Friday, 24 January 2020

Stories are a Science

“I find that the uneducated Englishman is an almost total sceptic about History. 

I had expected he would disbelieve the Gospels because they contain miracles: but he really disbelieves them because they deal with things that happened 2,000 years ago. 

He would disbelieve equally in the battle of Actium if he heard of it. 

To those who have had our kind of education, his state of mind is very difficult to realize. 

To us The Present has always appeared as one section in a huge continuous process. 

In his mind the Present occupies almost the whole field of vision. 

Beyond it, isolated from it, and quite unimportant, is something called ‘The Olden Days’– a small, comic jungle in which highway men, Queen Elizabeth, knights-in-armour, etc., wander about. Then (strangest of all) beyond The Olden Days comes a picture of ‘Primitive Man’. 

He is ‘science’, not ‘history’, and is therefore felt to be much more real than The Old Days. 

In other words, the Prehistoric is much more believed in than the Historic.”

— C.S. Lewis, 
Christian Apologetics 

Now let me ask you a question. 
Why are humans so fascinated by old things? 

Old things? 

Old buildings, churches, walls, ancient things, antique things, tables, clocks, knick knacks. 
Why? Why, why? 

There are many possible explanations. 

If you brought a Noophian to Earth, he'd probably look around and say, 
“tear that old village down, it's hanging in rags. 
Build me something new, something efficient.”

But to a human, that old house, that ancient wall, it's a shrine, something to be cherished. 
Again, I ask you, why? 

Perhaps, for humans, old things represent a tie to the past. 

What's so important about the past?
 People got sick, they needed money. 
Why tie yourself to that? 

Humans are mortal. 
They seem to need a sense of continuity. 

Ah hah!! Why? 

To give their lives meaning. 
A sense of purpose. 

And this continuity, does it only run one way, backwards, to the past? 

I suppose it is a factor in the human desire to procreate. 

So you believe that having children gives humans a sense of immortality, do you? 

It is a reasonable explanation to your query, sir. 


In medieval Kabbalah, the Shekhinah is separated in Creation from the Sefirot by man’s sin, while in Lurianic Kabbalah Divinity is exiled in the qlippot from prior initial Catastrophe in Creation. This causes “Sparks of Holiness” to be exiled in the qlippot, Jewish Observance with physical objects redeeming mundane Nogah, while the Three Impure Qlippot are elevated indirectly through Negative prohibitions. Repentance out of love retrospectively turns sin into virtue, darkness into light. 

Wednesday, 22 January 2020

Art Thou for Us, or For Our Adversaries?

13 And it came to pass, when Joshua was by Jericho, that he lifted up his eyes and looked, and, behold, there stood a man over against him with his sword drawn in his hand: and Joshua went unto him, and said unto him, Art thou for us, or for our adversaries?

14 And he said, Nay; but as captain of the host of the LORD am I now come. And Joshua fell on his face to the earth, and did worship, and said unto him, What saith my lord unto his servant?

15 And the captain of the LORD'S host said unto Joshua, Loose thy shoe from off thy foot; for the place whereon thou standest is holy. And Joshua did so.

worship (n.)
Old English worðscip, wurðscip (Anglian), weorðscipe (West Saxon) "condition of being worthy, dignity, glory, distinction, honor, renown," from weorð "worthy" (see worth) + -scipe (see -ship). Sense of "reverence paid to a supernatural or divine being" is first recorded c. 1300. The original sense is preserved in the title worshipful "honorable" (c. 1300).

The Lost Word

Commander, a word. 

Yes, Lieutenant? 

Was I not one of your top students? 

Indeed you were. 

And did I not, on multiple occassions, demonstrate exceptional aural sensitivity, and I quote, "an unparalleled ability to identify sonic anomalies in subspace transmission tests?" 

Consistently, yes. 

UHURA: And while you were well aware that of my own qualified desires to serve on the USS Enterprise, I'm assigned to the Farragut? 

It was an attempt to avoid the appearance of favoritism. 

No, I'm assigned to the Enterprise. 

(Spock presses some buttons on his PADD) 

Yes, I believe you are. 

Thank you.


“Joyce and Jung met a few times, and they didn’t like each other, by the way.  
Joyce thought Jung thought Joyce was a possible candidate for therapy, and Jung thought Joyce was a man on the edge of schizophrenia who remained on the safe side through his art: 
if he lost his art he’d go complete wack-o.  

Joyce did not wish to believe his daughter was schizophrenic.  
He told Jung, 
“I’m doing the same experiments with language that she is.”  

And Jung said, 
“The difference is you’re diving, 
and she’s sinking.” 

“ When we look at The World, we perceive only what is enough for our plans and actions to work and for us to get by. 

What we inhabit, then, is this “Enough.” 

That is a radical, functional, unconscious simplification of The World — and it’s •almost• impossible for us not to mistake it for The World itself. 

But the objects we see are not simply there, in The World, for our simple, direct perceiving.

They exist in a complex, multi-dimensional relationship to one another, not as self-evidently separate, bounded, independent objects. 

We perceive not them, but their functional utility and, in doing so, we make them sufficiently simple for sufficient understanding. 

It is for this reason that we must be precise in our aim. “

Absent that, we drown in the complexity of the world.


The Guide for the first part of your Inward Journey is your Intellect, the Masculine Traits of Intelligence, Proportion and Good Sense.

The Lowest Level of Hell is the worst. It is FROZEN. 

To reach The Coldness of Life — Loneliness and Meaninglessness — is The worst experience a human being goes through, worse than the fiery aspects of Hell. Under the guidance of Virgil, Dante gets to the bottom of Hell and just keeps going. You don’t come out of Hell through the door you entered. You go through it and out the other side. On the other side of Hell lies Heaven.

Dante and Virgil are in the middle of the world, which is where the Devil lives. And Dante gets through that nodal point, the point of zero gravity at the center of the world, by shimmying down the hairy leg of the Devil, and finds himself in Purgatory. 

Hell lays out what’s Wrong — the hellish dimensions of life — and Purgatory begins The Repair, what you need in order to be restored. 

You need to be treated.

The verb ‘to treat’ comes from the Latin tractare “ to pull or drag.” 

The earliest therapists had a series of stones with increasingly smaller holes in them, and you were literally pulled through —the biggest one first, a smaller one next, until you couldn’t be pulled through any more. 

You came out of this experience minus a bit of skin, but you were treated. 

Dante is pulled through A hole from the center of the world and begins his ascent through Purgatory, its many levels and teachings.

At this point, Virgil approaches Dante and says, “I cannot take you any further. One Greater Than I will be your guide from here.” 

Dante is shaken, because he has depended entirely on Virgil. Virgil continues, 
“Beatrice will guide you from Here,” 
the same Beatrice who had opened the vision of Heaven for him on the Ponte Vecchio.

Excerpt from: 
"Inner Gold: Understanding Psychological Projection" 
by Arnie Kotler

[Hangar One]

COMMANDER: ...Regula I, Tracy, USS Farragut... USS Enterprise, McGrath, USS ... Vader, USS Hood. Welcome to Starfleet, godspeed. 

