PANTOMIME

Frankie, tell Luca to go outside 

and do You Know What.

Do you know Who I Am, Mr. Worley?

I give up. Who are you?

I'm The Antichrist. You got me in a vendetta kind of mood.

You tell The Angels in Heaven you've seen Evil so singularly personified...as you did in 

The Face of The Man Who Killed You.

My name is Vincent Coccotti. I work as counsel for 

Mr. Blue Lou Boyle, 

The Man, Your Son, stole from.

 

I hear you were once A Cop, 

so I can assume you have 

heard of Us before.

Am I correct?

 

 

...I've heard of Blue Lou Boyle.

 

I'm glad.

Hopefully, that will clear up The 

"How Full of Shit am I?" Question 

you've been asking yourself.

 

We're gonna have a little Q and A.

And at The Risk of Sounding Redundant --

Please -- make your answers genuine.

 

You want a Chesterfield?

 

No.

 

 

I have a Son of My Own, 

about your boy's age.

I can imagine, how painful 

this must be for you.

But Clarence... and that 

bitch-whore girlfriend of his 

brought this all on themselves.

 

I implore you 

not to go down that road with them.

You could always take comfort in

The Fact You Never Had a Choice.

 

Look, I'd like to help you if I could, 

but I haven't seen Clarence.

 

 

You see that?

 

Ah, shit! Fuck!

 

 

Smarts, don't it?

To get slammed in The Nose.

Fucks you all up.

You get that pain

 shooting through your brain.

Your eyes fill up with water.

That ain't any kind of fun.

But what I have to offer you, 

that's as Good as it's gonna get.

And it won't ever get 

that Good again.

 

We talked to your neighbors.

They saw A Cadillac.

Purple Cadillac.

Clarence's Purple Cadillac, 

parked in front of Your Trailer yesterday.

Mr.Worley - 

You Seen Your Son?

 

 

I've seen him.

 

 

I can't be sure... of how much 

of what he told you, so... 

in the chance you're in The Dark 

about some of this, 

let me shed some Light.

 

That whore Your Boy hangs around with, 

her pimp is an associate of mine.

 

Among his pimping and other affairs --

he Works for Me, in a courier capacity.

 

Well, apparently, that dirty little whore found out we were gonna do some Business... 

 

'Cause Your Son, 

The Cowboy, 

and His Flame...

came into The Room 

guns blazing 

and didn't stop...

Until they were pretty sure 

everybody was dead.

 

What are you talking about?

 

I'm talking about A Massacre.

They snatched My Narcotics.

Hightailed it out of there.

Would have got away with it too, 

but Your Son, fuck-head that he is, 

left his driver's license 

in the dead guy's hand.

.....You know -- 

I don't believe you.

That's of minor importance.

What is of major fucking importance, 

is that I believe you --

Where did they go?

On their honeymoon.

(Low Growl)

I'm getting angry, 

asking the same question 

a second time.

Where did they go?

They didn't tell me.

You just wait a minute 

and listen to me --

I haven't seen Clarence in Three years.

He shows up yesterday...

with a young girl, 

saying that he got married.

He asked for, uh, some quick cash 

to go on a honeymoon.

He asked me if he could borrow $500.

I felt like helping him,

so I wrote him out a check.

We went to breakfast in The Morning --

And that's the last I saw of him,

So Help Me God.

They never thought to tell me

where they were going....

And I never thought to ask.

No!

Don Vincenzo.

You Know -- Sicilians are Great Liars.

The Best in The World.

I'm Sicilian. My Father, 

was The World Heavyweight 

Champion of Sicilian liars.

From growing up with him,

I learned The Pantomime.

There are 17 different things a guy can

do when he lies to give himself away.

A guy's got 17 pantomimes. 

A Woman's got 20.

A guy's got 17. 

But if you know them 

like you know your own face, 

they beat lie detectors all to hell.

Now, what we got here is a

little Game of Show-and-Tell.

You don't wanna show me nothing,

but you're telling me everything.

I know You Know 

where they are, so... 

Tell me... before I do some damage 

you won't walk away from.

Could I have one of those 

Chesterfields now?

Sure.

You got a... match? No. Wait. No, no.

Don't bother. I got one.

You're Sicilian, huh?

Yeah. Sicilian.

You know... I read a lot,

especially about things -- 

about History.

I find that shit fascinating.

Here's a fact I don't know

whether you know or not --

Sicilians were 

spawned by n*ggers.

....Come again?

No, it's-- it's a fact.

Yeah. You see, uh,

Sicilians have, uh,

Black Blood pumping 

through their hearts.

If you -- If you don't believe

me, uh, you can look it up.

Hundreds and hundreds of

years ago, uh, you see, um,

The Moors conquered Sicily.

And The Moors are n*ggers.

You see, way back then, uh,

Sicilians were like, uh,

wops from northern Italy.

They all had blond hair 

and blue eyes.

But, uh, well--

then the Moors moved in there, and...

well, they changed the whole country.

They did so much fucking

with Sicilian women...

that they changed the

whole bloodline forever.

That's why...

blond hair and blue eyes

became black hair and dark skin.

You know, it's absolutely amazing to me...

to think that to this day,

hundreds of years later,

that-- that Sicilians...

still carry that n*gger gene.

Now, this--

No, I'm quoting history.

It's written. It's a fact. It's written.

I love this guy.

No.

Your ancestors are n*ggers. Huh?

Hey.

Yeah.

And-- And your

great-great-great-great- grandmother

fucked a n*gger.

Yeah. And she had a half-n*gger kid.

