He’s Cool.

Tommy T. :

Thank you all for coming. 

And let me just say how truly, deeply trill it is 

to be standing in this dope-ass conference room 

and addressing a group of people 

in a business meeting. 

It's really a dream come true. 

Uh, right now I want to turn the floor over to 

Jean-Ralphio, who has something to say —

Rosemary’s Baby :

Tom. Lawyer-Guy. Daddy. 

Tom did not screw me out of The Company. 

He gave me every opportunity to jump in 

at the ground floor, and I said, “No.”;

Not because I thought it was a bad idea, 

but because, and this is very important, 

I really didn't care about 

what was happening. 

So, why exactly did you lie when 

I asked you what had happened? 

Rosemary’s Baby :

Daddy. Daddy. Come on — I lie to you all the time. 

All those math camps I said I went to? (LAUGHING) 

I don't even know what a math camp is. 

Rosemary’s Baby :

So, all those postcards that you sent me, 

all those trophies that you'd won... 

Rosemary’s Baby :

(SINGING) Trophies I bought —

Rosemary’s Other Baby :

(MONA-LISA CHUCKLES) 

I also have something to say. (SIGHS)

 I have done nothing 

Wrong. Ever, in my life. 

The Fonze :

I know this. 

And I love you. 

Rosemary’s Other Baby :

I love you, too, Daddy. 

Money, please — !!

Rosemary’s Baby :

My money —

Tommy T. :

(SIGHS) Dr. Saperstein. Your son is my best friend. 

Yeah. He's like a brother to me. But he's a disaster. 

And your daughter seriously needs to be 

locked up in some sort of insane asylum —

Mmm. 

Tommy T. :

—on an ISLAND. 

Ooh. 

Tommy T. :

— in SPACE. 

Rosemary’s Other Baby :

Calling Home. 

The Fonze :

These two have been huge 

disappointments to me. 

Rosemary’s Baby :

Come on. You love us. 

Tell me you love us, and then — 

admit this guy looks like Beaker 

from The Muppets. 

(MONA-LISA LAUGHING) 

Dad. (LAUGHING) 

(IMITATING MUPPETS) 

Rosemary’s Baby :

But seriously, what are we doing here? 

What are we doing here, Dad? 

Why are we here? 

Tommy T. :

So. Now, you know The Truth. 

Will you back off? 

The Fonze :

No, I will not stop. 

Yes, this all started as 

vengeance for my children.

But The Company is 

making Money now —

Why would I back off just because these 

nincompoops lie to me all the time? 

Rosemary’s Other Baby :

Mmm-hmm. 

The Fonze :

Nope. I'm not going to back off. 

I'm going to continue, and 

I'm going to crush you —

All right. You Two. Are you in for 

Dinner tomorrow night? 

Rosemary’s Baby :

Yes! Yes, Daddy. 

The Fonze :

Blow me a kiss. 

BOTH: Muah. Muah. 

Caught it. 

Rosemary’s Baby :

I love you, Daddy! 

Rosemary’s Other Baby :

I love you, Daddy! 

: I love you, too.

Miramax

Joe Rogan: Tarantino on The REAL truth about Harvey Weinstein

QT :

"....when I finished it and I had been 

on The Film-festival circuit 

with it for a year when the, uh --

when Miramax bought it....

Harvey tried to talk me into 

cutting the torture scene out --"

Joe Rogan :

 -- oh .....The --

QT :

....with Mr. Blonde and 

the guy in the chair, and --

yeah yeah uh 

"He tried to talk me uh -- out of that;

and his reasoning was ---- he might've 

ended up being right, actually --

all right, his reasoning was. "Look, 

Quentin : This is a movie 

that anybody can watch; 

but with that torture scene, 

you're gonna alienate women; 

they're not going to want to see this, 

so you're literally -- You're putting 

your own movie in a little box; 

but without that scene anybody 

can go and see this movie and 

everybody will enjoy it --

And um -- that's kind of actually 

where I became Me -- because 

Harvey was used to winning 

these type of arguments, 

he had a bunch of Yes-Men, 

going  "Yeah, yeah -- ", and 

"You know --" and -- 

But because I had actually been 

on the film festival circuit 

for an entire year --

One, I saw that he was right, 

because people were always 

walking out during that scene, 

sometimes it would be five 

sometimes it would be thirty-five,

alright, they were always 

walking out because --

also it's a film festival, 

so you don't exactly know 

what you're seeing  you know? 