KIRK: He didn't call my name. Commander! Sir, you didn't call my name. Kirk, James T.? 

COMMANDER: Kirk, you're on academic suspension. That means you're grounded, until the Academy board rules. 

MCCOY: Jim, the board'll rule in your favor. Most likely. Look, Jim, I got to go. 

KIRK: Yeah, get going. Be safe. 

OFFICER: Excuse me. 

KIRK: Yeah, yeah, sorry. 

MCCOY: ....Dammit. Come with me. 

FEMALE ASSIGNER: ...USS Neutral, Uhura, USS Farragut, Petroski, USS Antares. Go to your stations and good luck. 

(Gaila smiles wide past Uhura, who has a dour expression) 

KIRK: Bones, where are we going? 

MCCOY: You'll see. 

(they pass Uhura) 

[Medical Bay]

KIRK: What are you doing? 

I'm doing you a favor. I couldn't just leave you there looking all pathetic. 
Take a seat. I'm going to give you a vaccine against viral infection from Melvaran mud fleas. 

Oww! What for? 

MCCOY: Give you the symptoms. 

What are you talking about? 

You're going to start to lose vision in your left eye. 

Yeah, I already have. 

Oh, and you're going to get a really bad headache and a flop sweat. 

You call this a FAVOUR? 

MCCOY: Yeah, you owe me one.

[Hangar One]

MALE ASSIGNER: Kirk, James T. He's not cleared for duty aboard the Enterprise. 

MCCOY: Medical Code states the treatment and transport of a patient to be determined at the discretion of his attending physician, which is me. 

So, I'm taking Mister Kirk aboard. 

Or would you like to explain to Captain Pike why the Enterprise warped into a crisis without one of its senior medical officers? 

As you were. 

As you were. 


[Shuttlecraft Gilliam]

(as the shuttlecrafts head to their various ships, including the Enterprise) 

KIRK: I might throw up on you. 

MCCOY: Oh Jim, you got to look at this. Jim, look! 

KIRK: What? 

(they look out at Earth Spacedock and the massive Enterprise)

[Enterprise Shuttlebay]

MCCOY: We need to get you changed. 

KIRK: I don't feel right. I feel like I'm leaking. 

MCCOY: Hell, it's that pointy-eared bastard. 
(Kirk and McCoy swerve to narrowly avoid being spotted by Spock. Spock enters a turbolift and arrives on the bridge)


KIRK: Where are we? 

MCCOY: Medical bay. 

KIRK: This is worth it. 

MCCOY: A little suffering's good for the soul. 

KIRK: (to a nurse) Hi, how are you. 

MCCOY: Over here. 

KIRK: My mouth is itchy, is that normal? 

MCCOY: Well, those symptoms won't last long. I'm going to give you a mild sedative. 

KIRK: Agh, I wish I didn't know you. 

MCCOY: Don't be such an infant. 

(he applies the sedative to Kirk) 

KIRK: Aggh... how long is it supposed to... 

(he falls unconscious) 

MCCOY: Unbelievable.

(Kirk awakes in front of the monitor) 

Kirk: Lightning storm! 

MCCOY: Uh, Jim, you're awake. How do you feel? 

KIRK: ah.. uh... 

MCCOY: Good god, man! 

KIRK: What? Ah! 

(His hands come into view, extremely swollen) 

KIRK: What the hell's this?! 

MCCOY: Reaction to the vaccine. 
Dammit! Nurse Chapel, I need fifty cc's of cortazone. 

CHAPEL: (offscreen) Yes, sir. 

(Kirk replays Chekov's message as McCoy scans Kirk) 

KIRK: Nice. We got to stop the ship!


(Kirk and McCoy are frantically running through the corridors) 

MCCOY: Jim! I'm not kidding, we need to keep your heart rate down! 

KIRK: Computer, locate crew member Uhura! 

MCCOY: I haven't seen a reaction this severe since med school. 

KIRK: We're flying into a trap! 

MCCOY: Dammit Jim, stand still. 

(McCoy hypos Kirk in the neck) 

KIRK: Ow! Stop it! 

(Kirk runs and finds Uhura) 

KIRK: Uhura, Uhura. 

UHURA: Kirk, what are you doing here? 

KIRK: The transmission from the Klingon prison planet, what exactly was... 

UHURA: Oh my god, what's wrong with your hands?! 

(McCoy begins scanning Kirk again) 

KIRK: It-it-it... look, who is responsible for the Klingon attack? Was the ship Romul... 

UHURA: Was the ship what? 

KIRK: (to McCoy) What's happening to my mouth? 

MCCOY: You got numb tongue? 

KIRK: (mumbled) Numb tongue! 

MCCOY: I can fix that! 

(McCoy briefly leaves) 

UHURA: Was the ship what? 

KIRK: (mumbled) Romulan! 

UHURA: What? 

KIRK: (mumbled, but clearer) Romulan 

UHURA: Romulan? 

KIRK: (mumbled) Yeah 

UHURA: Yes. 

KIRK: (mumbled) Yes! 

(Kirk is hypoed again by McCoy) 

KIRK: (mumbled) Ahh... dammit! 

(a massive drill platform is in the atmosphere, from the Narada. Amanda sees it from her home, just beyond the Vasquez Rocks)

[Narada Bridge]

AYEL: Lord Nero, seven Federation ships are on their way. 
[Enterprise Corridor] 
(Kirk, McCoy, and Uhura are now running through the corridors) 
MCCOY: Jim! 
UHURA: What's going on?! 
MCCOY: Jim, come back! 
UHURA: Kirk!


