Tuesday, July 17, 2001


MONA, TAKING IN WATER
David Hontiveros


Drowning Mona, ostensibly a black comedy, begins by bumping off one of its most recognizable cast members, Bette Midler (the titular Mona Dearly), and immediately kicks into gear as the apparent accident quickly proves to be anything but, and Chief Rash (Danny DeVito) plunges in to investigate.

The problem is, Mona was such a shrewish harridan, no one seems to be the least bit remorseful over her death, and the rest of the ensemble cast becomes suspect in the murder most foul.

Among the quirky characters who populate this off-kilter tale are Mona’s apparently p-whipped husband, Phil (William Fichtner), Chief Rash’s soon-to-be son-in-law, Bobby (Casey Affleck, in a dirty blond ‘do), the Chief’s daughter, Ellen (Neve Campbell), and the waitress with a secret, Rona (Jamie Lee Curtis).

Perhaps the best part about Drowning Mona is the obvious fun the performers have with their less-than-likeable characters. Its shortcomings though, lie in its script (written by Peter Steinfeld). Lacking the over-the-top viciousness of Very Bad Things, Mona depends on its characters to keep the story interesting. But, though the performances are notable, the characters, as they are written, aren’t as engaging as they should be. (I can’t help but look back at last year’s Cookie’s Fortune, which not only had a respectable ensemble including Glenn Close and Julianne Moore, but the characters, as they were written, were also intriguing and involving.)

The film isn’t too much of a whodunnit either, as the identity of the culprit is rather transparent, and the eleventh hour twist doesn’t do much but muddle up the proceedings.

The most interesting portions of the film are quite possibly the characters’ recollections of Mona Dearly, where we occasionally see the same event from different points of view. It is also a noteworthy point that the only sympathetic image we see of Mona is from the Chief’s memories. Though we do see that Mona is also human after all, this singular instance is hardly enough for us to reverse our abhorrence for Mona, thus, though it serves to reinforce the police chief’s utter neutrality towards Mona, the memory itself becomes a curiosity that rudely stands out from the others.

Making the most of the wacky goings-on are Fichtner (whom most may remember as the sexually questionable cop from Go) and Curtis, De Vito not given much to do other than run around and ask questions. The younger Affleck (who appeared with big brother Ben in Good Will Hunting and 200 Cigarettes) also gamely gets into character as the much put-upon Bobby, though Campbell isn’t quite as successful, as she struggles with the accent she adopts for Ellen.

And Midler, as the film’s centerpiece, is pinpoint perfect as the absolutely horrid Mona Dearly, whose death comes as a welcome surprise to all and sundry.

An agreeable hour and a half of entertainment, Drowning Mona is fair viewing, so long as you don’t expect too much and don’t look too deeply for substance.




Sunday, June 10, 2001


DANCING WITH A FIVE LEGGED IGUANA
By David Hontiveros



Don’t blame me, this is Karen’s idea.

For some reason, Karen seems to think I can write an article similar to hers in last year’s December 25 issue of MIRROR. (Dave is a brilliant storyteller. I am not.—Karen)

Well, I’ll give it my best shot.

To make things easier, I’ll present the article in a barrage of tips, since writing is not an exact science and can’t be presented in a step-by-step how-to. Let’s get to it, shall we?

ACKNOWLEDGE THE PRESENCE OF YOUR MUSE

Let’s face it, all creative types have them. And I’m not talking about neuroses and moods that are euphemistically referred to as “artistic temperaments.” I’m talking about those otherworldly entities that are the source of inspiration that make us do the things we do, that make us go to the lengths we go to to turn that elusive vision into a concrete, physical object--into a piece of art.

I’m talking about MUSES.

You see, you have to acknowledge them because they’re a notoriously fickle lot. When they swoop down and cast that whammy, filling you with that drive, the urge to create, to boogie on down with them, you can bet your bottom peso that if you don’t shake your booty right then and there, that inspiration will just disappear, POOF, as if it was never there, the sound of the needle scratching across the grooves in the vinyl, a long, screeching, accusatory sound.

And that’s because you ignored your muse. Your inaction was as good as saying, “Hey, honey, haven’t you heard, disco’s dead. I got better things to do.” (This is, of course, using as an example, a muse of the disco-dancing variety. Some do the tango. Others, the cha-cha. It’s all very much a matter of taste.)

Be sensitive to her moods. Humor her. You don’t have to know what your muse looks like, just that she’s there; though having a mental picture of her is always a good thing, like having a grad photo of your girlfriend in your wallet. (I’ve been fortunate enough to know that my muse is a five-legged Iguana. She treats me well and we have lots of fun dancing. Thank goodness she doesn’t dance to disco either.)

EXPOSE YOURSELF TO CREATIVE CATALYSTS

You can’t always wait for your muse to get in the mood. Sometimes you have to prompt her and prod her a little. Sort of like renting a video before…ummm…never mind.

Read a lot. And I’m not just talking about traffic signs and the cable guide. Reading requires books. Lots of them. A library’s a good place to visit. (Aw, come on! Libraries aren’t dentist’s offices) and don’t be fooled by the word “comics,” either. There are Pulitzer prize winning comics out there, bub.

Watch a lot of TV and films. Not no-brainer TV gunk or cheesy Hollywood fare, mind you. View some intellectually stimulating films like “Hudson Hawk” or “Cyborg.” (He-he. Just kidding.) Try some independent films on for size. Stuff like “Blood Simple” or “sex, lies, and videotape” or “Clerks” or “Paperhouse.” Edgy stuff that pushes the envelope. Or stuff by auteurs like Woody Allen or Whit Stillman or David Lynch.

