No mere mortal can resist the evil of THRILLER action figures

Looking at really awesome action figures, I get the same feeling that I get, as a hetero dude, looking at very handsome men: I can appreciate why other people get so silly over them, and that's all fine and good, but I just have no desire to take one home for myself.

All that being said, this Michael Jackson Thriller toy has got me more than a little action figure-curious. (Click photos to enlargenize.) Not only do you get non-zombie Michael Jackson in that crazy '80s jacket (complete with creepy little smile,) but you also get a zombie Michael Jackson head, a torn and tattered crazy '80s jacket, and a whole bunch of tiny Michael Jackson hands. I can't imagine many circumstances where you would need a bunch of tiny Michael Jackson hands, but it's nice to know they're available in case of emergencies.

But, as zen teaches us, desire is never truly satisfied. Even when presented with such bounty, all I want is more! Where is the Jackson from the '50s monster movie in the Thriller video (you know, "I'm not like other guys...") with replaceable were-cat head? Where's the button on Jackson's back that makes his eyes light up yellow and activates a recording of Vincent Price's scary laugh?

See? This is how action figure collecting gets you. They seduce you with their sculpted, plastic bodies and hot boxes bursting with accessories, and the next thing you know you're spending all your money on these painted, 12-inch tramps who will never return your love.

This is far and away the silliest post I have ever written, and for that I do apologize. But now it's written and posted, and I'm afraid that's just something we're all going to have to accept.

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