KIRK: Captain! 
MCCOY: Jim, no! 
KIRK: Captain Pike, we have to stop the ship! 
PIKE: Kirk, how the hell did you get on board the Enterprise! 
MCCOY: Captain, this man's under the influence of a severe reaction of a Melvaran flea vaccine, completely... 
KIRK: Bones, Bones... 
MCCOY: ...delusional. I take full responsibility. 
KIRK: Vulcan is not experiencing a natural disaster. It's being attacked by Romulans. 
PIKE: Romulans? Cadet Kirk, I think you've had enough attention for one day. McCoy take him back to medical, we'll have words later. 
MCCOY: Aye Captain. 
KIRK: Look, sir, that same anomaly... 
PIKE: Mister Kirk... 
SPOCK: Mister Kirk is not cleared to be aboard this vessel. 
KIRK: Look, I get it, you're a great orator. I'd love to do it again with you to. 
SPOCK: I can remove the Cadet... 
KIRK: Try it! This Cadet is trying to save the bridge. 
SPOCK: By recommending a full stop mid-warp during a rescue mission? 
KIRK: It's not a rescue mission, listen, it's an attack. 
SPOCK: Based on what facts? 
KIRK: That same anomaly, a lightning storm in space that we saw today, also occurred on the day of my birth. Before a Romulan ship attacked the USS Kelvin. (to Pike) You know that, sir, I read your dissertation. That ship which had formidable and advanced weaponry was never seen or heard from again. The Kelvin attack to place on the edge of Klingon space and at twenty-three hundred hours last night, there was an attack. Forty-seven Klingon warbirds destroyed by a Romulan, sir. It was reported that the Romulans were in one ship, one massive ship. 
PIKE: And you know of this Klingon attack how? 
UHURA: Sir, I intercepted and translated the message myself. Kirk's report is accurate. 
KIRK: We're warping into a trap, sir. The Romulans are waiting for us, I promise you that. 
SPOCK: The Cadet's logic is sound. And Lieutenant Uhura is unmatched in xenolinguistics, we would be wise to accept her conclusion. 
PIKE: Scan Vulcan space, check for any transmissions in Romulan. 
MALE LIEUTENANT: Sir, I'm not sure I can distinguish the Romulan language from Vulcan. 
PIKE: (to Uhura) What about you? Do you speak Romulan, Cadet? 
UHURA: Uhura. All three dialects, sir. 
PIKE: Uhura, relieve the lieutenant. 
UHURA: Yes sir. 
PIKE: Hannity, hail the USS Truman. 
HANNITY: All the other ships are out of warp, sir, and have arrived at Vulcan, but we seemed to have lost all contact. 
UHURA: Sir, I pick up no Romulan transmission, or transmission of any kind in the area. 
KIRK: It's because they're being attacked. 
PIKE: Shields up, red alert. 
SULU: Arrival in Vulcan in five seconds... four... three... two... 
(the arrive into a huge space battle) 
PIKE: Emergency evasive. 
OFFICER: Running sir. 
(bridge officers begin their reporting) 
PIKE: Damage report. 
OFFICER: Deflector shields are holding. 
PIKE: All stations. Engineer Olson, report. 
PIKE: Full reverse, come about starboard ninety degrees, drop us underneath and... 
(everyone is amazed at the massive Narada)

Tuvok and security arrive.)
NEELIX: Something's wrong with him. 
EMH: Don't you know it's rude to refer to somebody in the third person. You had a choice, Mister Neelix. Should I do something rude or not do something rude? 
TUVOK: Doctor, we must return to Sickbay. 
EMH: Why should I? What if I don't want to return to Sickbay? What if I decide not to return to Sickbay? No, I don't choose this. Leave me alone! Let me go! Why did she have to die? Why did I kill her? Why did I decide to kill her? Why? Somebody tell me why!

[Computer control room]

JANEWAY: It was downhill from there. You developed a feedback loop between your ethical and cognitive subroutines. You were having the same thoughts over and over again. We couldn't stop it.     
TORRES: Our only option was to erase your memories of those events. 
EMH: You were right. I didn't deserve to keep those memories, not after what I did. 
JANEWAY: You were performing your duty. 
EMH: Two patients, which do I kill? 
JANEWAY: Doctor.     
EMH: Doctor? Hardly! A doctor retains his objectivity. I didn't do that, did I? Two patients, equal chances of survival and I chose the one I was closer to? I chose my friend? That's not in my programming! That's not what I was designed to do! Go ahead! Reprogramme me! I'll lend you a hand! Let's start with this very day, this hour, this second! 
JANEWAY: Computer, deactivate the EMH. 
TORRES: Here we go again. Captain? 
JANEWAY: It's as though there's a battle being fought inside him, between his original programming and what he's become. Our solution was to end that battle. What if we were wrong? 
TORRES: We've seen what happens to him. In fact, we've seen it twice. 
JANEWAY: Still, we allowed him to evolve, and at the first sign of trouble? We gave him a soul, B'Elanna. Do we have the right to take it away now? 
TORRES: We gave him personality subroutines. I'd hardly call that a soul.

[Cargo Bay two]

(Janeway brings Seven out of regeneration.)
SEVEN: Captain. 
JANEWAY: I'm having trouble with the nature of individuality. 
SEVEN: You require a philosophical discussion? 
JANEWAY: There's a time and a place for it. This is one of them. After I freed you from the Collective, you were transformed. It's been a difficult process. Was it worth it? 
SEVEN: I had no choice. 
JANEWAY; That's not what I asked you. 
SEVEN: If I could change what happened, erase what you did to me, would I? No.

Captain's log, supplemental. Our Doctor is now our patient. It's been two weeks since I've ordered a round the clock vigil. A crew member has stayed with him at all times, offering a sounding board and a familiar presence while he struggles to understand his memories and thoughts. The chance of recovery? Uncertain.


EMH: The more I think about it, the more I realise there's nothing I could've done differently. 
JANEWAY: What do you mean? 
EMH: The primordial atom burst, sending out its radiation, setting everything in motion. One particle collides with another, gases expand, planets contract, and before you know it we've got starships and holodecks and chicken soup. In fact, you can't help but have starships and holodecks and chicken soup, because it was all determined twenty billion years ago!  
(Tuvok enters during this outburst.)
TUVOK: There is a certain logic to your logic. Progress? 
JANEWAY: I'm not sure if he's making any sense of this experience, or if his programme's just running in circles. 
TUVOK: You've been here for sixteen hours. Let me continue while you rest. 
JANEWAY: I'll be all right. Go back to the bridge.  
(Tuvok leaves. Janeway returns to her book.)
EMH: How can you read at a time like this? 
JANEWAY: It helps me think. 
EMH: Think? What do you need to think about? 
JANEWAY: You. This book is relevant to your situation. 
EMH: Oh? What is it? 
JANEWAY: Poetry, written on Earth a thousand years ago. La Vita Nuova. 
EMH: La Vita Nuova. The New Life? Ha! Tell that to Ensign Jetal. Actually, I killed her countless times. 
JANEWAY: What do you mean? 
EMH: Causality, probability. For every action, there's an infinite number of reactions and in each one of them, I killed her. Or did I? Too many possibilities. Too many pathways for my programme to follow. Impossible to choose. Still, I can't live with the knowledge of what I've done. I can't. 
(Janeway has fallen asleep.)
EMH: Captain? Captain? 
JANEWAY: Oh, sorry. 
EMH: How could you sleep at a time like this? 
JANEWAY: It's been a long day. You were saying? 
EMH: What's wrong? 
JANEWAY: Nothing. 
EMH: You're ill! 
JANEWAY: I have a headache. 
EMH: Fever, you have a fever. 
JANEWAY: I'll live. 
EMH: Medical emergency! 
JANEWAY: Doctor. 
EMH: Someone's got to treat you immediately. Call Mister Paris. You've got to get to Sickbay. 
JANEWAY: Doctor, I'm a little busy right now, helping a friend. 
EMH: I, I'll be all right. Go, sleep, please. I'll still be here in the morning. 
JANEWAY: Are you sure? 
EMH: Yes. Please, I don't want to be responsible for any more suffering. 
(Janeway leave her book open at the first page.)
JANEWAY: Good night. If you need anything. 
EMH: I'll call. Thank you, Captain. (Janeway leaves. The EMH picks up the book and reads aloud.)
EMH: In that book which is my memory, on the first page of the chapter that is the day when I first met you, appear the words - Here begins a new life.

