Monthly Archives: January 2018

The Hitchhiker – Riding the Nightmare (10/05/90)

Posted on by
5

Teleplay by the writer of the incoherent A Whole New You, and the even more incoherenter The Miracle of Alice Ames.  It’s going to be a long night.

We get a shot of a castle with arches.  Wait they don’t have roman columns on castles, do they?  Maybe a mausoleum?  We see a white horse running through the woods at night, but just barely.  Then a shot of some kind of optical effect, a light?  Another shot of the horse.  The light seems to be some sort of rotating cube.  I have replayed this 10 f***ing times and I still have no idea what it is.  It scares the horse, but just pisses me off. [1]

The phone wakes Tess up just as I’m dozing off.  She has broken a sweat sleeping at her desk.  She tells her secretary to show her visitors in.  Her publisher Jim and reporter Dorothy enter to discuss the Davidson article.  Dorothy wants to use photographs in the article, but Tess wants to use the Clemente List.  This second scene was the first sign of trouble except for the entire first scene.  WTF is a Clemente List?  How is it an alternative to photographs?  I played this scene over and over and could not understand what she was saying.  I got Clemente List from the closed caption, but I guess I need footnotes in addition to subtitles.

Jim wants to see Tess’s version, but it will take her a couple of hours to put together.  Dorothy says, “The deadline is 2:00.  I’d say any pictures are better than nothing.”  However, Tess quotes Jim who always says, “Better nothing than anything but the best.”  Tess promises to have the articles and illustrations on Jim’s desk by 2:00.

She scrambles to meet the deadline, but for some reason her sister Jude is there.  Despite the time crunch, there is plenty of time to talk about Jude’s problems with her husband Gordon.  Jude wonders where he is all those late nights, but Tess assures her Gordon would never cheat on her.

In the next shot, Tess is in bed with Gordon.

She gets out of bed when she hears her daughter Karen arrive home.  She has been made editor of the school paper, just like Mommy, except without the whoring.  Tess says they’ll talk about it later and returns to Gordon.  He says he has to go, and I guess Karen doesn’t wonder why her sweaty uncle is leaving her robed Mommy’s bedroom in the afternoon.

That night, Tess again dreams of the horse and the mausoleum.  This time, she gets on the horse and rides it toward the light.  The director seems to think it is important that we see a necklace with a T on it around her neck . . . but not important enough to give us a decent shot.  The horse jumps through the light which seems to be a portal, arriving on the lawn of a large house, but without Tess.  When the horse stops, the T necklace is around the horses neck.  Jude is standing in front of the horse and sees blood near the T necklace.

Tess again wakes up screaming.  Karen comes to the room after hearing Tess screaming which I guess is why she bangs Gordon while Karen is in school.  But wait, Jude says he has been going out at night.  Tess looks at the T necklace she wore to bed and sees there is blood on it.  WTF?  Is she the horse?  Then who was the horse she was riding?

The next day, Gordon meets Tess on the street in front of her office.  Gordon has bad news — his wife Jude is pregnant.  Tess thinks that is great and sees no reason for their arrangement to change (i.e. she can go on humping her pregnant sister’s husband — who are these people?).  Gordon, however, wants to be faithful to Jude now.  And by now, I mean right now — he still proposes they go away together in a couple of weeks.

That night, Tess dreams of the horse again.  Picking up from the previous cliff-hanger, Jude is still fingering the bloody T around the horse’s neck.  OK, now Jude is riding the horse through the woods.  She gets clotheslined by a low branch and is knocked off the horse.  Somehow this causes real Jude, in the hospital, to sit bolt upright as we all do after a nightmare.  Wait, in the hospital?  Is this 9 months later?

Jude gives us a little exposition that “I lost my baby, didn’t I?”  She blames Tess.  Gordon asks if she spoke to Tess, which makes no sense.  Jude says, “I don’t have to.  I saw.  I know.”  Risking his nomination for husband-of-the-year, Gordon decides that this is the best time to tell his wife — in the hospital with a miscarriage — that he was banging her sister.  Jude quite appropriately tells him to beat it.

He goes back to Tess’s place.  He tells her “she acted like she knew.”  He says he is sorry over and over.

