Saturday 14 March 1998 — Hollywood Burger Bar

Moving into my new house—well, everything's moved in, but in a shambles—in boxes—a state that usually takes months for me to get out of—if ever. Of course I hadn't moved for three and a half years, but it seems like yesterday. I'm still, at this point, determined to get everything in the room, and the house—all my stuff, in absolute working order and complete organization! I can do it too, but I'll have to be clever, and it won't happen over night. I need some good solid weekend days all day—and right now the NCAA Tournament is on, so that will either be a hindrance or a good thing—to keep me from being depressed. I like to have basketball on when I'm working on stuff—but those first two days are really intense—my favorite two days of the tournament—the first round—32 games in two days!

Heather and I went over to Cinema 21 on Thursday and saw an old Frank Capra movie from 1933—The Bitter Tea of General Yen—probably one of the more obscure and weird Capra movies, but also one of the more complex and best. Things really haven't changed in Hollywood since, say the beginning of sound in 1927 or so—in 70 years! Things haven't really changed very much at all. It's a diabolically in-place system—I guess anything that is so immensely successful creates an enormous monolith of itself that contains the blueprint and the rules, the ten commandments and the holy grail. You know all that. The actual, appropriate metaphor eludes me. Better movies being made from popular but not very good books of the day. The really good movies being ignored.

I like that monolith—like the one in 2001: A Space Odyssey. As a symbol for whatever—it almost doesn't matter. I guess if the monolith is in a movie it should represent the cinema. Or Hollywood (not the same thing). I know—I'll put that damn monolith in everything I do—from now on! It'll represent whatever stupid system that's currently in place that I have to work against, chip away just so I can piss on it. In writing, in movies, in art—the monolith will appear. But not always in black rectangular form, of course—I'm not sure in what form—but that will be dictated by the art form (as in visual art—painting, etc.—the monolith is the four-sided, rectangular frame of the visual piece). (This is all very much coffee thinking!) This is a milestone ***** make a note, mark it here.