Think, Kal-El — Think.

Every preference of a small good to a great, or a partial good to a total good, involves the loss for the small or partial good for which the sacrifice was made. 

Apparently The World is made that way. 

If Esau really got the pottage in return for his birthright, then Esau was a lucky exception.

You can't get second things by putting them first; you can get second things only by putting first things first. 

From which it would follow that the question, “What things are first?” is of concern not only to philosophers but to everyone.

To preserve civilization has been the great aim; the collapse of civilization, the great bugbear. 

Peace, a high standard of life, hygiene, transport, science and amusement - all these, which are what we usually mean by civilization, have been our ends. 

Perhaps it can't be preserved that way. 

Perhaps civilization will never be safe until we care for something else more than we care for it.

What is the first thing? 
The only reply I can offer here is that if we do not know
then the first, and only practical thing, is to set about finding out.

CS Lewis, God in the Dock 

And I began to realise a little bit about how this stuff works.

So beyond that, I decided: “I won’t just use it to get laid, because it seems a pretty low-grade kind of way of dealing with magic.”

But man, it WORKS, Believe me!

Not All Texts are Edifying

Tuesday, 21 January 2020


Soldiers! Don't give yourselves to brutes — men who despise you — enslave you — who regiment your lives — tell you what to do — what to think or what to feel! 

Who drill you, diet you, treat you like cattle, use you as cannon fodder. 

Don't give yourselves to these unnatural men — machine men with machine minds and machine hearts! 

You are not machines! You are not cattle! You are men! You have the love of humanity in your hearts. 

You don't hate! Only the unloved hate — the unloved and the unnatural! 

 A small vessel, entering orbit. I detect no lifeforms aboard, sir.

[Soong's lab]

(Data is rubbing his stomach while patting his head) 
SOONG: Good. Good, good, good. Keep it up. Keep it up. Old Tom Handy swore you'd never master that. Data, Data, whistle for me. 
(Data does his bad, off-key 'Pop goes the Weasel') 
SOONG: Oh, well. All right, that's enough. Sit down. (he inspects a plant) Beautiful, beautiful. You know, I've been able to keep track of you from time to time. You've become something of a celebrity in cybernetic circles. Data, why Starfleet? 
DATA: Sir? 
SOONG: I gave you the ability to choose whatever you wanted. To do whatever you wanted. Why Starfleet? 
DATA: It was Starfleet officers who rescued me. 
SOONG: Ah. So you decided to emulate your emancipators, huh? How disappointing. 
DATA: What choice of vocation would have met with your approval, sir? 
SOONG: Well, I often hoped you might become a scientist. Perhaps even a cyberneticist. 
DATA: To follow in your footsteps, as it were? 
SOONG: I see nothing wrong with that. 
DATA: May I ask you a question, sir? 
SOONG: Certainly. Anything you like. 
DATA: Why did you create me? 
SOONG: Why does a painter paint? Why does a boxer box? You know what Michelangelo used to say? That the sculptures he made were already there before he started, hidden in the marble. All he needed to do was remove the unneeded bits. It wasn't quite that easy with you, Data. But the need to do it, my need to do it, was no different than Michelangelo's need. Now let me ask you a question. Why are humans so fascinated by old things? 
DATA: Old things? 
SOONG: Old buildings, churches, walls, ancient things, antique things, tables, clocks, knick knacks. Why? Why, why? 
DATA: There are many possible explanations. 
SOONG: If you brought a Noophian to Earth, he'd probably look around and say, tear that old village down, it's hanging in rags. Build me something new, something efficient. But to a human, that old house, that ancient wall, it's a shrine, something to be cherished. Again, I ask you, why? 
DATA: Perhaps, for humans, old things represent a tie to the past. 
SOONG: What's so important about the past? People got sick, they needed money. Why tie yourself to that? 
DATA: Humans are mortal. They seem to need a sense of continuity. 
SOONG: Ah hah!! Why? 
DATA: To give their lives meaning. A sense of purpose. 
SOONG: And this continuity, does it only run one way, backwards, to the past? 
DATA: I suppose it is a factor in the human desire to procreate. 
SOONG: So you believe that having children gives humans a sense of immortality, do you? 
It is a reasonable explanation to your query, sir. 

And to yours as well, Data. 

DATA: I implore you, do not reactivate him. 
SOONG: Don't be ridiculous, Data. Lore is far from the maniacal android you have made him out to be. In any case, he'll obey me. He always did. 
DATA: But he admitted to an alliance with the Crystal Entity. To gain its favour, he betrayed the colonists and would have betrayed the Enterprise as well had I not 
SOONG: Shh! One more. That should do it. 
(Lore wakes, sees Data, and makes a lunge for him. Soong intervenes) 
LORE: So, you're still alive. I'm surprised you woke me. Why didn't you just take me apart again and be done with it? That is why the two of you captured me, isn't it? 
SOONG: Data had nothing to do with this, Lore. And nobody captured you. Not exactly, that is. You see, both of your brains contain a simple homing device. Data's was activated purposefully. Yours, well, until you walked through that door I had no idea you'd ever been reassembled. 
LORE: No thanks to you. But thanks to you, dear brother, I spent nearly two years drifting in space. If it hadn't been for a fortunate encounter with a Pakled trade ship, I'd still be out there. 
DATA: I had no alternative. You would have destroyed the Enterprise. 
LORE: Well, since I appear to be an uninvited guest at your little party, I'll leave you with your beloved son and be on my way. 
SOONG: Lore, wait. There are questions I can answer. You'll have no chance to ask them later. You see, I'm dying. 
(That stops Lore in his tracks) 
SOONG: Yes, I'm dying. 
DATA: Dying from what, sir? 
LORE: Wait a minute. Wait a minute. What do you mean, you're dying? You look fine. You're not that old. You look fine. What is this? Some kind of a trick? 
SOONG: I wish it were. 