Now, if that's a fact, 

Tell Me -- am I lying?

'Cause you -- You're part eggplant.

Huh? Hey, hey, hey.

You're a cantaloupe.

That's beautiful.

I haven't killed anybody...

since 1984.

Go to this comedian's son's apartment.

Come back with something that

tells me where that asshole went...

so I can wipe this egg off my face.

Fix this fucked-up family for good.

Hey, boss.

Get ready to be happy.

The Hollywood Vampires

Youth and Talent will never beat Age and Treachery."

Alice Cooper's identity crisis

By BY PHILLIP VALYS and SOUTHFLORIDA.COM

OCT 25, 2013 AT 9:49 AM

Shock rocker Alice Cooper welcomes you to his nightmare Sunday night at the Hard Rock Live in Hollywood. (Hard Rock Live/Courtesy)

In September, Alice Cooper recorded vocals for a new covers album that will pay tribute to his old drinking buddies, the so-called Hollywood Vampires. The honorary members of his underground booze club: Keith Moon, Mickey Dolenz, John Lennon, Jimi Hendrix, Jim Morrison.

Throwing classic rock covers into his concerts is hardly new for the self-proclaimed "old vampire," who during shows often bounds through a cemetery growling Hendrix's "Foxy Lady" and the Who's "My Generation."

But when the theatrical monster unveils this as-yet untitled album next spring, it will reflect a troubling time in Cooper's four-decade career of wickedness and camp: the heady, alcohol-fueled hedonism of the early-1970s.

"It was a gray area. I didn't know where I started and where I ended," recalls Cooper, speaking by phone from the couch of his home in Phoenix, on the eve of a tour that stops at the Hard Rock Live on Sunday. "That was until I realized that what killed Jimi Hendrix and Jim Morrison was they tried to be rock stars 24 hours a day, instead of switching it off. I realized, 'I'm going to be a little smarter than that.'"

The man born Vincent Damon Furnier is now 32 years sober and, no doubt, knows who he is. This Alice Cooper – the guy on the couch, with a rerun of "Paranormal Witness" paused on the TV and a Ricola clicking in his teeth, not the maniacal rogue who emerges from a coffin cradling a boa constrictor – is the one who coaches Little League and occasionally golfs at the Jacaranda Golf Club in Plantation when he's in town. He also knows that becoming Alice Cooper, the alter-ego he stitched up Frankenstein-style from the body parts of other rock gods, the man who leaps through the fog banks to growl "School's Out" and "I'm Eighteen," is still the thrill he craves.

[More in Going Out] 2020 Brazilian Festival moves from Pompano Beach to Fort Lauderdale »

"People used to think I was out terrorizing some schoolchildren when I wasn't on a stage," Cooper deadpans. "I'm actually very ordinary without my top hat."

But Cooper recalls a time when he wasn't always so clear on the division between monster and man: when he swung back a few with the Vampires at Hollywood's Rainbow Bar, which provided as many lost weekends as bizarre memories. "Keith would come dressed as Adolf Hitler, or the Queen of England, or a French maid," Cooper says with a laugh.

"I think that, with this album, people will like that there's some authenticity to Alice doing these songs," Cooper says.

This Alice Cooper – not the guy on the couch, but the one who has sparked imitators in everyone from Rob Zombie to Marilyn Manson – spent the summer touring with the latter. Manson, he says, could not stop sharing his admiration.

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"It turned out to be the best tour. Every night we'd try to outdo each other," he says, shifting the cough drop in his mouth. "But I've got the 14 Top-40 songs that everybody knows. I'm still here to blow you off the stage. Youth and talent will never beat age and treachery."

Never Hate Your Enemies -- Even You Father.

Mr. Corleone, all Bastards are Liars. 

Shakespeare wrote poems about it.

Michael, you know Vincent Mancini -- 

Sonny’s Boy.

 

 

PLUTARCH'S MORALS.

ON EDUCATION.

§ i. Come let us consider what one might say on the education of free children, and by what training they would become good citizens.

§ ii. It is perhaps best to begin with birth: I would therefore warn those who desire to be fathers of notable sons, not to form connections with any kind of women, such as courtesans or mistresses: for those who either on the father or mother's side are ill-born have the disgrace of their origin all their life long irretrievably present with them, and offer a ready handle to abuse and vituperation. So that the poet was wise, who said, "Unless the foundation of a house be well laid, the descendants must of necessity be unfortunate."  

Good birth indeed brings with it a store of assurance, which ought to be greatly valued by all who desire legitimate offspring. For the spirit of those who are a spurious and bastard breed is apt to be mean and abject: for as the poet truly says, "It makes a man even of noble spirit servile, when he is conscious of the ill fame of either his father or mother." 

On the other hand the sons of illustrious parents are full of Pride and arrogance. As an instance of this it is recorded of Diophantus, the son of Themistocles, that he often used to say to various people "that he could do what he pleased with the Athenian people, for what he wished his mother wished, and what she wished Themistocles wished, and what Themistocles wished all the Athenians wished." 

All praise also ought we to bestow on the Lacedæmonians for their loftiness of soul in fining their King Archidamus for venturing to marry a small woman, for they charged him with intending to furnish them not with Kings but Kinglets.

§ iii. Next must we mention, what was not overlooked even by those who handled this subject before us, that those who approach their wives for procreation must do so either without having drunk any wine or at least very little. For those children, that their parents begot in drink, are wont to be fond of wine and apt to turn out drunkards. And so Diogenes, seeing a youth out of his mind and crazy, said, "Young man, your father was drunk when he begot you." 

