Simon Barrett is a working Screenwriter. I could run through his filmography but I will not. You know how to Google. But I will say FRANKENFISH.
We’ve known each other for a few years. Used to meet at the MythHacks dinners. Basically the poor man’s writer version of the Masters of Horror. We’re not close. We’ve never worked together. Never shared warm showers or chocolate bars. He’s a smart ass and likely the hardest working screenwriter I know. If he isn’t writing he’s shooting. If he isn’t shooting he’s watching movies.
And tonight he’s Occupying Los Angeles.
I sort of glanced at Walking Dead tonight but what I really did was watch Simon Occupy. Following are the events via Twitter. Unlike Twitter, read top to bottom and ignore timestamps as I was grabbing screenshots sometimes out of order.
And remember, if you make less than 400 thousand dollars a year, then @simon_barrett is standing on a wall tonight. For you. Whether you are smart enough to understand why or not.
I still don’t understand why so many conservatives think the occupy movement is bad. I say this as a fella who’s conservative much of the time. I voted for Bush. Twice. I pay my taxes. That’s because I don’t make enough to hide my profits offshore. In fact, I pay more in taxes than alot of people make all year. Well… depending on how crappy the year is and these days… yeesh. But the point is…
Biggest trick filthy rich white people ever pulled was convincing broke people to starve and die for them.
My father-in-law had cancer. He was given the wrong dosage of chemo. He died. Three months after Izzie Rain was born. The bank foreclosed on their house. My mother-in-law came to live with us. In our two bedroom apartment. The bank that foreclosed showed a profit of over 800 million, paid no taxes and received billions in bailout money. That same year I paid 42 thousand in taxes.
Figures. I was hoping for an exciting 3rd act involving Barrett saving 99.5 percent of the world’s population with a half burnt candle, a half eaten donut and a light chasing dog… wait. This just in.
It’s barking up 4am. Barrett’s gone quiet. He’s likely saving his battery, or he’s asleep. Could be dead. Could be banging a hippie. It’s hard to know.
It’s 4:20am. Poured another long island. Yeah. I like to drink alone. Read the pages I wrote today. LOVE them. Which means they’ll never sell. Or will be force rewritten by jackoffs who don’t have a clue what they’re saying.
Too tired to look at porn. Again. Twitter’s gone silent.
4:31am. I’m fading. I’m old. I feel… thin. Sort of stretched, like… bread scraped over too much butter. I need a holiday. A very long holiday. And I don’t expect I shall return. Until like 10am.
4:45am. I have to pee.
I’m peeing. And I’m sitting down. Because I’ve come to the conclusion that as we near 5am of an allnighter we should all pee in the Queen’s proper. Meanwhile Amazon is telling me that The Devil’s Double blu is on sale. No thank you Lions Gate. I’d rather buy My Bloody Valentine part II on blu. Buttholes.
11 minutes until possible 5am eviction.
You should get your money out of the bigger banks. Look at local credit unions. Big banks don’t care about your community. Remember, it’s your money. Your community.
And nothing did.