You read it in the catalog, 

it sounds interesting, you know, 

it's not like you know it's 

not like you're being set up 

the way you are when a movie opens 

theatrically, right you know so --

but I didn’t know that, yet --

No that's -- That was

The Moment of Truth, for 

most people, that scene; 

but now I think it's 

the best scene in 

the fuckin' movie --

So, uh --

...and I'd spend a year watching it, 

so I wasn't gonna be buffaloed, and 

I go, "Well, you know, it's that movie, 

it's... what the movie is, and uh, um -- 

You may be right, but I don't care : 

This is the movie and 

it has that scene.” and —

Harvey realised he wasn't going to 

get his way,  and he's used to 

getting his way, I — I stood fast 

and there was like a beat 

of like, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5:

"………Okay, 

We're gonna leave the scene in, 

and I want you to remember that 

it was Miramax who left it alone --"

Joe Rogan :

Wow..... That's, uh.... -- an interesting 

way to control The Situation —

Q.T. :

— right? 

Joe Rogan :

To take it —

Q.T. :

— yeah, 

Joe Rogan :

— bring it all back to him....

A Man for all Seasons - Clip 2 of 3

A Man for all Seasons - Clip 1 of 3

Tasty, Tasty, very, very Tasty —

The first step in the development 

of Taste is to be willing to credit 

your own opinion. 

She asked herself a simple Question that would have sounded corny to the career climbers inside the Beltway : 

How could she do exactly what she was sworn to do? 

How could she protect The Citizens and catch him if he came? 

Dr Lecter obviously had good papers and money. He was brilliant at concealing himself. Take the elegant simplicity of his first hideout after his escape from Memphis — he checked into a four-star hotel next door to a great plastic surgery facility in St Louis. Half the guests had their faces bandaged. He bandaged his own face and lived high on a dead man’s money. 

Among her hundreds of scraps of paper, she had his room service receipts from St Louis. Astronomical. A bottle of Bâtard-Montrachet one hundred twenty-five dollars. How good it must have tasted after all those years of jail food. 

She had asked for copies of everything from Florence and the Italians obliged. From the quality of the print, she thought they must copy with some kind of soot blower. There was no order anywhere. 

Here were Dr Lecter’s personal papers from the Palazzo Capponi. A few notes on Dante in his familiar handwriting, a note to the cleaning lady, a receipt from the Florentine fine grocer Vera dal 1926 for two bottles of Bâtard-Montrachet and some tartufi bianchi. 

Same wine again, and what was the other thing? Starling’s Bantam New College Italian & English Dictionary told her tartufi bianchi were white truffles. 

She called the chef at a good Washington Italian restaurant and asked him about them. She had to beg off the phone after five minutes as he raved about their taste. 

Taste. The wine, the truffles. Taste in all things was a constant between Dr Lecter’s lives in America and Europe, between his life as a successful medical practitioner and fugitive monster. His face may have changed but his tastes did not, and he was not a man who denied himself. Taste was a sensitive area to Starling, because it was in the area of taste that Dr Lecter first touched her in the quick, complimenting her on her pocketbook and making fun of her cheap shoes. What had he called her? 

A well-scrubbed hustling rube with a little taste. 

It was taste that itched at her in the daily round of her institutional life with its purely functional equipment in utilitarian settings. 

At the same time her faith in technique was dying and leaving room for something else. Starling was weary of technique. Faith in technique is the religion of the dangerous trades. 

To go up against an armed felon in a gunfight or to fight him in the dirt you have to believe perfect technique, hard training, will guarantee that you are invincible. This is not true, particularly in firefights. You can stack the odds in your favour, but if you get into enough gunfights, you will be killed in one. Starling had seen it. Having come to doubt the religion of technique, where could Starling turn? 

In her tribulation, in the gnawing sameness of her days, she began to look at the shapes of things. She began to credit her own visceral reactions to things, without quantifying them or restricting them to words. At about this time she noticed a change in her reading habits. Before, she would have read a caption before she looked at a picture. Not now. Sometimes she did not read captions at all. 

For years she had read couture publications on the sly, guiltily as though they were pornography. Now she began to admit to herself that there was something in those pictures that made her hungry. 

Within the framework of her mind, galvanized by the Lutherans against corrupting rust, she felt as though she were giving in to a delicious perversion. 

She would have arrived at her tactic anyway, in time, but she was aided by the sea change inside her: It sped her toward the idea that Dr Lecter’s taste for rarified things, things in a small market, might be the monster’s dorsal fin, cutting the surface and making him visible. 