LORE: You did what you had to do? What kind of answer is that? 
SOONG: The only one I can give you. You were not functioning properly. 
DATA: Lore told me the colonists envied him because you made him so completely human. 
SOONG: I wouldn't exactly have used the word envious, Data. 
LORE: You disassembled me. You took me apart. 
DATA: Lore also told me the colonists petitioned you to replace him with a less perfect android. 
SOONG: The last thing you should think of yourself as, Data, is less perfect. The two of you are virtually identical, except for a bit of programming. 
DATA: It was a lie. Another lie. 
LORE: I would have proven myself worth to you, if you'd just given me a chance. But it was easier just to turn your back and build your precious Data. 
SOONG: You were the first. You meant as much to me as Data ever did, but you were unstable. The colonists were not envious of you, they were afraid of you. You were unstable. 
DATA: I am not less perfect than Lore. 
LORE: Why didn't you just fix me? It was within your power to fix me. 
SOONG: It wasn't as easy as that. The next, the next logical step was to construct Data. Afterward, I planned to get back to you, to fix you. 
LORE: Next logical step. 
DATA: I am not less perfect than Lore. 
LORE: I am not less perfect than Lore. 
SOONG: Enough! Both of you, sit down. Sit down. For all these years I've been plagued by what went wrong. With all of your complexities, Lore, your nuances, basic emotions seemed almost simple by comparison. But the emotion turned, and twisted, became entangled with ambition. Lore, if I had known you were no longer sitting in pieces on some distant shelf, if I had known that I could simply press a button and bring you here, I would have spent those years trying to make things right for you as well. But all I knew of was Data. So I worked long and hard, and now I believe I've succeeded. This is why I brought you here, Data. Basic emotions. Simple feelings, Data. Your feelings. I've imagined how hard it's been for you, living amongst beings so moved by emotion. 
(Both androids stare at the tiny chip held in the tweezers) 
LORE: I don't have to imagine. I know how hard it's been. You'd be surprised, Data. Feelings do funny things. You may even learn to understand your evil brother. To forgive him. We will be more alike, Data, you and I. You'll see. I'm happy for you. 
DATA: I question your sincerity, Lore. 
SOONG: Perhaps with this you'll learn to be more trusting, Data. Your brother has had good reason to be bitter. 
DATA: But sir, Lore was responsible for 
SOONG: He wasn't given the chance that you and I were given, to live. But now I'm sure he understands why I had to do what I had to do. 
If there were only time, Lore. What a shame. The procedure is quite simple. I'm tired. I need to rest, first, I'm tired. 
(And he leaves the brothers eyeing each other)


The lineage of the Patriarchs, not only defines the structure of the tree-of-life, but delineates a cleansing process, whereby the holy sparks of life were separated from the inherent evil inclinations with each generation. 

Ishmael was born first and received the brunt of any negativity Abraham had to pass on. 

Esau was born first and likewise received most of the negativity that Isaac had to pass on, which set up the dynamic of good vs evil between the two brothers Jacob and Esau.

20 And Isaac was forty years old when he took Rebekah to wife, the daughter of Bethuel the Syrian of Padanaram, the sister to Laban the Syrian.

21 And Isaac intreated the LORD for his wife, because she was barren: and the LORD was intreated of him, and Rebekah his wife conceived.

22 And the children struggled together within her; and she said, If it be so, why am I thus? And she went to enquire of the LORD.

23 And the LORD said unto her, Two nations are in thy womb, and two manner of people shall be separated from thy bowels; and the one people shall be stronger than the other people; and the elder shall serve the younger.

24 And when her days to be delivered were fulfilled, behold, there were twins in her womb.

25 And the first came out red, all over like an hairy garment; and they called his name Esau.

26 And after that came his brother out, and his hand took hold on Esau's heel; and his name was called Jacob: and Isaac was threescore years old when she bare them.

27 And the boys grew: and Esau was a cunning hunter, a man of the field; and Jacob was a plain man, dwelling in tents.

28 And Isaac loved Esau, because he did eat of his venison: but Rebekah loved Jacob.

29 And Jacob sod pottage: and Esau came from the field, and he was faint:

30 And Esau said to Jacob, Feed me, I pray thee, with that same red pottage; for I am faint: therefore was his name called Edom.

31 And Jacob said, Sell me this day thy birthright.

32 And Esau said, Behold, I am at the point to die: and what profit shall this birthright do to me?

33 And Jacob said, Swear to me this day; and he sware unto him: and he sold his birthright unto Jacob.

34 Then Jacob gave Esau bread and pottage of lentiles; and he did eat and drink, and rose up, and went his way: thus Esau despised his birthright.


