Jawjacking with Gods, or why I love Grant Morrison.

For those of you who don't know, Grant Morrison is a comic book writer. Most recently, he's worked on the relaunch of Superman in the new Action Comics #1 and has been writing Batman for the last 4-5 years. His big projects include JLA, New X-Men, Final Crisis, Doom Patrol, Animal Man, as well as his amazing creator-owned work We3, The Invisibles, and The Filth.

All of which probably mean absolutely nothing to you if you don't read comic books.

But what's fascinating about Grant (@grantmorrison) is that he treats his role as a comic writer in much the same way that someone like David Bowie treats his role as a musician. Grant wants to find the magic in comics and bring that world to life here in the real world.

As he says in the documentary below, "the bomb before it was the bomb was an idea. But Superman is a better idea, so why don't we try to make that one real."

I felt like I never experienced both the humanity and the wonder of The Justice League or The X-Men or Batman until they were written by Grant. And only grant could make an idea as insane as We3 (logline: household pets are kidnapped and turned into cyborgs by corrupt military scientists before going on a killing spry to find their way home to their owners) into something so equally beautiful, horrific, tragic, and triumphant, all at the same time.

When I write, I want to be more like Grant Morrison.

I highly recommend watching this entire documentary. It's so worth it.

For Michael Jackson, or "walking on air"

When I was on the student council in elementary school, I'd somehow convinced the faculty advisor, Mrs. Wilson, that we should have a dance for the students.

Yes, I was probably 9 or 10 years old at the time. And, yes, that's crazy. Moving on.

I'm not even sure what BS story I made up to convince Mrs. Wilson to let a bunch of 3rd, 4th, and 5th graders have a party in the gym on the school's dime. It's not like she was the cool teacher that everybody liked. People hated and feared that woman, and rightly so. She was pretty doggone scary. But she bought it. There were some heavy restrictions put on the dancing, and, in her mind, the big pay off was the unveiling of this god awful paper mache giraffe that was supposed to be the school mascot, but we still pulled it off.

But the REAL highlight of the party was the dance contest.

Or, more specifically, the Michael Jackson dance-alike contest.

One of my best buddies at the time, David, won, even though he had some pretty stiff competition, including a kid who made the bold choice of not dancing like Michael but dancing like one of the slow-motion pop-locking zombies from "Thriller".

David was an active participant in the "Michael Jackson jacket" arms race.

Because, even in elementary school in the early 80's, every kid could tell you the difference between the "Beat It" jacket versus the "Thriller" jacket. And God help you if your mother bought you one made out of "pleather" (i.e. plastic leather). EVERY kid was desperate to get one or all of these jackets.

I remember going to a cookout at my aunt's house after my brother & I had gone to see "Ghostbusters", and my younger cousin was debuting his own take on Michael's moves. My dad dubbed it "The Pain Face".

I remember when my best friend Tito had a birthday party at his house, and the centerpiece of the entire thing was that his family had a video tape of the entire "Thriller" music video, and we'd all sit around and watch it again, and again, and again.

I could do this all day long.

As I said in a previous blog, Michael was magic. Pure and simple.

And magic matters.

It really, really does. Magic is there to remind us that there is MORE.

That WE, as human beings on this planet in this moment in time, are all MORE. MORE than any of us can ever possibly imagine.

That a child in a poor, hard-driving family in a dying industrial city could reach out across four decades and literally touch the souls of hundreds of millions of people in a way that each and every one of them are personally mourning him today as if he was a member of their family.....

Magic.

People crave magic.

The World? Not so much.

(OK, this is where I'm going to get in trouble).

I can't help but think about Jesus.

Because here was a man who didn't just heal through entertainment, but someone who, if we believe the stories, made the lame walk, made the blind see, feed thousands with next to nothing. But he, too, was still dragged through the streets, tortured, and murdered by the state as crowds cheered and soldiers gambled over his clothes.

I'm not saying Michael was, somehow, the 2nd Coming, or that he was executed.

But The World, or those in power, cannot allow people to believe in magic. If you know that you're MORE, you can't be convinced to bow down and genuflect to the political or financial or military prowess of another man.

Power hates magic.

Which is why, even on this day of mourning, we have people calling him names and spitting on his legacy.

Which is so sad. Because, if those people could actually open their hearts enough to hear the music, maybe they'd remember that they, themselves, are also MORE than a title or a weapon or a dollar bill.

I'm grateful for living at a time where I could witness magic.

Michael Jackson has stepped back into eternity.

Thanks for the visit, MJ. And bless you.

Full of Wonder

Earlier this fall, I went to see Christopher Nolan's new film, The Prestige. And, while I was slightly dissappointed by the over-all execution of the story (I HATE it when I can figure out the big twist about 45 minutes before it's actually revealed), I was suitably impressed with the quality of the actual production and the excellent performances.

But, as usual, the thing that stuck out the most in my mind from the film was it's perspective on magic.

I think magic is something that's often misunderstood, both in it's execution and purpose.

About a year ago, I had the opportunity to visit The Magic Castle, a semi-private club for magicians in hills above Hollywood Boulevard. While it's primarily a social setting for stage magicians, they also offer nightly shows all all sorts to the public on a limited basis. In the course of a single night, one guy produce live birds from his sleeves, another made my friend's drivers license fly like a helicopter blade, and, in the night's highlight for me, a 19-year-old kid conjured a car battery seemingly from thin air.

Of course, all throughout the night, several folks in our party were twisting themselves into knots trying to figure out the mechanics of how these magicians pulled off these tricks.

Which, in my opinion, totally misses the point.

When we see something extraordinary, something that seems to defy our average, everyday conception of how the so-called "real" world is supposed to work, we're given an opportunity to surrender to the experience and just bask in the glory and wisdom that there is so much more beyond the average and everyday.

Magic is meant to help us remember that, as the Bard once wrote, "there is more in heaven and earth than is dreamt of in our philosophy, Horatio".

There's that word again. :-)

Magic is there to remind us that there is MORE.

So, while those of us without little children in the house slept a little later, the greatest magic trick of all was being pulled off in houses and living rooms all around the world.

Millions of children went to bed, but did not sleep, because they knew that, in a few hours, their faith in the unseen & the miraculous would be renewed once more.

But let's also not forget all those millions of parents who've been deputized as magicians for a day. Because the joy of the little ones as they find that new Tonka Trick or Tickle-Me Elmo or PS3 under the old artificial tree, I dare say, pales in comparison to the joy of the temporary Santa Clauses of the world.

Because Santa is really more of a title than a person: a cross-cultural transliteration for Jesus - the ultimate deliverer of the ultimate gift in the Christian mythology.

And, as Brother Farrakhan reminded me, we Christians are called to be like Christ. And being Christ-like, in my opinion, has far less to do with being a martyr or an evangelist.

Above all else, Christ is generous.

And when we assume that role, and give a small bit of ourselves to another, make our love tangible, if even for a moment, we receive something back that is intangible, and, ultimately, invaluable.

That's magic.

That's Christmas.

So stop surfing the internet for a bit. :-)

Go out and make some wonder happen.

Happy Holidays.