We cut to a nice sunny day.  Gordon is in Tess’s kitchen wearing a nice dress shirt and tie, and calls Karen to get the lunch he packed for her to take to school.  Tess comes in and they are all joshing like Ozzie and Harriett.  After Karen leaves, Tess says “I think we’ve done a pretty good job as parents.”  So I guess Tess’s fling with Gordon has been going on for 15 years.  And he might be the biological father, but exactly what parenting did he contribute as Uncle Gordon?

Tess suggests they deserve a reward for being such good parents.  She wants to go away to a cabin in the woods for the weekend.  “Without Karen?” Gordon asks.  So, is Jude dead?  What happened to Jude?  And she is thinking Karen should know of their weekend getaway?  She knows Mommy is banging Uncle Gordon?

Tess, for some reason, meets Gordon out on the same street she met him when they were sneaking around behind the aching back of his pregnant wife.  She sees that he has brought Karen.  He says he didn’t have the heart to leave her by herself.

At the cabin, there is an argument about bedtime.  Gordon takes Karen’s side and Karen calls Tess a witch before running to her room.  In bed, Gordon and Tess are sleeping back to back.  Tess dreams about that goddam horse again.  Now Tess is the rider again.  She is wearing the T necklace, and this time the horse seems to have not accessorized.  The horse jumps through the light again and Tess falls to the ground.  We now see the horse is wearing a necklace with a K on it.

We cut to another nice sunny day.  Gordon and Karen are at Tess’s funeral.  Karen asks if he is going to leave.  He says, “I’ll take good care of you, I promise.”  And continues, “Do you promise to take good care of me?”  She smiles and we see she is wearing a necklace with a K on it.

Lauren Hutton (Tess) is literally the only person to give a reasonable performance.  The men are especially egregious.  Jim doesn’t have much to do but plays it so pointlessly humorless and aloof that it is laughably distracting.  Gordon has long moments of absolute blankness.  At times, he is still and emotionless, not giving a hint of what he is thinking or of his motivation (see the pictures above).  Tess’s sister is similarly a tree stump with awful 1980s hair.  Karen is very cute; almost too cute.  She also has a strange acting style where fear is pretty close to laughter.

Once again, this series has put me in a position where I feel I must be missing something obvious.  These aren’t stupid people.  Nothing as incoherent as this seems could have made it through the production process.  Just about nothing about it makes sense to me.

What is the horse?  Did Jude die?  How did Gordon become man of the house?  Seriously, that kitchen scene is such a non-sequitur and so tonally different from the previous scene that it suggests a time leap or even a different reality.  And let’s consider Karen.

At times the 14 year old actress shows a strange maturity, and at other times is just a kid.  Gordon seems to have a creepy relationship with her.  He brings her along on a romantic weekend with Tess, takes her side in childish arguments.  Is he a pedophile?  She seems to be cool with that, egging him on at the end.  And would the state really allow the single non-biological uncle with tinted sunglasses to adopt this Lolita?  I guess he could show a relationship by showing he was banging her dead mother’s dead sister, but would that help his case?  Something is going on there that they were either too dense to see, or too scared to commit to.

Other Stuff:

  • [1] After a couple more tries, I realized it was rectangular light.  A tree bisected it so it appeared to be a dash and a dot, then gave the illusion of rotating.  Filmed competently, it could have been pretty cool.
  • I read the original short story.  Not really my thing, but it didn’t shed much light on the episode.  There was no Karen, and Jude was OK with her sister humping Gordon.
  • Mostly it made me wonder how Google Books can just put it online for free.  Sure there were a few pages missing, but is anyone thinking, “I liked those seventeen pages, I think I’ll buy the book to see the other two”?  Readers of this blog are paying customers, although the currency is mostly disappointment and wasted time.

Alfred Hitchcock Presents – Man from the South (01/03/60)

Posted on by
3

The first AHP of the 1960s!

However progressive this sounds, the first shot is decidedly retro.  We see the old Las Vegas strip — The Golden Nugget, the giant mechanical cowboy.  It is all very gritty, with steel and bolts compared to the smooth, mirrored high-rises built today.

Neile Adams (no character name, so just call her Neile) has just bought a Brandy for $.45.  She is sitting at the bar dangling a shoe in the way only a pretty girl can without looking like trash.  When her shoe drops to the floor, Steve McQueen slips it back on her foot in the only way a guy can without getting kicked in the f***ing head — by being Steve McQueen.

