Friday, 26 July 2019

This is Not a Hug, Son – Howard, Tony and Peter


Attack EyeBrows: 
I, I don't think that I'm a hugging person now.

CLARA: 
I'm not sure you get a vote.

Attack EyeBrows: 
Whatever you say.














" In our world today, need is a dirty word. People love to deny, suppress and disown their needs as if that somehow makes them a better person. We are addicted to independence. But here’s the problem: No matter how much you may want it to be different, you have needs. Every being on earth has needs. A need is something that is required in order to live, succeed or be happy. And you cannot un-require something that is required. You cannot argue your way into seeing that it isn’t necessary. You have one option when it comes to your needs and that is to meet them. There are many needs we love to deny. But today I’m going to talk to you about one of them. It is the need for touch.

People are preoccupied and obsessed with the idea of overriding their biology. If you look around the world today, our modern society is an example of this. Religion looks to suppress all instinctive energies within us like sexuality, hunger, and desire. Our modern society has made it so that we are mentally and emotionally ready to have babies at age 30 to 40, when our bodies are in fact on the downswing of fertility at that age. We have become, as a society, obsessed with finding a way to be immortal. We want to transcend all that makes us human. But when it comes to connection, we find ourselves in real trouble when we try to override our biology.

We might like to think that we can physically exist without each other, but we can’t. Healthy autonomy cannot arise in a person who has no sense of safety or adequacy, which for a physical human is provided through the person’s learned sense of security of connection. For a physical human, the chemical cocktail that our body releases in response to touch and contact comfort connection is the exact opposite of the chemical cocktail that is released in response to fear and shame. And so we need to accept that connection is our antidote. The sooner we can accept this reality about ourselves, the better. We are a social species. And more than that, we are a social species that needs contact comfort. Yes, I am talking about human touch.

I’ve never forgotten about a series of experiments that were done by a man named Harry Harlow in the 1950s. He was seeking to understand the human need for love, and the critical role that it plays in both primate and human development, so he separated a group of baby rhesus monkeys from their mothers when they were born.

The baby monkeys were each caged alone in the lab and allowed no physical contact with the personnel in the lab or with each other even though they could see the other monkeys and personnel. They immediately began exhibiting signs of distress. They clutched themselves, began rocking, staring into space as if dissociating, biting themselves, and biting their cages. They did not play or groom themselves and they seemed vacillate between anxiety and depression.

The babies were then assigned to one of two fake surrogate mothers. One was a model made of chicken wire that was covered in soft terrycloth. It was made to look roughly like a monkey. This surrogate did not provide any food. The other surrogate mother was also made of chicken wire, but no terrycloth. It had a crocodile looking head and provided milk from an attached baby bottle.

To say that the babies favored the mother covered in terrycloth is an understatement. The comfort these babies received through touch contact was incomparably more important to them than even their physical hunger. They needed connection more than they needed nourishment. This is also the case for people, not just monkeys. If our need for nourishment was stronger than our need for connection with one another, we would not meet people who can’t eat or sleep when they experience a painful break-up with someone they loved.

There is another unforgettable research study that I learned about in my university courses. It was a study done in the United States in the 1940s and was conducted on 40 newborn infants. I clearly remember that the objective was to determine whether individuals could thrive on basic physiological needs alone, without physical affection.

Twenty of the newborn infants were housed in a special facility where caregivers would enter the facility to feed them, bathe them, and change their diapers, but they would do nothing else. The caregivers had been instructed not to look at or touch the babies more than what was necessary and never communicate with them. All their physical needs were attended to scrupulously and the environment was kept sterile so as to prevent any of the babies from becoming ill.

The experiment was stopped after four months because by that time, at least half of the babies had died. More babies subsequently died even after being rescued and brought into natural familial environment. There was no physiological cause found for the deaths of these babies. They were all physically very healthy.

I specifically remember that one of the most disturbing facts was that before each baby died, there was a period of time where they would stop verbalizing and stop trying to engage with their caregivers. They would stop moving, stop crying, and stop changing their expression and death would follow shortly after. It was as if the babies had given up living before they died. This was the case even for the babies who died after being removed from the experimental conditions.

In today’s world, we are obsessed with technology. It’s hard to go anywhere and find people who are genuinely engaged with one another. Most people are fully engaged instead with a technological device. Their noses are buried in their computers or cell phones. And while social media has provided incredible opportunities to be connected with each other around the world, no matter where we are, social media only provides connection up to a degree. Physical connection cannot be replaced and its importance can’t be underestimated. We can’t get physical contact through a screen or from a distance. We need touch. We need vicinity. We need the comfort of being in physical contact with one another. And we must consider this when we are developing connections in our life.

