And what comes from back East?

1st: Pinkertons at first, looking around, asking questions, putting up posters, followed very quickly by
2nd: KKK, going through the Italian quarter and burning buildings, beating up guys, looking for the brothers. One of them loses his hood: it’s really the Pinkertons.
3rd: The US Army, looking for suspected anarchists. Carlo catches someone to find this out and is shocked: ‘Anarchy?! I LEFT Italy to get away from anarchy! I love laws and rules, I just want to get a chance to use them.’ So they hide, maybe pull a Butch and Sundance?
4th: ?
5th: Cortland and someone is going to die.

And this is the point where I really should sacrifice a hundred oxen in thanks.


Because I think I’ve solved the problem. I think I have figured out how to get this movie to be a MOVIE. It’s not going to be easy, I can see that. But I just felt my body relax when I finished writing that second part. That’s the way to go. News from a distance, a threat the way the THREATENED sees it. It just shows up to hit you in the face.

Man, I’d like to be up there.

Went to the Nicholl Fellowships awards ceremony and live reading at the Goldwyn Theater. Yes, the one for the Academy. I’ll put up the pictures I got before I was firmly reminded that there’d be no photography.

Four readings. Three of them…I was…okay, they were good, but they sounded like the same kind of lovey-dovey clap-trap that you’d hear in any standard feature. Interesting premises? A scientist breaks up with his wife and then she finds out she has cancer and they swear at each other. Mm hm, okay.

In a future where one can buy immortality, a grown man has chosen to take a job where he will appear to be a twelve year old boy forever, so he can work ¬†as the ‘son’ for a couple who haven’t gotten permission to have their own child yet. Well, that’s…different…

And the loo loo of the evening. A shy woman who makes cellos sends one to a younger dashing cello player. In the box, she includes a journal to the cello player about how she built the cello and why she sent it to him; kind of a love letter. The cello player gets the cello, plays it, becomes famous, but doesn’t find the journal.


and then he finds it and writes back.




I mean it was charming, 80 year old woman getting all hot and bothered by a love letter from the cello player who’s now 60ish…but COME ON.

And then there was…’The United States of Fucking Awesome’. George Washington and Thomas Jefferson have finished the Declaration of Independence. They give it to Ben Franklin to hold onto it. He takes it to a brothel and during a night of passion with a hooker, it gets stolen. The names of all the rebel leaders are right there on it and the if the British get hold of it, every one of them is as good as dead.

And Ben Franklin wouldn’t put his pants on as he was discussing the situation. F-ing hilarious. The other three? I don’t think we need to worry about casting for those any time soon, but that one? I’ll be first in line for tickets.

After, on the way out, I see one of the winners. I go over, offer my hand to shake. ‘For luck,’ I say. he smiles and shakes. The guy next to him is one of the actors who did the read; the star of ‘Unbroken’, Jack O’Connell. I shake his hand, tell him he did a great job and i can’t wait for his movie to come out.

“Likewise,” he says to me.

Ah, those Brits. I turned back, told him I got that and headed home.


I don’t have much, but I’d love to be on that stage.

You can’t buy getting on that stage.

Okay, so it kind of came to me in a dream state. Genetti.

They get to L.A….and the city is full of Edison refugees and escapees, people who have run afoul of Edison back East and came out here. Some want to go back, some are willing to sell out the other refugees if it means they can get back into Edison’s good graces. Most of them? HATE THE OLD MAN.

So let’s say Primo has the loop.

and let’s say that a Jewish fellow has figured out a way to do something else

and a strange Serbian man, no, not Tesla, like tesla? sure, has figured out how to focus the light from Edison’s bulbs and project the film onto a screen.

All of a sudden, things are possible.

And Primo? Primo becomes the first producer; he has to get all of them to work together AND stay one step ahead of the rats who will sell him out to Edison AND one step ahead of Edison’s man in California who really is more interested in electrifying the world…and maybe he’s the one who wants Kate. Yep, kate still there, knows the Bible, young Katherine Heigel.

Ah, 4 days off.

and it’s been nice. Yesterday, I don’t think I did ONE PRODUCTIVE THING. Oh, I washed some clothes and made a list, that’s it. Very relaxing.

Friday: went to Hollywood with Donna to get tickets to a few shows -wow, I am lucky to live here; ‘hey, let’s drive to the Pantages and get tickets for ‘Wicked’ why not?’. Then went to a Mexican place and listened to a sharpy in the next booth making HUGE PLANS with the inventor of some new Segway-like device ‘see, if we can get Taylor Swift to ride one out onto stage? Or Katy Perry? Maybe both!’ and then he stood up and gadzooks, that man had a bad toupee. Wow. Wow, vanity, why did you hit that poor man so hard? Then I went to my homecoming game and walked around, said hi to the nice kids, etc.

Saturday: went to see ‘Interstellar’. Beautiful movie….that made no sense and was just so incredibly absurd on so many levels. I left ‘Inception’ with my mouth hanging open. I left this with a puzzled look on my face. I guess I’m still processing it all.

Sunday: rested and then drove to Ventura to see the Dropkick Murphys. Got there at 7 and they went on at 10! 10! Two opening acts. Ah, the Irish. I had one drink, a red bull and vodka that was so strong I was afraid of having another. Very mixed crowd, old and young and I think quite a few people who weren’t there for the music, just wanted to check off a button on their hipster coolness list ‘yeah, went to see the Murphys, Sunday night, y’know, hey’…the number of people TAKING SELFIES WHILE PRETENDING THEY WERE DISGUSTED WITH THE PERSON TAKING THE PICTURE.



Especially the guy with the mohawk. Dude: selfies lower your testosterone by 43%.

When the band came on, we went down close to the stage. Much drunken dancing around me. The mosh pit started and Rey’s there next to me…Rey’s there, okay…I look over- and he’s gone.

I look into the mosh pit and there’s the apple of my eye being swirled around by sweaty drunks and having the time of his life. I got down there, gauging the mood…he was okay, nobody taking cheap shots or punching random people. I pull him out and then shrugged and jumped in myself.


And I had forgotten, after all the punching and sloshing and elbows: everybody hugs. There was this one guy, very drunk, Popeye the sailor lookalike, watching out for him- he really wanted to find someone to punch, kept going in low when people weren’t looking, and I tried to stay between him and Rey. All was well. At the end Rey helped drunks find the shoes they’d lost and we had Thai food in Hollywood. Got home at 2.