 Let this hint serve as to Procreation: now let us discuss Education.

 

 

  

 

 

 

CUT TO: A helicopter carrying Michael and Vincent. They are traveling to the meeting that Don Altobello had arranged at Michael's request.

VINCENT

I'd like to take Joey Zasa up for a ride in this and drop him.

MICHAEL

Joey Zasa is nothing. He's a small time enforcer – Mobs, threats, nothing. We'll be able to see him coming, a mile away.

VINCENT

We should kill him before he kills --

MICHAEL

No!

(then)

Never Hate Your Enemies. It affects your Judgment.

CUT TO: Outside an Atlantic City casino where the Commission meeting is to take place, as set up by Don Altobello on Michael’s request. The Text Over reads: Atlantic City, New Jersey.

<Michael and Vincent are welcomed ["Nice to see you again, Mr. Corleone. Mr. Mancini."].

CUT TO: Suite where Commission meeting is to be held.

<A band is playing and women are milling about the busy room full of Dons. Joey Zasa enters and Michael and Vincent enter shortly after. On Michael's arrival the band stops playing and the women are ushered from the room. Vincent nods at Joey Zasa. Once the room is cleared of all but those at the meeting, Don Altobello begins proceedings.>

DON ALTOBELLO (addressing Michael to the Commission)

We entrusted you to manage our money in the casinos. It's not even, twenty years. You sold the casinos, and you made fortunes for all of us. Bravo Don Corleone!

<The room applauds Michael. Joey Zasa gives a half-hearted clap.>

MICHAEL

Thank you. Friends, I have come here, because, our business together is done. We have prospered, and now it is time for us, to dissolve, the business relationship between us.

<There are murmurs of protest.>

MICHAEL

That's it. But I do have a little surprise

(then, to Neri)

Al?

<Al removes a bundle of envelopes from his jacket.>

MICHAEL

Your shares, in the casinos. I thought I'd cut through all the red tape so you can get your money right away.

<This news is met with a more positive response.>

A DON

Fifty million dollars!

<Vincent is passing out envelopes.>

MICHAEL

Not everyone gets the same…

VINCENT (whispering into Joey Zasa’s ear)

Nothing for you…

MICHAEL

…It depends how much you invested, and how long for.

<The Dons all marvel at how much they have just received, "Wonderful! Woah! Grazie!">

A DON

Michael, this is really generous!

A DON

Hey, Perisi, how much did you invest?

DON PERISI (putting his envelope in his jacket pocket)

I don’t remember…

DON ALTOBELLO

Michael, you're blessed.

<Joey Zasa has heard enough.>

ZASA

My family has done much of the hard work; taken many risks. All to make money, for the rest of the families.

MICHAEL

You all know Joey Zasa. He is, I admit, an important man. His picture is on the cover of the New York Times magazine. He gets the Esquire magazine award, for the best-dressed gangster! The newspapers praise him, because, he hires Blacks into his family, which shows he has a good heart. He, is famous. Who knows? Maybe one day, he will make all of you, popular.

ZASA

It's true. I make more of a, bella figura, that is my nature. But I also want to make a move into, legitimate enterprises. I'd like to get a little pin from the Pope. Sure, I take the Blacks and the Spanish into my family, because, that's America.

MICHAEL

And you guarantee, they don't deal drugs in those neighborhoods.

ZASA

I don't guarantee that. I guarantee I'll kill anybody who does.

DON ALTOBELLO

Let me talk to him, let me talk to him.

MICHAEL

Who can refuse, Don Altobello…

<The Dons are passing around a tray full of gold jewelry and pearls, and each take one.>

DON ALTOBELLO

Joey...

JOEY (interrupts)

NO! I say to all of you, I have been treated this day, with no respect. I've earned you all money. I've made you rich, and I asked for little. Good. You will not give, I'll take! As for Don, Corleone, well he makes it, very clear to me today, that he is my enemy. You must choose between us.

<Joey storms out. Don Altobello chases after him.>

ALTOBELLO

Hey Joey – no – Joey – no – Joey …

(then, to Michael)

We can reason together – no – Michael, Michael – please, let’s agreed, huh?

MICHAEL

No, Altobello…

<Altobello exists the room>

PERISI

Uh, Michael, Michael. The news is everywhere. Everyone is saying that, you control Immobiliare.

<The Dons begin talking at once.>

A DON

Immobiliare already is laundering money in Peru, in Nassau, we know that…

A DON

Listen to me, Michael…

A DON

Michael, why shouldn’t…

A DON

We should wet our beaks a little…

A DON

We want to do business with you, Michael – we’ve been together for many…

A DON

We could wash our money clean … with holy water…

<Michael stays silent as everyone talks to him, but the talking suddenly stops as a rumbling noise is heard and the room starts to shake. Vincent reacts first.>

VINCENT (to Michael): It’s a hit -- Let's go.

<The meeting disbands and everyone leaps up to leave. "Let’s get outta here!" On the outside of the room, someone snaps a pair of handcuffs over the doorknobs, locking the Dons in the room. A helicopter appears overhead and machine gun fire rips through the glass ceiling of the room. Vincent protects Michael as a massacre ensues.>

VOICE (to a Don)

Forget your coat!

A DON (trying to retrieve his coat before being riddled with bullets)

It’s my lucky coat! It’s my lucky coat!

<Al Neri retrieves a shotgun from behind the bar and blasts a door open.>

AL NERI

Mikey, this way!