The reality is that as humans, we need touch. Even the people, who are the most afraid of and hurt by human connection, need it. This is why the loneliest and most deeply hurt people experience so much torment. If we didn’t absolutely need touch and we were hurt by people, we would simply go on our merry way and never touch other people again. But we can’t. Instead, if we’ve been hurt by others, we spend our life in a torturous tug of war between the side of us that needs other people and the side that wants to be able to have nothing to do with them.

It is obvious that there are many ways we can be physically injured when it comes to touch and that this sets up a poor relationship to touch in general. But by far the majority of the pain we experience as people around touch is because of the emotional meaning we add to touch. People cannot stop adding meaning to touch and so touch is not touch for the sake of touch in our world. Instead touch is a tool. This meaning we add to touch destroys the purity of touch and makes it rather unsafe to touch each other.

For example, if your parent made you serve them and/or honor them through physical touch and there were consequences for not doing so, physical touch now means subservience and slavery and is no longer an organic expression of love. Touch is often used as a tool for manipulation and so when you touch someone, it may mean to him or her that you want something from them. If touch only ever meant that someone wanted sex, then touch will be interpreted solely as an emotional communicator that the person wants to have sex with you.

Meaning is added to touch and also the different types of touch in every race, culture, religion, society and family. For example, in American culture, if a guy slaps another guys butt in sports, it means encouragement. If a guy slaps another guys butt outside sports, it means he is gay. In Scandinavian cultures, you can’t touch a person of the opposite sex without it meaning that you want to be with them sexually or romantically. In Brazil, you can expect to be hugged and kissed by everyone even if you are a stranger. There is no physical bubble. It doesn’t mean anything other than friendliness and welcome.

Even in one culture, the way a touch is given changes the entire meaning. A softer handshake for example can mean a warm greeting whereas a firm handshake can mean ‘take me seriously’. There are differences in the societal acceptance around boys touching and girls touching. The powerless thing is that we can’t control the meaning that other people add to us touching them. And we add meaning that makes it not easy to just receive touch ourselves. Because of the complexity of the language of touch, touch seems so complicated; most of us end up in pain about it. We all end up touch deprived.

Humans need SO much more touch than they are getting across the world. In fact, purely biologically speaking, there is no single person who could provide enough touch for another person. Imagine a baby. When the baby is born, everyone who comes into contact with that baby, caresses the baby. The child in this healthy environment can run up and get a hug from mom one minute and the next sit on dads lap and the next, sit down and have their arm lightly stroked by grandma and the next, run hand in hand with their friend. In a healthy world, this would be how adults could live with each other in community as well. Obviously there are healthier cultures, communities and individuals than others in this respect.

If touch has been something that has led to pain for us, we need to work touch back into our lives slowly and with someone that we trust. Somatic therapy is one example of something we may need to do first before we can let people in our social circle provide touch for us in our day-to-day lives. It is to be expected that we would need to be rehabilitated if unloving touch was part of our wounding, as is so typical with abuse. But we do need this rehabilitation if we want to live lives where we genuinely feel connected to other people, at peace with the world and emotionally satiated.

When we are trying to satiate the need for touch, we need to stop suppressing this need within ourselves. We need to begin to look at touch as something that we do for touch sake. For example, we love petting a dog or cat for the sake of the pleasure of that touch in and of itself. It is a pure form of touch because it nourishes both the one touching and the one being touched. This is why it feels so safe for many of us to caress and be physically affectionate to an animal, but not a person. The communication is clear.

See, sense or feel that your body needs touch. Your skin and muscles and organs are starving for it. You are also starving for that form of communication emotionally. Some examples of nourishing types of touch are: 

Sitting with someone so we can feel their body against ours, 

holding, 

 
patting, 

 
gripping, 

 
rubbing, 

 
hugging, 

 
holding hands, 




gentle and comforting stroking, 
tickling, 
cuddling, 
massage, 
squeezing, 
pulling, 


forehead against forehead 
and 
kisses 

to name a few.

When we want touch from someone or initiate touch with someone, we can keep ourselves safe by getting very clear on the meaning of the touch before we do it and communicating with the other person about it. Essentially we must aim to take the room for interpretation out of it. Touch is one of the most powerful forms of primal emotional communication. We need that communication; the emotional message being conveyed through touch. But we also need touch in and of itself separate from a communication tool.