And believe it or not, there are number of shows on the tube that are worth spending time sitting still for. Shows with sharp, intelligent writing, witty and thought-provoking plots and excellent, award- winning (or at the very least, nominated) performances. I’ll leave you to find them on your own.

Listen to music. I said “music”, not Top 40 fodder. Songs that say something about the human condition in ways and words that aren’t hackneyed. Songs that wouldn’t make Morrissey want to “hang the dj,” if you know what I mean.

I call all of these “creative catalysts” because these are works of art that, in turn, if you’re receptive enough to them (and provided your muse is nice to you), should give you ideas and get the creative juices flowing.

On a personal note, I listen to a LOT of college music, read constantly (meaning that I’m always in the middle of some book or other, not that I spend every moment of rest reading—if I did this, I wouldn’t get any work done), get a weekly dose of an assorted bunch of comics, watch movies on a regular basis (weekly), and was an avid follower of series like “Twin Peaks” and “China Beach” (These days, I watch “The X-Files,” “NYPD Blue,” “Friends,” “E.R.” and “Chicago Hope,” to name a few.)

And merging music and images, I watch MTV too, though most of my viewing is restricted to “120 Minutes,” “Alternative Nation,” “The Maxx,” “Aeon Flux,” and “Liquid TV.”

It is this steady input of images and information that serves as sparks for all the stories that are constantly in my head, giving them forms and shapes, helping in their gestation and eventual birth.

ALWAYS CARRY AROUND SOME WRITING IMPLEMENTS

We can’t all have the money to buy laptops, so in most cases, a pen and a small pad of paper will do nicely.

This is because your muse will strike at the strangest and at all times, most inopportune moments: in the bathroom; at church; in a theater, during the awful commercials and trailers for the latest Steven Seagal movie; while you’re half-asleep or when you’ve just awoken from one of those particularly vivid dreams where you’re a headless chicken running for your life, while you’re being hounded and persecuted by suspicious yuppies and snot-nosed ten-year-olds; or that perennial favorite, during traffic. (If one is to believe many a writer, worlds have been created and destroyed while waiting for the lights to turn green on that looooong stretch of EDSA. Perhaps this is the case with our world: God’s stuck in traffic somewhere in the Pleiades, waiting for Cthullhu—who I hear drives like a grandmother—to get a move on. And the world will end, not with a bang, nor with a whimper, but when God finally kicks into second gear.)

Just a thought. Sorry. As I was saying, always be ready for that spark. This is not to say, however, that you should whip out that pad while Father Perdisyon is in the middle of his homily about child possession through repeated viewing of “Sailor Moon”. You do the decent thing and wait till the service is over, then write about your next Big Idea—a musical burlesque of the Book of Revelations. (Hey, don’t knock it. The Bible’s a great place to look for inspiration.)

LEARN TO LOVE RESEARCH

Like I’ve said earlier, libraries aren’t dentists’ offices. And be honest with yourself. How are you going to write that period epic without knowing what women wore during the Spanish era? How are you going to write that short story set in London if you don’t know the word they use to refer to a flashlight? (It’s “torch,” if you wanted to know.) How are you going to write that culinary murder mystery if you don’t even know exactly which mushrooms are poisonous and which aren’t?

These are the kinds of things you uncover when you plow through those books and sink your teeth into research. Films are good reference points too, if dialogue is your concern. (It wouldn’t do to have a knight of the Round Table speak in slang now, would it?)

The point is, you can set your story wherever you’d like to, provided you have access to material that can tell you about the setting. (You don’t actually have to travel to Haiti, in order to write a story about zombies and voodoo. You just have to read up a lot, before you even start to think about the story itself.)

Immerse yourself in the society and culture you’d like to write about. Of course, traveling there and seeing the sights, breathing the air and the local color, is the best way to write about a place, but if you don’t have the means to pay for that air fare, reading’s the next best thing.

Remember, Bram Stroker wrote Dracula without ever having set foot in Transylvania.

TRY NOT TO WORRY ABOUT THE BASIC PREMISE; WORRY MORE ABOUT THE EXECUTION.

Many a writer has asserted that every story has already been told; that there are, in fact, no more new stories. Shakespeare’s done them all. And if not him, there are a thousand other authors and poets and playwrights who’ve been down this path before; a path you and I are just beginning to discover.

To a certain extent, I believe this. That’s why I worry more about how to tell a story, rather than the story itself.

Do you tell it in first, second, or third person? Do you use flashbacks or utilize a non-linear method of storytelling? Do you use in medias res to begin the story or do you slowly build up to the main action of the piece? Will there be an ensemble cast to tell the story, or will you just stick to one or two principals as your protagonists?

These are just some of the questions you need to ask yourself when you sit down to write that story. And in the end, it is how you tell the story that will make or break it.

EXPERIMENT WITH YOUR STYLE

Never be content with your writing. Play around with the way you write. It takes years for some writers to find their “voice”, that unique style in which they write that makes them stand out from any other writer.

This is another reason I recommend reading a lot, because when you read other authors’ works, you get to see what you should (and shouldn’t) do. You get to try out different styles of writing, and hopefully, learn a trick or two. (This is one of the reasons why I’m a big fan of anthologies. You get to sample a wide variety of authors’ styles, and the average length of a short story makes it easy to study and dissect, so you can see for yourself just how they did what they did.)

I’ve found that a good exercise is to, every now and then, set out to write in a specific author’s “voice”. Write a Bradbury, or a Lovecraft, or a Koja. See how the shoe fits. See what you like and dislike about that specific style. Are there any elements of the author’s style that you can assimilate into your own style? Are there any that you find you cannot do, or don’t like at all?

And keep in mind, it’s only an exercise. It’s a means to an end, not the end itself. The point isn’t to be the next Stephen King, but to be a good writer, and if the way Stephen King writes can help you learn how to find your own “voice,” then by all means, I say go for it.

