Think for Yourself. Question Authority.
"You know what the problem with Hollywood is? They make trash. Unbelievable, unremarkable trash. Now I'm not some grungy wannabe filmmaker that's searching for existentialism through a haze of bong smoke or something. No, it's easy to pick apart bad acting, short-sighted directing, and a purely moronic stringing together of words that many of the studios term as "prose". No, I'm talking about the lack of realism. Realism; not a pervasive element in today's modern American cinematic vision. Take Dog Day Afternoon, for example. Arguably Pacino's best work, short of Scarface and Godfather Part 1, of course. Masterpiece of directing, easily Lumet's best. The cinematography, the acting, the screenplay, all top-notch. But... they didn't push the envelope. Now what if in Dog Day, Sonny REALLY wanted to get away with it? What if - now here's the tricky part - what if he started killing hostages right away? No mercy, no quarter. "Meet our demands or the pretty blonde in the bellbottoms gets it the back of the head." Bam, splat! What, still no bus? Come on! How many innocent victims splattered across a window would it take to have the city reverse its policy on hostage situations? And this is 1976; there's no CNN, there's no CNBC, there's no internet! Now fast forward to today, present time, same situation. How quickly would the modern media make a frenzy over this? In a matter of hours, it'd be biggest story from Boston to Budapest! Ten hostages die, twenty, thirty; bam bam, right after another, all caught in high-def, computer-enhanced, color corrected. You can practically taste the brain matter. All for what? A bus, a plane? A couple of million dollars that's federally insured? I don't think so. Just a thought. I mean, it's not within the realm of conventional cinema... but what if?"
"Today a young man on acid realized that all matter is merely energy condensed to a slow vibration
that we are all one conciousness experiencing itself subjectively
there is no such thing as death
life is only a dream
and we are the imagination of ourselves.....
Here's Tom with the weather"
I, met a boy, wearing Vans, 501s, and a
Dope, Beastie-tee, nipple rings,
New tattoos that claim that he
Was OGT,
back from '92,
on the first EP.
And in between
Sips of Coke
He told me that
He thought
We were sellin' out,
Layin' down,
Suckin' up
To the man.
Well now I've got some
Advice for you, little buddy.
Before you point your finger
You should know that
I'm the man,
And if I'm the man,
Then you're the man, and
He's the man as well so you can
Point that fuckin' finger up your ass.
All you know about me is what I've sold you,
Dumb fuck.
I sold out long before you ever even heard my name.
I sold my soul to make a record,
Dip shit,
And then you bought one.
All you read and
Wear or see and
Hear on TV
Is a product
Begging for your
Fatass dirty
Dollar
You scored as Vincent Vega -Travolta,
Vincent Vega -Travolta
88%
Jimmy -Tarantino
63%
Mia Wallace -Thurman
50%
Jules (aka Pitt)- Jackson
38%
Marcellus Wallace -Rhaymes
25%
Butch -Willis
25%
What Pulp Fiction character are you?
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