For the sake of your awareness, really ask yourself what meaning you specifically add to the different forms of touch. Where did you learn that meaning from? How does the meaning you add to touch differ from the meaning other people add to touch? Take a day and on that day, just watch people and how they touch. Take note of every time they touch and the meaning or communication being conveyed by that touch. Make a study of this form of communication.

Whenever you are experiencing touch or giving touch, ask yourself: What does this touch emotionally mean and what do I want it to mean? In this way, we make sure we are on the same page. It may seem less organic this way, but it is a necessary part of the rehabilitation. This makes touch safe to give and receive. And when you find yourself in a partnership, you will have to communicate about the meaning of touch as well in order to be on the same page so that touching other people outside the partnership is done in ways that makes both people feel satiated but also safe. Touch is something that creates jealousy in relationships faster than almost anything else.

As long as we are physical, there will not be a day when we don’t need touch from each other. Our sense of well-being is dependent upon us meeting this need for one another. We need to find opportunities for contact comfort and then we need to allow these experiences into our life. And we need to accept that it’s futile to fight against this aspect of our biology. If we can separate out the meaning of touch from the touch itself so as to clearly agree upon it and begin to touch each other for the sake of touch itself, we will create a healthier and more emotionally secure world to live in."




CLARA: 
Yeah. (big sigh) 
Tell you what, seeing as it's goodbye, shall we break a habit?

DOCTOR: 
What? What habit?

CLARA: 
Hug.

DOCTOR: 
Why not. Within reason.

(He stands up.)

DOCTOR: 
Come on, you're on the clock.

CLARA: 
Fair enough.

(So she stands and puts her arms around his neck, and he slowly puts his arms around her.)

CLARA: 
Why don't you like hugging, Doctor?

DOCTOR: 
Never trust a hug. 
It's just a way to hide your face.

CLARA: 
Yeah.

Wednesday, 24 July 2019

Handsome Man, Saves Me From The Monsters










Charlie Skinner was Crazy.
 

He identified with Don Quixote, an old man with dementia who thought he could save The World from an epidemic of incivility simply by acting like a Knight.
 

His Religion was Decency.
 

And he spent a lifetime fighting its enemies.
 

I wish he could be here to learn the name of his successor like I just did.
Our new boss, the new president of ACN, is MacKenzie McHale.
 

So this fight is just getting started.
 

'Cause he taught the rest of us to be crazy, too.
 

You were a Man, Charlie.
You were a Great, Big Man.


LISTER: 
You're a piece of dirty filthy cheating scum, aren't you?

RIMMER: 
Absolutement!  And that is why I'll win.
Because I have the ability to think my way round problems rather than sticking to the straight, pre- programmed lines.  
That's why men, Lister, are so better than machines.


LISTER: 
Oh, I don't know, you know.  

I had this Geography teacher, Miss Foster.  
She took us on a school summer camp trip to Deganwy.  
I had the tent next to hers, right.  
And in the middle of the night I was woken up by this really weird noise.  

•She• didn't think Men were better than Machines....






Angel and Fred are riding double through what looks like low mountain country.  Angel looks around then pulls the horse to a stop, slides off, and helps Fred down. 

Angel:  
"I don't think they followed us.  We should probably stay on foot.  In case they try to track us down. 
(Gives the now riderless horse a push to get it going)  
Come on." 

Turns to Fred and finds her staring at him. 

Angel:  
"You okay?" 

Fred claps a hand to the side of her head.

Fred:  
"Handsome man - saved me from the monsters." 

Angel looks at her with a slight frown. 

Fred:  
"Bye." 

With that she runs off. 

Angel:  
"Hey.  Wait a minute." 

Hurries after her.

Fred runs through a wooded area, past a boulder.  Runs up then slowly makes his way along the boulder and into a cave. 
(Nice guitar/woodwind score music playing here.) 

Finds Fred (now wearing a pair of crooked glasses) busily adding to the carved symbols covering the walls of the cave. 

Angel:  
"Hello?" 