KNOW THE BASICS

An established writer once said ( And I forget who it was exactly that said this), “You have to know the rules before you can break the rules.” ( These weren’t the exact words, but this was the essence of what he said)

I live by these words: Let’s face it, if everybody wrote like their grade school grammar teachers told them to write, well, everything would be…boring. And believe me, I don’t mean to belittle grade school grammar teachers. Hell, I owe them a lot! They provided the foundation upon which I build my “voice,” instructed me in the “googoo’s” and “ga-ga’s”, so I could graduate to words like “transubstantiation,” “deoxyribonucleic,” and “goo-ga.” Yes, “goo-ga.”


See, the spirit of this author’s sentiment, when he said we needed to know the rules in order to break them, was that these were simply guidelines, not letters of the law. I firmly believe that if writers concentrate too much on the technical nuances of writing, then they lose the art of it. Ideas need to flow freely, and words and sentences are the tools we use to convey those ideas.

And knowing the basics doesn’t mean you have to know what an intransitive passive direct dangling object participle is exactly. So long as you can construct a readable sentence that manages to express its idea clearly, then you’re well on your way to being a writer.

Though if there’s something to keep in mind, it’s this: you really shouldn’t start to break the rules until your confident enough in your writing to start trying something different. (Refer to the previous tip about experimentation.)

NEVER, EVER, EVER, COMPARE YOURSELF WITH ANOTHER WRITER

“Oh God, I can never be as good as Neil Gaiman.”


If this is your first thought, before you even sit down to think about your story, then you can just forget the whole pipe dream about being a best-selling author and just content yourself by joining the rat race, getting a normal nine to five, and reading Neil’s stuff.

If it’s something I learned over the years, it’s counter-productive to think that you can be better (or worse) than another writer. Than only writer you can be better than, is yourself.

Every new story that you write, every paragraph, every sentence, keep on thinking that you can make it better than the last. If you keep at it, all the hard work’s bound to pay off.

Of course, some people will say a little good-natured rivalry is always beneficial, but this just so often falls by the wayside when egos come into the picture.

Me, I’m content with pushing myself, and using my own performance as a yardstick. I ask myself, am I a better writer than I was one, two, three years ago? If the answer is “Yes”, then I must be doing something right…

BE PREPARED FOR CRITICISM

When you finally got the story on paper, you’re going to have to show it to someone eventually, even if it’s only to your friends and family. (But of course, friends and family aren’t the most objective people around, unless they hate your guts, in which case, they could be your average critic.)

You may get “Oooohs” and “Aaaaahs.” Or your may get, “What the hell is this horse (bleep)?”

Remember that when the tomatoes and rotten vegetables come flying in like nuclear warheads aimed for sensitive military targets, that the commends are not meant to be personal. (This is provided that the individuals making the comments are logical, sane, objective, qualified people, not pathological character assassins). When you’re on the receiving end, learn to separate the work from the artist. (Come to think of it, this is a good rule of thumb, even when you’re on the giving end. If a fellow writer asks you to critique her work, don’t murder it just because she was a fan of the New Kids on the Block.)

Again, keep in mind, it’s not personal. When they say, “Isn’t it too short?” they’re not challenging your manhood. When they say, “Shouldn’t you put a little more meat on it?” they mean the substance of the story, not that you’re skinny and you should eat more. (Although they may mean that too.) When they say, “It stinks,” they’re not talking about your personal hygiene.

Of course, critical comments aren’t normally this simple, but the point is, that you should be open to the possibility that your story may not be as great as you think it is. And when these comments come in, they’re meant to improve the story.

On the opposite end, you shouldn’t readily take all the comments tossed your way as Bible Truth. You also have to learn to weigh things, such as the source of said comment. Again, don’t make it a personal thing. Just keep in mind where the other person is coming from. If you’ve just written a very visceral horror story, and this person is somebody who throws up whenever you watch a George Romero movie, then maybe this wasn’t the right person to ask for a critique in the first place. If you’ve just written a lengthy comedy of manners and the person you’re asking comments from falls asleep during Merchant-Ivory drawing room dramas, hey, let’s just pack it all in, why don’t we?

In the end, common sense and open-mindedness should prevail.

TRY NOT TO BE YOUR OWN WORST CRITIC

While on the subject of criticism, try not to put yourself down too much. This ties into the “comparing yourself with a famous author” syndrome.

The following has been known to happen: You write a story, leave it alone for a while, then go back to it and say, “Eeurrgh! I wrote this atrocity?!” But that doesn’t mean you throw it out. Maybe you can salvage it, play Dr. Herbert West and re-animate the bugger. Or, it could be that it isn’t as bad as you think it is. (Which is where other people come in. Refer to the previous tip.)

It’s also a natural occurrence for an author to go over his past work and not to completely satisfied with it, time and distance from the writing process allowing him to see the weaknesses in plot and character, allowing him to see where he could have done it differently, where he could have made it better. (Even Neil Gaiman wasn’t entirely happy with the early Sandman issues.) As I said, that’s all natural, but that doesn’t invalidate the whole work. There will always be little things, sequences that you will be proud of, no matter what happens. The trick is to chalk it all up to experience, to learn from the mistakes and go on. Don’t linger. Don’t obsess.

The best thing you can do for yourself is…

KEEP ON WRITING

The two things established writers tell aspiring writers when asked the question, What should I do to become a good writer? 1) Read a lot; and 2) Write a lot.

Just write as often as you can, whenever the mood strikes. All the very least, it’s good exercise. There is truth to the adage, “Practice makes perfect.” At the very most, you could sit down at the computer one fine day, begin a short story, that slowly but surely takes a life of its own, and soon becomes your First Novel. You never know.