<Michael and Vincent escape through this door.>

A DON (laying, bleeding, on the floor)

Zasa! You son of a bitch!

Vincent breaks into a car and opens the door for Michael.

VINCENT

Come on. We're outta here.

<Vincent and Michael escape as we see shots of the remains of the room, and of the bodies that fill it.>
 

 

 

 

SCENE I. King Lear's palace.

    Enter KENT, GLOUCESTER, and EDMUND

KENT

    I thought the king had more affected the Duke of
    Albany than Cornwall.

GLOUCESTER

    It did always seem so to us: but now, in the
    division of the kingdom, it appears not which of
    the dukes he values most; for equalities are so
    weighed, that curiosity in neither can make choice
    of either's moiety.

KENT

    Is not this your son, my lord?

GLOUCESTER

    His breeding, sir, hath been at my charge: I have
    so often blushed to acknowledge him, that now I am
    brazed to it.

KENT

    I cannot conceive you.

GLOUCESTER

    Sir, this young fellow's mother could: whereupon
    she grew round-wombed, and had, indeed, sir, a son
    for her cradle ere she had a husband for her bed.
    Do you smell a fault?

KENT

    I cannot wish the fault undone, the issue of it
    being so proper.

GLOUCESTER

    But I have, sir, a son by order of law, some year
    elder than this, who yet is no dearer in my account:
    though this knave came something saucily into the
    world before he was sent for, yet was his mother
    fair; there was good sport at his making, and the
    whoreson must be acknowledged. Do you know this
    noble gentleman, Edmund?

EDMUND

    No, my lord.

GLOUCESTER

    My lord of Kent: remember him hereafter as my
    honourable friend.

EDMUND

    My services to your lordship.

KENT

    I must love you, and sue to know you better.

EDMUND

    Sir, I shall study deserving.

GLOUCESTER

    He hath been out nine years, and away he shall
    again. The King is coming.


    Sennet. Enter KING LEAR, CORNWALL, ALBANY, GONERIL, REGAN, CORDELIA, and Attendants

KING LEAR

    Attend The Lords of France and Burgundy, Gloucester.

GLOUCESTER

    I shall, My Liege.

    Exeunt GLOUCESTER and EDMUND -- The Bastard Goes WITH Him.




SCENE II. The Earl of Gloucester's castle.

    Enter EDMUND, with a letter

EDMUND

    Thou, nature, art my goddess; to thy law
    My services are bound. Wherefore should I
    Stand in the plague of custom, and permit
    The curiosity of nations to deprive me,
    For that I am some twelve or fourteen moon-shines
    Lag of a brother? Why bastard? wherefore base?
    When my dimensions are as well compact,
    My mind as generous, and my shape as true,
    As honest madam's issue? Why brand they us
    With base? with baseness? bastardy? base, base?
    Who, in the lusty stealth of nature, take
    More composition and fierce quality
    Than doth, within a dull, stale, tired bed,
    Go to the creating a whole tribe of fops,
    Got 'tween asleep and wake? Well, then,
    Legitimate Edgar, I must have your land:
    Our Father's love is to the bastard Edmund
    As to the legitimate: fine word,--legitimate!
    Well, my legitimate, if this letter speed,
    And my invention thrive, Edmund The Base
    Shall top The Legitimate. I grow; I prosper:
    Now, Gods, Stand Up for Bastards!

    Enter GLOUCESTER

King John receives an ambassador from France who demands with a threat of war that he renounce his throne in favour of his nephew, Arthur, whom the French King Philip believes to be the rightful heir to the throne.

John adjudicates an inheritance dispute between Robert Faulconbridge and his older brother Philip the Bastard, during which it becomes apparent that Philip is the illegitimate son of King Richard I. Queen Eleanor, mother to both Richard and John, recognises the family resemblance and suggests that he renounce his claim to the Faulconbridge land in exchange for a knighthood. 

John Knights Philip The Bastard under the name Richard.

A 19th century drawing by Thomas Nast

In France, King Philip and his forces besiege the English-ruled town of Angers, threatening attack unless its citizens support Arthur. Philip is supported by Austria, who is believed to have killed King Richard. The English contingent arrives; and then Eleanor trades insults with Constance, Arthur’s mother. Kings Philip and John stake their claims in front of Angers’ citizens, but to no avail: their representative says that they will support the rightful king, whoever that turns out to be.

The French and English armies clash, but no clear victor emerges. Each army dispatches a herald claiming victory, but Angers’ citizens continue to refuse to recognize either claimant because neither army has proven victorious.

The Bastard proposes that England and France unite to punish the rebellious citizens of Angers, at which point the citizens propose an alternative: Philip’s son, Louis the Dauphin, should marry John’s niece Blanche (a scheme that gives John a stronger claim to the throne) while Louis gains territory for France. Though a furious Constance accuses Philip of abandoning Arthur, Louis and Blanche are married.

Cardinal Pandolf arrives from Rome bearing a formal accusation that John has disobeyed the Pope and appointed an archbishop contrary to his desires. John refuses to recant, whereupon he is excommunicated. Pandolf pledges his support for Louis, though Philip is hesitant, having just established family ties with John. Pandolf brings him round by pointing out that his links to the church are older and firmer.

War breaks out; Austria is beheaded by the Bastard in revenge for his father’s death; and both Angers and Arthur are captured by the English. Eleanor is left in charge of English possessions in France, while the Bastard is sent to collect funds from English monasteries. John orders Hubert to kill Arthur. Pandolf suggests to Louis that he now has as strong a claim to the English throne as Arthur (and indeed John), and Louis agrees to invade England.