When Manwë heard of the ways that Melkor had taken, it seemed plain to him that he purposed to escape to his old strongholds in the north of Middle-earth; and Oromë and Tulkas went with all speed northward, seeking to overtake him if they might, but they found no trace or rumour of him beyond the shores of the Teleri, in the unpeopled wastes that drew near to the Ice. Thereafter the watch was redoubled along the northern fences of Aman; but to no purpose, for ere ever the pursuit set out Melkor had turned back, and in secrecy passed away far to the south. For he was yet as one of the Valar, and could change his form, or walk unclad, as could his brethren; though that power he was soon to lose for ever. Thus unseen he came at last to the dark region of Avathar. That narrow land lay south of the Bay of Eldamar, beneath the eastern feet of the Pelóri, and its long and mournful shores stretched away into the south, lightless and unexplored. There, beneath the sheer walls of the mountains and the cold dark sea, the shadows were deepest and thickest in the world; and there in Avathar, secret and unknown, Ungoliant had made her abode. The Eldar knew not whence she came; but some have said that in ages long before she descended from the darkness that lies about Arda, when Melkor first looked down in envy upon the Kingdom of Manwë, and that in the beginning she was one of those that he corrupted to his service. But she had disowned her Master, desiring to be mistress of her own lust, taking all things to herself to feed her emptiness; and she fled to the south, escaping the assaults of the Valar and the hunters of Oromë, for their vigilance had ever been to the north, and the south was long unheeded. Thence she had crept towards the light of the Blessed Realm; for she hungered for light and hated it. In a ravine she lived, and took shape as a spider of monstrous form, weaving her black webs in a cleft of the mountains. There she sucked up all light that she could find, and spun it forth again in dark nets of strangling gloom, until no light more could come to her abode; and she was famished. Now Melkor came to Avathar and sought her out; and he put on again the form that he had worn as the tyrant of Utumno: a dark Lord, tall and terrible. In that form he remained ever after. There in the black shadows, beyond the sight even of Manwë in his highest halls, Melkor with Ungoliant plotted his revenge. But when Ungoliant understood the purpose of Melkor, she was torn between lust and great fear; for she was loath to dare the perils of Aman and the power of the dreadful Lords, and she would not stir from her hiding. Therefore Melkor said to her: ‘Do as I bid; and if thou hunger still when all is done, then I will give thee whatsoever thy lust may demand. Yea, with both hands.’ Lightly he made this vow, as he ever did; and he laughed in his heart. Thus did the great thief set his lure for the lesser. A cloak of darkness she wove about them when Melkor and Ungoliant set forth: an Unlight, in which things seemed to be no more, and which eyes could not pierce, for it was void. Then slowly she wrought her webs: rope by rope from cleft to cleft, from jutting rock to pinnacle of stone, ever climbing upwards, crawling and clinging, until at last she reached the very summit of Hyarmentir, the highest mountain in that region of the world, far south of great Taniquetil. There the Valar were not vigilant; for west of the Pelóri was an empty land in twilight, and eastward the mountains looked out, save for forgotten Avathar, only upon the dim waters of the pathless sea. But now upon the mountain-top dark Ungoliant lay; and she made a ladder of woven ropes and cast it down, and Melkor climbed upon it and came to that high place, and stood beside her, looking down upon the Guarded Realm. Below them lay the woods of Oromë, and westward shimmered the fields and pastures of Yavanna, gold beneath the tall wheat of the gods. But Melkor looked north, and saw afar the shining plain, and the silver domes of Valmar gleaming in the mingling of the lights of Telperion and Laurelin. Then Melkor laughed aloud, and leapt swiftly down the long western slopes; and Ungoliant was at his side, and her darkness covered them. Now it was a time of festival, as Melkor knew well. Though all tides and seasons were at the will of the Valar, and in Valinor there was no winter of death, nonetheless they dwelt then in the Kingdom of Arda, and that was but a small realm in the halls of Eä, whose life is Time, which flows ever from the first note to the last chord of Eru. And even as it was then the delight of the Valar (as is told in the Ainulindalë) to clothe themselves as in a vesture in the forms of the Children of Ilúvatar, so also did they eat and drink, and gather the fruits of Yavanna from the Earth, which under Eru they had made. Therefore Yavanna set times for the flowering and the ripening of all things that grew in Valinor; and at each first gathering of fruits Manwë made a high feast for the praising of Eru, when all the peoples of Valinor poured forth their joy in music and song upon Taniquetil. This now was the hour, and Manwë decreed a feast more glorious than any that had been held since the coming of the Eldar to Aman. For though the escape of Melkor portended toils and sorrows to come, and indeed none could tell what further hurts would be done to Arda ere he could be subdued again, at this time Manwë designed to heal the evil that had arisen among the Noldor; and all were bidden to come to his halls upon Taniquetil, there to put aside the griefs that lay between their princes, and forget utterly the lies of their Enemy. There came the Vanyar, and there came the Noldor of Tirion, and the Maiar were gathered together, and the Valar were arrayed in their beauty and majesty; and they sang before Manwë and Varda in their lofty halls, or danced upon the green slopes of the Mountain that looked west towards the Trees. In that day the streets of Valmar were empty, and the stairs of Tirion were silent; and all the land lay sleeping in peace. Only the Teleri beyond the mountains still sang upon the shores of the sea; for they recked little of seasons or times, and gave no thought to the cares of the Rulers of Arda, or the shadow that had fallen on Valinor, for it had not touched them, as yet. One thing only marred the design of Manwë. Fëanor came indeed, for him alone Manwë had commanded to come; but Finwë came not, nor any others of the Noldor of Formenos. For said Finwë: ‘While the ban lasts upon Fëanor my son, that he may not go to Tirion, I hold myself unkinged, and I will not meet my people.’ And Fëanor came not in raiment of festival, and he wore no ornament, neither silver nor gold nor any gem; and he denied the sight of the Silmarils to the Valar and the Eldar, and left them locked in Formenos in their chamber of iron. Nevertheless he met Fingolfin before the throne of Manwë, and was reconciled, in word; and Fingolfin set at naught the unsheathing of the sword. For Fingolfin held forth his hand, saying: ‘As I promised, I do now. I release thee, and remember no grievance.’ Then Fëanor took his hand in silence; but Fingolfin said: ‘Half-brother in blood, full brother in heart will I be. Thou shalt lead and I will follow. May no new grief divide us.’ ‘I hear thee,’ said Fëanor. ‘So be it.’ But they did not know the meaning that their words would bear. It is told that even as Fëanor and Fingolfin stood before Manwë there came the mingling of the lights, when both Trees were shining, and the silent city of Valmar was filled with a radiance of silver and gold. And in that very hour Melkor and Ungoliant came hastening over the fields of Valinor, as the shadow of a black cloud upon the wind fleets over the sunlit earth; and they came before the green mound Ezellohar. Then the Unlight of Ungoliant rose up even to the roots of the Trees, and Melkor sprang upon the mound; and with his black spear he smote each Tree to its core, wounded them deep, and their sap poured forth as it were their blood, and was spilled upon the ground. But Ungoliant sucked it up, and going then from Tree to Tree she set her black beak to their wounds, till they were drained; and the poison of Death that was in her went into their tissues and withered them, root, branch, and leaf; and they died. And still she thirsted, and going to the Wells of Varda she drank them dry; but Ungoliant belched forth black vapours as she drank, and swelled to a shape so vast and hideous that Melkor was afraid. So the great darkness fell upon Valinor. Of the deeds of that day much is told in the Aldudénië, that Elemmírë of the Vanyar made and is known to all the Eldar. Yet no song or tale could contain all the grief and terror that then befell. The Light failed; but the Darkness that followed was more than loss of light. In that hour was made a Darkness that seemed not lack but a thing with being of its own: for it was indeed made by malice out of Light, and it had power to pierce the eye, and to enter heart and mind, and strangle the very will. Varda looked down from Taniquetil, and beheld the Shadow soaring up in sudden towers of gloom; Valmar had foundered in a deep sea of night. Soon the Holy Mountain stood alone, a last island in a world that was drowned. All song ceased. There was silence in Valinor, and no sound could be heard, save only from afar there came on the wind through the pass of the mountains the wailing of the Teleri like the cold cry of gulls. For it blew chill from the East in that hour, and the vast shadows of the sea were rolled against the walls of the shore. But Manwë from his high seat looked out, and his eyes alone pierced through the night, until they saw a Darkness beyond dark which they could not penetrate, huge but far away, moving now northward with great speed; and he knew that Melkor had come and gone. Then the pursuit was begun; and the earth shook beneath the horses of the host of Oromë, and the fire that was stricken from the hooves of Nahar was the first light that returned to Valinor. But so soon as any came up with the Cloud of Ungoliant the riders of the Valar were blinded and dismayed, and they were scattered, and went they knew not whither; and the sound of the Valaróma faltered and failed. And Tulkas was as one caught in a black net at night, and he stood powerless and beat the air in vain. But when the Darkness had passed, it was too late: Melkor had gone whither he would, and his vengeance was achieved.


The SEAL of the CIA: "You shall know the truth and the truth shall make you free." We CRANE BACK, revealing that the seal is on the floor of the LOBBY as NIXON strides in with his ENTOURAGE.

LT. GENERAL ROBERT CUSHMAN hurries out, ruffled, to meet NIXON.

 CUSHMAN Mr. President, I don't know what to say. As soon as we learned from the Secret Service you were en route, the Director was notified. He should be here any minute.

 NIXON Where the hell is he?

 CUSHMAN Uh, he's rushing back from his tennis game, sir ...

 NIXON (impatient) So ... let's go ...

 CUSHMAN (walking with Nixon) He told me to take you to his conference room.

 NIXON No. His office. (aside) I want a very private conversation. I don't want to be bugged.

 CUSHMAN Then his office will be fine.


They walk past ANALYSTS laboring in isolation behind Plexiglass walls; the hum of computers, a dark austerity to the place. They all glance up as NIXON strides past.

 NIXON How's the job coming, Bob?

 CUSHMAN Frankly, sir, it stinks. I have no access. I'm lucky Helms lets me have a staff.

 NIXON (ominous) We'll see about that ...

 CUSHMAN (sensing change) He's nervous, sir. He's heard you're looking for a new director.

