24:00:01 - I HVAE STIL... - Ray Wonsowski

Layout:
1122
3344
5566

Setting: Providence, RI Amtrak Station (see photo references here). There is a flapboard still working there, but feel free to reposition it if that fits the need...

Panel 1- sitting on one of the benches, leaning against his duffle on one end, is LEN CARTER, 40ish, a little paunchy, starting to lose his hair, but looks like he's trying to keep himself together. Dressed in a Hawaiian shirt, khakis, and running shoes, glasses on his nose. He is regarding a plain white envelope, weighing it in his hands. It looks torn in one end. One or two people are milling around him; a businessman carrying a briefcase talking on his cell, a young athletic woman in fashionable spandex jogging wear with a rolling suitcase, waiting. A homeless man sleeps on the floor at the bottom edge of the panel. Flapboard behind him reads: ARKHAM, MASS - 23:59:59

CAPTION: Dear Leonard Carter

CAPTION: Re: Randolph Carter, deceased

Panel 2- Same as above, but LEN has unfolded a letter, holding the envelope behind it, which looks heavy on the unopened end. A mushroom has sprouted out of the homeless man's ear.  Flapboard reads: I HVAE STIL - 24:00:00

CAPTION: I am pleased to advise that we have now completed the administration of your grandfather’s estate.

Panel 3- same as above, but LEN, letter open in his lap, tilts the envelope with one hand, spilling a large antique brilliant silver key into his other. More mushrooms are growing out of the homeless man's hair and clothes. The woman has sat on the other end of Len's bench, suitcase between her knees. The businessman is walking away.  Flapboard reads: NOT RSEOLEVD IT - 24:00:01

CAPTION: I hereby enclose this silver key, representing the sum total of the inheritance due to you.

Panel 4- same as above, with LEN shoving the letter back in his duffle, key still in his hand. The woman notices him, but LEN is unaware of her. The sleeping homeless man is now covered in fungi.  Flapboard reads: IN MY DRAEMS - 24:00:02

CAPTION: I would be grateful if you could sign and return the enclosed form to acknowledge its safe receipt. Sincerely, Hap Akeley, Esq.

Panel 5- same as above, except LEN has sprawled in his seat, head back, legs out, one arm on the bench back, the other hand holding the large silver key to his face. The fungal man has sporulated. The woman, looking at Len, licking her lips, unzips her running jacket to her navel, the sliver of revealed skin suggests that she's naked underneath. In the deep background, we see Morpheus from the Sandman walking with Morpheus from the Matrix in conversation.  Flapboard reads: FTHAGN - 24:00:03

CAPTION: Didn't even know I had a Grandpa Randolph. Jesus.

Panel 6- same as above, except the hand holding the key is now resting on his lap; LEN is now asleep. The sporulated form has now become a Mi-go (see here); the woman has also changed into a Mi-go, but still in the jogging suit somehow. The angles of the walls are starting to look wrong.  Flapboard reads: £T#@?&!π)(=%-# -  25:00:02

CAPTION: What the hell am I supposed to do with a silver key?

LEN: zzz

CAPTION: ...

24:00:01 – Subtextual – MK Stangeland Jr.

(6 Panels)

Panel 1: THE QUESTION (VIC SAGE) stands on a rooftop overlooking a prominently displayed BILLBOARD designed as an art piece in the style of 24:00:01.

QUESTION (1): People throw a lot of theories at novelty pieces.

QUESTION (2): Most do it for the mere novelty of the idea.

QUESTION (3): Some even like to see what ideas stick.

Panel 2: The BILLBOARD – half of it is made up of panels that, when combined together, form an image of THE QUESTION’S face. Ideally, it should be done in a way that suggests this is a ‘reflection’ of QUESTION looking and concentrating on the BILLBOARD.

QUESTION (1): Sometimes it’s the least novel ideas that have the most merit.

QUESTION (2): Such as the idea that this particular piece merely has a hidden message.

Panel 3: A continuation of PANEL 2. The BILLBOARD now has the words ‘THE END’ on it.

QUESTION: The real trick is taking the least novel suggestion and finding the novelty behind it.

Panel 4: Continuation of PANEL 3. The words on the BILLBOARD now read ‘T END S COMING’.

QUESTION: Like a message hidden inside a hidden message.

Panel 5: HUNTRESS (HELENA BERTINELLI) stands next to QUESTION, looking at him.

Panel 6: Continuation of PANEL 5.

HUNTRESS: Who are you talking to?