In parting, let me tell you this. Harlan Ellison once said, “…you cannot discourage a real writer,” and, “break a real writer’s hands, and s/he will tap out a story with feet or nose.”

I know exactly what Mr. Ellison means. I need to tell my stories. When I “hear the music” (again, a phrase from Mr. Ellison), I am compelled to put pen to paper, to tap out the words on the keyboard and strike ‘F10’, because I must let those ideas lose; if I don’t, I have the awful feeling I ‘d burst.

I’d like to think that other writers are familiar with this feeling. So you won’t mind if I excuse myself, right? I have to take my five-legged iguana out for a round of pogo-ing; if not, I could end up a right bloody mess.

See you on the dance floor.


June 1996

Sunday, June 03, 2001

I met with Dave last Saturday at McDo, Greenbelt. Had to get some scripts and artwork from him. I showed him the art for HORUS #5, illustrated by Clint, a high school teacher from Batangas and an aspiring comic book artist. Well, for a newbie, his stuff looks great! Dave and Carl liked what he did for HORUS.

And after a long while, got to talk to Dave about comic books again. Said that he wasn’t blown away with Grant’s first issue in X-MEN and he compares this with how Grant started on JLA, AZTEK, and his run as writer of THE FLASH. Still, Dave said, the dialog was trademark Grant. His theory on Ms. Nova is that she’s Prof.X’s evil twin sisters. Considering that Grant recognizes X-MEN is one big soap opera, what could be more soap opera-ish than introducing an evil twin?

Makes sense to me.

Monday, May 28, 2001

I TEGO ARCANA DEI
(Being an Overview of The Invisibles in Three Parts)
by David Hontiveros

Part 3: “In The Darkness, We Are All Invisible”


“Darling! They have tranny TV presenters here. I feel positively plain.”
“You’ll never be plain, Fanny. The world’s getting more like us every day.
It’s everything I ever hoped for. Everything is real.”
“Except my tits. Fill me in, baby.”
-- Lord Fanny to King Mob
The Invisibles Vol. Three # 10
“Satanstorm” Three: “The `It’ Girls”


The much anticipated third volume of The Invisibles kicks off with the four-part arc, “Satanstorm,” which explores in greater depth, Sir Miles’ past involvement with one of the Invisibles, as well as the true connection between Division X and the Invisibles. Set in Britain, “Satanstorm” returns to the tone of Volume One, as the guns go quiet and the royal conspiracy plot thread kicks back in.

“Diana’s firstborn, the Moonchild we planned, would have been eighteen now and ready to be occupied… if she hadn’t taken fright, if she hadn’t seen `Rosemary’s Baby’ on television, if she’d had the wit to comprehend her destiny as the mother of the new aeon…”
-- Sir Miles
The Invisibles Vol. Three # 10
“Satanstorm” Three: “The `It’ Girls”


In preparation for the upcoming conflict with the Lost Ones, most of the Invisibles we’ve met in the past assemble, a pre-millennial, post-modern bunch of Round Table Knights (with the exception of Boy—who is still in America—and Ragged Robin—who is still in the future). With impressive art by Philip Bond, “Satanstorm” lights the bomb’s fuse in grand style, as we join Grant Morrison as he counts down to the millennium.

In a stroke of sly genius, the numbering of Volume Three begins with issue 12, and counts downwards, till the last issue-- # 1-- scheduled for release in late April. And Brian Bolland (who has already won an Eisner Award—the comic industry’s equivalent of the Oscar—for his cover work on The Invisibles), designs and executes the Volume Three covers so each issue sports its number prominently, along with occasional imagery that also refers to the issue’s number.

From: Ariel@gloriana.freeserve.uk
To: RexPop@virgin.net
Date: June 20 1999
Subject: The day to day…

The day-to-day existence of the elderly, like that of the magician, is filled with an extraordinarily high level of coincidence. Everything ultimately repeats itself.

One seems to stand still while the faces and backgrounds blur past at an ever-increasing rate, like that scene from the film of “The Time Machine.”

The furniture flickers, rearranging itself; skirts are short, then long, then short again; hair flows and dries up and flows once more.
Imagine then the life of the elderly magician. One long, shining thread of coincidence.

-- e-mail from Edith to King Mob
The Invisibles Vol. Three # 8
“Karmageddon” Part One: “Tantrika”


Volume Three’s second story arc, “Karmageddon,” focuses on Edith’s passing from the realm of the flesh, as she returns to India to die. Joined there by King Mob, we also get to see King Mob’s first meeting with Edith (though of course, that meeting is the second time Edith meets Mob), as he contemplates suicide while listening to The Smiths’ Hatful of Hollow (specifically, “Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now”). Here, at this moment, it is almost as if time experiences meltdown, as King Mob sees a body burning on the river (which Edith does not see), which turns out to be Edith’s own body, which Mob sets alight himself upon her death.

And though the art here (by Sean Phillips) is not as wonderfully crafted as Bond’s from “Satanstorm,” “Karmageddon” is nonetheless a moving tale as we bid farewell to one of the most memorably-written characters in comics.

“You are playing a game disguised as everything. Remember?”
-- Harlequinade
The Invisibles Vol. Three # 5
“Karmageddon” Part Four: “Smile”


Volume Three’s third story arc, “The Invisible Kingdom” is an artistic jam, with practically every single artist who ever drew The Invisibles (and some newcomers) contributing to the pages. (A most welcome surprise is the final page of issue 2—“The Invisible Kingdom” Part Three: “The Moment of the Blitz”—which is pencilled by Grant Morrison himself!) Here, the crowning of the Shadow King during the eclipse on the 11th of August takes place, while King Mob and company crash the party. Some of the cast members die in this encounter, and an eleventh hour twist is revealed here.

