Saturday 20 April 2024

The Wild Hunt is on Us...!!



The USS Enterprise in Pursuit of the Alien Vessel Which Destroyed the Ou...

Larry Summers and the Winklevoss 
twins Scene from The Social Network

Tyler Winklevoss
This isn't petty larceny. 
This idea is potentially worth 
millions of dollars.

Larry Summers
Millions!

Cameron Winklevoss
Yes.

Larry Summers
You might just be letting your 
imaginations run away with you.

Tyler Winklevoss
Sir, I honestly don't think you're 
in any position to make that call.

Larry Summers : 
I was The U.S. Treasury Secretary. 
I'm in some position to 
make that call.

Tyler Winklevoss : 
Letting our imaginations run away 
with us is exactly what we were 
told to do in your freshmen address.

Larry Summers : 
Then I would suggest that you 
let your imaginations run away 
with you on a new project.

Cameron Winklevoss
You would?

Larry Summers : 
Yes. Everyone at Harvard's 
inventing something. 
Harvard undergraduates 
believe that inventing a job 
is better than finding a job. 
So, I'll suggest again 
that the two of you 
come up with a new 
new project.

Cameron Winklevoss : 
I'm sorry, sir, but 
that's not The Point.

Larry Summers
Please, arrive at The Point.

Tyler Winklevoss : 
You don't have to be an intellectual 
property expert to understand 
the difference between 
right and wrong.

Larry Summers : 
And you're saying 
that I don't?

Cameron Winklevoss : 
Of course I'm not 
saying that, sir.

Tyler Winklevoss : 
I'm saying that.

Larry Summers : 
Really....

The Running Scene | Get Out (2017)


You are What You Love

Robert McKee's Screenwriting Seminar | Adaptation. | CineClips



Charlie Kaufman
There was this time in high school. 
I was watching you out the library window. 
You were talking to Sarah Marsh.

Donald Kaufman
Oh, God. I was so in love with her.

Charlie Kaufman
I know. And you were flirting with her. 
And she was being really sweet to you.

Donald Kaufman
I remember that.

Charlie Kaufman
Then, when you walked away, she started 
making fun of you with Kim Canetti. 

And it was like they 
were laughing at me

You didn't know at all. 
You seemed so happy.

Donald Kaufman
I knew. I heard them.

Charlie Kaufman: 
How come you looked so happy?

Donald Kaufman: 
I loved Sarah, Charles. 
It was mine, that love. 
I owned it. Even Sarah didn't 
have the right to take it away. 
I can love whoever I want.

Charlie Kaufman
But she thought you were pathetic.

Donald Kaufman
That was her business, not mine. 
You are What You Love, 
not What Loves You
That's what I decided 
long time ago. What's up?

Charlie Kaufman
[stunned] Thank you.


The Hound of Heaven

 The Wild Hunt is on Us..!!




The Hound Of Heaven By Francis Thompson (1890) 