A Lithograph depicting Act III Scene I

Hubert finds himself unable to kill Arthur. John’s nobles urge Arthur’s release. John agrees, but is wrong-footed by Hubert’s announcement that Arthur is dead. The nobles, believing he was murdered, defect to Louis’ side. Equally upsetting, and more heartbreaking to John, is the news of his mother’s death, along with that of Lady Constance. The Bastard reports that the monasteries are unhappy about John’s attempt to seize their gold. Hubert has a furious argument with John, during which he reveals that Arthur is still alive. John, delighted, sends him to report the news to the nobles.

Arthur dies jumping from a castle wall. 

(It is open to interpretation whether he deliberately kills himself or just makes a risky escape attempt.) 

The nobles believe he was murdered by John, and refuse to believe Hubert’s entreaties. John attempts to make a deal with Pandolf, swearing allegiance to the Pope in exchange for Pandolf’s negotiating with the French on his behalf. John orders the Bastard, one of his few remaining loyal subjects, to lead the English army against France.

While John’s former noblemen swear allegiance to Louis, Pandolf explains John’s scheme, but Louis refuses to be taken in by it. The Bastard arrives with the English army and threatens Louis, but to no avail. War breaks out with substantial losses on each side, including Louis’ reinforcements, who are drowned during the sea crossing. Many English nobles return to John’s side after a dying French nobleman, Melun, warns them that Louis plans to kill them after his victory.

John is poisoned by a disgruntled monk. His nobles gather around him as he dies. 

The Bastard plans the final assault on Louis’ forces, until he is told that Pandolf has arrived with a peace treaty. The English nobles swear allegiance to John’s son Prince Henry, and the Bastard reflects that this episode has taught that internal bickering could be as perilous to England’s fortunes as foreign invasion.

Grouch Lives Matter

Progressive Politics can offer no Hope to The Homeless, but it does demand that they be referred to as 'under-housed', 'involuntarily undomiclied', or 'house-less'.



VINCENT :

And how long do you intend to Walk The Earth? 

‘Til God puts me where He wants me to be.

VINCENT :

What if He don't do that? 

If it takes forever, then I'll Walk forever. 

VINCENT :

So you decided to be a bum. 

I'll just be Jules, Vincent. 

No more, no less. 

VINCENT :

No, Jules, you decided to be a bum, just like all those pieces of shit out there who beg for change, who sleep in garbage bins, eat what I throw away. 

They got a name for that, Jules - It's called a bum. 

And without a job, a residence or legal tender, that's what you're gonna be, man. 

You're gonna be a fuckin' bum. 

Dave Chapelle on Racism and Sesame Street

"They use the TV to program us, from a young age. You ever watch, like, a cartoon that you used to watch when you were little as an adult? That shit is wild shit.. Some wild shit. 

I mean, I was with my nephew. We’re sitting there, we’re watching Pepé Le Pew. 

And I say to my nephew, I said “Now pay attention to this guy cause he’s funny. I used to watch him when I was little.” 

And we’re watching Pepé Le Pew and I’m old now. 

And I’m like “Good God… what kind of fucking rapist is this guy? Like, take it easy, Pepé.” 

My nephew was sitting there cracking up: “Hehehe! See? Sometimes you gotta take The Pussy like Pepé. 

You’re like “No!” Nooo!” I had to turn the channel real quick.

I turn on Sesame Street and I say (phew) “Sesame Street.” This is much better cause now he’ll learn how to count and spell.” But now I’m watching it as an adult and I realize Sesame Street teaches kids other things: It teaches kids how to judge people and label people. 

That’s right. They got a character on there named Oscar… and treat this guy like shit the entire show. 

They Judge him right in his face : “Oscar, you are so mean. Isn’t he, kids?” 

“Yeah, Oscar. You’re a grouch.” 

He’s like, “BITCH, I live in a FUCKING trash can!” I’m the poorest motherfucker on Sesame Street! “Nobody’s helping me.” 

Then you wonder why the kids roll up and step over homeless people. 

“Get it together, Grouch.” 

“Get a job, Grouch.”

So don’t even tell me how to get to Sesame Street. It’s a terrible place. I wouldn’t go there if I knew the way. Who would wanna live in a neighborhood like that? Fucking six-foot pigeons walking around and… and elephant that’s a junkie. “HI, BIRD.” Yeah, that’s right. Snuffy! “HI, BIRD. I’m sick. I need some smack, BIRD.” The Cookie Monster with his eyes popping out of his head, screaming: “Cookie cookie cookie!” You’re like, “Ergh!” What kind of cookies are you talking about? “Chocolate chips don’t do that to people.” 

And they had the nerve to put a pimp on there. They didn’t come out and say he was a pimp, but I know a pimp when I see one. They called him The Count. Had a cape and everything. You’d have seen him pimping. “Bitch, where is my money?” You’ve been late four times. I’ve been counting. How many times must I smack you before you act right? One! Two! TWO SMACKS! “Ah, Ah, Ah, Ah, Ah, ah, ahhhh…”

That’s the thing. There’s so many stuff… there’s just so much stuff to worry about. You know, the more you know, the more you don’t know and shit. You know. Like a lot of people are telling me, “Dave, you know, you just gotta relax. That Racism Thing has been bugging you too much.” 

I’ll be thinking about it - Sometimes shit will happen. You know. A lot of black people will relate to this. Have you ever had something happen that was so racist that you didn’t even get mad? It’s like, “Goddamn. That was rac… that was racist.” I mean it was so blatant, you were just like “Wow!” Like you were almost like, it didn’t even happen to you. It was like a fucking movie. That was like you were just watching Mississippi Burning: “Wooow.” 