Using and comparing computerized customer lists, Starling might be able to crack one of his alternate identities. To do this, she had to know his preferences. She needed to know him better than anyone in the world knew him. What are the things I know he likes? He likes music, wine, books, food. And he likes me. The first step in the development of taste is to be willing to credit your own opinion. In the areas of food and wine and music, Starling would have to follow the doctor’s precedents, looking at what he used in the past, but in one area she was at least his equal. Automobiles. Starling was a car buff, as anyone who saw her car could tell. 

Dr Lecter had owned a supercharged Bentley before his disgrace. Supercharged, not turbocharged. Custom supercharged with a Rootes-type positive displacement blower, so it had no turbo lag. She quickly realized that the custom Bentley market is so small, he would entail some risk going back to it. What would he buy now? She understood the feeling he liked. A blown, big displacement V8, with power down low, and not peaky. What would she buy in the current market? No question, an XJR Jaguar supercharged sedan. She faxed the East and West Coast Jaguar distributors asking for weekly sales reports. 

What else did Dr Lecter have a taste for, that Starling knew a lot about? 

He likes me, she thought. How quickly he had responded to her plight.

World Domination

Everything or nothing 007 documentary intro - 

All the james bonds in one...

Dr. Emil Julius No : 

The Americans are fools. 

I offered My Services; They refused. 

So did The East. Now they can 

both pay for Their mistake.

007 : 

World Domination —

The same old dream. 

Our asylums are full of people who 

think they're Napoleon. Or God.

Sister Lily: 

Come in. Come in Come in. You poor dears. 

We simply didn’t know when to expect you. First it was teatime yesterday, and then dinner. And it was only half an hour ago we knew you were on your way.

Sister Rose:

Cigarette? There’s American, there’s English, and there’s Turkish. I’m Sister Rose. This is Sister Lily. We’re here to make your stay as pleasant as possible.

007 : 

That’s really most kind of you, but for the moment…

Sister Lily: Of course! You’ll be wanting to see your room! Breakfast is already ordered, and then you’ll want to sleep. The doctor left strict orders you’re not to be disturbed until this evening. He’ll be delighted if you join him for dinner. Shall I say you’ll be there?

007 : Tell him I also will be delighted.

Sister Lily: Splendid. I know he’ll be pleased. Here we are.

Sister Lily: This will be your room, Mr. Bond. This is your bathroom in here. And for you, young lady, this is your room. And you’ll find fresh clothes in here. I hope they fit. We didn’t get your sizes till last night. Don’t hesitate to ring if there’s anything else you want. Anything at all.

007 : Such as two air tickets to London?

Sister Lily: I’ll leave you two dear people in peace.

007 : Well, let’s have some breakfast.

Honey Ryder: How can you eat at a time like this?

007 : Because I’m hungry. We don’t know when we’ll get the chance to eat again. Here, take this. Careful. The whole place is probably wired for sound.

Honey Ryder: Have you…Have you any idea what they’re going to do with us?

007 : No idea. No door handles or windows, either.

Honey Ryder: It’s a prison, then.

007 : Mink-lined with first-class service. What’s the matter?

Honey Ryder: I don’t feel so good. I feel so sleepy.

007 : Damn coffee!

007 : How do you feel?

Honey Ryder: Sleepy. What made us pass out like that?

007 : In the coffee, it was drugged.

Sister Lily: It’s almost time for dinner. We don’t want to keep the doctor waiting, do we?

007 : That would never do. You ready, Honey?

Honey Ryder: I suppose so.

007 : You’re doing fine. Come on. Am I, uh, properly dressed for the occasion?

Sister Lily: 

Quite suitable.

007 : 

Suitable for what?

Sister Lily: 

This way, please.

Honey Ryder : 

I’m glad your hands 

are sweating, too.

007 : 

Of course I’m scared, too. 

So be natural and leave 

all the talking to me.

Sister Lily: 

In here, please. I hope you enjoy your dinner.

Honey Ryder: Come and look!

007 : Artificial light. We could be hundreds of feet beneath the sea here.

Honey Ryder: 

And look at that. Sea tulips. 

They do not grow above 200 feet.

No : 

One million dollars, Mr. Bond. 

You were wondering what it cost.

007 : 

As a matter of fact, I was.

No : 

Forgive my not shaking hands. It becomes a bit awkward with these. A misfortune. 

You were admiring my aquarium.

007 : Yes. It’s quite impressive.

No : A unique feat of engineering, if I may say so. I designed it myself. The glass is convex, ten inches thick, which accounts for the magnifying effect.