I fled Him, down the nights and down the days;
I fled Him, down the arches of the years;
I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways
Of my own mind; and in the mist of tears
I hid from Him, and under running laughter.
Up vistaed hopes I sped;
And shot, precipitated,
Adown Titanic glooms of chasmèd fears,
From those strong Feet that followed, followed after.
But with unhurrying chase,
And unperturbèd pace,
Deliberate speed, majestic instancy,
They beat—and a Voice beat
More instant than the Feet—
‘All things betray thee, who betrayest Me.’
I pleaded, outlaw-wise,
By many a hearted casement, curtained red,
Trellised with intertwining charities;
(For, though I knew His love Who followèd,
Yet was I sore adread
Lest having Him, I must have naught beside).
But, if one little casement parted wide,
The gust of His approach would clash it to.
Fear wist not to evade, as Love wist to pursue.
Across the margent of the world I fled,
And troubled the gold gateways of the stars,
Smiting for shelter on their clangèd bars;
Fretted to dulcet jars
And silvern chatter the pale ports o’ the moon.
I said to Dawn: Be sudden—to Eve: Be soon;
With thy young skiey blossoms heap me over
From this tremendous Lover—
Float thy vague veil about me, lest He see!
I tempted all His servitors, but to find
My own betrayal in their constancy,
In faith to Him their fickleness to me,
Their traitorous trueness, and their loyal deceit.
To all swift things for swiftness did I sue;
Clung to the whistling mane of every wind.
But whether they swept, smoothly fleet,
The long savannahs of the blue;
Or whether, Thunder-driven,
They clanged his chariot ’thwart a heaven,
Plashy with flying lightnings round the spurn o’ their
feet:—
Fear wist not to evade as Love wist to pursue.
Still with unhurrying chase,
And unperturbèd pace,
Deliberate speed, majestic instancy,
Came on the following Feet,
And a Voice above their beat—
‘Naught shelters thee, who wilt not shelter Me.’
I sought no more that after which I strayed
In face of man or maid;
But still within the little children’s eyes
Seems something, something that replies;
They at least are for me, surely for me!
I turned me to them very wistfully;
But just as their young eyes grew sudden fair
With dawning answers there,
Their angel plucked them from me by the hair.
‘Come then, ye other children, Nature’s—share
With me’ (said I) ‘your delicate fellowship;
Let me greet you lip to lip,
Let me twine with you caresses,
Wantoning
With our Lady-Mother’s vagrant tresses,
Banqueting
With her in her wind-walled palace,
Underneath her azured daïs,
Quaffing, as your taintless way is,
From a chalice
Lucent-weeping out of the dayspring.’
So it was done:
I in their delicate fellowship was one—
Drew the bolt of Nature’s secrecies.
I knew all the swift importings
On the wilful face of skies;
I knew how the clouds arise
Spumèd of the wild sea-snortings;
All that’s born or dies
Rose and drooped with; made them shapers
Of mine own moods, or wailful or divine;
With them joyed and was bereaven.
I was heavy with the even,
When she lit her glimmering tapers
Round the day’s dead sanctities.
I laughed in the morning’s eyes.
I triumphed and I saddened with all weather,
Heaven and I wept together,
And its sweet tears were salt with mortal mine;
Against the red throb of its sunset-heart
I laid my own to beat,
And share commingling heat;
But not by that, by that, was eased my human smart.
In vain my tears were wet on Heaven’s gray cheek.
For ah! we know not what each other says,
These things and I; in sound I speak—
Their sound is but their stir, they speak by silences.
Nature, poor stepdame, cannot slake my drouth;
Let her, if she would owe me,
Drop yon blue bosom-veil of sky, and show me
The breasts o’ her tenderness:
Never did any milk of hers once bless
My thirsting mouth.
Nigh and nigh draws the chase,
With unperturbèd pace,
Deliberate speed, majestic instancy;
And past those noisèd Feet
A voice comes yet more fleet—
‘Lo! naught contents thee, who content’st
not Me.’
Naked I wait Thy love’s uplifted stroke!
My harness piece by piece Thou hast hewn from me,
And smitten me to my knee;
I am defenceless utterly.
I slept, methinks, and woke,
And, slowly gazing, find me stripped in sleep.
In the rash lustihead of my young powers,
I shook the pillaring hours
And pulled my life upon me; grimed with smears,
I stand amid the dust o’ the mounded years—
My mangled youth lies dead beneath the heap.
My days have crackled and gone up in smoke,
Have puffed and burst as sun-starts on a stream.
Yea, faileth now even dream
The dreamer, and the lute the lutanist;
Even the linked fantasies, in whose blossomy twist
I swung the earth a trinket at my wrist,
Are yielding; cords of all too weak account
For earth with heavy griefs so overplussed.
Ah! is Thy love indeed
A weed, albeit an amaranthine weed,
Suffering no flowers except its own to mount?
Ah! must—
Designer infinite!—
Ah! must Thou char the wood ere Thou canst limn
with it?
My freshness spent its wavering shower i’ the dust;
And now my heart is as a broken fount,
Wherein tear-drippings stagnate, spilt down ever
From the dank thoughts that shiver
Upon the sighful branches of my mind.
Such is; what is to be?
The pulp so bitter, how shall taste the rind?
I dimly guess what Time in mists confounds;
Yet ever and anon a trumpet sounds
From the hid battlements of Eternity;
Those shaken mists a space unsettle, then
Round the half-glimpsèd turrets slowly wash again.
But not ere him who summoneth
I first have seen, enwound
With glooming robes purpureal, cypress-crowned;
His name I know, and what his trumpet saith.
Whether man’s heart or life it be which yields
Thee harvest, must Thy harvest-fields
Be dunged with rotten death?
Now of that long pursuit
Comes on at hand the bruit;
That Voice is round me like a bursting sea:
‘And is thy earth so marred,
Shattered in shard on shard?
Lo, all things fly thee, for thou fliest Me!
Strange, piteous, futile thing!
Wherefore should any set thee love apart?
Seeing none but I makes much of naught’ (He said),
‘And human love needs human meriting:
How hast thou merited—
Of all man’s clotted clay the dingiest clot?
Alack, thou knowest not
How little worthy of any love thou art!
Whom wilt thou find to love ignoble thee,
Save Me, save only Me?
All which I took from thee I did but take,
Not for thy harms,
But just that thou might’st seek it in My arms.
All which thy child’s mistake
Fancies as lost, I have stored for thee at home:
Rise, clasp My hand, and come!’
Halts by me that footfall:
Is my gloom, after all,
Shade of His hand, outstretched caressingly?
‘Ah, fondest, blindest, weakest,
I am He Whom thou seekest!
Thou dravest love from thee, who dravest Me.’