Fred hesitates for a moment then continues to write. 
Angel looks around the cave. Angel:  "Hey, great place." 
Slowly crosses the cave. 
Angel:  "You don't have to be afraid of me. Really. I-I'd never..." 
He comes up on a small pool of water and his attention is captured by his reflection in it. 
Angel:  "...hurt you?" 
Fred glances back at him, the quickly turns back to her carving. 
Angel:  "So, ah... So, you don't wanna talk to me?" 
Fred:  "I can't, huh?" 
Angel:  "Why won't you?" 
Fred:  "Because - you're not real. - Or I'm not real.  *Somebody* here isn't real and I suspect it's you.  So if you're not real, that means that my head came off back there and that I'm dead now.  Dead.  And with me being dead and you not being real I can hardly be expected to have some big conversation with you at the moment, because it's just a little too much pressure, alright?!" 
Angel holds up his hands:  "Okay.  Okay." 
Fred nods and turns back to her writing. 
Angel:  "What's that you're doing?" 
Fred looks up at the stuff covering the walls.  Some of it looks like the words form the book that opened the portal, other stuff resembles mathematical formulas. 
Fred:  "Uhm, I think I saw it in a dream." 
Angel:  "You've been here a long time." 
Fred:  "Always. - Not always." 
Angel spots something.  Picks it up.  It's a California drivers license for one Winifred Burke, living in Los Angeles, brown hair, 5'6", 114 pounds, expiration date 03-01-98. 
Fred turns around with a smile:  "I had a dream.  I had a name." 
Angel reads the license:  "Winifred." 
Fred hurries over and pulls the license out of his hand. 
Angel:  "You're the girl from Cordy's vision!" 
Fred:  "What?" 
Angel:  "They called you Fred.  You were studying to be a physicist." 
Fred:  "That's my dream." 
Angel:  "You disappeared from a library in Los Angeles five years ago." 
Fred shakes her head:  "Stop it." 
Angel:  "It's not a dream, Fred." 
Fred:  "It's not?" 
Angel:  "No." 
Fred:  "And my head's still on?" 
Angel gently pushes her glasses back up onto the bridge of her nose. 
Angel:  "Yeah." 
Fred smiles:  "You're real?" 
Angel smiles and nods. 
Fred's smile melts into a frown and she starts to shake her head as she moves a few steps away from Angel. 
Fred:  "No.  No, I don't want you to be real." 
Angel:  "Why?" 
Fred turning back to face him:  "Because!  You're nice, and you saved me.  And bad things will happen to you here.  (Shakes her head and looks down, twisting her fingers together)  Bad things always happen here." 
Angel:  "No, no, no. Nothing bad's gonna happen.  I-It's gonna be okay.  We-we can take you out of here." 
Fred:  "We?" 
Angel:  "Yeah.  Me and my friends.  We-we're working on a way to get out of here.  We can take you back." 
Fred:  "Can't get back.  There is no back." 
Angel:  "No, there is.  If we can open the portal...." 
Fred hurries closer:  "The portal!  She fell through the portal!" 
Angel:  "Who did?" 
Fred:  "That other girl.  I couldn't save her.  I was arrested.  They got her.  She's a slave.  She'll die!" 
Angel:  "Oh.  Cordy.  No, she's fine.  They made her a princess." 
Fred:  "They...  Really? - Oh.  (Looks down)  When I got here they... They didn't do that.  -  Well.  That's nice for her." 

Cordy is sitting on her throne.  A girl is polishing the nails on her right hand. 
Cordy:  "You're sure this is a good first date look?  I don't want to seem too easy.  I was thinking something more in a nice tailored suit - of armor. - So, so I figured we'd start slow.  A few dinners, some light conversation, nothing too heavy and *then* in three or four years, if we still feel like we're hitting it off okay, we'll ah..." 
Silas:  "Your majesty." 
Cordy:  "Yeah." 
Silas points towards the door:  "The groosalug." 
Cordy:  "Say, don't you think it would add an air of feminine mystery if I were to, you know, not be here?" 
She tries to get up but is pushed back down into her throne by a bluish hand on her shoulder. 
The double doors open and wheezing, bulky demon with horns shuffles in, a sack slung over it's shoulder. 
Cordy to one of her attendants:  "Kill me now." 
She looks back to find a handsome warrior following the beast into the throne room.  He claps the beast on the shoulder. 
Groo to beast:  "Just put those anywhere." 
Groo walks up to the throne and kisses the back of Cordy's hand. 
Groo:  "Majesty." 
Cordy:  "Oh."