In a sequence that plays once more with our temporal perception, King Mob is slumped in a phone booth, bleeding from gunshot wounds, while outside, pedestrians walk by, among them, John Lennon and Stuart Sutcliffe (from “Dead Beetles”—Vol. One # 1) and the Harlequinade. It is also here where we finally see the significance of the story chronicled in Volume One’s “Best Man Fall.”
Meanwhile, as both The Invisibles and JLA are winding down, Morrison reportedly has a falling out with DC. Shabbily treated by certain editors at DC over a rejected proposal to revamp the Superman titles, Morrison is quoted as saying, “[I’m leaving to] get the shitty taste of the company I once loved out of my mouth.”

Some weeks after that though, Morrison expresses regret over his comments, so his relationship with DC may be far from over.

And while this goes on, Morrison’s latest comic book, Marvel Boy (a six-issue limited series under the Marvel Knights line) is announced for a June release. Described as “a punk with superpowers” by Marvel Knights editor Joe Quesada, Marvel Boy seems to hearken back to Morrison’s Zenith days, when he threw rock and roll, spandex, and Cthulhu mythos into a high-octane blender and produced an award-winning strip with collaborator Steve Yeowell.

Finally, issue 1 of Volume Three, the climax of The Invisibles, hits the stores, wrapping up nearly six years and 59 issues of madness and mayhem. Drawn by Frank Quitely (currently collaborating with Mark Millar on the absolutely mental The Authority), “Glitterdammerung” is chockful of information and ties in to quite a number of events throughout the series’ three volumes. The issue also ends with Jack Frost speaking, and here, Jack can be seen as proxy for Morrison, as he conveys his last message to the readers.

In the issue’s text piece, Morrison announces that though The Invisibles comic has come to an end, Reynard’s “Dear Sir” notes (seen in the issue) will be continued in the novel the IF, a hundred pages of which have already been written.

“There’s no difference between fate and free will. Here I am; put here, come here.
No difference. Same thing.
“Nothing ends that isn’t something else starting.
“So which side are you on? Do you know yet?”
-- Jack Frost
The Invisibles Vol. Three # 1
“Glitterdammerung”


For nearly six years, Grant Morrison dosed us up with a heady cocktail of the millennial zietgeist, and we, the “smart, odd people,” the “Midwich cuckoos of the world who don’t really fit in,” took that work to heart, signing up for the Invisible College without even knowing that we were already a part of it.

Well, the book’s done and Morrison leaves us with the reality that there are no more gods but ourselves. He also leaves us with an invitation: I’ve told you my story, time you told me yours.

So let’s get out there, cuckoos, and spin our own tales of the universe’s secrets. Let’s make Grant proud…
Carpe noctem and all that Latin jazz.

“Here’s to the Blank Badge. And to everything around it that makes it seem blank.
No more then. No more now.
“To chaos.”
-- King Mob’s toast
The Invisibles Vol. Three # 4
“The Invisible Kingdom” Part One:
“Planet Stepford”


Parting Shot: Thus far, Invisibles compilations include Say You Want a Revolution (containing issues 1 to 8 of Vol. One), Bloody Hell in America (issues 1 to 4 of Vol. Two), Counting To None (issues 5 to 13 of Vol. Two), and Kissing Mister Quimper (issues 14 to ? of Vol. Two; sorry, don’t have the data on me just now), which you can also find at your nearest comic book specialty store or Powerbooks. (Bizarrely, DC still has to compile the rest of Volume One in trade paperback form…)

Parting Shot 2: When asked what kind of fans he attracted, Morrison answered, “Smart, odd people. My fans are the Midwich cuckoos of the world who don’t really fit in, but suddenly read something and go, ‘This guy thinks around corners the way I do.’ It’s the same way I was when I discovered Burroughs; ‘F*ck, yeah, this makes sense.’”

Monday, May 21, 2001

I TEGO ARCANA DEI
(Being an Overview of The Invisibles in Three Parts)
by David Hontiveros


Part 2: “Which Side Are You On?”

IT happens on the morning of December 22, 2012. On that day all of history impacts with an unimaginable Apocalypse, an Event glimpsed and interpreted by the prophets of every culture – the biblical Armageddon, Norse Ragnarok, the Aztec Fifth Sun, the Hopi Fourth World, the Breaking of the Seals, the Rapture, Eschaton, Doomsday. It’s almost here. Haven’t you wondered why time appears to be speeding up?
-- from the introduction to
The Invisibles Volume Two


“Darlings! The color in your lives has returned!”
-- Lord Fanny
The Invisibles Vol. Two # 1
“Black Science” Part One: “Bangin’”


On December 1996, the first issue of The Invisibles Volume Two (sporting an awesome cover by Brian Bolland, who’d done cover art for Grant Morrison’s run on Animal Man) bursts onto comic store shelves.

Beginning the four-part “Black Science” story arc, issue 1 is also a wonderful set-up for the entire volume, re-acquainting us with King Mob’s crew, and introducing new Invisibles such as moneyed UFO abductee Mason Lang, and Jolly Roger, the head of a lesbian Invisibles cell called the “Poison Pussies” (Roger was mentioned in Volume One though this is the first time we actually see her), and new baddie Col. Friday. Issue 1 also features the re-appearance of Mr. Quimper (from Vol. One, # 25), while succeeding issues of “Black Science” introduce us (sadly, all too briefly) to other Invisibles like the Scotsman Emilio, and the Indian medicine man Austin.

“Black Science” manages to balance the bigger, brasher tone of Volume Two with all the bizarre little bits we’d come to know and love from Morrison: these are just some of the topics the arc touches upon: film as the Invisibles’ own secret language; the true story behind Roswell (it wasn’t a UFO that crashed in New Mexico; it’s something that could very well be God!); the conspiracy behind AIDS; and the real names of Donald Duck’s nephews!