— Francis Thompson (1859–1907)



Francis Thompson (1859-1907)

Francis Thompson was born in Northwest England in 1859. The son of Catholic converts, as a boy he was initially educated for the priesthood. When he was 18, at his parents' insistence, he entered Owens College in Manchester to follow in his father's footsteps and study medicine. But before long, he left for London hoping to pursue what he believed was his true vocation of being a writer. As a result of ill health and subsequent medical treatment, like many before him, Thompson became addicted to opium. He soon fell into a life of despair and destitution, sleeping on the banks of the Thames with London's homeless and selling matches just to stay alive.

Yet it was during this time, in the midst of all his hunger, deprivation and hopelessness, that he was most able to see the kingdom of Heaven. These devastating experiences honed his poetic focus and insights. In 1888, Thompson sent a tattered and torn manuscript to the Catholic periodical Merry England. Its editors, Wilfrid and Alice Meynell, devout Christians themselves, not only recognized Thompson's poetic ability, they took him under their care and gave him a home. They also arranged for the publication of his first book in 1893, simply titled Poems, which included The Hound of Heaven. The poem was immediately recognized as a masterpiece.

Thompson spent the years from 1893-1897 nursing his frail health in a monastery in Wales. He died of tuberculosis on November 13, 1907. He was 47. After his death, Alice Meynell wrote that no change in poetic tastes in the years to come could ever "lessen the height or diminish the greatness" of Thompson's profound accomplishment. In his eulogy for Thompson, G. K. Chesterton simply concluded: "He was a great poet." Among those who would be influenced by Thompson was the young J. R. R. Tolkien, who purchased a volume of Thompson's works in 1913, and later claimed that it had played an important role in his own writing.

Friday 19 April 2024

They…. Enjoyed it.








Narrator

What would end with 

The Murder of Bobby Franks 

had begun almost innocently

with A Scheme Richard devised 

to Cheat at Cards


That small transgression 

had bound The Boys together

put them in league against 

The Rest of The World, 

but Richard longed to play 

more dangerous Games.


John Logan, Playwright

It was Crime that fascinated Loeb. He read detective novels, pulp periodicals, he devoured the newspapers for stories of Crime


And I Think to him it's because 

There's a certain exceptionality about Crime


Criminals are not 

of the common run of Humanity. And he felt he was not 

in the common run of Humanity.


Narrator

Nathan was more than 

Willing to join in, but 

he wanted something in return


So The Boys made A Secret Pact.


Simon Baatz, Historian

There was an arrangement 

that Richard would agree 

to have sex with Nathan 

if Nathan accompanied Richard 

when he did His Crimes. 


Richard started out by committing small acts of vandalism -- 

stealing cars, setting fire to buildings. 