Angel and Fred are walking outside between some low boulders. 
Fred:  "I've never been to the palace before.  I've seen it up there, on that hill, watching me." 
Angel:  "We just gotta find my friends." 
He slows, scans their surroundings. Two bucket-head soldiers on horseback, swords drawn come around a boulder. 
Angel: "Get down." 
Angel pushes Fred to the ground and tries to shield her with his own body, as the first guard charges and tires to swipe them with his sword. 
Angel:  "Look, you may see something that might frighten you, but I'm your friend, okay?" 
Angel jumps up to engage the guards as they come at them again while Fred runs to cower against the side of a boulder. 
The first guard charges Angel and he ducks under the sword, turns to find the second guard almost on top of him.  He morphs but instead of his usual vamp face appearing the morph continues until his whole face turns green and bumpy, framed by some almost horn-like protrusions, while his hands turn into claws. 
Fred flinches a little as Angel leaps to pull the second guard of his horse.  Angel lays into the downed guard with wild ferocity.  The guard screams as Angel literally rips one of his arms off and tosses it aside.  Seeing this the other guard turns his rearing horse, and flees. 
Angel buries his head against the guard's throat and the guard goes motionless.  Lifting his head Angel looks back at Fred, cowering against her boulder. 
Fred, shaking her head:  

"Bad things always happen here."

Break



Growling, Angel leaves the soldier and makes his way over to Fred, who tries to make herself as small as possible.  Angel leans in close to her and sniffs.  Blood is smeared around his mouth and coloring his teeth.  There is a piece of meat hanging form one fang. 
After a moment Angel abruptly turns to look over his shoulder and leaps away from Fred in a sudden flash of motion. 
Fred draws a few gasping breaths, then looks over at the mutilated corpse of the guard lying a few feet away.





INT. CONFERENCE ROOM - DAY
Angel is sitting at the head of the conference table, tapping his fingers impatiently as he stares at the room full of empty chairs. He rolls his head, shuffles and stacks papers, then leans forward and stares at the speakerphone.

ANGEL
(impatiently presses a button on the speakerphone)
Harmony!

HARMONY (O.S.)
(over speakerphone)
I know! I called everyone. They're just...

ANGEL
(irritated)
Not here. I can see that. 
If they were here, I wouldn't be alone. 
Why am I alone?

HARMONY
(walks into the conference room)
Well, you can be super grouchy.

ANGEL
(presses a button on the speakerphone, turning it off, then looks up at Harmony)
The meeting?

HARMONY
(shrugs)
Everyone's otherwise occupado, boss. 
Wesley's stuck baby-sitting Miss "I used to rule the world, bow down before me, minion scum." 
(puts her hands on her hips and shakes her head)
Why aren't we killing her, again?

ANGEL
Gunn.

HARMONY
(sighs thoughtfully)
Maybe... 
(leans on the back of a conference table chair)
...if we had a really big one.

ANGEL
(impatiently)
Where is Gunn?

HARMONY
(stands)
Oh. The hospital still. You know, from when Wesley... 
(mimes stabbing)
and Lorne's kinda M.I.A. since...

ANGEL
Fred.

HARMONY
(nods sadly)
Okey-dokey then. 
(shrugs with false cheer and exits)

SPIKE
(enters carrying a briefcase)
Where's the rest of the crew?

ANGEL
Apparently not coming.

SPIKE
But this is an important meeting.

ANGEL
At least somebody....

SPIKE
My first official parley as a very loosely affiliated member of the... what are we? 
(puts his briefcase on the conference table)
Tell me we're not Scoobies. 
(unlatches the briefcase)

ANGEL
We don't have a...

SPIKE
A name? Well, that's probably for the best. 
You'd want to be "Angel's Avengers" or something.

ANGEL
(frowns, mocking)
"Angel's Avengers," that's... 
(stops himself as he ponders the sound of it)

SPIKE
(sits)
So what's on the agenda? 
(reaches into his briefcase)

ANGEL
(leans over his papers)
Uh, I have assignments for people...
(looks up as the sound of a pop-top opening comes from Spike)

SPIKE
What? 
(Angel glares)
I'm listening. 
(holds up a beer can)
With beer. 
(drinks)

ANGEL
(glares at Spike)
Forget it. You know what? 
This isn't a meeting. This is you being annoying. 
(stands, sighs heavily, looks out the window)

SPIKE
(grabs a paper from the stack where Angel was sitting)
Hey, bullet points. Classy. 
(pauses to read, then holds up the paper to Angel with contempt)
Why am I always reconnaissance? I should get a decently flash gig like "save the girl" or "steal the emerald with the girl."

ANGEL
(stares at his feet)
"Handsome Man, Save Me From The Monsters."
(scoffs)

SPIKE
Exactly! Or... What's that now?

ANGEL
That's the first thing Fred said to me. In Pylea. 
(paces behind his chair)
She was trapped, hiding, afraid. 
Nearly crazy. Crazy. But brave. 
I should never have let her come here. 

Bad things always happen here.

SPIKE
Hate to break it to you, mate, but bad things always happen everywhere. 
Besides, she wanted to be here. It was her choice.

ANGEL
Was it?

