I've only been in three different hotels around Comic-Con but in all three, someone thought a great way to promote their new movie or TV show was to wallpaper the doors and interiors of every elevator with really ugly, creepy imagery. I don't think these campaigns will make one person eager to watch the film or program being promoted but they might make a few people less eager to ride on elevators.

• Contrary to what some are saying, I don't think Donald Trump hates America. I just don't think he loves anyone or anything except Donald Trump.

Yes, it's crowded at this convention — though less so than before they went to the RFID badges which have little chips embedded in them and so are impossible to counterfeit. I don't think anyone in years past realized how many of those filling the hall were in on bogus badges but to me, the difference is notable.

When I mentioned this once before on this very blog, I got a nasty e-mail from someone who liked hiding behind a phony name as much as he liked getting in with a phony badge. He told me to dine on excrement and pass away because Comic-Con was overpriced and he wanted to get in and so he had to procure a fake badge because how else? Not getting what he wanted as certainly not an option, right? And of course, since I get in free each year, I have no right to criticize others who get in free a different way.

In a related story: In my one political-type discussion of the con so far, A Trump-backer told me Trump doesn't cheat or lie but even if he does, good for him. Because cheating to win is infinitely better than playing by the rules and losing.

I know this is a popular viewpoint these days. I just was a little surprised to hear it from a guy wearing a Captain America t-shirt.

Do not infer anything from the time stamp on this posting. I'm having a very good time at Comic-Con International in San Diego and getting enough sleep. Did two panels on Thursday with something like thirteen to go. Saw a lot of friends. I always have a very good time at these.

People who follow this blog keep asking me how my foot is. It's fine. It's the left knee that's giving me a spot of trouble — the knee I didn't have replaced at the end of September of 2015 and then re-replaced just after the following Halloween. That was the right one I had done because it had worn out and I pondered then why just one. After all, I got both knees at the same time and since I've never done much hopping, I'd taken approximately the same number of steps with each one.

Well, the left knee is now the one giving me problems. Still works but not as well as it should and at the con, I find myself sometimes wishing I could take a Lyft from one end of the hall to the other. More seriously, I wish for more places to sit…and I do better walking than standing in one place. I don't know if this knee's going to need the same upgrade. This seems more like an arthritis problem than a meniscus deficiency, and my doctors think surgery is not in the cards for a long while, if ever.

So instead of spending the con standing around talking to people, I'm spending it sitting and talking to people or walking and talking to people…and looking more infirm than I really am when I get up from low chairs. Aside from that, it's Comic-Con, same as it ever was…

One of my favorite places to eat in Los Angeles seems to be going away. For as long as I can remember, Andre's has been the best spot to get a quick, just-made plate of the best 'n' cheapest spaghetti and meat sauce a person could want. The decor isn't much and there's often a line out the door but those of us who love it really love and treasure it.

Just when it will close is a bit fuzzy and there seems to be a slim chance it won't…but some of us are already mourning Andre's and wondering how many more meals there we have left. Probably Answer: Not nearly enough. This is going to be like losing a treasured part of our lives if and when it happens and it's feeling a lot like a "when." Our friends at Eater LA have the whole sad story.

And they can also tell you about the troubles plaguing another local eatery where I've been known to eat pasta. In this case, the complaints of past employees make me not want to eat again at Caffe Roma in Beverly Hills even if it does survive. What is it with Italian restaurants these days?

Keep watching Seth Meyers. Some of the sharpest political humor and commentary we have these days…

• Trump just walked back his walk back of a correction of a clarification of a reversal of a firm position that he held but which he now says was a misquote of something he truly believes except that the crooked press took the part he never said out of context.

• I'm confused. Is Trump denying the Russians interfere with our elections and hinting that he really believes they do or saying that they do interfere and hinting that he really believes they don't? And does he switch off every three hours or every six?

One time in the seventies, I was at his house with, as I recall, the writer Mike Friedrich. Mike (if indeed it was Mike) and I were talking. Harlan was in his office pounding away on some essay — for what, I do not recall. He was wearing only a towel, which was his usual writing uniform in those days. And this doesn't matter much in the era of Microsoft Word but he was working on a manual typewriter — as he did all his life — and producing the cleanest, typo-free copy I ever saw. It was a skill somehow linked to his ability as a writer to choose words with great precision.