After her brandy, they get a table for a more nutritious breakfast of coffee and cigarettes.  As cool Steve McQueen lights the exotically beautiful Neile’s cigarette, then moves to light his own, it is comical when Peter Lorre leans into the shot for a light.  Not only is he crassly intruding on their flirtations, compared to these two uber-specimens, he looks positively otherworldly.

Lorre takes a couple of puffs, then purposely breaks his cigarette.  He bums a new smoke from Neile, then compliments McQueen’s lighter as he lights it for him.  McQueen says, “I don’t wear it as a badge.  It’s a good lighter and it works.”  Then he makes a click noise.  I think he made that same click in The Great Escape.  Did I discover the secret of his cool?  Was it the click?  I’ll have to rewatch Papillon:  “We’re something, aren’t we? The only animals that shove things up their ass for survival . . . click.”  No, not very cool.

Lorre says he is a very rich man, and a sporting man.  He wonders if McQueen would like to make a wager on the reliability of the lighter.  If McQueen can make his lighter fire 10 times in a row, Lorre will give him a convertible.  If the lighter fails even once, McQueen will get a finger chopped off.  But just the little one.  And on off the left hand.

McQueen eventually accepts the bet.  After checking out the convertible, they go to Lorre’s room #12 — so the rich sporting man has a first floor room?  We don’t get to see the car inspection.  I’m sure it was the standard kicking of tires, making the roof go up and down, making sure there is 750 pounds of chrome, and checking the registration for Lorre’s name.

When they enter the room, Lorre removes some women’s lingerie that is lying around.  This is never explained, but suggests a scene more blood-curdling than anything that will follow here.

Two set pieces follow.  First is the preparation for the game.  Second is the contest itself.  The contest is what everyone remembers from this episode, but credit is also due to the prep-work.  Realistically showing something being built or prepared is always fascinating.  Lorre has a bellhop get some supplies, and he constructs a device to secure McQueen’s hand.  It gets the suspense ramping up early as you see that Lorre is serious — thought has actually gone into this.  It also increases the stakes.  If McQueen loses, he isn’t going to just be able run out.

There is no way to do justice to the contest.  I can’t believe Hitchcock didn’t grab this script for himself.  It is just a masterclass in suspense.

SPOILERS:

After 7 successful flicks of the non-Bic, a woman bursts into the room.  She takes the butcher knife away from Lorre and chews him out.  Lorre is a fraud.  He doesn’t even own the convertible.  Over the years, he lost 11 convertibles and picked up 47 fingers from other rubes.  She says over the years, she was able to win all his possessions from him, so he has nothing to bet with.  As proof, she reveals her left hand which now has only a thumb and little finger left.  Although how she drives without a middle finger is not explained.

Three talented, charismatic performers and a great script with a classic suspense scene come together to make this the best episode of a very good series.

Other Stuff:

  • AHP Deathwatch:  Steve McQueen died at 50 years old, but Neile Adams is still with us.  Director Norman Lloyd . . . I’m double-checking at 11:18 PM — yes still around at 103.
  • How did Norman LLoyd not have a massive career directing theatrical movies?
  • This episode was remade in 1985 for an AHP reboot.  John Huston was pretty good in the Peter Lorre role.  Steven Bauer and Melanie Griffith just couldn’t compete with Steve McQueen and Niele Adams, though.  But, really, who could?
  • No subtly was allowed on TV by the 1980s, so the contest goes all the way to 10.  Huston brings the butcher knife down but the ending is so muddled that it is not clear if he missed on purpose or was startled.  It is really a decent remake, though.
  • Adams and McQueen were married when this was filmed.  According to IMDb, she is 26% Chinese, Japanese & Mongolian, 7% Polynesian, and 67% Spanish; she plays a woman pretending to be Russian, then admits she is from Iowa.  Only in America.
  • For a more complete and coherent look at the episode and production, check out bare*bones e-zine.

Twilight Zone – Extra Innings (10/01/88)

Posted on by
1

40 year old disabled pro baseball player Ed Hamner is listening to his former team, the Detroit Tigers, on the radio.  His BFF, 12 year old Paula — wait, what? — drops her bike outside and comes in.  She is also wearing Tigers paraphernalia.  She jumps up into the chair with Ed — again I say, what!  This strange relationship is not even the first thing that jumps out when viewing the episode.  For some reason, Marc Singer has chosen to play this character as if he were borderline mentally challenged.

