03-15-2015
Ms. Thomas
–
As I told
the first SLU voice on the phone, I was a graduate student when the fountains
and corny clock tower were built. I lost my 4.0 due to a mysterious computer
crash, but the paper was later published in Boston. Then, I began work on a
book from which I cannot show you one page. A dozen agents received a chapter.
Three publishers received an entire manuscript. An agent in Florida stated “I
really enjoyed it. It’s publishable.” And? He closed his agency and started
selling mansions by Mr. Trump’s place for Richard Blum.
My late
father said, “Have you heard of Richard Blum?” I said, “I know the Blum
family.” That’s all that was said at 9185-A Heritage Drive. The product is
called “intellectual property,” and I’ve got some for sale. Seems to me after I
finished Book #2 on national security, I wrote to every law professor in town.
What was the request? “I need a lawyer.” One brave SLU professor wrote back and
said, “I no longer practice that type of law.” That was 2005, and I know what
the date is today. That manuscript has also been stolen, but I could show you
some pages.
Screenplays?
They steal it off the Microsoft software. They steal it at the screenwriting
software company. They steal it at the Writer’s Guild of America. They steal
the paper pages. Later, the movie is released without your name on the screen.
That’s Hollywood the hard way, and sir, I’ve lived it. The Sheriff stole my
screenplay? Absolutely true, and if I were running for office, I’d be hoarse
like Hillary yelling what?
No rights!
No law!
No
justice! (Unless you have MONEY)
Why not
come out of your Ivory Tower and see hundreds of LA homeless lying in the rain?
They carry a poncho, I did not. How about a local legal “beef?”
A Saint
Louis County Police captain threatened me physically on an answering machine
tape, He stalked me. I called the late St. Louis attorney Don Wolf. He said,
“File a complaint.” I called Charles Edward Hughes. He said, “Talk it over with
my cop buddy,” and that is what I did. What happened next, professor? The same
cop showed up to yell at me like a nut at 7777 Watson Road in 2013, and I’d
like him arrested and prosecuted.
Too much
to ask of the legal system? Might as well vote for “OBL” if he’s still alive. My
convenience store manager thinks the “terrorist” construction company owner died
at the Mayo Clinic with an assist from the Bush family. And? I believe his
story, because we were not shown a dead body, as with Che. He further claims to
know an eyewitness who was hustled out of the clinic by goons after seeing a
dying Osama.
Back to
the nutty cop, I called the county government in an effort to recall the
Captain’s NAME. No, he has “disappeared,” as have all my so-called “friends.” However,
I do remember the name of Charlie’s “cop buddy.” What did I yell at the ex-cop on
the other side of Watson Road? “Got a gun? Shoot me!” Would you do that? I
think retired cops are allowed to have a gun, are they not? When does this
idiot go to jail?
Circling
back to the movie business, I called an associate I’ll refer to as, “The MGM
Girl.” She said, “Are you here?” (Los Angeles). I said, “No, I’m still in Saint
Louis.” With people nearby at her JOB, she muttered, “Could you speed it up,
please?” In this town? No comprehension of the entertainment industry, I here
allege. I’m telling you in writing that when you call a big-time Hollywood
producer’s office and get the update on who quit, who was hired, their
location, and the new e-mail addresses, this means THE GUY WANTS YOUR
SCREENPLAY, and what did the maternal uncles say in 1961? “Get a good
cinematographer” because they could foresee that by the time my deal came
along, I’d be old and not know what the hell I’m doing as a way older than
average movie director.
Jimmy E.’s
phone no longer works, but in downtown LA he said, “Hughes, they know what they
are doing. Just sit back in that chair and relax” (Meaning the crew &
director’s chair). Would an old high school associate bring me a copy of “The
Aviator” to see a certain woman’s NAME in the credits? Oh no! Can’t do that,
because you have to believe my story, which is that she sat next to me and
drank coffee, but not without saying, “We’re below the line and trying to
help.” Four (4) years later, I’d see her swinging a microphone boom over
DiCaprio’s head. This could cause bloodshed if I’m a Trump supporting, gun-slinging
type. I am not. The joke not for this Zip Code is: “I’m so bored, I wrote a
Western.”
Here’s the
“pitch,” and I really, really really, could use some help from a Goddamn
lawyer:
The graves of
F-Troop writers will rumble as JORGE RIO rides into town. He’s a Mexican
gunslinger who implausibly gets himself elected Sheriff in 1855 Texas. His
rather topical problem is he forged all of his relevant identity documents, yet
he wears the white hat. Watch as bad guy after bad guy says, “He ain’t no
American” and gets blown away. You see, Jorge has toys like on the Wild, Wild
West TV show, and as for the wisecracking alcoholic Irish Army General who
brings many troops and rifles to side with an illegal…counting the profits yet?
Our Preacher also pitches-in with a large handgun beneath the frock. That line
is: “I keep it right next to my Bible.” BANG! BANG!
William
C. Hughes, MSW
