August 8, 2001
Idea for a play:
INTERVIEWER: And what do you have on this shelf?
CHARACTER: This is my Sam Neill shelf. I have all of his movies.
INTERVIEWER: Mm. You don't have them organized alphabetically...
INTERVIEWER: By release date?
INTERVIEWER: By genre...
CHARACTER: Getting warmer...
INTERVIEWER: I give up.
CHARACTER: They're organized by accent! In this one, Sam plays an Australian. That's easy for him, because that's where he comes from. I put those ones first. Then I put the ones where he's just some American. After that are the ones where they cast him as an English guy, an Irish guy, so on and so forth.
INTERVIEWER: And what's this one at the end?
CHARACTER: Oh! That's a soft-core porn film he did early in his career. For some reason, he's Ukrainian in it. I thought about filing it under 'L', though, if you know what I mean...
INTERVIEWER: I have no idea.
CHARACTER: For the language of love!
INTERVIEWER: Please don't touch me.
I don't know what happens from there. I think the neighborhood association might petition to have the character evicted, and then homelessness and the struggle of keeping the movies in order would come in, so that might be compelling stuff. Can I get Sam Neill for the end? Only if he doesn't demand script control. And he agrees to do a French accent.
The employment agency called today. The phone was out of reach of the area in which the fan was blowing, so I didn't pick it up, but according to the answering machine message, they had some computer job they were hoping I might take. It's suspicious, because as far as they know, I'm still happily employed at the job I supposedly left Beelzetron for several weeks ago. I think they know that Beelzetron, powerful multinational consulting firm that it is, slapped a blacklist down on my name and that's why I can't get a job anywhere, and they figure I'm at the breaking point right about now. Yeah, well, I'm fine. I've got a bed, and a Christmas tree, in my head.
I am very good at being unemployed. Guys who are unemployed are always talking about going to Free Days at museums, but they never do it because they're trapped in the inactive malaise of unemployment. Well, I did it, so I'm great. The Art Institute has a very nice exhibit of late Edward Weston photographs on right now. Mostly it's just fun to walk around with a friend and horrify tourists with our comments. Hey, I worked in a museum. I have the right, just like Snoop can do whatever he wants in Compton.
I think there should be a law that they have to play some decent music every once in a while. And also, no more dirty hippies. I'm sick of those guys. And a sandwich, while you're up. Thanks.