That happened to me. I was in Mississippi. I was in Mississippi doing a show. 

And I go to the restaurant to order some food. And, I say to the guy… I say: “I would like to have…” And before I even my sentence, he says: “The CHICKEN.” I was like, “What the… fuck.” I could not believe it. I could not believe that shit. This man was absolutely right. I said, “How did he know…” that I was going to get some chicken?” I asked him. I said, “How did you know that?” How did you know I was going to get some chicken?” He looked at me like I was crazy. He said, “Come on, buddy. COME ON, BUDDY.” Now everybody knew that as soon as you walked through the goddamn door… you were gonna get some chicken. It ain’t no secret down here “that blacks and chickens are quite fond of one another.” And then I finally understood what he was saying, and I got upset. I wasn’t even mad. I was just upset. I wasn’t ready to hear that shit. All these years, I thought I liked chicken because it was delicious. Turns out I’m genetically predisposed to liking chicken. That shit is whack. I got no say in the matter. That guy ruined chicken for me. I’m scared to eat it in public. I don’t want someone to see me and say something. You know what I mean? You’ll be eating some chicken: (CRUNCH) (crunch) (crunch-crunch) “Look at him.” He loves it. Just like it said in the encyclopedia. “Look how happy he looks.”

Sometimes, that’s gonna be too much to deal with. That show business be crazy. That’s where the cultures really collide. Show business bring a lot of races together. Sometimes it works, sometimes it don’t. This is one thing that happens that’s funny. You sometimes I’ll be on a business call, right? You know, like, with… with a lawyer or something. You know, my lawyers be white. And uh… So like, we’ll be on a call, right? And they’ll be like: “OK, Dave, we’re gonna close the deal.” Is that fine with you? I’ll be, like, “Yeah, that’s good for me.” “Great! Great. You have a good weekend, Dave.” I’ll be like, “Alright. You too, man. Peace.” “Uh… all right now. Bye-bye.” They don’t know what to say, right? So sometimes I’ll make up shit that’s not even slang. Just to see how they handle it and shit. It’ll be the same thing, they just go: “All right, we’re gonna close the deal. Is that fine with you, Dave?” “Yeah, it sounds good to me.” “Great. You have a good weekend, Dave.” “All right, buddy. Zip it up, and zip it out.” He’ll be like… “Uh…” All right. “Zippity-doo-dah, bye-BYE.”

SAINTS

Touching final scene from the movie "St. Vincent", 

Starring Bill Murray.

"Saints are Human Beings we celebrate for their commitment and dedication to other Human Beings."

Brother Gerharty, 

circa-around March.

(Laughs.)

INT. ST. FRANCIS DE SALES - AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS

Oliver’s in mid-presentation. On the massive projection screen behind him, we see a portrait of St. William of Rochester. Click. 

The screen refreshes...and a picture of Vin pops up.

OLIVER :

For my Modern Day Saint, I chose a man who shares many of the same qualities as St. William of Rochester:

INT. ST. FRANCIS DE SALES - CONTINUOUS

Outside the auditorium. Vincent stands in front of a marquee board. It’s the “Saint Wall.” Under each student’s name are two pictures: a real Saint next to a Modern Day Saint.

 

Under Oliver Bornstein, we find: St. William of Rochester and...Vincent Canatella. 

And he’s one fucked-up looking “Saint.” Eyes black, face distorted, assuredly on drugs, lying in his hospital bed.

 

Vin stares at the picture of himself.

He hears Oliver’s voice within. 

Walks to the auditorium doors.

On the surface, one might think that my candidate is least-likely for sainthood : 

He's NOT a Happy Person.

He doesn't like People, and not many people like him.

He's grumpy, angry, mad at The World and I'm sure, full of regrets.

He drinks too much, smokes, he gambles, curses, lies and cheats. 

And he spends a lot of time with a Lady of The Night.

But that's what you see at first glace -- 

if you dig deeper, you'll see A Man Beyond His Flaws.

Mr. Vincent Mckenna was born in 1946 in Sheepshead Bay, the son of first generation Irish immigrants.

Growing up poor on the streets of Brooklyn, Vincent learned all the things a kid SHOULDN'T need to know. 

Fighting, cursing and gambling.

The slide show shuffles images of VINCENT AS A BABY.

Then a YOUNG BOY. Poor. Tough. Street. Pictures of a hard life. 

All the memories Vin had tossed in the trash.

In 1965, as a member of United States Army’s 5th Regiment, Vincent was among the 450 soldiers dropped into the la Drang Valley, and immediately ambushed by 2000 Enemy troops.

A headshot of Vincent as a young Marine in Vietnam. 

Smoking a cigarette, proud, strong.

There, he heroically saved the lives of two wounded officers pinned down by enemy fire,  and carried them to safety.

He was awarded the Bronze Star for his Bravery.

Newspaper clippings of Vin’s heroics. 

A picture of Vin receiving the Bronze Star. 

In the back of the auditorium, Vin is frozen...seeing his life through the eyes of another.

I imagine the best way I can tell you who Vincent McKenna is...is to tell you what he’s done for me.

When me and my mom first moved here, we knew no one. 

And Mr. McKenna took me in -- when he didn’t HAVE to, and most likely didn’t WANT to.

But he did it anyhow. 

Because THAT'S What Saints Do.

A wedding picture of Vin and Sandy pops up on the screen.

We visited his wife, Sandy, of forty years who recently passed away.