 NIXON Well, he certainly isn't acting like it.

 CUSHMAN That's Helms. He's "sang froid," a world-class poker player.

 NIXON (under his breath) Yeah? Well, I own the fucking casino.


A DUTY OFFICER opens the door of the director's office with a flourish. NIXON catches RICHARD HELMS throwing his trench coat and tennis racket on a chair, obviously hurrying in from a secret door. Helms spots Nixon, extends his hand with a reptilian smile.

 HELMS I'm honored, Dick, that you've come all this way out here to Virginia to visit us at last.

 NIXON My friends call me "Mister President."

 HELMS And so shall I. (to Cushman) Arrange some coffee, would you General Cushman?

Cushman stares back a beat, bitterly. Nixon signals to Haldeman and Ehrlichman that he, too, wants to be alone. The door closes.

 NIXON Robert Cushman is a lieutenant general in the Marine Corps, the Deputy Director of the CIA ... and this is what you use him for?

 HELMS I didn't choose him as my deputy, Mr. President. You did.

Nixon paces the office, which is festooned with photos, awards and an abundance of flowers, particularly orchids. A collector.

 NIXON You live pretty well out here. Now I understand why you want to keep your budget classified.

Helms sits on a settee, a hard-to-read man.

 HELMS I suppose, "Mister President," you're unhappy that we have not implemented your Domestic Intelligence plan, but ...

You're correct. 
I'm concerned these students are being funded by foreign interests, whether they know it or not. 
The FBI is worthless in this area. 
I want your full concentration on this matter ...

Of course we've tried, but so far we've come up with nothing that ...

 NIXON (stern) 
Then find something. And I want these leaks stopped.
 Jack Anderson, the New York Times, the State Department -- I want to know who's talking to them.

 HELMS I'm sure you realize this is a very tricky area, Mr. President, given our charter and the congressional oversight committees ...

Screw congressional oversight. I know damn well, going back to the '50's, this agency reports what it wants, and buries what it doesn't want Congress to know. I pay close attention to this.

Nixon fixes him with his stare. Helms clears his throat.

Is there something else that's bothering you, Mr. President?

Yes ... It involves some old and forgotten papers. 
Things I signed as Vice President. 
I want the originals in my office and I don't want copies anywhere else.

Now knowing Nixon's cards, Helms relaxes -- about an inch.

 HELMS You're referring, of course, to chairing the Special Operations Group as Vice President.

 NIXON Yes ...

Helms wanders over to his prize orchids, fingers them.

HELMS As you know ... that was unique. Not so much an operation as much as ... an organic phenomenon. 
It grew, it changed shape, it developed ... appetites. 
(then) It's not uncommon in such cases that things are not committed to paper. 
That could be very ... embarrassing.

Nixon is embarrassed, and does not like it. Suddenly, The Beast is in the room.

 HELMS (CONT'D) (reminding him) 
I, for one, saw to it that my name was never connected to any of those operations.

On Nixon, waiting.

 HELMS (CONT'D) (fishing) Diem? Trujillo? Lumumba? Guatemala? Cuba? ... It's a shame you didn't take similar precautions, Dick.

 NIXON (very uncomfortable) I'm interested in the documents that put your people together with ... the others. All of them ...

A beat. This is the fastball. Helms pours himself a coffee.

 HELMS President Kennedy threatened to smash the CIA into a thousand pieces. You could do the same ...

 NIXON I'm not Jack Kennedy. Your agency is secure.

 HELMS (stirs the coffee) Not if I give you all the cards ...

 NIXON I promised the American people peace with honor in Southeast Asia. That could take time -- two, maybe three years ... In the meantime, your agency will continue at current levels of funding.

 HELMS (sips his coffee) Current levels may not be sufficient.

 NIXON The President would support a reasonable request for an increase.

Helms smiles.

 HELMS And me? ...

Of course you'll continue as DCI, Dick -. You're doing a magnificent job.

 HELMS And of course I accept. I'm flattered. And I want you to know, I work for only one president at a time.

 NIXON Yes. And you will give General Cushman full access.

 HELMS (grudgingly accepts that) It will take a little time, but I'll order a search for your papers. Though it does raise a disturbing issue.

 NIXON What?

 HELMS Mr. Castro.

 NIXON (tense) Yes.

 HELMS We have recent intelligence that a Soviet nuclear submarine has docked at Cienfuegos.

 NIXON Well, we'll lodge a formal protest.

 HELMS I don't think we can treat this as a formality. Mr. Kennedy made a verbal promise to the Russians not to invade Cuba. But you authorized Dr. Kissinger to put this in writing.

Nixon is taken aback by Helms's inside knowledge.

 NIXON Are you tapping Kissinger...?

My job, unpleasant sometimes, is to know what others don't want me to know.

 NIXON (cold) 
Not if you have spies in the White House, it isn't your job.

It is not my practice to spy on The President. Doctor Kissinger manages to convey his innermost secrets to the world at large on his own.

 NIXON (absorbs this) We’ve  lived with Communism in Cuba for ten years ...

 HELMS ... But it has never been the policy of this government to accept that. 
And it is certainly not CIA policy.

CIA policy? The CIA has no policy, Mr. Helms. Except what I dictate to you ... (beat, they stare at each other) I try to adjust to the world as it is today, not as you or I wanted it to be ten years ago.

Is that why you and Kissinger are negotiating with the Chinese?

A beat. Nixon stares.

This is an extremely dangerous direction, Mr. President. 
Terrible consequences can result from such enormous errors in judgement.

 NIXON But ... if we were able to separate China from Russia once and for all, we can -- we could create a balance of power that would secure the peace into the next century.

 HELMS By offering Cuba to the Russians as a consolation prize?

 NIXON Cuba would be a small price to pay.

 HELMS So President Kennedy thought.

A disturbing image suddenly appears in Nixon's mind -- KENNEDY with his head blown off in Dallas. Followed by an IMAGE of his own death. In a coffin.

The smell of the orchids in the room is overwhelming. Nixon feels himself dizzy.

I never thought Jack was ready for the presidency. But I would never, never consider ... (then) 
His death was awful, an awful thing for this country. 
(then) Do you ever think of Death, Dick?

Flowers are continual reminders of our mortality. 
Do you appreciate flowers?

 NIXON No. They make me sick. They smell like death ... I had two brothers die young. But let me tell you, there are worse things than death. There is such a thing as evil.

 HELMS You must be familiar with my favorite poem by Yeats? "The Second Coming"?


 HELMS Black Irishman. Very moving. "Turning and turning in the widening gyre / The falcon cannot hear the falconer / Things fall apart, the center cannot hold / Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world / And everywhere the ceremony of innocence is drowned / The best lack all conviction, while the worst are full of passionate intensity" ... But it ends so beautifully ominous -- "What rough beast, its hours come round at last / Slouches toward Bethlehem to be born?" ... Yes, this country stands at such a juncture. 

