#GrantMorrison TheInvisibles DoomPatrol AnimalMan Crowley ChaosMagick TalkingWithGods Comic GraphicNovel

[gawdheads]

A glimpse of Morrison’s dwelling

Can’t deny that scotish accent’s just taken over me. It’s almost ridiculous trying to get rid of it. Somehow, a week ago or perhaps more days to come, I decided to go back at one of the greatest comic books writer: Grant Morrison. Surfing on Youtube, found a documentary that follows his early days and crazy shit. “Talking with gods”. Then, I haven’t been able to finish it in one sitting. This character has his background full of astonishing details; outside, rain hasn’t stop in two hours, and the thunders and lightnings and big drops seem to call the shades of every human being with a beating heart. Rest of them (we can’t live ‘em out) talk with soft voices, whispering to our chests what is behind a doubt, a desire, making a turn in a corner.

All his written pages have more from him than anything else you can think, besides, he’s quite open ‘bout practicing magic, using sigils, metaphorical alien abductions and epiphanies in sacred places, he’s biggest contribution is his ability to listen, to talk to the characters that come to life after you feel the comic book page with that huge need of being renewed. Watching TWG made me contemplate the possibility of understanding the bond between reality and fiction: dead entropy. I know it’s not a correct definition or one to relay on but it’s the only way I have to name it. So if entropy corresponds to how a chaotic a system can be, how random the behavior of its elements can be, then, what seems to be appalling is actually, the best depiction of trepidation in harmony. This system has an order within, a dynamic that goes beyond any linear or overstructured law that aims to explain what is really going on.

Chaos itself represents a higher complexity to our reason than reality’s mishaps. Its semanthics trascend above and before our own fragilty discovers its own futility, till we can get to see it all from a dimensional superior standpoint. Being one with the universe means becoming a version for it. And that’s why you can be whatever you want. Freedom’s an extradimensional state. A chaos within will always be perfect to be free, and I don’t mean nihilism at all: that’s something acids have given me. And I miss it.

You know. Since I was a kid I’ve always wanted to be understood, but keeping my secrets alive,wrapping them in a halo of mystery. Now I’m old. It doesn’t add up if regretful or sway, if deceitful or savage, nothing’s slick when the mirror displays a face that you’ve met but you can’t recognize anymore. Openness has been my best card, guess it’s time to summon a different ace, one that bleeds but hurt.

One that can be heard whenever I’m not around.