And, as you may recall, Morrison had discovered the magical nature of The Invisibles during Volume One’s run, and just as Tom O’Bedlam states in “Down and Out in Heaven and Hell,” there is magic, “… neither bad nor good, just there to be used by the people who know.”

So Morrison used the magic of The Invisibles to turn things around in his personal life.

“Then I thought, `Wait a minute, what if King Mob has a good time?’ So I took him to America and gave him Ragged Robin as a girlfriend. I did it deliberately. I got the Brian Bolland cover and I said, `I want to meet that girl’ and I did a magic thing on it. Within months I met a girl who looked exactly like Ragged Robin.” Morrison went on to say, “My life has become the comic, it’s become fiction, it’s become fantasy, and the more fantastic I make it, the better it seems to work.”

And, not only was Volume Two influenced by Morrison’s personal concerns for his health, its over-all tone was also partially determined by lessons learned from the first volume.

Despite it’s not-so-perfect timing, I still think “Arcadia” is one of the most incredibly written, deeply meaningful and significant story arcs ever told in comics, ever.
-- Phil Jimenez

Sales went from 64,000 to 20,000 in the space of a few months and have only just started to rise again with the new stuff.
… So… yeah. “Arcadia.” Trust me, it was a disaster. I really liked it but it almost torpedoed the book. I’m still telling the same story I set out to tell, I still know where it goes and how it ends and the magickal intent behind it remains as was, but if I have to mutate a little to survive then I bloody well will. Or as the divine Johnny once sang, “I use the en-em-ey…”
-- Grant Morrison


And “mutate a little” Morrison did, as Volume Two quickly proved to have more ammunition, blood, and brains flying about in a single chapter of “Black Science” than all the 25 issues of Volume One! Fortunately, the pyrotechnics and John Woo moments are there strictly to attract a wider audience, while Morrison continues to deal the weirdness out in spades.

Of course, there is (in my opinion) the most awkward moment of Volume Two, issue 7 (“The Sound of the Atom Splitting”) whose page count is divided into a protracted sequence of ultraviolence prolonged to the point of gratuitousness, and a wonderful set piece of surreal weirdness, as Fanny and Dane dance like mad to obtain the Hand of Glory from the Harlequinade. I LOVED the dancing bit, but the bullets and the brains…

The awkwardness of that particular issue is painful, but fortunately, it’s immediately followed by the excellent three-parter, “Sensitive Criminals.”

“If my expression fails to convey my genuine surprise, Mr. Skat, it is simply because I have cultivated the bored stare as an art form.”
-- Edith Manning
The Invisibles Vol. Two # 8
“Sensitive Criminals” Part One:
“Poor Little Rich Girl”


An evocative and moving period piece (set in 1924 and 1997), “Sensitive Criminals” introduces us to an Invisibles cell in the Roaring 20’s, made up of Edith Manning (from Vol. One, # 1), Edith’s cousin, Freddie Harper-Seaton (better known to us in his later years as Tom O’Bedlam, from Volume One’s “Down and Out in Heaven and Hell”), Billy Chang, Ronald Tolliver (the first King Mob!), and Beryl Wyndham (a.k.a. Queen Mab, whose other connection to the sprawling tale of The Invisibles is revealed in Volume Three).

As I mentioned in Part 1 of “I Tego Arcana Dei,” The Invisibles folds back in on itself at certain points like an origami figure (origami being a central image of Volume Two beginning in Issue 4). This is seen repeatedly in Part Three of “Sensitive Criminals,” “Parisian Pierrot,” which references events seen in issues 3 and 12 of Volume One (“Down and Out in Heaven and Hell” Part Two and “Best Man Fall,” respectively), and in a sly little warping of our perceptions, a sequence we see again in issue 9 of Volume Three (“Satanstorm” Four: “Digging Up Beryl”), as if past (Vol. One), present (Vol. Two), and future (Vol. Three) were all occuring simultaneously, that indeed, all time was one.

Of course, this is our perspective; to Edith and company, all these events are yet to occur in their “future.” Absolutely mental, eh?

And speaking of perception, Morrison screws around well with ours when he gives us a closer look at Ragged Robin and Boy. Robin’s tale is finally made privy to us (the salient points of which can be seen in issues 6, “The Girl Most Likely To,” and 21, “All Tomorrow’s Parties,” as well as some parts of “Black Science 2”); as it turns out, she was actually sent to the past from the year 2012 to be a pivotal element in the war against the Lost Ones (from a future where Boy and King Mob are conspicuously absent).

And, as for the early, persistent theory that Robin was actually Crazy Jane from The Doom Patrol, here’s a bottom line (one of many perhaps): Robin’s real name is Kay—as is Jane’s—and when we see an eight-year old Kay (in “Black Science”), she is clutching a stuffed rabbit. (Morrison based Crazy Jane on the real life case of Truddi Chase, whose mind-blowing autobiography—recommended reading, children—is entitled When Rabbit Howls.)

Robin’s story, however, is trumped by the exquisite mindfuck Morrison sends our way in the form of the three-part “American Death Camp,” which oh-so-effectively questions all we had come to know and believe about Boy’s past (as chronicled in Vol. One, # 20, “How I Became Invisible”). “American Death Camp” is a wild, dizzying ride that is undoubtedly Boy’s Moment in the entire Invisibles run.

And, since Volume Two does boast an American tone, how much more American can you get than the idea of… a sequel!!!