SPIKE
Bugger. 
(stands)
You're fixing to do something stupid, aren't you?

ANGEL
Done it. Came here. 
Spend every day lying to myself about making The World a better place.

SPIKE
Welcome to The Planet. 
We all paint on our happy faces every day, when all we really wanted is to pound the neighbor's missus, steal his Ben Franklins, and while we're at it, not think about the third of The World that's starving to death. 
(walks toward the window, looks out)

ANGEL
I'm not saying that I can fix everything. I just... I... I have to do better. 
The senior partners have a plan.

SPIKE
(scoffs)
Yeah, the prophecy. 
That ever-lovin' Apocalypse you keep going on about.

ANGEL
Yeah, which Apocalypse? The one last year or the year before that? No, the senior partners are up to something now, and I'm not waiting for them to spring it on us. 
We're through operating in the dark.






Wes and Gunn are walking through the forest. 

Gunn:  "We're lost." 


Wesley:  "Nonsense.  I've been following the sun.  We're headed due west, back toward the village." 


Gunn:  "Which one?" 


Wesley:  "Which village?" 


Gunn:  

"Which sun?  There're two of them.  
Alternate dimension?  We're lost." 

Wesley stops and holds up a hand for silence. 


Gunn:  "You're having a Blair witch moment?" 


Wesley:  "Something's hunting us." 


Gunn smoothly slides in to stand back to back with Wes.
 

Gunn:  "Palace guards?" 

Wesley:  "I don't know." 


They pivot together to survey their surroundings.  Suddenly the Angel-beast appears on top of a rock, then jumps off, knocking both of them to the ground. 


Wes and Gunn pick themselves up and turn to look at the Angel-beast, fanning out so that the beast can't come at both of them at once. 


Gunn:  

"What the hell is it?" 

Wesley stumbles on a rock and falls.  The beast runs towards him hesitating a moment at the sight of the branch that Wes is holding in front of him.  At the same time Gunn begins to pelt the Angel-beast with rocks. 


Gunn:  

"Come on!  Come on!" 

The Angel-beast turns and Wes spots Angel's tattoo showing briefly through a rip in his clothing. 


Wesley:  

"It's Angel!" 

Gunn glances at Wes and the beast leaps, knocking him to the ground. 


Gunn is straining to hold the Angel-beast off far enough to keep out of the reach of its fangs. 


Wesley:  

"Angel!  Can you hear me? Angel!  Angel?" 


Fred slowly dips her hand into a leather pouch hanging by her side.  When she takes her balled hand back out it is dripping with blood.  She slowly raises it up into the air. 


We can still dimly hear Wesley calling Angel's name, but the sound of his voice is being drowned out by a heartbeat like thudding underlying a haunting woodwind tune as the Angel-beast slowly straightens up and looks over towards the blood covered fist. 


The Angel-beast slowly moves closer to Fred and, with her fist still raised, Fred slowly backs up, leading it away. 


Wesley hurries over to Gunn and notices deep scratches marring his left shoulder. 


Wesley:  

"Oh, you're hurt." 

Gunn:  

"What the hell just happened?" 

Wesley: 

"That strange wild girl saved us - from Angel." 

Gunn:  

"Something very freaky is going on here." 

Wesley:  

 "I have a suspicion I may know what.  
Angel's vampire-self - has been sublimated somehow - by this dimension." 


He picks up a handful of wet mud and gets ready to smear it over Gunn's scratches.  Gunn holds up a hand. 


Wesley:  

"It's okay." 

Gunn lets him pack the scratches with mud. 


Wesley:  

"Only his human side as surfaced since we've been here..." 


Gunn:  

"You mean being able to walk around in the sun - seeing his reflection, like that?" 

Wesley:  

"Yes.  And now, for whatever reason he's accessed his demon, but he can't find the balance he normally would in Our World.  
His demon-self has totally overcome his human side." 

Gunn:  

"So that's what the thing inside of him really looks like?" 

Wesley:  

"In its purest form." 

Gunn:  

"That's nasty." 

Wesley:  

Can you walk?" 

Gunn:  

Yeah.

Wesley:  

We've got to help him.

The Majors Tom : GoatBoy





On December 16, 1961, The World turned upside down and inside out, and I was born, screaming, in America.

CUT: Tower Bridge – The Horse and Rider cross The Bridge, approaching the camera

It was the end of the American Dream, just before we lost our innocence irrevocably, and the TV Eye brought the horror of our lives into out homes for all to see.


CUT: The rider dismounts upon a cobblestoned street, and leads his horse past the burning shells of televisions.