It escalated more and more, and then eventually Richard suggested The Idea to Nathan of committing A Murder.


Narrator

Nathan was not only agreeable

he urged Richard on 

with a concept taken from 

the German philosopher 

Friedrich Nietzsche : that of 

The Ubermensch, or superman -- 

A Being so exceptional 

that he was bound 

by neither Law nor Morality.


John Logan, Playwright :

Unfortunately they invested 

in their own sort of Dark and Twisted version of 

The Nietzschean Ideal 

where they began to self-identify 

as The Nietzschean superman. 


They wanted to 

create a unique act -- 

Do something that was, 

in their view, exalted 

and befitting of a 

Nietzschean superman

and they thought This Act 

being so clever

committing The Perfect Murder

would be a way for them 

to demonstrate their 

Superiority over Other People.


Paula Fass, Historian

They were a couple of boys playing a strange 

and sadistic Game —


Now, obviously this had 

an erotic dimension, 

but it also had a kind of 

intellectual dimension, and 

That, I Think, is key 

to understanding what was going on between Richard Loeb and Nathan Leopold.


Narrator : 

Neither had ever considered The Possibility that they would be caught


Now, The Two Supermen were behind bars, and if The State's Attorney had his way, they would end on The Gallows.


Hours after news of the confessions broke, the Loeb family sought the counsel of the country's preeminent criminal defense attorney, Clarence Darrow -- soon to be known as 

The "Attorney for The Damned."


John A. Farrell, Writer : 

Clarence Darrow was, 

at this point in His Life, 67 years old. He had just come off an amazing string of Victories defending a bunch of corrupt politicians in Chicago. 


Clarence Darrow was thought as a legal miracle worker. Many of his cases -- His Guys or His Gals are found with the guns or bloody knife in their hands. And that's why he was seen as the attorney for the damned.


Narrator: 

"Get them a Life sentence instead of Death," Loeb's uncle begged Darrow. "We'll pay you anything, only for God's sake, don't let them hang." It was a request Darrow could not refuse.


John A. Farrell, Writer : 

He hated Capital Punishment. 

He did probably 60 or more Capital Punishment cases in his career. 


He lost the first one to The Hangman, and he never got over it. His philosophy was definitely, "Hate The Sin and Love The Sinner." He Believed people act the way They Act because they're brought up in Poverty or because they themselves have been ill-treated, and that the supreme virtue was Mercy.


Simon Baatz, Historian

He Believed that everything we do is determined by our upbringing, by Our Childhood, by Our Parents, and therefore there's very little Free Choice. No Free Will. So He Believed accordingly that capital punishment, the death penalty, was something that should not take place.


Narrator: Darrow was by no means alone. The previous quarter century had seen movements to abolish the death penalty in no fewer than 10 states, while the number of executions nationwide had sharply declined. With the issue still being hotly debated all over the country, Darrow sensed an opportunity to Tip The Scales.


John A. Farrell, Writer : 

He wants to make A Statement about Capital Punishment. In the Leopold and Loeb case, he knows he has this amazing spotlight. Everybody is Listening around The World, not just in the United States.


Narrator: 

"The Actor-Egoist in him sought opportunities to play great parts," one writer said of Darrow. "Hero Parts."


Darrow showed up for his first meeting with his clients in a rumpled seersucker suit and a shirt that bore traces of his breakfast. "My first impression," Nathan Leopold later said, "was Horror."


John Logan, Playwright : 

You couldn't imagine three more 

different planets in constellation. 

There was Loeb, who was sleek and his lapels could cut you like a knife. Leopold who was intense and brooding and his hair was always shining and he was very sort of well put together. And then Clarence Darrow who was a complete shambling mess. It was like a hobbit suddenly walked into a room of tango dancers.


Narrator: 

By the time Darrow arrived, Leopold and Loeb had been in Crowe's custody for three days, talking all the while. The state's attorney had even arranged for Leopold and Loeb to be examined by Chicago's leading Alienists -- as psychiatrists were known -- in an effort to block what he assumed would be Darrow's only possible line of Defence : Not Guilty by reason of Insanity.


