The first thing I saw on arriving at the San Diego Convention was Wonder Woman bathing himself in a men's room sink. It's a strange and wondrous place, this Comic Con. Roughly 130,000 descend upon the bayside convention hall each year - a number that's been capped for some time now by organizers, as the show has outgrown the space.
Though there has been a fair amount of talk regarding a pontential expansion, so the city doesn't lose the valuable annual event to nearby Los Angeles.
By the end of the four day event (some might say even sooner), the surreal becomes commonplace, the giant superhero statues, the chanting crowds and the seas of thronging cosplayers as diverse as the media subcultures they've come to represent - a transient mid-size American city dedicated to flying their respective geek flags.
Between the costumed enthusiasts and the genuine superstars, the show is, quite arguably, planet Earth's preeminent locale for people watching. It's also a spectacle of sensory overload that everyone who isn't plagued by crowd rage ought to experience at least once, bathing Wonderwomen and all.