FX: howling wolves

I was told when I grew up, I could be anything I wanted – A Fireman, a Policeman, a Doctor. Even President, it seemed. 

And for the first time in The History of Mankind, something new called an 'Astronaut.'

But like many kids growing up on a steady diet of Westerns, I always wanted to be The Cowboy Hero :– That Lone Voice in The Wilderness fighting Corruption and Evil wherever I found it, and standing for Freedom, Truth and Justice.


CUT: The Dark Rider throws a lighted match into an oil drum full of newspapers.


And in my Heart of Hearts, I still track the remnants of That Dream, wherever I go, on my never-ending ride into The Setting Sun.

SETH









Cain, Abel and Seth.




" Maury Gellman, Nobel Prize-winner, got his Three-Quark-Model out of Finnegan’s Wake…. The Three Quarks are major characters in Finnegan’s Wake, the two twins who are opposites, and the third twin who is both twins combined and still a third independent character.








In order to understand thoughts like that, two twins who are the opposite, and the third who combines both of them, you gotta think in a Taoist way – like the joke which goes : –


Q : ‘How Many Zen Masters Does it Take to Change a Lightbulb?’


Three


A : ‘One to Change it, and One Not to Change it.’


That’s the logic of the Shem, Ham, Japeth relationship in Finnegan’s Wake, which is also the Bacon, Shakespeare, Raleigh relationship, and the Tom, Dick and Harry, and many other types of Trilogies of The Human Mind, including The Holy Trinity. “






FAIL HYDRA


"A wise man once told me that a person can do anything once they realize they are a part of something bigger. It's taken me a while to understand that. For years, I was just a face in the crowd, a history teacher who spread HYDRA's lies. They seemed too imposing for only one person to fight. But now, I'm choosing to stand up. To become a part of something bigger. I really do believe that together, we can accomplish anything. Because the truth is... 

I'm not just a history teacher. 

My name... is Phil Coulson. And I'm an Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D."






















SPACE





SIMMONS: 
Let's try again.

Abby :
It's not gonna work.

SIMMONS: 
Come on.
You can do this, Abby.


[BREATHES DEEPLY] 
[FIST SLAMS] 

Abby :
I didn't mean to do that.

SIMMONS: 
No, but that was impressive.
You're powerful.

Abby :
Well, not if I can't do it when I actually want to.

SIMMONS: 
But you can.
It's Mind over Matter.
Or in your case, the literal Matter that makes up your body.

[BREATHES DEEPLY] 

SIMMONS: 
Think of This Place.
You see a table, this pitcher, and outside, the stars Millions of them.
All of that, every part in the universe is made of the same thing Protons, neutrons, electrons.
And you know what's between those tiny particles? Space.
Infinite Space.

Abby :
Okay.


[SIGHS] 

Abby :
Your body is like a field of stars, but you're special.
You can control the space between the stars.
The Space between The Stars.
Imagine it.
Close your eyes and imagine it.

[BREATHES DEEPLY] 

SIMMONS: 
Now try again.


[CHUCKLES] 
[BOTH LAUGH] 


Abby :
I've never been able to hold it steady like this before.

SIMMONS: 
That's good.
Just remember this feeling.


Abby :
I lost it.

SIMMONS: 
I - It's okay.
Takes months to master a talent.



BLUE #1 :
Did you set our little healer up to fail because I think she's pretty? 
Or did you really think she'd succeed? 
You want to see me happy.
Then tell me, what does Jemma have that makes her so different makes her capable to succeed in this? 

BLUE #2 :
Compassion.

BLUE #1 :
Hmm.

Tuesday, 23 July 2019

Sure, We’re All Living In David Bowie’s Head Now



With his nose twitching each time he scents mischief, Major Tom of the Space Federation roams the galaxy in his flying orange. 

He and his robot partner Oddball battle with monsters and pirates, and the flying orange zooms to the scene whenever there's trouble afoot.

BASTARD


Hello, Agent May.
I'm Jemma Simmons.

I know who you are.
My squad's been hunting you the past week.


Yes, I suppose that's true.


How did a little pop tart like you evade capture? 

It's good to have you back.


[Scoffs] You think we know each other? Don't tell me you believe in that "OtherWorld" crap, too.


It's a lot to take in, but we do know each other.
We're teammates, in fact.
You, Coulson, Daisy and Mack, me and Fitz.


Leopold Fitz? The Doctor?



I understand he's done some bad things Here, but something must have changed him, because the Fitz I know is a kind, caring person, someone who helps people.