“`Individuality’ is the name you give your sickness. Your deviation from correct functioning. Understand this: we have come to free you from chaos and uncertainty. And `individuality.’”
-- Mr. Quimper
The Invisibles Vol. Two # 19
“Black Science 2” Part Three:
“Pavlov’s Dogs”


The four-part “Black Science 2” returns us to the New Mexico facility we first saw in the original “Black Science,” and, among other things, reveals Mr. Quimper’s connection to Fanny’s past, and shows Robin in the year 2005, writing a book called The Invisibles. (And in 2005, the process of writing entails placing one’s self amidst the words and architecture of the work, to, in effect, write one’s self into the work; this a recurring theme in Morrison’s body of work: reality impinging upon fiction-- and vice-versa-- and the results thereof.)

We also again see the chess-playing individual who first appeared in “Arcadia.” Here, Dane has an insightful conversation with him (while he again sits in front of a chess board), and though he is never actually named, the script for issue 19 (“Pavlov’s Dogs”) identifies him as “Satan.” (Having said that though, I must also point out that he utters dialogue that echoes lines spoken by the Christ figure in “The Last Temptation of Jack”-- Vol. One, # 23—and intimates that he has met Dane before. Make of that what you will, children.)

“I remember looking at the Liberty Bell in Philadelphia when I was a little kid.
“That’s what I love about illusions; they’re right up there in front of you but somehow you don’t see them… until suddenly, you do… and I saw that I lived in a world where the symbol was more important than the reality. Where the menu was supposed to taste better than the meal.”
-- Mason Lang
The Invisibles Vol. Two # 22
“The Tower”


A re-reading of Volume Two has made me appreciate it more; I was initially doubtful of the ultraviolence that ran through its pages. In the end though, it is still The Invisibles we came to know and love from Volume One, albeit with the volume cranked way up, and the adrenaline rushing whitewater-quick.

The sly humor, the weird bits, the imaginative bravura; it’s all still here, beneath the blood and bullets. (In a quaint, self-referential moment from Volume Two-- # 5, “Time Machine Go”—King Mob visits his ex-girlfriend Jacqui. As they speak, he idly reads a comic book, commenting beneath his breath, “Christ! He’s making this bit too far-fetched…” When we get a glimpse of the comic’s cover, we see that it is actually a copy of the previous issue of The Invisibles!)

Next, “I Tego Arcana Dei” winds down as we take a look at Volume Three, where Grant Morrison’s ultimate conspiracy comes to an end. Till then, children, carpe noctem and all that Latin jazz.

“I’ve been asked to commend you for your participation in the assassination of the Moon Goddess, Diana. Or at least her earthly representative in this time section.
“The accompanying emotional climactic made quite a feast for our… governors.”
-- Col. Friday to Sir Miles
The Invisibles Vol. Two # 14
“Only Lovers Left Alive”



Wednesday, May 16, 2001

I TEGO ARCANA DEI
(Being an Overview of The Invisibles in Three Parts)
by David Hontiveros


Part 1: “Are You Ready To Wear The Blank Badge?”

“… city’s full of magic, neither bad nor good, just there to be used by the people who know. Cities live and breathe magic. Did you know that if you get a map and join up the sites of all the McDonald’s restaurants in London, it makes the sigil of the Dark Emperor Mammon?”
--Tom O’Bedlam, The Invisibles Vol. One # 3, “Down and Out in Heaven and Hell” Part 2



Grant Morrison’s ultimate conspiracy—in the form of The Invisibles—began on August 1994, when DC’s Vertigo line of comics unleashed the series’ first issue, which sported a day-glo grenade on its cover. Morrison, who had already pushed the envelope of the comic medium in Animal Man, and treated us to the surreal delights of The Doom Patrol, promised a book about occult anarchists, a book whose ultimate pay-off would be nothing less than the secret of the universe.

No one said it would be easy.

Initial low sales and a life-threatening illness were only some of the obstacles The Invisibles had to overcome to get to where it is now, its third volume winding down, the grand and bizarre tapestry begun nearly six years ago nearly in full view.

Most of the characters, themes, and leitmotifs of The Invisibles were established within the first eight issues: “Dead Beatles,” the three-part “Down and Out in Heaven and Hell,” and the four-part “Arcadia” (my personal all-time favorite Invisibles story arc).

Opening with beetle synchronicities and John Lennon as psychedelic godhead (get it? Beetle? Beatle?), The Invisibles then proceeded to delve into the sinister aspects of conformity and the viral nature of cities, before exploding in the brilliant flurry of “Arcadia.” With the assistance of the exquisitely talented Jill Thompson (who, incidentally enough, also illustrated my all-time favorite Sandman story arc, “Brief Lives”)—Morrison filled “Arcadia” with such seemingly disparate elements as Utopia, time travel, the French Revolution, Byron and the Shelleys, Templar lore, the Marquis de Sade, and the head of John the Baptist, and produced a humdinger of a tale.

And somewhere along the way, he also managed to introduce an Invisibles cell to us: King Mob, “the ultimate product of Invisibles training,” Ragged Robin, a neurotic witch whose power is founded on her skepticism, Boy, an African-American martial artist from New York, Lord Fanny, a South American transvestite bruja, and the new initiate, Dane McGowan, a Liverpudlian tearaway who could very well be the next Messiah.

Sadly, it was during “Arcadia” where the book began to lose readers. Having already admitted that “Arcadia” would be the most “difficult” bit of The Invisibles, Morrison pushed on with his ultimate conspiracy, going so far as to enlist the help of Invisibles readers in boosting sales. In issue 16’s letter column, Morrison displayed a sales-boosting sigil which would be charged by the mass wanking he asked Invisibles readers to participate in on the 23rd of November, 1995. This communal magick would then help Invisibles sales. I guess the sigil worked, ‘cause here we are, 41 issues later, with only two more before the tale is fully told. (I shall leave it up to your imaginations, children, to determine whether yours truly took part in said mass wanking.)

