Went out for a drink with Ethan at the Empire Tap Room on Emerson Street. He said, “There is no center to the Valley in any real sense of the word. There is no one watching; it’s pretty, but it’s a vacuum; a kingdom of a thousand princes but no kings.”

I know what he’s talking about—the deficit of visionaries—the center-less boredom of Valley life. I mean, if I really think about it, Valley people work and sleep—work and sleep and work and sleep and somewhere along the line the dream border is blurred. It’s as if there is a collective decision to disfavor a Godhead. It’s not despair; they just want the Real Thing. The Beast.