After the game, she shows Ed some of his old baseball cards which she just bought.  She says, “I hear 20 Ed Hamners will get me a Reggie Jackson.”  That might sound cruel, but she was being charitable.  Based on my brief flirtation with baseball cards, the figure should have been more like 2,000 [1].  But they’re pals, just joshing and giving each other shoulder and elbow shoves as they giggle.

She hands Ed her big surprise — an ancient card she found for a player named Monty Hanks.  Like Ed, he had a brief career.  Also, like Ed, he has Ed’s face — they are identical. Paula leaves, but Ed says he will come to see her pitch tomorrow.

Ed’s wife comes home and immediately starts nagging him in the most irritating way possible — deservedly.  She chews him out for playing with baseball cards when he was supposed to be working on his resume, although it is pretty much on the back of all of the Ed Hamner baseball cards Paula brought him.

Ed does make the effort to show up for an interview at Vectrocomp the next day, however, the boss keeps him waiting for over an hour.  He tells the receptionist he has another appointment and goes to Paula’s baseball game.  That night when he gets home, Cindy is swilling wine already.  She says, “Look who’s here, Rookie of the Year!”  I enjoyed that.

That night, sleeping on the couch, he is awakened by the Monty Hanks baseball card glowing in the dark.  Then it floats over to him and expands to the size of a door.  Ed walks through and is transported to 1910.  He no longer needs his cane, and is in a Washington Senators baseball uniform.  The bad news is that he is Monty Hanks and at bat facing the bean-ball that ended Hanks’ career.  Sure enough, he takes one right to the melon.  This time Hamner / Hanks is able to shake it off, though, and play out the game.

After experiencing the miracle of time travel, being healed so he no longer needed a cane, again feeling the passion of playing the game he so loved, Ed can’t wait to tell his soul-mate, his life-partner, his bestie . . . 12 year old Paula.  She is understandably skeptical until he shows her the stats on the back of Monty Hanks card which have changed to reflect Ed’s performance.  On the next trip, he takes Paula with him; to a simpler time when there was no crippling pain, no nagging wife, no pressure to get an office job, no consent laws.

After a few trips, Ed’s team is in contention to go to the World Series.  Cindy has set up a gig for Ed as a speaker at a convention, but he ditches that too as he can’t miss a crucial game.  Paula could not attend, but comes to his house later.  She catches Cindy tossing Ed’s baseball cards into the fire.  Paula enters and asks, “Where’s Ed?”  Cindy quite reasonably asks, “Don’t you ever knock?”  This gal is a keeper!  Paula is able to stop Cindy from burning the Monty Hanks card.

Cindy gives her the card.  Paula rips it in half, somehow knowing that will trap Ed in 1910 rather than, say, ripping him in half like Bishop in Aliens.  Wouldn’t Cindy burning it have also sealed him in?  Also, that’s a pretty presumptuous life choice for Paula to make for Ed and Cindy.  As she looks at the back of the card, the additional years’ stats that Monty Hanks never had are filled in.

Overall, a pretty good episode.  Marc Singer’s performance is a little over the stop with exaggerated facial expressions and speech affectations.  He confesses to his wife that he never really grew up, so I guess he is just a stunted super-fan.  His relationship with Paula might raise eyebrows in the neighborhood, but nothing salacious is implied here.  As usual, the wife doesn’t get much to do except nag.  She did get off some good lines though, and her scene with Paula was very believable.

I even liked the jaunty score they played when Ed went back in time.  It seemed more carnivally than basebally, but it did effectively evoke the past.  Even the little pixie dust flourish musical cue that usually signifies an awful TZ episode is appropriately-used here.

Other Stuff:

  • [1] Marc Singer (Ed) is 40, so Ed’s brief career must have ended about 15 years ago. [2]  This would have put his last year at about 1973, when Reggie Jackson was World Series MVP.  I’d say his wife has been pretty patient.
  • [2] Or 3 years before Paula was born.
  • Classic TZ Connection 1:  In Sixteen Millimeter Shrine, an actress disappears into an old movie rather than a baseball card.  But she didn’t take her paperboy with her.
  • Classic TZ Connection 2:  Ed Hamner is suspiciously similar to TZ writer Earl Hamner, but I see no other similarity.  Maybe he was a Tigers fan.
  • IMDb erroneously calls him Hamler, but it says Hamner on his cards.
  • Ed Hamner was such a Tigers fan, I wonder why TZ didn’t have Hanks play for the Tigers in 1910.
  • From the director of the dreadful Banshee on RBT.  The weakness there was more the script than his direction, though.

