The Filth s/c back

All thirteen issues in a single volume of full-colour mentalism.

This might be the story of cat-loving, porn-perusing, lonely old Greg Feely living in a flat with criminal '70s furnishing. Or it could be that of Ned Slade, for whom Greg is just a parapersonality when he's not maintaining Status Q as the top operative in the extradimensional clean-up squad known as The Hand.

Regardless, this is THE FILTH, a book bulging with sex, sensory overloads, warped worlds, infectious ideas, fourth walls, monomania, Nazi dolphins, a full-mouthed Communist Chimp, an agent with an accent all but incomprehensible for those not reared in south-west Scotland, and some slightly bewildered policemen.

There was a two-page review in a COMICS JOURNAL published just before I wrote this which I considered plagiarising to make myself look halfway intelligent Fortunately I didn't understand it.

I can, however, promise you a far more focussed book than the INVISIBLES and some astonishingly detailed, bulbous and sordid art from Mr. Chris Weston who constantly impresses with his ability to bring Grant's mind-fucking concepts to life. He deserves an Eisner just for keeping up.

Lastly, as if you need an added incentive: giant, flying spermatozoa. Excellent.