In 2003, I heard one of my screenwriting professor’s pet theories about Los Angeles. He believed the true state religion in America is celebrity deification and LA is essentially Mount Olympus but mere mortals can go there, often with little more than a dream, and get a chance to actually see a Zeus in person. Or maybe take an Athena’s burger order. Or get f*cked in every possible negative and positive way by Gods and demigods and all manner of mythical creatures who view these bereft dreamers as little more than chattel and often treat them with less consideration than they offer to their designer pets.
Kate Mitchell and her family just don’t want to pray at that altar. And this is ‘Murica and while we have our civic obligations, we don’t have to kneel to any motherf*cking religion if we don’t want to.
I’ve inspired myself to go buy a Kaepernick jersey or donate to one of the causes he champions. The giants might walk by me without even noticing me but maybe helping my favorite demigod will somehow piss them off even if it’s only for a millisecond.
“A journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step.”
Man I am a ponderous and verbose f*ck. But, hey, I gotta do me.