Tales of Tomorrow – Many Happy Returns (10/24/52)

Posted on by
Reply

Andy is on the pipe and his son Jack is building a still.  Wait, upon closer examination, Andy is smoking a smooth black cherry blend of tobacco; and Jack is not building a condenser coil to make hooch, it is an electrical coil for a science project.  So I had this completely wrong.

Jack is hooking one of them electrocution switches up to the coil.  Andy says he is missing the power supply, but Jack disagrees.  He says Mr. White showed him how to build this powerless machine.

As June is preparing dinner, their friend Dr. Barnes stops by.  The two men are quite giddy about doing some moon-gazing that night.  Their interest baffles June, but Dr. Barnes says, “Astronomy is the oldest science known to man.”  Well other than metallurgy to produce the telescopes, optics to produce the lenses, mathematics to guide the planets and love to steer the stars; although I could be confusing it with the Age of Aquarius.  Yeah, people were looking at the stars long before that, but I think it was pronounced astrology then.

Andy wonders if his son’s mentor Mr. White might be Dr. Barnes’ handyman.  He asks Barnes, “Do you know the last name of your handyman?”  Barnes doesn’t, so I’m guessing he’s not paying any FICA or Medicare; and also I’m guessing his handyman’s last name isn’t White.

That night, Andy goes to the basement to get his telescope.  He takes a look at Jack’s project.  At dinner, Jack insisted that it was working despite having no power supply.  Andy throws the switch and places his hand on the coil.  He gets amps in his pants, a 50,000 watt handshake, does the juicy Watusi, i.e. is unable to release the coil.  June hears the screeching score — which, to be fair, is better than anything of the 1980s TZ scores — and runs down the stairs.  She throws the switch, cutting the power.  Andy collapses, but is alive.

Andy grills Jack about the mysterious Mr. White who taught him to make the machine.  Jack says he never met Mr. White; he just hears his voice in his head.  It seems to be coming from the moon.  The machine enables Mr. White to send things to Jack.  In fact he just received a picture from Mr. White.  He sent a picture of himself to the boy and it is surprisingly not a dick pic.  Mr. White turns out to be a hideous alien.  I am, however, pleased that Mr. White is wearing a Speedo . . . and how often do you get to say that?

Jack’s parents are relieved that he has been corresponding with a deadly alien rather than a congressman, but still send him up to his room.  Andy says to his wife, “This isn’t much of an anniversary for you, is it?”  Since the big day he had planned for her seems to consist of her cooking dinner, then him going out to look at the moon with another dude, she might be happy with the disruption.

Andy tries to get more information out of Jack, but Mr. White somehow takes away his voice.  That’s it!  Andy vows to stop Mr. White, or at least have him perform that voice trick on his wife.  When he learns that the device can also be used to send things to Mr. White on the moon, he comes up with an idea.  He sends a bomb.

More of the same, although this episode seemed even more prehistoric than many others.  That was largely due to the score and the performances, both of which could be called overwrought.  Andy was the most natural of the cast.  I guess we can give Jack a pass as he was just a kid.  His mother, however, has clearly been seeking the shelter of her mother’s little helper.  She is wound up like Sandy Koufax’s fastball. [1]  Dr. Barnes is also a wild man.

Other Stuff:

  • [1] Being unable to name a single active pitcher, I opted for someone of that era; although this episode aired 3 years before his pro career.
  • The episode has the alternate title Invaders from Ground Zero.  So the moon is ground zero?  Well, I guess Andy did send a bomb there.  It seems like pointless misdirection, but it still it has more pizzazz than the title used.  Actually, what does Many Happy Returns have to do with anything anyway?
  • It really felt like the father should be named Jack and the kid should be Andy.

Outer Limits – Fear Itself (04/10/98)

Posted on by
2

Bernard Seldon has crippling fears and anxiety.  He is also haunted by visions of fires and demons.  Father Wilkes from his old orphanage even returns in his dreams to taunt him and peek at his Underoos.