Vin did her laundry every week for the past eight years, long after she no longer recognized him.

Because Saints NEVER Give Up.

A picture of VIN AS A FIGHTER, with boxing gloves on.

HE TAUGHT ME HOW TO FIGHT - HOW TO STAND MY GROUND AND BE BRAVE - HOW TO SPEAK-UP AND BE BOLD

Because Saints Fight for Themselves and Others - 

So That They Might Be HEARD.

He taught me How to Gamble. 

Horse racing, Keno, the over and under --

Which is a big reason why I’m grounded till I’m eighteen.

But in that, I learned how to take risks and go for broke. 

Because in Life, the odds can be stacked against you.

This is Vin’s cat, Felix, who eats gourmet cat food, while Vin eats sardines.

Because Saints Make SACRIFICES.

Yes, Mr. Vincent McKenna is flawed -- SERIOUSLY flawed.

But just like all the other Saints we have studied.

Because after all, Saints are Human Beings. VERY human beings.

Courage, Sacrifice, Compassion, Humanity

These are the markings of a Saint. 

And what makes Mr. Vincent McKenna not so far removed from William of Rochester...

And with that, I’d like to present my friend and baby sitter, Mr. Vincent McKenna for Sainthood.

And hereby proclaim him 

St. Vincent Sheepshead Bay.

The place is wild with applause.

Vin doesn’t know what to do. People are looking around for him. Finally...he starts walking down the aisle.

Brother Crespi helps Vin up the steps. And towards Oliver, who’s holding the “Saint Medal.”

Vin steps in front of Oliver. He leans over as Oliver puts the medal around his neck.

VINCENT :

Thanks, kkkid.

OLIVER :

Thank you, sir.

And...without warning...Vin starts crying. 

Maybe for the first time in his life.

PEOPLE rise in their seats to applaud him.

Oliver hugs Vin.

I Have Been BADLY Betrayed....

dickless (n.)

   A State of Being or Manner of Life characterised by a ready willingness to throw some other poor bastard (albeit possibly guilty, you just don't know) completely Under The proverbial Bus, in favour of sparing your own worthless hide.

c.f. "Don't Do it to Me, Do it to Julia! To JULIA!!"

History lesson for you, Vinnie.

I know you're not well-educated, so, uh- let me enlighten you —

The term "dildo" was first coined in around 1400 AD.

It originates from the Latin ‘dilatare’, which means 'open wide'.

The Dick, Vincent.

The Penis, The Slongker, The Cock, The Old Fella.... 

Has been revered and replicated since the start of humanity.

And now, you ...

and you...

are about to lose yours.

Boss Falcone :

Yeah, Dr. Crane, l can't take it anymore.

lt's all too much.

The walls are closing in.

Blah, blah, blah.

A couple of days of this food, it'll be true.

Dr. Crane :

What do you want?

Boss Falcone :

l wanna know how you're gonna convince me to keep my mouth shut.

Dr. Crane :

About what?

You don't know anything.

Boss Falcone :

l know you don't want the cops to take a closer look at the drugs they seized.

And l know about your experiments

with the inmates of your nut house.

See, l don't go into business with a guy without finding out his dirty secrets.

And those goons you used.

l own the muscle in this town.

Now, l've been bringing your stuff in for months, so whatever he's planning, it's big, and l want in.

Dr. Crane :

Well, l already know what he'll say.

That we should kill you.

Boss Falcone :

Even he can't get me in here.

Not in my town.

Vinnie :

Ay up, Si.

Do you want it after all? 

Vin, where did you get them antiques? 

You know the rules.

Ask me no questions, I'll tell you no lies.

Si, listen, you know — 

Fuck The Rules.

I'm in deep shit here.

You just tell me where you nicked them antiques from.

I didn't nick —

Well, I did.

I nicked a car, and the antiques, they were in the boot.

What's going on? 

Just get down here.

Why? 

Just get down here now.

Don't tell anyone you're coming.

All right.

Si, what's going - Si? 

Black Skinhead Oi! 

Get up, you little fucker.

Get up! 

History lesson for you, Vinnie.

I know you're not well-educated, so, uh- let me enlighten you.

The term "dildo" was first coined in around 1400 AD.

It originates from the Latin ‘dilatare’, which means 'open wide'.

The Dick, Vincent.

The Penis, The Slongker, The Cock, The Old Fella.... has been revered and replicated since the start of humanity.

And now, you ...

and you...

are about to lose yours.

No.

Please.

It was in —

Shut it.

Where's my antique dildo? 

On a farm.

Which farm? 

Jim's farm.

I can get it back, though.

Who stole 'em? 

I don't know.

Who was driving the car you nicked? 

I don't know Oh, fuck! A young guy.

Fuck, I didn't really see him.

He might have had brown hair.

Told you, didn't I? In the hospital, do you remember? 

I said, "If our paths cross again." 

I know, but all this —

I didn't know it had your things in it, and I'll get 'em back! 

I'll fuck I'll get you whatever you want! 

Cut his dick off.

No, no, no! Give me an hour! 

Give me one hour! 

I know where it is.

This is just a mistake, this.

All right, you, trousers off.

What?! 

I could find out the owner of that car.

I fucking can I'll find out I'll get it back.

My friend's a mechanic.

Fucking trousers off! 

My friend's a mechanic —

Boxers.

Fuck 

Boxers.

Mr McCann No! Wait, wait! 

Just - Just  - Don't — 

All right, now, say bye-bye to it.

Why? Why? 

Say bye-bye.

