, and curiously, his legs were reversed (I’ve seen this before on other vintage specimens–funny how so few people thought to correct the awkward stance). I just disassembled the figure and took my time with some warm, soapy water and a soft-bristle toothbrush. A labor of love, no doubt.
The toy stands 9″ tall and is obviously made of blue vinyl with sparing silver and metallic green sprays. The paint rubs are numerous…but they don’t bother me in the slightest. It’s an old toy. It was played with by some child and appreciated enough to have been kept carefully in such nice shape for all these years. That weight of history is a big part of what makes vintage vinyl so special to me.
There are no cracks or other structural flaws with the vinyl. What’s interesting is that the sword hilt made of the same vinyl as the rest of the figure; on the hidden side is a simple plug that fits into a hole on the figure’s belt. The scabbard, however, is made of a very soft rubber. It’s simply glued on at the guard. I’m pretty sure that in the myriad reissues from M1 and Marusan, the whole sword is a single piece of vinyl.
Not too much more to say about this toy, so I’ll just leave you with a few more shots…
Hope you enjoyed the read and pics!
Bullmark Rockbat diecast
I thought he was just a kid goofing around. Just another bozo-button at large and awash in adolescence. You’ve seen ‘em; teens, sans supervision in the supermarket, making public fresh for their friends.
But this was different.
For one thing he was on his own. No giggling gaggle of onlookers applauded his tomfoolery. No, he worked alone – and, looking back on it, I do think it was work.
He tottered in goofily enough but made a beeline for the produce and, upon reaching that section of the market, tongue out (in concentration or anticipation I can’t say), leapt directly into the bananas and burrowed in.
My jaw must’ve darn near hit the floor when he did it, too. I don’t know who else saw him but the act was performed in such a perfect, fluid motion it had to’ve been practiced. Had to’ve been. You don’t just do that on a whim without hurting yourself, you know? Not that silently. It was stunning.
Anyway, I don’t know if he was foraging for food or looking for cover under there but he stayed under, muttering and rustling about, until the store officials showed up and asked, rather politely given the circumstances, just what he thought he was up to.
Oh, all hell broke loose then.
He burst from the banana bin and evaded the shouting scramble of store employees by leaping from display to display, havoc in his path. Peaches, mangoes, grapes, and cantaloupes were squitched, kicked and, in some cases, hucked. We onlookers ducked behind whatever we could find. I took to the floor behind the bulk-nut cart and thought I’d gotten away scott-free until I ran my fingers through my hair sometime afterwards and discovered a mass of orangey pulp there from some fruit or another. Even helpless, fuzzy little kiwis were not spared as the kooky intruder made his explosively circuitous and sticky escape.
One minute he’s mid-leap and pelting the cowering store manager with an endless fusillade of bing cherries, the next he’s a blur shooting out through the store’s advert-plastered, automatic doors.
That was the last we saw of him.
Takatoku Bibyun diecast
Weird noises come out of his place at all hours and the windows are almost always dark. Some nights you can see little, flickering lights moving around in there like he’s maneuvering about the place with tea lights in his hands and plenty of shochu in his veins.
Oh, yeah he drinks alright. Sometimes alone, sometimes with what sounds like a million angry ghosts but always the next morning: the clatter of glass and aluminum out the back door, down the steps, and into the recycle container, often to overflowing.
He bangs that porch door a lot and, if you look over, he sometimes waves his little, plastic swords menacingly in your direction.
We turn our heads when this happens, politely sucking on our cigarettes, pretending we aren’t amused, interested, or even aware of his bizarre, red costume with the bumpy blue eyes.
You don’t fuck around with a guy like that. Not in San Francisco. Not when he’s … the neighbor.
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Size ca. 20 cm / 7,9 inches
The box has seen better days…who cares…
Lurchi the fire salamander and his buddy Unkerich the yellow-bellied toad meet Mirrorman.
The 2 troublemakers are made by the Salamnder AG in germany.
There are 4 more figures that belong to the Lurchi toyline.
These early 70ties big sofubis are germany’s answer to Bullmark.
German Kaijus in leather shoes ;-)
Lurchi and his friends started their lives in 1937. They are comicfigures used by
the shoe manufacturer Salamander AG for promotion. They are very famous
in germany…like Godzilla in Japan…
Little story from the world of toy auctions.
…it happened at the end of january. I made my daily Rockbat auction check on Yahoo
and found something interesting for me. This auction caught my eye…Blazer, Box looks mint,
Bullmark and starting price 100 yen. Well, do I need another one? Yes!
But I don’t need to win the auction desperately, because I already have this Blazer.
Max bid 2000 yen…fire and forget…
…the auction ended and I was the only bidder. Yeah! I was astonished that really nobody
bid on this auction. I won my 100 ¥ Blazer!
Ok, with shipping, fees etc it was more a 1300 yen Blazer, but I won him for 100 ;-)
1 month later my big toy parcel from japan arrived in germany.
I was curious how my 100 yen auction looks in reality. On the auction fotos
everything looked mint, but you never know how it looks when you hold it in your hands.
I wasn’t dissapointed! The Box looks perfect. I love the artwork!
Then I opened the box and …
…the first thing I noticed: A Missile
(uups, I forgot to mention that the auction was for a box only)
How cool is that! I’m be happy as a kid, because I found a missile in the box (that wasn’t mentioned
in the Yahoo auction description)…all that for 100 yen.
But I wasn’t the only one who was happy now.
Also my small MFV Blazer was happy now. Finally he got an original Bullmark
missile…no ill-fitting Ark missile anymore.
Happy end for me and Blazer.
…and the Blazer box?
Hanging framed on the wall now :-D
Sorry…again a Blazer Brog…I’m a nerd…BBS
