What is it about black holes that fascinate us little sets of states of energy?

My imagination plays tricks on me at 7:30 a.m. on a Friday morning on the seventh floor of a hotel near the St. Louis airport, while down below me construction crew members, smaller than ants, begin their workday on the local freeway.

A storyline starring Lee and Guin is in the side pathways of my thoughts as I block out time slots for the morning and afternoon to snap some still photographs and video shots to make a video short story about the vainglorious immoral unethical exploits of a black hole.

I had initially named the black hole the Might Blackholio in homage to a television “character” named the Great Cornholio but I’ve changed my mind, not having been a fan of Beavis and Butthead, just a coworker of a fan (an almostfan, like an almost-famous also-ran (but not mistaken for a Ran fan)).

Last night was an almostbreakthrough evening, my wife encouraging me to dance with other people and the two of us almost having fun together on the dance floor. I need to get my wife to show me what she wants rather than tell me — there’s nothing like talking or, rather, instructing your dance partner that does more to ruin a good mood in the middle of the fluidity of West Coast Swing dancing.

Our distance from a black hole gives us hundreds of millions of years of stability in our solar system.

What if a black hole could jump through spacetime?

What if a black hole had the ability to take on a personality like a human?

What if a black hole could hide its personality amongst us?

What would be its motivations, its goals, its dreams, its passions?

I think a better name for the black hole villain in my story is Collapsaricus.

And so it shall be!