Carol Steiker, Professor of Law : Crowe's Alienists all said that The Defendants were perfectly sane and there was nothing wrong with them other than that they simply failed to appreciate the enormity of what they'd done. But that was hardly Insanity, that was, in the state's view, you know, Evil, not Madness.


Narrator: 

On June 11th, Darrow appeared with his clients before Judge John Caverly. As expected, he entered a Not Guilty plea, which gave him several weeks to prepare his defense. 


Next, he gathered A Team of ‘Experts’ 

from all over The Country to evaluate Leopold and Loeb, including a physician, an adolescent criminologist, and a Psychiatrist 

versed in the new analytic techniques of Sigmund Freud


Over the next five weeks, Leopold and Loeb would be subject to rigorous examinations derived from the cutting edge of modern science. Their bodily functions were measured, intelligence tested, family histories probed. Meanwhile, the boys' unfathomable crime prompted a rash of national hand-wringing over the perils of modern life.


John Logan, Playwright

It did say something about the 20s.

You know, The Music is Wild

the skirts were short, there was gin

it was a fast-living Society

So the madcap fun was suddenly 

a very dark implication of unchecked emotion

unchecked youth, unchecked wildness can lead to things.


Paula Fass, Historian : So there was a lot of uneasiness about Who we Were and Where We were Going. 


You had some ministers saying it was because Americans were over-educating their children. There was too much prosperity, too much Modernism, too much indulgence of American children taking place at the time. 


All of these things rained down 

on the Leopold and Loeb case.


Narrator : 

Concerned for His Clients' image

Darrow sent men into the streets of Chicago 

to gauge public opinion. Sixty percent 

of those queried thought 

Leopold and Loeb should hang.


John A. Farrell, Writer

Darrow's early letters to His Son 

and to His ex-Wife from early June 

are very bleak and they say, 'I doubt 

that I'll be able to save these boys.


And this is a man who has pulled the trick off dozens of times throughout his career, but he says, you know, "The Newspapers are just too bad."


Narrator: 

On July 21st, two months after Bobby Franks' murder, Darrow and his clients joined Prosecutor Crowe in the Criminal Court Building, to present motions before Judge John Caverly. 


It was 10am, and though the already sweltering courtroom was filled to capacity, the crowd was mostly silent. 


Darrow, disheveled as ever, his thumbs hooked under his trademark suspenders, spoke first, and turned the entire case on its head by entering a plea of Guilty.


John A. Farrell, Writer :

He stood up and told The Judge that 

‘We're going to change The Plea to Guilty.’ 

Reporters jumped and ran to the rooms 

and all the afternoon newspapers was 

that Leopold and Loeb are pleading Guilty.


Hal Higdon, Writer

And when you plead somebody Guilty

it Changes The Game entirely because 

now you're not going to impanel a jury. 

So then it became The Judge's decision 

to decide whether they would hang or whether 

they would be just sent to prison for Life.


Narrator

Crowe, who moments earlier had 

confidently swaggered into the courtroom 

chomping on a cigar, was apoplectic.


Simon Baatz, Historian

Crowe thought he had everything sewn up, 

that he was all ready for A Plea by The Defence 

of Not Guilty on account of Insanity.


Carol Steiker, Professor of Law

Darrow has this radical idea that 

he's going to introduce evidence about 

his clients' backgrounds, and about 

their mental states to argue for 

a sentence less than Death. 


Darrow's strategy to introduce this evidence was absolutely ground breaking. It was so groundbreaking that no one had ever heard of it. 


The State's Attorney thought 

it was completely ridiculous and 

he shouldn't be allowed to do this.


John Logan, Playwright

Darrow wanted to present 

psychological weakness 

as a mitigating factor for sentencing. 


So essentially what he was saying to Judge Caverly was, 'We admit that we committed the crime, but I'd like to show you why we committed the crime.'


Narrator : When the sentencing hearing got underway on the morning of July 23rd, 1924, the stifling courtroom was so thronged with spectators that reporters commandeered the empty jury box. 


Crowe presented The State's evidence first -- armed with a lengthy list of witnesses who would provide testimony on every ghastly detail of Leopold and Loeb's crime.