[Scoffs] Doesn't sound like any Fitz I've ever met, Father or Son.


How do you know Fitz's father? 

Everyone at Hydra knows Alistair Fitz.
Those two are inseparable.


That's what Aida changed for Fitz...
Can you still access Hydra personnel files? 
You're going to help me fix this.






Simmons, you're up! [Gun cocks] Hello, Jemma Simmons.
Seems you finally found me.


Fitz — 

You don't get to say my name not after everything you've done.



It wasn't supposed to be like this.
Aida she took you from me, and I came here to rescue you.


So you kill my father? Right after he tells me that he loves me, you murder him in cold blood as I listen.


[Crying] I am so sorry.
It was an accident.


Nothing that you've done has been an accident! You want to destroy This World! You want to destroy me! You want to destroy the woman that I love.


That woman is lying to you! None of this is real! She's not real! Aida's just a a robot you and Radcliffe created.



Her name is Ophelia.


Its name is Aida — Artificially Intelligent Digital Assistant.


And stop making excuses for it! 

Radcliffe and Daisy told you The Truth! Please Fitz, you have to wake up.



Get on your knees.


No.
Aah! Ohh! Please you don't have to do this.
I love you.


And you mean nothing to me.
I want to hear you say it.
"I am nothing to you." 
Say it! Say it! - 


[Gunshot] - Ah! Ah, ah, ah.
No.
This was never my intention.
The Darkhold, it corrupted my mind.



Please, don't blame yourself.
Go.
[Rumbling] 
It was all my fault.





[Both panting] Bringing Fitz here was the only way I could truly save him.
I know I can't make everything that happened in the Framework right, but at least at least this way, Fitz gets to be his old self again.
You should go.

Monday, 22 July 2019

The Majors Tom : The Right Stuff



I think there is a Power Greater Than Us 
that will place The Opportunities in Our Way.





Who are you guys?
 

We're aborigines.
Who are you?
 

Me?
I'm an Astronaut.
 

Well, what do you do here, Astronaut?
 

I'm here because a buddy of mine is getting ready to fly overhead. Up in outer space.
And I'll be talking to him on that dish.
 

Fly over?
You blokes do that, too?
 

You do that yourself?
 

Not me, mate.
See that old bloke there?
He know.
He know The Moon.
He know The Star.
And he know the Milky Way.
He'll give you a hand.
He know.


We're gonna need all the help we can get.
 

Stand by for final ten-second count.
The Clock is operating.
We're underway!
Good Lord, ride all the way.
Godspeed, John Glenn.



I was brought up believing that you are placed on Earth...
more or less with a 50-50 proposition.


This is what I still believe.


We're placed here with certain talents and capabilities...
and it's up to each one of us to use those talents as best we can.
And if we use our talents properly...
I think there is a Power Greater Than Us that will place The Opportunities in our way.

Sunday, 21 July 2019

Snowglobes









Feed The Birds - Mary Poppins (Julie Andrews) 


If you were able to get through to Coulson, then surely I could get Fitz to remember me.

Fitz is not the same.
He's different here.
 


This Reality may be upside down, but Fitz is still Fitz.
He's still a good person.
 

Who happens to be second in command at Hydra.
 


Yeah, which means he has resources, not to mention FrameWork expertise, which we'll need to get out of Radcliffe's Hydra snowglobe. 

 



RIMMER: (On the video) .
..we see the final moments of Arnold J.  Rimmer.

LISTER: 
Yes!

On the video, Captain HOLLISTER is in the Drive Room yelling at RIMMER who is standing at attention.  A few random officers stand in the back.

HOLLISTER: (On the video to RIMMER) Look, it was your job to fix it, Rimmer!  You can't do sloppy work on the drive plate!

RIMMER: (On the video) 
I know, sir, and I accept full responsibility for any consequences.  
(Executes a Full-Rimmer salute.)

A blinding white light glares and everyone is blown across the room by a tremendous wind.

HOLLY: (On the video) 
Emergency.  There's an emergency going on.  It's still going on.  
Will Arnold J.  Rimmer please hurry to white corridor 159.  
This is an emergency announcement.

We see RIMMER as he is thrown against a wall, screaming

RIMMER: (On the video) 
Aaaaaiiiiiiiuuuuurrrrghhhhh... Gazpacho soup.






RIMMER is blown out of shot until only his arm is visible which falls
into the shattered remains of a snow flurry paperweight (echoes of "Citizen Kane").

LISTER: 
Off.  
(The video stops.) 
Gazpacho soup?  Why were his last words, "gazpacho soup?"