Men with brutal faces skyward. Leaping.

Women with perfect teeth. Much leaping.

Musculature choreographed to appear and disappear behind hair.

Women widening their eyes. Casting a significant glance.

Men flaring nostrils, setting their lips in a line.

Porous skin shining metallic in the glare (filters). Glints of hard late sunlight on flexing bodies.

She has a bright green praying mantis as a sidekick.

He wears leather goggles strung loosely around his neck. He has a loose casual lanky something.

Plans go back to the turn of the last century. Personal hygiene in the upper atmosphere.

Rene Desnos dying in concentration camp. [strike thru]

Capitol Provision Co. deliciosos pollos
CHAPALITA 2927 N. Broadway, L.A. 90031 232 222 4751 Riquisimos! Chapalita pollo rostizado 2 por 11.99 Open Daily 7 AM – 11 PM
It’s a carniceria where you walk in from the terrific glare of the sun to cooler dimness and you can see marinated chicken pollo picante and beef flap meat and other meat trays in the glass case to the left (which they sell mesquite charcoal in $3 per 7 pound sacks) alongside the drink cooler, while on the right side of the place, there’s another glass case and counter where for $4.99 you can get their half-chicken plate and the counterman will ask you if you want frijoles with that of course you do, they are nice watery smooth clean tasting like mountain stream water, even if mountain stream water has clean tasting moss and danger of giardia, these beans do not anyway he is asking you what kind of drink (soda, only soda) coca-cola so be it, served with orange rice and microwave baggie of eight corn tortillas for a total of $5.36 plus tax in styrofoam in a plastic bag, which you carry outside and eat at the metal shelf atop the railing on the concrete porch outside overlooking North Broadway, sitting on a torn barstool with a couple working guys in uniform chowing down in tacos from the little stand alongside the building, meanwhile the cholo in his saggy khaki shorts and white tank top showing off his smudged blueish tats from wrist to skull all over his body, he’s opened up his van to show off his family to his sister-in-law who chats with the sister and kids, and I see that the vato has carefully camouflaged himself as a gangster with shaved head and tats all over his body in order to protect his family, that’s why he dresses in those flat Vans shoes made in China, he’s not a real gangster he just wants to look tough to protect the family which he’s showing off to sister-in-law, the dude even has tats in different colors written over other tats, a sign of pure preparation and thoroughness and attention to detail right there. When the sister walks west on N. Broadway they take off, the workers finish tacos and split, across the street is Auto Parts Machine Shop a mechanic or helper hustles into, Big Saver Foods (kitty corner), Noel’s Hair Studio (empty), Francisco Fuscaldo M.D. office, video store (closed, gone probably), Titop Nails, El Pavo Bakeries, Liquor store. Pour roasted chile salsa on it. Chew that chicken down to the gristle Jack, it’s all good.

This movie allows for European styling touches in every scene. Art Deco, Danish, Bauhaus, Vienna School, etc.

Clock faces, gauges, instruments in the dashboard or control panel. Technical. Convenient. Priced for any budget.

Men with brutal faces, leaping skyward. Rising into the sky.

Women tossing hair. Looking over their shoulder, hip cocked.

Legs and arms akimbo. Tattered fabric flapping in stiff wind like flags.

Women with perfect teeth. Arched eyebrows, squints. Crinkly skin of desire.


Heaving breast. Clapping.  [strike thru]

Curtains rising or— [strike thru]

“Take this pistol. No, I want you to have it.”

“To think it could’ve turned out different—”

“Yes,” I said, “Isn’t it pretty to think so.”

People watching from balconies—

Parachutes descending thru clouds. Clouds whipping through guywires.

Wide landing fields like veritable open plains. Like steppes.

Women with strong shoulders, rising into the sky. Pert square or boyish shoulders.

Love interest gets a severe haircut? Occasioning a disturbance, setting off a gun battle? An aerial duel between air ships?

Stiff wind on the wardrobe. Coffee whipped out of the cup by wind, when you look down it’s empty [strike thru]

Love scene, misty moonlit wind blows out candles— [strike thru]

Love scene, roaring river far below vast as an inland sea, accidental fire— [strike thru]

“Only one parachute, you know what this means.” “No, you take it.” “No, you.” “No, you.” “Goodbye my dear.” (Jumps.) She straps on the parachute and leaps overboard to try to save him, plunging through the atmosphere. Will she reach him in time to pull the cord?

How come he didn’t think of that first? [strike thru]

Shadows of attacking ships emerging from cloudbank appear on the dirigibles below.

Crew choice when the ship goes down in flames: burn with the ship or leap to deaths. That’s the sad choice of duty (you knew what you were signing up for) and laying down your life for your fellow man in a world that is forever at war.

The running gag is the character always getting new tattoos. One day she’s covered in Japanese flowers, the next month it’s robots. She explains how to make new tattoos out of old by ingeniously redesigning and overwriting every one on a continuous basis.

Somebody save the praying mantis.