Most of The Invisibles’ second year was taken up by the shamanistic trials of Lord Fanny (in the three-part “She-Man”—again illustrated by Jill Thompson-- where the skeleton god Mictlantehcutli said, “We gods are only masks. Who wears us? Find it out!”), Dane (surrounded by his grey aliens—merely another mask), and King Mob (who is tortured mercilessly by the Lost Ones, the otherworldly enemies of the Invisibles).

It was somewhere around this time that Morrison was beset by a bacterial infection that nearly cost him his life, a pivotal event that made him realize the magic The Invisibles was capable of.

“The Invisibles radiates magic. Initially, I didn’t realize this, and I blithely put myself into the book. I figured, King Mob, he’s cool, I’ll make myself more like him. I’ll shave my head and then all the girls who read the comic will like me. So I’m doing all this stuff to King Mob. I wrote the storyline in the first book where he gets captured and thinks his face is being eaten away. Two months later a bug eats through my cheek. It ate right through and I just kept writing.

“Then I put King Mob through his shamanistic experience, where everything that he is gets torn apart. Shortly afterwards, everything collapsed in my life; my girlfriend left me and I end up in hospital dying of a bacterial infection, two days to live. I really thought that was it. And all the stories I’d been writing beforehand were about invasion from beyond by insectile, bacterial beings. Something in my body knew I was writing about it.”

(Later on, during the writing of Volume Two, Morrison would use this magic to turn things around.)

Thankfully, Morrison recovered from his illness, some of his experiences during his ordeal captured in issue 23, “The Last Temptation of Jack.”

Returning to earlier issues though, two stand-alone stories of note were released in The Invisibles’ first year: issue 12, “Best Man Fall,” a crackling bit of non-linear storytelling that not only presented a moving tale of a (at best) walk-on character in the Invisibles universe but also managed to retain the grand theme of the book, of life as a game; and issue 11, “Royal Monsters.”

“I knew she was wrong from the very beginning, but what does one do? Have you any idea how difficult it is to find a suitable virgin named Diana in this day and age?
“She lacked fiber, Willie. The breeding just wasn’t there.
“She was supposed to represent the mythical Diana, you see, the Moon Goddess, the Virgin Huntress, but the very concept seemed beyond her limited comprehension.
“Her firstborn was to have been the Moon-Child, the incarnate Shadow-King of a new England, the terrible Messiah of the Dark Millennium.”
Sir Miles, The Invisibles Vol. One # 11, “Royal Monsters”


“Royal Monsters” introduced the plot element of the English government’s conspiracy to maneuver a shambling monstrosity onto the throne, to crown it as the king of the coming millennium, a conspiracy that had Lady Diana as a failed breeding vessel for the intended “Shadow-King.” In issue 25 (“And A Half Dozen of the Other”), we were even treated to the disturbing sight of a Lovecraftian Shoggoth shagging poor Lady Di (all before her untimely death, of course, in an accident that had just enough questions surrounding it to serve as renewed impetus for this story thread, which became the central plot point in the third and final volume). It was, in fact, in issue 25 (the final issue of Volume One) where this thread was returned to, as Division X (an occult-tinged Professionals, if you will) was tipped off to the royal conspiracy.

Towards the end of the first volume, it also became public knowledge that Morrison was set to write the latest incarnation of the Justice League of America. And whilst others gasped at this apparent heresy, I looked forward to the spin the Baron of the Bizarre could bring to DC’s spandex set. (And, as it turned out, writing JLA was also Morrison’s bid to help keep The Invisibles an on-going concern; a successful gambit, as JLA was a HUGE hit for DC, kick-starting a franchise that still rolls on today. More on that in Part 3 of “I Tego Arcana Dei.”)

“The dalang is more than a puppeteer. His skill makes us believe that we see a war between two great armies, but there is no war. There is only the dalang.”
Agus, The Invisibles Vol. One # 5, “Arcadia” Part One: “Bloody Poetry”


The 25 issues of Volume One represent The Invisibles at its best: the dazzling, shimmering image of Morrison’s intent, kaleidoscopic and holographic, an intricate origami figure with endless facets to its paper self, which folds back onto itself at certain points of its structure. Utilizing rotating artist teams (as per The Sandman template), The Invisibles was a book that could, in Morrison’s own words, “… [give] me an opportunity to do anything that comes into my head, as long as it fits into The Invisibles overview. Which most things do.”

That was the intended ideal, which allowed for the heady trip of “Arcadia” and searing one-off of “Best Man Fall.” But adjustments were needed to keep the engine of The Invisibles running. The earliest indication that Volume Two would clearly be a different sort of animal than the first volume was the regular art team of Phil Jimenez and John Stokes (who’d wowed the crowd on the three-part look at King Mob, “Entropy in the U.K.” from Volume One).

The other overt difference was that Volume Two was to be set in the United States, and would focus on the American paranoiac’s mythos, taking a closer look at the conspiracy theories of the Americas. It would also have a decidedly more American tone to it; bigger, brasher, with more bang for the buck. But was this The Invisibles we had come to know and love over the 25 issues of the forst volume?

Be ‘round this neck of the woods for Part Two of “I Tego Arcana Dei” to find out!

Till then, carpe noctem and all that Latin jazz.


“Where will you be standing on the day of the coronation, when the gates come crashing down?” Mr. Quimper (via remote control), The Invisibles Vol. One # 25, “And A Half Dozen of the Other”

(Author’s note: “I Tego Arcana Dei” is Latin for “Begone! I conceal the secrets of God.” It is an anagram of the Latin phrase, “Et In Arcadia Ego,” whose relevance to The Invisibles can be seen in “Arcadia.”)