So like I said, Mike and I were sitting there talking and we suddenly heard Harlan whoop and shout to no one in particular, "I have just written the greatest fuckin' sentence I have ever written!" He bolted from his chair and began running madly around his house and even out into the street, losing the towel in the process. Like a nine-year-old on a Frosted Flakes high, he was sprinting and dancing and working off a rush of joyous, supercharged energy.

Mike and I looked at each other and one of us said, "That must be some sentence."

So while Harlan danced nude on his front porch, we rushed into his office for a peek at the greatest fuckin' sentence Harlan Ellison had ever written.

You may be crushed to hear that I cannot recall what it was; only that Mike and I agreed it wasn't notably superior to the fuckin' sentence before it or the fuckin' sentence before that or the fuckin' sentence before that or any of the many fuckin' sentences already on that page. It was a fine fuckin' sentence, a good fuckin' sentence, a fuckin' sentence worthy of the name Ellison…

…but not a particularly outstanding fuckin' sentence. An hour or so later when Harlan had completed the piece and he made us both read it, I don't think either Mike or I could even pick out which one it was and I'll lay you even money that Harlan couldn't either. By then, he might even have preferred several other fuckin' sentences in the article.

Next July, I will have been a professional writer for fifty years — or as Harlan would say, fifty fuckin' years. I have written a great many sentences. I wrote two just now for this paragraph. Make that three. I may even have written more sentences than my late friend, Harlan Ellison. Not better ones, certainly, but more.

I have definitely never written one that caused me to run out into the street for a naked victory dance…and since I am presently in a hotel room near the San Diego Convention Center, that is probably a very good thing. Not one sentence has made me do that, although that last one wasn't bad. That day at Harlan's, I think I got a bit of insight as to one thing that made his writing so exceptional.

As a longtime reader of everything he wrote that I could get my paws on, I guess I already knew he wrote with such passion, throwing himself into every noun, verb, adjective and adverb. I just hadn't seen and heard it before. I marveled at that passion, envied it at times and felt reassured that when I felt it on a page of his, it was really and truly there.

When used for good, that passion could be an awesome force and it was one thing…probably the main thing that made his books stand out for me from the work of so many others on the same shelves.

I have one more story I want to post here about Harlan. I'll try and get to it in the next week or so. You may already have guessed what it'll be about.

It's been a while since I shared a video of one of the funniest men I ever saw perform. Here's the late, great George Carl…

Matthew Yglesias explains Trump's lame "walk back" of his Helsinki performance. No one believes he didn't intend to say what he said but it didn't play well for Republicans in Congress so he had to backtrack a bit to make them comfy in their blind support of him.

I'm going to be busy (understandably, I trust) today and probably for the next few days with Comic-Con prep and travel and such. If you are attending, I urge you to download and peruse the PDF of the Comic-Con Quick Guide. Just about everything you need to know is in there.

The guide also announces the dates for the 2019 Comic-Con International. It'll be July 18-21 with a Preview Night on July 17. Same location. Same dealers in the same booths. Higher prices. And your top three choices of hotel rooms are already sold out.

A friend of mine made an interesting comment the other day: "The people who complain Comic-Con is not about comics are all people who don't go to the Eisner Awards." That's true. Even though some movie and TV people are present, the Eisners are only about comic books. Of course, I have friends who complain that the Eisner Awards are never about the right comic books but that's the nature of award shows.

If you're cruising off-site events at Comic-Con, remember my favorite. The Ralphs Market at 1st Avenue and G Street is practically an official annex of the convention — and it's open 24 hours if you're suddenly in desperate need of Pringles at 4 AM.

And lastly for now: I'm told that the Dick's Last Resort restaurant in the Gaslamp District has closed, which has me gravely concerned. Where will the really obnoxious, unfunny people who think they're funny get work? Where will masochists who like a side of abuse with their meals eat? I worry about such things.

Nothing much to say but I direct your attention to an article by San Diego journalist Peter Rowe — and I'll warn you it contains a number of quotes from me. It's kind of an overview of how difficult Comic-Con is to put on every year. The more I learn about how it operates, the more impressed I am with the skill and wisdom of those who make it happen.

The stand-up comedian Guy Marks (1923-1987) had one hit record — this lilting tune in the style of an old radio dance band remote. Long after anyone knew of dance band remotes, Marks was still singing this in his act and occasionally on TV shows. Here he is in a 1978 appearance on the British series, Top of the Pops. The word nobody can make out in the lyric is "shipfitter" although some of the back-up singers in this rendition seem to think it's "shoplifter"…

• Putin promising to help uncover Russian hacking efforts is like O.J. vowing to find the real killers.