Fuck - This is fucking madness, man.

Say it! 

Bye, bye, byebye.

Properly.

You can't do this.

Don't - Please don't cut my dick off in a pawn shop, man.

Don't - Don't - Fuck.

Vin! You will always remember the moment before you become dickless.

It's The End of One Life and The Start of Another.

Pre and post-dick.

I have been •BADLY• betrayed, and the only people with knowledge of my antiques are people that know my house, people who come and go, people with regular access.

I want to fucking know.

I •have• to fucking know.

I can find out.

I fucking can.

I can find out.

OK - You find out who took that dildo, you keep your dick.

You don't, it comes off.

Do we understand ourselves? 

Yeah.

Do we fucking understand each other?! 

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

Yes.

SLATER :

You and young Rodney are going down for at least a year apiece! 

Unless you give me the name of the mush who nicked the microwave.

DEL BOY :

Oh, leave it out Slater.

You know I can't do that.

It's against my principles! 

My Mum'd turn in her grave if she knew I'd become a copper's nark! 

SLATER :

Well, you're gonna have a lot of time to think about your principles! 

I hope the porridge ain't too lumpy! 

I'll get the charge sheets typed up.

DEL BOY :

Now, just a minute - Roy.

Let's not be hasty! 

I think we can make a deal.

SLATER :

I don't like deals! 

DEL BOY :

You're gonna like this one! 

If I give you the name of the bloke that stole that oven, 

you let Rodney and Grandad go - no charges.

SLATER :

Yeah, alright.

I'll let them go.

And you'll also drop all charges against me! 

SLATER :

Oh come on Del, I'm looking forward to that! 

You don't seem to understand what I'm saying Slater! 

Once I give you the name, I'll be one of your grasses.

SLATER :

Oh Del, Del Boy, that is beautiful! 

You would be one of my Merry Men! 

I'd have you in my pocket, I could bounce you about and make you dance whenever I felt bored! 

And if you ever stepped out of line, I'd let it be known on the streets that you're an informer! 

DEL BOY :

Yeah! I know! 

SLATER :

The deal's on my old hoppo.

I'll drop the charges against you, you have My Word.

DEL BOY :

Your Word! 

Your Word means about as much as the guarantee on that hooky microwave! 

No, I want immunity from prosecution.

And I want it in writing and I want it signed, sealed and delivered.

SLATER :

I'll get it arranged right away Derek.

Oh, we're gonna have a good future together you and me, I can feel it.

What's up Del? Cursing the day you crossed me? 

DEL BOY :

No, I'm cursing the day I made them stop at your belly button! 

Why's he keeping Del Boy in there? 

That's about the 38th time you've asked me that in the last 'alf hour! 

And for the 38th time Grandad, I'm telling you, I don't know.

I thought he'd just charge Del with receiving, he'd get a fifty pound fine, and then it would all be forgot about! 

That's what I thought! 

So did I! So why's he keeping him in there? 

Gawd bless my old brown I don't bloody know Grandad.

Well, Rodney —

PC HOSKINS :

Look I thought I told you two you were free to go! 

Oh, we thought we'd hang on for a while.

Yeah, it's good here, innit?

SLATER :

Still here?

We're waiting for Del.

GRANDAD TROTTER :

Will he be long son? 

SLATER :

Only as long as it takes him to tell me who nicked the microwave.

Better get our heads down till the morning then! 

Oh, no, Del's seen the light.

He's decided to cooperate.

No, you're pulling our legs! 

SLATER :

D'you reckon? 

Why don't you come in and see for yourself.

Come on.

Alright Hoskins, away you go, canteen's open now.

PC Hoskins :

Oh, thank you very much, sir.

SLATER :

There you are, Del Boy, your immunity from prosecution, signed by the Superintendent himself.

What are you playing at, Del??!! 

DEL BOY :

What're they doing 'ere? 

SLATER :

Oh I thought it'd be interesting for them to see you in your real light.

The Great Del Boy, the man who could talk his way out of a room with no doors, reduced to this, grassing.

DEL BOY :

I've gotta tell him Rodney.

He's got me all ends up — I've got no choice.

But you don't know his name Del.

He was just a bloke in the market! 

DEL BOY :

Oh leave it out, Grandad.

If Mr Slater was to believe our descriptions he'd have his men searching for a someone who's a cross between Tom Thumb and the Jolly Green Giant! 

SLATER :

With a deaf-aid! 

DEL BOY :

With a deaf aid! 

Rodney, I wasn't doing it just for myself.

He threatened to plant something on you and set you up for a bit of bird.

But, but that's against the law! 

SLATER :

Well phone the Police! 

Don't tell him Del.

DEL BOY :

Look, I've got to Rodney.

Otherwise it'll mean you and me will go down the road and Grandad's gonna be left alone on the estate, see? 

I've got no choice, I've got no choice! 

Alright Mr. Slater let's get down to business.

SLATER :

Oh Del, Del Boy, those words are music to my ears.

I will cherish this moment! 

Righto Del, who nicked it? 

DEL BOY :

They are free to go ain't they? 

SLATER :

Yeah, they're free to go - no charges, they can leave whenever they like.

OK, give me his name.

DEL BOY :

You've got nothing on me either? 

SLATER :

No! You've got an immunity from prosecution.

You've got less chance of a pull than the Queen.

DEL BOY :

Long as I know.

SLATER :

Right, for the third and last time of asking, who nicked the microwave off the back of the lorry? 

[ Del signs the document guaranteeing his immunity from prosecution. ]

DEL BOY :

I did!