Some people go to the movies just to pass time. Others go to the movies with a date, a love interest; and they might hope to kiss this companion or hold hands with them in the theatre. I imagine also that some people go to the movies in order to escape from whoever is chasing them, like for instance the local police, the Federal Bureau of Investigation (F.B.I.), or any one of many “intelligence” agencies: perhaps they know that you stole your bikini from a manikin…
So the idea is that you buy a movie ticket and lay low in the theatre until the cops give up their search. The lighting is dim here, because moving images—motion pictures—are being projected on the screen. You can even purchase soda pop with buttered popcorn served in a sizeable tub.
Some people don’t like crowds, so they choose to stay home and watch TV in the privacy of an apartment. If you take this route, you might wind up getting hooked on a program that runs for multiple episodes—this is called a “series” show. Some of these types of shows feature police officers among their cast of characters.
In times past, people would routinely communicate with their loved ones by typing messages into an oblong touch-pad that served as an interface, like a television or computer monitor; this type of screen presents its visions by glowing from within, whereas a movie screen (also known as the silver screen) is like an immaculate bedsheet upon which images are inflicted from a distanced projector.
I recently saw a photo of a number of people occupying a street in Guatemala. They were all either walking or standing, except one who was riding a bicycle. The picture was taken sometime prior to 1950; I know this because the encyclopedia that contained it was published in that year. What struck me about the image is that everyone in it—even the middle-aged bicyclist—was wearing a suit with a hat. And I swear to Jove that there was not one car in sight. (I don’t mean to imply anything by mentioning this; I’m only reporting what I saw.)
Because I was worried that I might misspell the name Guatemala, I researched the place by typing it into an online search engine, and the first result to appear contained a headline that alarmed me enough to make me want to copy it here in my diary. It said:
Three people are dead following the collapse of a massive slope of trash at a garbage dump.