Monday, 20 January 2020

Bloody Constraint

“Well, with William and Harry, for instance, I take them round homelessness projects, I ve taken William and Harry to people dying of Aids - albeit I told them it was cancer - I ve taken the children to all sorts of areas where I'm not sure anyone of that age in this family has been before.
And they have a knowledge - they may never use it, but the seed is there, and I hope it will grow because knowledge is power.

BASHIR: What are you hoping that that experience for your children - what impact that experience will have on your children?

DIANA: I want them to have an understanding of people's emotions, people's insecurities, people's distress, and people's hopes and dreams.

BASHIR: What kind of monarchy do you anticipate?

DIANA: I would like a monarchy that has more contact with its people - and I don't mean by riding round bicycles and things like that, but just having a more in-depth understanding.

And I don't say that as a criticism to the present monarchy: I just say that as what I see and hear and feel on a daily basis in the role I have chosen for myself.

Sin came to your door like this sexually aroused cat-predator thing -

And you invited it in. 

And then you let it have its Wicked Way with you. 

 It’s like you entered into a creative—he uses a sexual metaphor. 

You entered into a creative exchange with it, and gave birth to something as a consequence. 

 What you gave birth to, that’s your life. 

And you knew it. 

You’re self-conscious, after all. 

You knew you were doing this. 

You conspired with this thing to produce the situation that you’re in.

Sunday, 19 January 2020

You Called...?

I’ve often thought it must all just seem really frustrating from Gozer’sperspective, not to say fairly confusing, if not downright perplexing —

What Do You Need From Me?

Remnants of DANA's apartment She stares out, her hair blowing in the wind.
Hey, guard! I want to make a phone call! I just work with these guys! I wasn't even there!
RAY and EGON look over blueprints
The structure of this roof cap is exactly like the kind of telemetry tracker that NASA uses to identify dead pulsars in deep space.

Cold riveted girders with cores of pure selenium.

to other jailbirds
Everyone getting this so far? So what? I guess they just don't make them like they used to.

No! Nobody ever made them like this! The architect was either a certified genius or an aesthetic wacko! 

Ray, for a moment, pretend that I don't know anything about metallurgy, engineering or physics and just tell me what the hell is going on.
You never studied. The whole building is a huge super-conductive antenna that was designed and built expressly for the purpose of pulling in and concentrating spiritual turbulence. Your girlfriend, Pete, lives in the corner penthouse of Spook Central.

She's not my girlfriend. I find her interesting because she's a client and because she sleeps above her covers. Four feet above her covers! She barks, she drools, she claws...

It's not the girl, Peter, it's the building! Something terrible is about the enter our world and this building is obviously the door. The architect's name was Ivo Shandor. I found it in Tobin's Spirit Guide. He was also a doctor. Performed a lot of unnecessary surgery. And then in 1920 he founded a secret society.

Let me guess. Gozer worshippers.


No studying!

After the First World War, Shandor decided that society was too sick to survive. And he wasn't alone. he had close to a thousand followers when he died. They conducted rituals up on the roof, bizarre rituals intended to bring about the end of the world, and now it looks like it may actually happen!

So be good, for goodness sake! Whoa! Somebody's coming! Somebody's coming!

We have to get out of here. We've gotta get a judge or something.

Hey! Hey! Hold it! Now we going to actually going to go before a federal judge and say that some moldy old Babylonian god is going to drop in on Central Park West and start tearing up the city?

Sumerian, not Babylonian.

Yeah, big difference!

No offense, guys, but I gotta get my own lawyer.

Okay, Ghostbusters! The mayor wants to see you guys. The whole island's going crazy! Let's go.

to other jailbirds
I gotta split. The mayor wants to rap with me about some things.

Outside Ivo Shandor Building LOUIS walks by. Shocked. Looks up to the top.
Remnants of DANA's apartment
I am the Keymaster!

I am the Gatekeeper.
they kiss, then go up the stairs to the Temple of Zuul
Outside City Hall Police escort Ghostbusters to the MAYOR. Reporters and photographers try to get press. Music: Savin' The Day.
Stay back! Stay back!

Inside MAYOR's office
I got a city blowing up, and you guys are not giving me any answers!

All right. We're blocking the bridges, the roads. I mean -

The Ghostbusters are here, Mr. Mayor.

The Ghostbusters, all right, the Ghostbusters. Hey, where's this Peck?

I am Walter Peck, sir, and I'm prepared to make a full report. These men are consummate snowball artists! They use sensitive nerve gases to induce hallucinations. People think they're seeing ghosts! And they call these bozos, who conveniently show up to deal with the problem with a fake electronic light show!

Everything was fine with our system until the power grid was shut off by dickless here.

They caused an explosion!

Is this true?

Yes, it's true. This man has no dick.
PECK lunges at PETER. Police try to break up fight.
Break it up, break it up!

Well, that's what I heard!

This is City Hall! Now what am I gonna do here, John? 
What is this?
All I know is: that was no light show we saw this morning. 
I've seen every kind of combustion known to man, but this beats the hell out of me.


The Walls in The 53rd Precinct are bleeding. 
How do you explain that?
Good afternoon, gentlemen.

Oh... Your Eminence!
kisses ARCHBISHOP's ring
How are ya, Lenny?

You're looking good, Mike.
gives ARCHBISHOP a friendly slap
We're in a real fix, here. 

What do you think I should do?


Officially, The Church will not take any position on the religious implications of these, err... phenomena. 

Personally, Lenny --
I Think it's a Sign from God. 

But don't quote me on that -

I think that's a smart move, Mike. 

I'm not gonna call a press conference and tell everyone to start praying.

[ Couldn't Hurt, though - ]

I'm Winston Zeddemore, Your Honor. 

Look, I've only been with The Company for a couple of weeks.

But I gotta tell you, hese things are real. 
Since I joined These Men, I have seen shit that'll turn you white!

Well, you could believe Mr. Pecker.

PECK My name is Peck!


You Could Accept The Fact That This City is Headed for a Disaster of Biblical Proportions.


What do you mean, 'biblical'?


What he means is, Old Testament, Mr. Mayor. 

Real Wrath-of-God-Type Stuff. 
Fire and brimstone coming from the sky! 
Rivers and seas boiling!
Forty years of Darkness! 
Earthquakes! Volcanoes!
The Dead rising from The Grave!


Human Sacrifice, 
Dogs and Cats living together, 
Enough! I get The Point! 
 What if You're Wrong?

If I'm Wrong, Nothing Happens! 

We go to Jail. 
Peacefully, Quietly. 
We'll Enjoy it!

But, if I'm right
and we can stop This Thing..... 

Lenny – YOU Will have Saved The Lives 
of registered voters.

MAYOR smiles. 
all the wind sucked out of his sails
I don't believe you're seriously considering listening to these men.
PETER smiles a smug smile.
Get him out of here.


I'll fix you, Venkman. 
I'm gonna fix you!
I am going to send you a nice fruit basket. 
I'm gonna miss him!
All right, all right!


You've got Work to do. 
Now What Do You Need from Me?