007 : Minnows pretending they’re whales. Just like you on this island, Dr. No.

No : It depends, Mr. Bond, on which side the glass you are. A medium dry martini, lemon peel, shaken, not stirred.

007 : Vodka?

No : Of course. We’ll have dinner at once. There’s so much to discuss, so little time.

007 : Well, Dr. No, you haven’t done badly, considering.

No : A handicap is what you make of it. I was the unwanted child of a German missionary and a Chinese girl of good family. Yet I became treasurer of the most powerful criminal society in China.

007 : 

It’s rare for the Tongs 

to trust anyone who isn’t 

completely Chinese.

No : I doubt they shall do so again. I escaped to America with ten million of their dollars in gold.

007 : 

That’s how you financed this operation. 

It was a good idea to use atomic power. I’m glad to see you can handle it properly. 

I’d hate to think your decontamination 

chamber wasn’t effective.

No : 

My work has given me a unique knowledge of 

radioactivity, but not without costs, as you see.

007 : 

Yes. Your power source 

had our organisation 

puzzled for some time.

No : 

They are still 

puzzled, Mr. Bond.

007 : 

Not any longer. 

I sent a complete report.

No : 

Bluff, Mr. Bond. You’ve not contacted your headquarters since you requested 

a Geiger counter.

007 : 

But there are so many files open on you already, Dr. No. Our own, the CIA’s…The one from the Tong society that you robbed. When trouble comes, you’ll find this is a very small and naked little island.

No : 

An expendable little island, Mr. Bond. 

When my mission here in Crab Key is accomplished, I destroy it and move on. But the habit of inquiry is consistent. I see you’re wondering why, where, when. I only gratify your curiosity because you’re the one man I’ve met capable of appreciating what I’ve done. And keeping it to himself.

007 : 

Just a minute. There’s no point in involving the 

girl at this stage. She has nothing to do with us. 

Let her go free. She’ll promise not to talk.

Honey Ryder: 

No, I won’t, I’m staying with you.

007 : 

I don’t want you here.

No : 

I agree. This is no 

place for The Girl. 

Take her away.

Honey Ryder: 

No! No!

No : 

I’m sure the guards will amuse her.

Honey Ryder: 

Let me go! No!

No : 

That’s a Dom Pérignon ’55. 

It would be a pity to break it

.

007 : 

I prefer the ’53 myself.

No : 

Clumsy effort, Mr. Bond. You disappoint me. I’m not a fool, so please do not treat me as one. And that table knife, please put it back.

007 : 

Well, we can’t all be geniuses, can we? 

Tell me, does the toppling of American missiles 

really compensate for having no hands?

No : Missiles are only the first step to prove our power.

007 : 

Our power? With your disregard for human life 

you must be working for The East.

No : 

East, West – just points of the compass, 

each as stupid as the other. 

I’m a member of SPECTRE.

007 : 

SPECTRE?

No : 

SPECTRE  --

Special Executive for Counterintelligence, 

Terrorism, Revenge, Extortion --

The four great cornerstones of Power, 

headed by the greatest brains in the world.

007 : 

Correction : Criminal brains.

No : 

The successful criminal brain is always superior. It has to be.

007 : 

Well, why become criminal? 

I’m sure The West would welcome 

A Scientist of your… caliber.

No : 

The Americans are fools. I offered my services. They refused. 

So did The East. Now they can both pay for their mistake.

007 : 

World domination. That same old dream. Our asylums are full of people who think they’re Napoleon…or God.

No : 

You persist in trying to provoke me, Mr. Bond. 

I could’ve had you killed in The Swamp.

007 : And why didn’t you?

No : 

I thought you less stupid. 

Usually, when a man gets in my way…

But you were different. 

You cost me time, money, effort. 

You damaged my organization and my pride.

I was curious to see what 

kind of a man you were. 

I thought there might even be a place 

for you with SPECTRE

007 :  

Well, I’m flattered. I’d prefer the revenge department. 

Of course, my first job would be finding 

the man who killed Strangways and Quarrel.

 

No : 

Unfortunately, I misjudged you --

You are just a stupid policeman 

whose luck has run out --

Scientist: 

They’re waiting for you in the control room, Dr. No.

No : 

No hurry. They won’t have started their countdown check yet.

007 : 

You won’t get away with it, Dr. No. 

The Americans are prepared 

for any trouble.

No : 

I never fail, Mr. Bond.

Guard: 

What do we do with him?

No : 

Soften him up. I haven’t 

finished with him yet.

