LA Weekly from Los Angeles, California • 33

Hollywood continued from page 31 in for a vicious pasting, its agents. Listening to agent jokes, you think of the old line about early ad men: They owed their lives chiefly to the fact that there was a law against killing them. When Jack returned, home he found that all that remained of his house was the charred foundation. He jumped from his car and stopped a neighbor to enquire as to what on earth had happened. Your agent stopped by, raped your wife and tore your children limb from limb, then locked them inside and torched the building.

He just left. Jack stares at the neighbor with incredulity in his eyes: My agent came to my house? A cannibal walks into a butcher shop looking for brains. Take your pick, says the butcher. Philosophers' brains, $200 a pound; lawyers' brains, $150 a pound; and a special on UCLA graduates' brains, $75 a pound. Hmm muses the cannibal.

What about those brains there? Those are agents' brains. Agents' brains? How much? Five hundred dollars a pound. Five hundred dollars a pound for agents' brains? exclaims the cannibal. That's ludicrous! Hey! says the butcher. Do you have any idea how many agents it takes to get one pound of brains? A dying man lies in a hospital desperately waiting for a heart donor.

At last his physician rushes in with wonderful news. We have two donors! But you must choose quickly between the heart of a 19-year-old Olympic athlete and the heart of a 76-year-old Hollywood agent. Without hesitation the patient decides to take the heart from the agent. The operation is a success, and later the doctor visits his patient. We didnt have time to discuss it earlier, but I'm curious to know why you chose the heart of a 76-year-old Hollywood agent over the heart of a 19-year-old Olympic athlete I'm no fool, replies the patient.

I wanted a heart that had never been used. Only three finalists remain in the Dog of the Decade competition, an architects dog, an engineer's dog and an agents dog. Each is given a heap of bones and five minutes to impress the judges. The architect's dog leaps into action and within moments has created a facsimile of the Empire State Building, made entirely of bones. Not to be outdone, the engineer's dog within seconds constructs an impressive rendering of the Brooklyn Bridge.

The agent's dog casts an eye over the three sets of bones, eats them all, fucks the other two dogs and leaves without saying goodbye. Are agents hated as much as these jokes suggest? Is it a hatred of the middleman? (Do manufacturers and retailers tell jokes about wholesalers? Seriously, Id like to know.) Or are agents merely convenient scapegoats in times of failure? We may bitch about producers poisoning our ideas, of deals that are never consummated, of egos that trample our humanity, but when the phone doesnt ring or when the brilliant idea is rejected, who can we blame but our agents? IMOFHCMY AUItlORIZFPTO IMPOUND YOUR LIRF. 1 AlVt 'I I Hf tP 'H T', Pt '0 OVD t(rt j-lbUKn II Mb A rRp I A THIN 'H 8t VRRS lOCVCJMl 0 rn KjsPMi AK.P pji iiAr vj (hist vr VP HhC A VP "MLI. YOIIP BiG IT Bt 1 i VALkntmrt) Pa yvi fVYove 1 if. jX Ni A LCN HNfc KHIZC- aw ae i'vf'1 8VHdOT l'A I i HATV 'rj rr i Indulge Your Valentine ISlfLOveTI I'D IKE TO WCIUD1 VOU IN MV RESEARCH ON MY THESIS, ENTITLED.

nn bile Hollywood jokes may I tell us a lot about the current yJVJ state of the business and the attitudes of its participants, they are equally revealing in what they don't talk about. I have already observed that there are few jokes about directors, and have rarely heard any about actors, unless you include the one about the actress of (your choice of ethnic group) origin who wanted to get ahead in Hollywood. (She slept with a screenwriter.) Funniest of all is the glaring invisibility of jokes about money. No gags about multi-million-dollar flops, houses in the hills, underpaid Latino maids, silly sports cars, luxury health clinics or expense-account gourmands. Not a squeak about the oodles that even writers make.

It is as if the industry were powered by thin air or sunshine, as if wed all migrated here just for the weather, or that somehow California had produced (through some smog-induced genetic mutation) an abundance of creative talent. Money? Whats that? I can only imagine that money is either taken for granted or received with acute embarrassment. Possibly both. This absence of moolah reveals a subtext to most of these jokes that movies are art the pure vision of artists, clouded by the pollution of business. Poor writers are reduced to when all they want to do is improve the world through the expression of truths and the example of beauty.

As Mother Teresa's interview with Barbara Walters comes to an end, it's time for a personal question: If you had one wish a personal, private wish what would it be? Without a moment's hesitation. Mother Teresa answers that she wotdd see an end to hunger and disease throughout the world. Yes, "simpers Barbara, that's laudable, but we knew that. I mean a wish just for you. Valentines Day is Friday, February 14th.

Celebrate by sending your Valentine a Paper Moon Card from Aahs! Paper Moon Cards are the most delicious, delightful, and humorous Valentines since Cupids arrow. Come to Aahs and see the large selection while they last. Aahs has great Valentine gifts jewelry, i CaV, ti. V-'U1- fr i JN TRYIWC TD K-Wt JIT aHAF T6 po with yocr HU' OPEN THIS CAP9 TCP SMf ETCITiHu ViWPNAh OPPOHUNiTil'i' Again without even blinking, Mother Teresa answers that she desires peace on earth forevermore. No, no, no! moans Barbara.

You don't understand my question. We know that you fervently believe in these altruistic aims, but we 'd like to hear something personal, some deep desire of yours. Well, replies Mother Teresa, I've always wanted to direct IS Santa Monica 3223 Wilshire Blvd 213829-1807 Sherman Oaks 14548 Ventura Blvd 818907-0300 Westwood 1083 Broxton Ave 213824-1688 West Hollywood 8878 Sunset Blvd. 213657-4221 I would like to give credit (or blame!) to the sources of these jokes, which were masterfully told to me by: Rita Azar (artist), Adam Brooks (writerdirector), Terry Cafaro (writer), Lisa Gottlieb (writer director), Nancy Lertaehan (actor), Mark Lipson (producer), Jack Slater (actorwriter), John Solomon (producer), Susan Tan (producer). May they all work again.

Jqzjls fotfOrtm, A WEEKLY January 31-February 6. 1986.