Here's a look at some of companies that enjoyed massive success but eventually faltered, only to be brought back from the dead as "Zombie Brands..."

Polaroid: Edwin Land's company got its start selling polarized sunglasses in 1948 before moving into the instant camera market. They competed head-to-head with Kodak for many years but eventually faltered after the dubious introduction of Polavision, an ill-fated instant movie system that cost the company millions. They failed to make the jump to digital and filed for bankruptcy protection in 2001. The Polaroid name now appears on a variety of products including TVs and digital cameras.
Bell & Howell: There was once a time when nearly every school in North America had an A/V room filled with B&H 16mm projectors. The company's 16mm Filmo movie camera was renowned for its rugged simplicity and their 8mm cameras were tremendously popular with amateurs. Alas, they didn't survive the transition to video and the company produced its last motion picture camera in the late 1970s. These days, the B&H name is licensed to companies producing digital cameras, noise reduction headphones and even floor lamps.
Commodore computers seemed to be everywhere in the late 1970s and early 1980s. From modest beginnings with the KIM-1 board, they had a string of hits with the PET 2001, VIC-20, C-64 and the Amiga. Alas, they also had more than their fair share of flops. There have been several attempts to revive the Commodore brand in the years since its bankruptcy in 1994, most of them centering around the Amiga. The name was eventually sold in 2004 for a reported € 22-million and Commodore Gaming unveiled a line of expensive looking Commodore XX PCs.
AgfaPhoto: The oldest Zombie on the list, originally founded in 1867. The company was famous for the development of the Agfacolor film in the 1920s and the rollout of Agfacolor-Neu color reversal film in 1937 (intended to compete with Kodachrome). They filed for insolvency in early 2005 and the AgfaPhoto name is now licensed to companies such as Sagem, Plawa and the unfortunately named Lupus.
I can hardly wait to see which of today's high-flying brands will go on to become tomorrow's zombies.

There are some bargains in the wristwatch department, too. Several sellers are offering brand new
There is hope for stop motion animators who want to shoot with digital equipment, thanks to modern digital still camera technology and some clever software. Programs like Stop Motion Pro are capable of controlling a wide variety of digital cameras, including some affordable point-and-shoot models. The program costs anywhere from $70 to $595, depending on the features you require. The basic package is suitable for hobbyists, while the more costly versions add uncompressed image storage, unlimited resolution and multi-monitor output. 
If you're not scatter-gunning down hordes of invaders, perhaps you can make do with a smaller efficiency model. As a Chicago resident and fan of
Oh, and you can also pick one of these
Luckily, there is hope lurking on the fringes of the Internet. Characters like Jeffrey at Slipperyskip Computers have started cramming tiny motherboards into some very cool cases. This quirky little DECOmputer is built into the shell of an old 1938 Breakfaster toaster/hotplate. The original unit was perfect for modding: it had a wonderful art deco shape, Bakelite feet and a complete absence of fiddly switches and knobs. 
Each electronic component is housed in a small plastic box. The boxes contain magnets to connect them to each other or to a ferrous-coated mounting board that acted as an electrical ground plane. A typical kit included a variety of modules containing relays, speakers, variable capacitors, photocells and a battery pack. Prices in the USA started at $19.50 and ranged up to a whopping $128 for a full set (these were 1960s dollars, remember). It's a pity they didn't team up with LEGO -- I would have killed for an affordable modular electronics toy as a kid. 
The sports card publisher Fleer got the video game bug in the early 80's. They seem to have suffered especially from Pac-Man fever, and produced collectible stickers and rub-off games.
When I bought these as a kid, what I was interested in was the rub-off game. The maze was similar to the arcade's, but instead of little dots to eat the course is covered in golden scratch off circles. You grab your favorite gaming nickel (ahh, so THAT'S where this post's title refers to) and scratch away revealing dots (gulp!), blue ghosts (yum!), or the evil colored ghost mosters (wah-wah-wah).
I found a few of these cards from my childhood, and the scratch-off dots are now impenetrable. They were always a little hard to scratch off (probably to protect against rough handling and packaging), but the mysterious material is now molecularly bonded to the card, What's the lesson here? Don't save every little piece of junk from your childhood thinking you'll have fun with it again someday!
Back in the 40's Lockheed-Martin had a design group that were autonomous within the company. They had control over their own budgets, staff, procedure, and were able to jet through the bureaucracy that plagues any large organization. Through this radical approach, this secret group within Lockheed-Martin was able to deliver essential technology faster than ever. They continue to operate to this day.
Dark grey Big Trak (white and called "bigtrak" in the U.K. for some reason) was a programmable toy vehicle put out by game maker Milton Bradley - apparently it was developed by everyone's rubber-keyboard superstar Clive Sinclair. Video & handheld LED games were the rage at the time, but some of the microchip revolution made it into the brains of more traditional toys like this.
If you're tired of waiting more than 25 years for an official upgrade, some enterprising folks on the internet have reverse engineered Big Trak. There are plans online for adding new parts, replacing old ones, and interfacing your new gear with decades old plasti-tech. Take a look at the second link below just to appreciate how terribly clever the innards of Big Trak are. It takes some real engineering oomph to reduce a sophisticated technological concept into an affordable toy.
Amicus fiddled with many of the basic concepts of the original black and white series (the Doctor's surname is actually "Who" - an earthman inventor who is taking his time machine on its maiden voyage, etc.), excluding the films from the elaborate series canon. The first film was based on the first Dalek TV story, tightened up and laden with costly action. The follow-up film was unsurprisingly based on the second TV appearance of Daleks, but was not nearly as successful as the original movie. The option for a third movie was never picked up.
These movies are available as DVD's in wide screen (for years they were only available as poorly transferred pan & scan VHS tapes). I actually have them both in super 8 with sound, and are fun to trot out at parties. As a true Doctor Who fan, I can see where the films are inferior to the original cheap BBC productions. Though as a monster film fan as well, the Daleks are one of the coolest movie monsters of all time. Though there is still that issue with them and the stairs...