The Benefits of Owning a really FINE Set of Encyclopedias

Monty Python's Flying Circus - 

Burglar/Encyclopedia Salesman - 1969

The Phantom Victory

 

“In The Past, 

Politicians promised 

to create A Better World. 

They had Different Ways 

of achieving this, but

Their Power and Authority 

came from the 

optimistic Visions 

they offered to Their People. 

Those Dreams FAILED. 

And Today, People have 

Lost Faith in Ideologies. 

Increasingly, 

Politicians are seen simply 

as Managers of Public Life. 

But now, They have 

Discovered a NEW Role 

that restores Their Power 

and Authority. 

Instead of Delivering Dreams, Politicians now promise 

to Protect Us from  NIGHTMARES. 

They Say that 

They will rescue Us,

from dreadful Dangers 

that We cannot See and 

DO Not Understand. 

And The Great 

Danger of All —

"So much of the news this year has been hopeless, depressing, and above all, confusing. To which the only response is to say, "Oh dear."

What this film is going to suggest is that that Defeatist Response has become a central part of a new system of political control. 

And to understand how this is happening, you have to look to Russia, to a man called Vladislav Surkov, who is A Hero of Our Time. 

Surkov is one of President Putin's advisers, and has helped him maintain his power for 15 years, but he has done it in a very new way. 

He came originally from the avant-garde art world, and those who have studied His Career, say that what Surkov has done, is to import ideas from conceptual art into the very heart of politics. 

His aim is to undermine peoples' perceptions of the world, so they never know what is really happening. 

Surkov turned Russian Politics into a bewildering, constantly changing piece of Theatre. 

He sponsored all kinds of groups, from neo-Nazi skinheads to liberal human rights groups. He even backed parties that were opposed to President Putin. 

But the key thing was, that Surkov then let it be known that this was what he was doing, which meant that no one was sure what was Real or Fake. As one journalist put it: "It is a strategy of power that keeps any opposition constantly confused." 

A ceaseless shape-shifting that is unstoppable because it is undefinable. 

It is exactly what Surkov is alleged to have done in The Ukraine this year. 

In typical fashion, as The War began, Surkov published a short story about something he called Non-linear War. A War where you never know what The Enemy are really up to, or even who they are. 

The underlying aim, Surkov says, is not to Win The War, but to use the conflict to create a constant state of destabilized perception, in order to manage and control.

But maybe, we have something similar emerging here in Britain. Everything we're told by journalists and politicians is confusing and contradictory. 

Of course, there is no Mr. Surkov in charge, but it is an odd, non-linear world that plays into the hands of Those in Power.

British troops have come Home from Afghanistan, but nobody seems to know whether it was A Victory or whether it was A Defeat. 

..

Aging disk jockeys are prosecuted for crimes they committed decades ago, while practically no one in The City of London is prosecuted for the endless financial crimes that have been revealed there. 

In Syria, We are Told that President Assad is The Evil Enemy, but then His Enemies turn out to be even more evil than him, so We Bomb Them, and by doing that, We Help keep Assad in Power. 

But the real epicenter of this non-linear world is The Economy, and the closest we have to our own shape-shifting Post-Modern Politician is George Osborne. 

He tells us proudly that The Economy is Growing, but at the same time, wages are going down. 

He says he is reducing The Deficit, but then it is revealed that The Deficit is going up. 

But the dark heart of this shape-shifting world is Quantitative Easing. 

The Government is insisting on taking billions of Pounds out of the economy through its austerity program, yet at the very same time it is pumping billion of Pounds into the economy through Quantitative Easing, the equivalent of 24,000 Pounds for every family in Britain. 

But it gets even more confusing, because the Bank of England has admitted that those billions of Pounds are not going where they are supposed to. 

A vast majority of that money has actually found its way into the hands of the wealthiest five percent in Britain. 

It has been described 

as the biggest 

transfer of wealth 

to The Rich in recent 

documented History. 

It could be 

a huge scandal, comparable 

to the greedy oligarchs 

in Russia — a ruthless elite, siphoning off billions 

in public money. 

But nobody seems to know. 

It sums up the strange mood 

of Our Time, where nothing really 

makes any coherent sense. 

We Live with 

a constant vaudeville 

of contradictory stories 

that makes it impossible 

for any real opposition 

to emerge, because 

they can't counter it 

with any coherent narrative 

of their own. 

And it means that We as Individuals become ever more powerless, unable to challenge anything, because We Live in a state of confusion and uncertainty. 

To which the 

only response, is : 

Oh Dear. 

But that is 

What They want 

You to Say.