QUESTION (1): You’re not asking the right question.

QUESTION (2): What you should be asking is…

QUESTION (3): …‘Who am I not talking to’?

(END PAGE)

24:00:01 - Fear Fear Itself - P.A. Nolte

1/ An elderly man in a dusty, old recliner sits in front of his rabbit-eared television. Whether this is period, or the man is just THAT hard-up is uncertain. He turns the TV on.

SFX: click

2/ The screen shows a car wreck. A nasty affair on a modern thoroughfare with seven or eight vehicles in a nasty pile of twisted metal, dripping fluids, and just extinguished flames. 

TV: --on 435 this morning. Three people were hospitalized. No word yet on the cause of the accident, but local police-- 

Man (OP): No. 

SFX: click 

3/ The screen flickers to show a reporter in a war-torn country. The buildings behind are hollow shells. The locals no longer rush to be on camera. These people can't/won't do anything to really help them, and they know it. 

Reporter: --seen interference in the city's pro-democracy protests from outside forces and called on international journalists to report-- 

Man (OP): No. 

SFX: click 

4/ We look again at the man. Closer, this time, but mostly unchanged. The light from the TV bathes him in eerie light. 

TV (OP):  --it always knows the flavor of fruit, wherever it grows! Now with--

5/ The man looks to his right. On the table beside him is a small, framed photograph of a woman. Behind that, the door, but it's not the focus. 

6/ This time, it is, and the photo and the table are eclipsed by how imposing an ordinary front door can be. 

7/ The man returns his attention to the TV. 

SFX: click

TV (OP): --stabbed in the leg near Rivermonte Cemetary and South Avenue. Suspects fled, and police were forced to erect a perimeter in an effort to--

24:00:01 - I LOOK OUT AND WAIT - Grant McLaughlin

1 - Night time.  Two figures sit on a platform of some kind (perhaps a billboard or the standing area of a water tower), looking out over the lights of the city before them (although the city is unseen in this panel as the focus is on the two figures).  Let's say the two figures are in silhouette.

SPEAKER: I used to come out here all the time.

2 - Pull further back.  The two figures are still visible, but the focus is now the lights of the city before them (as mentioned last panel).

SPEAKER: I'd look out and wonder where my place was in the world.

3 - Pull even further back.  The area where the two figures are is much smaller, but still findable on the panel.  The lights of the city before (and perhaps around) them are taking up the panel, but it's not really possible to make out details - it's a sea of light.

SPEAKER: I stopped coming eventually.

4 - Further back once again.  Even the light of the city is fading a bit at this distance - perhaps an island or two of light from other urban areas can be seen in the dark.  Your call.

SPEAKER (tailless): But I never stopped wondering.

Why 24:00:01?

In this instance, perhaps the more relevant question would be what is 24:00:01.  Well, I'm mighty glad you asked, dear reader.  24:00:01 is an art piece by Indian artist Shilpa Gupta that I encountered late last year at the Louisiana Museum of Modern Art outside Copenhagen.  In its most basic sense, it is a motion flapboard (similar to what you used to see at airports or railway stations) that, instead of listing future arrivals and departures, gradually tells a story (or multiple stories) over time as it rotate through its various letters and sentences.  The letters it displays are sometimes just as important as the ones it does not, just as the time in between phrases can be rife with meaning.  I'll admit that it's a little challenging to explain with words, which is why I've ferreted out a YouTube video showing a small portion of the installation.

It's like no other narrative I've ever encountered.  The way the board madly scrolls through the letters, slowly revealing the hidden meaning within fascinates me.  It's all the more entrancing because it happens again and again and again, gradually uncovering a new piece of the story with each new sentence.  Whether each new snippet adds up to one grand telling or many smaller tales is partly a question of interpretation.  It is something that raises questions and resists traditional definition, and while that might sound a tad pretentious, I think it what make really worthwhile and challenging art.  The whole thing has been bouncing around my head ever since I laid eyes upon it those many months ago and I don't think it's going away any time soon.

Therefore, with the new picking system we've put into place, I thought I'd throw out the challenge to myself and anyone else who wants to give it a try to find a way to translate this work of art into our more familiar comic book medium.  You're welcome to work directly off that video, or if you'd like a little more information on 24:00:01, you can find it at Shilpa Gupta's website (including the piece's full script).

I recognize that this is a somewhat unorthodox selection, but I think that is only going to make the various interpretations we see this week all the more interesting.

As always, you're more than welcome to try your hand at it by posting your scripts to the comments for this very post.