The next morning, Bernard leaves his apartment and his mind reels at the sights and sounds.  He is terrified at the open space, the strangers, vehicles zooming past, the honking, the loud noises — wait, are they saying this isn’t a normal reaction?  After imagining Wilkes pursuing him down the street, Bernard seeks the clean, peaceful refuge of a city bus, which tells you how scary Father Wilkes must be.

Dr. Pike of the Osgood Psychiatric Clinic tells us that Bernard “suffered a trauma at age 6 from which he never recovered.  In the midst of a raging tantrum, he started a fire in his orphanage which resulted in the death of his 4 year old sister.”  Pike has never seen a patient so crippled by his phobias.  Like all Outer Limits doctors, Pike has a theory.

They strap the terrified Bernard into a chair to perform the first procedure.  For some reason, Pike seems to think that after the quivering Bernard is strapped in, that is a good time to give his students a basic lecture on the amygdala.

Afterward, as Bernard walks home, he is confronted by some neighborhood bullies.  Mind you, these bullies are in their 30’s, so assholes is probably a better word for them.  And, frankly, after just seeing the worthless trash in Tough Guys Don’t Whine yesterday, I’m ready for Bernard to skip ahead to the inevitable scene where he massacres them.  Unfortunately, this is a 60 minute show so we first get a scene where the big tuff men steal his wallet, and send him running in fear as they laugh at him.  Making them even more manlier is the fact that Bernard is so debilitated that he might as well be mentally challenged.  I’m sure their mothers — who they probably still live with — are proud.

When he gets back to his building, his new neighbor Lisa says she baked a butt-load of lasagna, but he seems oblivious to the fact that she is inviting him to join her.  She is undeterred and shows up at his door the next morning to see if he would like to take a walk in the park.  He says yes, but comically closes the door in her face to finish his coffee.  He plays this very Rain-manesque.  It is not clear whether she is pursuing him because she thinks he is special or because she thinks he is “special.”

They take their walk in the park.  The bullies confront Bernard again, but we just get another scene of him being pushed around.  This show is only 60 minutes, right?  This isn’t a two-parter?  At least we make a little progress — there is a vein pulsating in his forehead.  I expect some whoop-ass next time.

Lisa takes Bernard up to the roof of their building and shows him her pigeons.  Sadly, that is not a euphemism.  The treatments are starting to have an effect.  Not only is Bernard no longer afraid of being on the roof, he is dancing around the parapet.  Doctor Pike is happy with the progress, but wants to slow down the treatments.  Bernard disagrees and his forehead starts pulsating again.  He is able to project into Pike’s mind the same kind of horrific hallucinations that he had been living with.

Bernard continues to become more confident.  He rescues a kid in a well — wait, what?  That was so 1980s!  Then the middle-age gang confronts him again.  The leader slams Bernard against a wall and punches him in the gut.  Oh boy, this is going to be great!  Bernard grabs the guy by the throat and . . . that’s pretty much it.  He let’s him go and the gang runs away.  WTF, is this a mini-series?  Let’s get to the good part!

After Lisa says she is falling in love with Bernard, the head thug breaks into her apartment.  Bernard hears this and chokes the guy again.  OK, he does transmit to the idiot images of the guy’s worst fear — in this case, being buried alive. [1]  Kind of out of left field, but it is high on my list too, so it was effective for me.  But still, he lets the guy get away.

There is a revelation about how the fire started.  There is also a fairly pointless case of mistaken identity. The good news is that Bernard finally goes full Charlie McGee on somebody in a pretty disturbing scene.  I’m just sorry it wasn’t the bullies.

Arye Gross was amazing as Bernard.  Was his performance realistic, or was it over the top?  Having never seen a person with this affliction, I couldn’t say, but he did make it effective.  My only quibble is that I felt like the character was blurred between having crushing anxiety and actually being mentally challenged in the usual sense.

Tanya Allen (Lisa) struck me as authentic as a woman who had had some mental issues herself, and had been hurt in a relationship.  Although I wasn’t clear on the motivation, I could imagine her becoming friends with Bernard.  Sometimes her delivery reminded me of Shelley Duvall in The Shining, which ain’t good.  But then, she was supposed to be a little “damaged” so maybe that was intentional.  It worked for me.

Other Stuff:

  • [1] Coincidentally, being buried alive also played a part in a pretty good movie I just saw on NetFlix — an Argentinean joint called Ataud Blanco (White Coffin).
  • Maybe I should get out on the roof and see some pigeons more often too.